The Power

by Cynthia Roberts

  A plan beginning to form in her mind, she led Jack to the door, and bid him goodnight. The guy needed some rest, she thought. Poor guy. He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Well, it was only right that she try and lift some of that weight off. She may not know who the female vampire was that they were dealing with at this point, but she now knew who the male vampire was. She knew his name! That was power within itself! Ewan Derringer had used his power against her. Now, it was time for her to return the favor.

  Jack stumbled through the front door of his apartment, feeling worse for wear. What he had witnessed today was enough to turn any human being’s stomach, but he wasn’t usually the weak stomach type. He had gone to the morgue because he couldn’t stand the thought of doing nothing after the horror he had absorbed at the crime scene. He had interviewed all the would be witnesses, had had the shoe print sized, had sent shiploads of would-be evidence off with the forensics department, and had gone over the photographs from the crime scene for more than three hours with Bordello before he had finally ended up at the morgue with Dr. Harold. It was too much. It was too much, and they still weren’t any closer to getting this guy. Agent Darcy had told Jack tonight that they were closer than he thought to catching this guy. The guy had slipped up last night, making a raged kill. He had left behind the shoe print. There was bound to be more evidence there as well, Darcy had suggested excitedly, perhaps a few hair fibers that the killer had not properly stuffed beneath his cap, or fabric. There had to be something. A person just didn’t perform a massacre like that and not leave behind a trace of evidence.

  Jack was tired, so damned tired. He wasn’t used to not getting his guy. He was smarter than this, better than this! Things just weren’t right in his world at the moment, and to top it all off he had met and fallen in love with the greatest love of his life only to have her leave him with secrets left unsolved. He was tired of the damned secrets, both on the job and off! Mostly though, he just wished she was there right now, in his arms.

  The news covered the murders at ten p.m. Lillian stared at the black TV screen long after Troy had turned off the set by the remote. She had stayed in tonight. She didn’t need to feed after her feast the night before, but someone else had been feasting, she thought numbly. “I have to stop him.” She voiced out loud as the realization hit her.

  “Jack is safe, Lillian. Josh is guarding his apartment even as we speak.” Troy told her in a reassuring tone.

  “He needs to leave this city.”

  “He won’t.”

  “I know.” Lillian leaned forward, still staring at the black TV screen. “What do I do, Troy? What would you do?” she turned suddenly to face the friend that she was becoming closer and closer to as each night passed.

  “Me?” Troy asked thoughtfully as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “I’d tell him the truth. I think he deserves it.”

  “Deserves to know that I’m the one he’s been hunting all along? He’ll feel betrayed.” Lillian argued fitfully, and she rushed to her feet, going to stand next to the fireplace.

  “You aren’t necessarily the one he has been wanting, not the one he wants so bad he can taste it. He’s after the other.” Troy said in a knowing tone that almost convinced her.

  “Say I do tell him the truth. Say even that he accepts me for who I am, what I am. Where do we go from there? He’s mortal. I’m clearly not. I won’t condemn him to this pitiful excuse for existence. I won’t force him to become what he fights so hard to protect this world from!” Lillian spit out furiously. “I would never do that to him.” she hissed.

  “He still has a right to know. He loves you, Lillian, truly loves you, and if you ask me, right now he’s probably needing you pretty damn bad.” Troy stood to his tall height and walked to the hall, peering back into the room, back at her. Lillian turned to face her friend. “Go to him.” Troy suggested strongly, and Lillian dropped her face into her hands.

  “He probably isn’t even home.” she whispered, feeling defeated and hopeless.

  “Josh just called ten minutes ago, said that he was.” Troy reminded. Lillian glanced upward. Troy nodded, smiling reassuringly. “Go to him.” he said again, and then he quit the room.

  Lillian knocked on Jack’s door not half an hour later. When Jack opened the door, he looked like he had been through hell and back again. He took one look at her, and his shoulders slumped downward as if he too were suddenly feeling very defeated.

  “I saw the news.” she explained the excuse for her visit. She had never seen Jack so down. She didn’t like seeing him this way. Tuning into his thoughts, she hated what she was reading. He was feeling inadequate, like a failure. He had failed the city, he thought. He had even failed her. Lillian could take no more. She rushed into his arms, bringing her arms around his broad shoulders, bringing his arms around her body, and holding him close as she buried her face within his neck. She kissed the side of his neck, his cheek, his brow. Oh, Jack, don’t you know what a good man you are. I can feel it in you, even if you can’t, she thought, and she laid a kiss to the warmth of his neck.

  “Jack.” She whispered desperate to help him. “It’s going to be okay.” she assured him, and she pulled him down closer against her, stroking the back of his head with tender care. Jack’s arms tightened around her, and then suddenly he was lifting her off of the ground. Closing the door behind them, he locked it, and carried her into the bedroom where he laid her back on the bed and came over her.

  “No words.” he said stonily, and then his mouth descended upon hers. The kiss was strong, deep, and filled with starving passion. She could feel his desperation to feel his mind wrapped around anything other than the horror he had witnessed that day. He kissed her like a man starved for her, and she felt his desperation like an echo within her own body. She tasted his tongue mating with her own, and she pulled him down closer to her. Ripping his shirt off over his head, she tossed it aside, and instantly her hands reached for the restraints of his jeans. Jack’s hands were all over her, beneath her shirt, cupping her breasts, spanning across her flat stomach, kneading her thighs. Her shirt came off with a flick of his wrist and her bra was flung away to be replaced by his mouth in hot, searing kisses. She moaned low in her throat, as she closed her eyes in surrender. Clothes were torn off and thrown haphazardly into the floor until they were both bear, flesh to glorious flesh, and then Jack was moving within her body and she was lifting her hips to meet his every, powerful thrusts. The joining of their bodies was like coming home after having spent an eternity apart. Tears gathered in her eyes as emotions expanded within her chest, and threatened to burst out into the open. She felt Jack’s hard muscles beneath her hands, felt his body moving within her, and she clung to him, clung to him because she knew that this could very well be the last moments that they would ever share together. This was their here and now, their last chance to get this right. Tonight, she would tell him the truth at last, and he would either accept her or scorn her. The thought caused the tears in her eyes to spill over. Jack’s amber gaze opened, and he stared down at her momentarily before he kissed her tears away. They climaxed together soon after, and then Jack fell to her breasts, panting from his exertions. His head nestled close to her shoulder. Her hands swept up and down his back, loving him for all that he was.

  “I love you, Jack.” she whispered the words out loud, and he lifted his head, staring down at her.

  “You sure about that?” he asked, and she drew on her bottom lip, and nodded.

  “Very sure.” she didn’t look away from his smoldering eyes.

  “Then tell me something good, Lilly. I desperately need to hear something good right about now.” Jack rolled off of her, lying on his back. He placed his hands behind his head and waited.

  “What would you like to hear?” Lillian asked as she rolled, not away from him this time, but to him, and laid her cheek to the warmth of his chest. She could hear his strong heartbeat, and it comforted her.

  “Tell me
about your childhood, but only the good parts.” he added the last quickly. “Tell me how you used to play hide-n-seek with your cousins or something to that affect.”

  “It sounds as if you have it all mapped out for me.” Lillian protested with a smile.

  His hand lifted to stroke the back of her head, to sift gently through her hair.

  “I did have a cousin, actually. Her name was Gail.” Lillian hadn’t thought of her dear cousin in a very long time. The last that she had heard, Gail had produced four children with her husband, two boys and two girls. Lillian bet that Gail had been a good mother too. Gail had always been a gentle soul. “She taught me to read. Her father was a scholar. A professor.” she corrected.

  “And what did you and Gail do as children?” Jack asked. Lillian smiled.

  “Mostly we liked to read silly stories and laugh.” Lillian recalled. “We didn’t get out as much as we would have preferred.” she said thoughtfully.

  “Do you still keep in touch?” Jack’s sleepy voice washed over her as his warm fingers stroked her sensitive back. She was tempted to purr when his fingers continued to lightly caress her skin.

  “No. She married very young. She had two daughters and two sons.” Lillian confessed. She had never met Gail’s children, had never spoken to her dear cousin after Gail had left the manor to be married off. Everything had happened so quickly after that time. One moment Lillian had been wallowing in self pity and despair, the next she had been so very sick, and then…then Gina had come along.

  “Four children.” Jack echoed in shock. “She must have been quite a few years older than you?”

  “Actually, Jack, I was three years older than Gail.” Lillian corrected, and Jack pressed her onto her back and came over her, smiling down at her.

  “I find that hard to believe. Are you ever going to tell me your age by the way?” he asked, as his fingertips barely touched the sensitive skin of her side.

  “Jack Stone, don’t you know that it is rude to ask a lady of her age?” Lillian smiled up at his handsome face. Jack rolled his eyes heavenward, and when he met her gaze again he was still smiling.

  “Even the woman that I plan to spend the rest of my days with?” A dark blonde brow rose inquisitively. Days? Oh Jack! I’m afraid that I will never even be able to spend even one day with you in the lethal sunlight. “Come on! Out with it, woman. How old are you?” Jack grabbed her side with tickling hands, and Lillian reached down to still those intrusive hands.

  “Do you really wish to know?” she drew her courage up to ask.

  “Very much so.” Jack leaned over her, and he smacked her lips with a quick kiss. Lillian closed her eyes to gain her courage, and then opening them again, she met the amber intensity in Jack’s gaze.

  “I’m one hundred and eighty-six years old.” she told him honestly. His handsome face drew a blank. He stared at her an elongated second, and then he laughed out loud.

  “Good one.” he quipped, and he laughed some more.

  “No, Jack.” Lillian protested, but just then his cell phone, which had been lying on the bedside table, began to play a familiar ACDC song in loud tones, and Jack left her to reach for it. Lillian watched as he sat up on the edge of the bed. She could hear him speaking on the phone, but her eyes rested on the back of his goldenly tanned, broad shoulders. Such strength, such beauty, she thought as she lifted her hand, and allowed her fingertips to gently trace the lines of the sinewy muscles down his back. His back stiffened suddenly, and Lillian instantly knew that something was wrong. What could possibly have happened now? Could it truly get any worse? Lillian let her hand fall away in disappointment. She knew that she would not be able to tell Jack the truth about herself this night. Obviously, it just wasn’t the right time, she reasoned, but God, she was ready. She was frightened that he would not accept her, or worse that he would think her a monster or a demon, but she could lie to him no longer with her omission of the truth!

  “That was Dr. Harold.” Jack stated in a somber tone as he turned back to face Lilly. She laid there, the sheet pulled to just above her breasts. She had come there tonight just when he had felt his mind could take no more. Four mangled, bloodied bodies had been discovered just that morning, and Jack had had the day from hell. He had needed her, he thought as he met and held her beautiful gaze. He had needed her, and she had come to him.

  “Something’s wrong?” she guessed intuitively. She seemed to be able to do that well, read him, know exactly what he needed from her when he needed it. God, how lucky could one man be? Leaning over, he treated her to a lingering kiss that she more than responded to.

  “She needs to speak with me. I’m sorry I have to go out for a little while. You could stay here and sleep. I’ll be back.” He promised, and he turned, reaching for his jeans on the floor. He had just pulled the coarse material up over his hips and sat back down on the bed when Lilly crept up behind him, letting one slender, shapely leg fall to each side of him as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed his neck.

  “But I’m not sleepy, Jack.” she said seductively against his ear. She pressed her lips to his shoulder, and he closed his eyes. He was tempted, damned tempted to turn around and forget all about Dr. Harold so that he could jump back into bed with the woman that he loved.

  “I shouldn’t be long.” he said, and Lilly groaned softly, and moved back away from him. “Don’t be like that.” Jack smiled as he stood, pulling on his shirt. Her eyes were on his stomach as he pulled his t-shirt down into place, but they lifted to his when the skin disappeared beneath his shirt.

  “Like what?” she asked. Rising, perfectly comfortable in the nude, she gathered her clothes, and began to pull them into place. Then again, why would a woman as stunning as Lilly be uncomfortable with her body, Jack thought lustfully, and she turned offering him a smile as if she had heard the compliment he had not spoken.

  “You’re leaving?” he asked knowingly, and she moved into him, her hand splaying across his chest as her lips hovered teasingly over his mouth.

  “If it will only take you a few minutes, as you say, then you won’t mind if I come along for the ride? I’ll wait in the car.” she promised, sounding like the bad girl, promising to be good. Jack grinned. He took the kiss that she offered, his hands tangling in her hair as he tilted her head back, and kissed her more fully.

  “You won’t get bored?”

  She shook her head negatively. “You can drop me at home afterward.” she suggested.

  “I think I’d rather have you here waiting in my bed.” Jack groaned out. Lilly kissed him for his statement, but she moved away, and continued to dress after.

  “You never stay.” Jack accused in complaint. “Why?”

  “That,” she said, turning to face him. “Is one of the things we need to talk about.”

  “What is it? Are you married?” Jack teased, and Lilly shook her head. “What then?”

  “It’s a long conversation. One that you don’t have time for tonight, Jack.” She said, as she retrieved her boots and pulled them into place. Standing, she was ready to go, but Jack still had to find his shoes. Frowning, he bent to find his missing left shoe beneath the foot of the bed. He was still frowning when he sat down to pull the shoes on.

  “You came here tonight to finally talk to me, didn’t you?” he asked knowingly, and she tipped her beautiful head to a side, staring at him intently, but not answering. “I can call Dr. Harold back.” he was saying when she cut him off.

  “It could be about your case, Jack. What I have to say can wait.” Lilly insisted, and she walked from his bedroom into the dark living room. Jack stubbed his toe on the coffee table when he entered his own damned living room, but he could see Lilly’s shadow already by the front door. How did she do that? She must have some incredible eyesight, he thought as he rubbed the soreness from his foot, and followed her to the door.

  “Tomorrow night, Lilly, just me and you and no interruptions.” he grabbed her by the hand, and made her turn to lo
ok at him. It was a condition, one that he knew she could hear in his voice.

  “Yes, Jack. Tomorrow night.” she promised, and satisfied, he led her out into the hall and locked up.

  Dr. Harold appeared frantic and uncomfortable when Jack arrived at the coffee house. Lilly was waiting for him out in the car. He had made her lock the doors up tight, but he still didn’t feel safe, not after what he had seen this morning. No way! Turning from Dr. Harold’s tall, pacing form, he peered out the large, bay window to see his dark Mustang. He could clearly make out Lilly’s blonde head in the passenger’s side. Heaving a sigh, he turned and walked to meet Dr. Harold who had just noticed that he was there. She turned to face him. Her blue eyes were as wide as saucers as she stood there as if shell-shocked. She didn’t speak. She waited for him to speak first.

  “Alright. You got my attention, Nicole. Tell me what you know?” He slid into a booth by the window so he could keep an eye on his car and Lilly. Fifteen minutes ago, Dr. Harold had phoned him with some startling words that he could still not get out of his head.

  “I know who it is, Jack. I know who is doing the killings.” She had announced in an alarmingly, high-pitched voice. He had heard the fear in her tone. He had even imagined that he could hear the beats of her frantic heart. She didn’t look much better than she had sounded, Jack thought as he stared up at her, still standing there, still watching him. Jack motioned to the other side of the table, and she moved suddenly.

  “Right.” she shook herself mentally, and she slid clumsily into the seat across from him. Jack watched as her trembling hands came together on the table. She was clutching a small stack of white papers.

  “What’s this?” Jack asked curiously, and he reached for the papers. She surrendered the papers from her clinging grasp, and Jack frowned over at the woman. She wasn’t acting like her ballsy self at all, he thought. No, Dr. Harold looked as if someone had walked over her grave, had stomped on it repeatedly. Jack’s amber gaze fell to the slips of paper now in his hands. It was an old newspaper clipping he realized. Very old. “1863?” he read the date questionably.