The Power

by Cynthia Roberts

  “Read the article, Jack.” Dr. Harold encouraged in a shaky tone. Jack frowned. He didn’t have time for this crap, he thought testily, but his gaze fell back to the paper all the same. Where had she found a paper from 1863 anyway, he wondered, but then he saw the internet address printed at the top of the page. Exhaling in frustration, he stared down at the black and white photograph of a young, dark haired man dressed in a dark gray suit. The eyes were bright. He could tell that, even though the photograph was old, distorted and in black and white. “Lord Ewan Derringer died today at the age of fifty-two.” The caption read. “Fifty-two?” Jack scoffed. “It must be an earlier picture then, because in this one, the guy can’t be more than Twenty-four.” he muttered out loud.

  “He looks young, doesn’t he, Jack?” Dr. Harold replied in an eerie tone. Jack glanced up, and met her gaze. The woman was losing it, he thought. She was trembling from head to toe, and looking all around the room, watching the window, watching the door as if she thought someone or something was going to come barreling through it at any given moment.

  “Why am I reading about some man who died in 1863?” Jack tossed the useless paper back down on the table top. Nicole tapped the photograph with her index finger.

  “I know this man, Jack.” she said quietly.

  “How can you possibly know-”

  “I had a date with him last night.” her blue eyes lifted, meeting, and holding Jack’s confused gaze.

  “Are you all right, Dr. Harold?” he asked carefully, and her blue gaze narrowed on him.

  “I’m not crazy!” she hissed. “I know it sounds insane, but I know this man.” she tapped the photograph once more with more vigor.

  “You mean you know someone who resembles him?”

  “No! I know him! Ewan Derringer!” she all but shouted at him. Jack held up his hands in surrender, and leaned back away from the deranged woman.

  “Calm down.” he spoke in a soothing tone, one he hoped she would respond to.

  “Calm down?” She repeated, and she laughed a hysterical laugh that Jack blanched at. The woman was truly on the verge of losing it. Poor thing, Jack thought sympathetically. He had always thought she was a little off though. She seemed to really believe her whole vampire theory. She had even gone as far as to try and prove it, but this, this was something new. Jack didn’t like it one bit. It was one thing to believe a person was nuts. It was quite another to witness that person’s mental meltdown.

  “Jack, this man, this Ewan Derringer…I know him. He…He seduced me. He used his power against me.” she was rambling now, and Jack worried that he was going to have to call someone here to help her, someone to mentally check the poor woman out. Her hand suddenly slammed down on the table. “Please, Jack. Please. I know you think I’m insane, but I can explain everything if you will just listen to me.” she begged, and Jack leaned forward. His heart jumped curiously. He glanced out the window to see that Lilly was still safe and sound, and then he turned back to Dr. Harold and nodded his head for her to go on.

  “When I was a little girl, seven,” she began as her blue gaze swept in paranoia to the coffee shop door. “My parents were killed in an alley. My mother…I don’t know how she knew to hide me, but somehow, she did. I…I sat behind a dumpster in a black alley while my parents screamed in agony, Jack.” her blue gaze came back to him, and Jack could read the pain, the misery within them. He hadn’t known, would have never guessed. How awful!

  “I’m sorry.” he could only to think to say, but even he knew it sounded lame. “Did they ever catch the men who did it?”

  “Men?” she laughed sarcastically. “They weren’t men, Jack. They weren’t human.” she said, meeting his gaze head on. So this was where it all stemmed from? All the talk of creatures of the night, of vampires, it came from the delusional memories of a child who had witnessed the murders of her parents! It was starting to make some sense to him now.

  “You don’t believe me?” she bit out, and she tossed her strawberry-blonde curls back over her shoulder when she looked back to the door.

  “You were just a kid.”

  “I saw their eyes, Jack. They were white, evil! Don’t you see? My parents were the first victims. Twenty-two years ago!”

  “You can’t know that.” Jack protested in a soothing tone that she shook her head at.

  “I do know that! I know that now.” she nodded vigorously. “You see, that night after they had killed my parents, they came for me, but he wouldn’t let them kill me too.”

  “He?” Jack interrupted to ask. Damn. This night wasn’t going to end well. He just knew it! He was going to have to send this poor, pathetic woman to the state hospital. She had so much going for her: looks, brains, wit, and more! It wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve this, he thought glumly.

  “Ewan Derringer. I figured it out, Jack. Ewan was the one there that night. He kept the others from killing me, like they had killed my parents. He told me that he would be back for me, when I grew up. He told me that he would protect me forever.” she said as if remembering that long ago night in her mind’s eye.

  “Dr. Harold, this man, Ewan Derringer, he died in 1863.” he tapped the paper to get her attention.

  “No. He was already dead then too.” she breathed out. “She spoke of him in her journal, of the evil he was capable of.” she was deep in thought now, and Jack wasn’t sure if he should disturb her or not. Her mind was close to snapping, he realized.

  “Who spoke of him?” he asked in a quiet, gentle tone.

  “Lillian.” she whispered, and her frightened eyes lifted to meet his.

  “Lillian?” Jack echoed in surprise at the name, and thinking of Lilly, he turned to look out the window for her. She was still there. She turned, seeing him looking at her, and she held up a hand to wave. Jack waved back, and Dr. Harold’s gaze followed his.

  “You brought someone with you?” she asked, leaning in for a closer look.

  “My girlfriend.” Jack relented. Girlfriend? Lilly was much more than that, he thought, but still the word sounded nice. It was quiet a moment, and Jack worried that Dr. Harold had had enough, that she wasn’t stable.

  “I didn’t recognize him before, Jack.” Dr. Harold whispered suddenly. She was staring down at her printed papers once more as if deep in memory. “I didn’t get a good look at him when I was a kid.”

  “Then how can you be sure that it is him?” Jack reasoned, and he waved the teenager away who had been coming to their table to take their order.

  “The manager told me to tell you folks that you have to buy something if you want to stay inside.” The kid announced, looking embarrassed that he had been forced to deliver such news. Jack scowled over at the portly, balding man behind the counter who was glaring them down. Taking his badge from his jacket pocket he held it out for the obnoxious man to view before replacing it back in his pocket.

  “He looks exactly the same. His name is the same.” Dr. Harold said softly. She was still staring at the photograph as if she thought it might come to life and grab her.

  “You said you’ve been dating him?”

  “Yes, but I think he merely used me. He wanted his journal back.” she whispered.

  “His journal? I thought you said the journal belonged to a woman?” Jack was confused now.

  “It did. To Lillian, but it was in Ewan’s jacket the night my parents died. That’s how I came to own it.” she explained.

  “His jacket?” Jack tried to understand.

  “He placed his jacket over my shoulders before he left me there that night. I found the journal within the lining later.”

  “And you kept it?” Jack inquired. “You were only seven.”

  “Yes, and I couldn’t read it, not really, not yet. I kept it until I was older. I hid it away where no one would ever find it. Then when I was fourteen, I took it out, and I read it. In the journal, Lillian spoke of Ewan, and what he had done to her. She spoke of-” She paused, her gaze coming to meet his in uncertainty.
<
br />   “Of?”

  “Vampires.” she stated plainly. “Ewan was a vampire, and so was she.”

  “Jesus Christ! That’s where you get all this vampire nonsense from? A journal, a story someone wrote?” Jack exclaimed before he could stop himself. It was unbelievable, but he supposed that peoples’ imaginations could play some pretty hefty tricks on them. He had just never thought a woman as intelligent as Dr. Harold would ever succumb to such fantasy!

  “It’s not nonsense, Jack.” Dr. Harold protested angrily. “The journal was dated 1842. Lord Ewan Derringer died in 1863. That has to be more than a coincidence, and so does the fact that this man, this vampire, shows back up in my life now, and then while I was sleeping last night,” she stopped suddenly as if she didn’t want to divulge anymore information.

  “What?” Jack was losing his patience. He wanted to help the poor woman, but she obviously didn’t want his help.

  “He took the journal. He stole it. I haven’t heard from him since. Then that raged massacre happens on the same night he takes the journal? Don’t you see? He was upset.”

  “Upset? Why?” Jack leaned forward angrily.

  “Because he was in love with her.” Dr. Harold stated whimsically. “He had used his power on her once before, made her believe she had fallen in love with him, but then he hurt her terribly, and she saw him for what he truly was. The spell was broken, and she despised him. He knows that he will never have her again, not like he once had. The journal reminded him of all that he had lost, and that is why he lost it last night, why he slaughtered those poor people.” Dr. Harold finished glumly.

  Jack shook his head in disbelief. The woman was truly a whacko! Standing, he prepared to leave. “Can I call anyone for you?” He asked, trying to be a gentleman even though she had pulled him out of bed with a beautiful woman for this shit!

  “Check it out, Jack!” Dr. Harold rose swiftly, and she shoved the paper into his hands. Jack frowned down at the impossible woman. “Please.” she pleaded, and then she turned to walk away from him. Groaning, Jack gripped her elbow.

  “Let me give you a lift home.” he suggested, but she shook her head.

  “I’m not going home.” she replied, and she pulled away from him just as a cab pulled up outside. Jack could only assume that it was for her.

  “Be careful out there.” Jack warned in concern, and she frowned up at him.

  “You should too, Jack.” she said as if knowing something that he didn’t, and then she hurried out to the awaiting cab, and climbed within. Jack watched until the cab was out of sight. He turned to pay his bill before realizing that they hadn’t ordered anything. He nodded to the teenage boy that was still standing, watching him intently, and then Jack turned to go out the door. He looked to the car to see Lilly was still seated within. He exhaled in relief, and turned to go to her when a hard shoulder caught him in the arm. Jack cursed as he heard something hit the ground. Looking down he saw a man bending over to retrieve the wallet he had dropped. Dr. Harold’s papers had fallen to the ground as well. Jack frowned as the man in the dark trench coat retrieved those as well, and handed them back to Jack. Sharp green eyes lifted to meet Jack’s gaze, and an apologetic smile lit the man’s pale face. “Forgive me.” he said in a quick, English accent. “I should have been watching where I was going.”

  “It’s fine. No damage.” Jack said, watching his car.

  “Do I know you?” The man questioned as if he did indeed recognize Jack. Jack turned back to the young man, barely glancing him over. He did look familiar, but no, Jack decided.

  “Sorry. Don’t know you.” he replied. “Have a good night.”

  “Yeah, you too.” The man returned, and he walked off down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. Jack climbed back behind the wheel of his car. He set the papers Dr. Harold had given him in the seat between Lilly and himself.

  “Are you all right, Jack? You look a little shaken up.” Lilly commented, just as Jack realized exactly where he knew the stranger that had just bumped into him from.

  “Son of a bitch!” he growled, and he climbed back out of the car, and stood. His foot was still inside the car as he turned in search of the man who had just been there not three seconds ago, but was now nowhere in sight.

  “What is it?” Lilly cried out from the car. Jack climbed back inside. He hit the steering wheel hard. It couldn’t be! It wasn’t possible!

  “Jack?” Lilly called worriedly, and when he turned to her, he found her staring at the photograph on the printed paper Dr. Harold had given him. “What is this?” she asked with an edge in her voice.

  “I’m thinking I may have just seen a ghost.” Jack muttered, and he started the car, and spun out, going after the man in question. He drove in speed and urgency, searching the streets up and down with no luck.

  “You think you saw this man?” Lilly inquired when Jack at last stopped the car. His white knuckles tightened on the steering wheel in agitation. The man had been playing him! He had known exactly who Jack was, or perhaps, he had been following Dr. Harold, and had been curious to who Jack was? Damn it! He would have to warn Dr. Harold now.

  “Damn it! She came to me tonight! She told me that she knew him, but I didn’t believe her.” Jack cursed beneath his breath.

  “Him? Jack what’s going on?” Lilly’s voice sounded worried, desperate. Jack turned to her.

  “I don’t know.” he shook his head in regret. “Lilly, Hun, I’m going to have to take you home now. I have to check something out.” he thought suddenly.

  “Don’t.” She delivered the plea on a shaken whisper, and Jack turned to her. “Don’t go after him, Jack. You know what he is capable of.” She reminded.

  “I won’t go alone.” he promised, but she still looked scared. Jack took her hands in his, and squeezed. “I’ll pick up Bordello after I drop you off. Look, Hun, I doubt we’ll even find this guy tonight.” he said, trying to make her feel better.

  “Jack, I have to tell you something. I-” she began, but he cut her off quickly by squeezing her hand, and then tucking her chin and kissing her swiftly.

  “I’m sorry, baby, but it’s going to have to wait. I have to figure this out tonight. I’m closer than I’ve ever been. Please, don’t be mad.” he caressed her cheek lovingly. She closed her eyes.

  “Alright. Take me home, Jack, but promise me you will be careful.” her sweet, English accent was more potent in her worry. Jack smiled. He kissed her sweet lips, and he nodded firmly.

  “I’ll be careful.” he promised, and she turned, staring out her window. Jack exhaled. He hated to worry her, but he couldn’t help that. He was a cop, a homicide detective. This is what he did, went after the bad guys, and now, now, well hell, he didn’t know what exactly was going on! He just knew that Dr. Harold in her insane theories may have discovered something factual. No, not a vampire, but perhaps some kind of cover-up. That man, the one that was messing with her mind, claiming to be a man who had died in 1863, he could very well be their man! Ewan Derringer. I know your name now, you sorry sack of shit. I know your name!

  Chapter thirty-two

  Ewan stood on the rooftop above the street Sloan Jackson had just driven away from. To think, if he not followed Dr. Harold tonight then he never would have known how close he was! Sloan Jackson, the sniveling little mortal who had tried in vain to save Lillian in the past was alive and breathing, and right there in New York City. Ewan didn’t know how it had happened, but the man looked and spoke identical to Sloan Jackson. Hell, he even acted like the cocky son of a bitch! Ewan had followed the good doctor in hopes of getting the woman alone and finishing what he had started with her twenty-two years ago! He had not been able to do away with the disappointing mortal within the confines of her apartment. No, there had been too many witnesses that had seen him enter her apartment that night. Even he couldn’t be that bold. Ewan crouched down low, and drawing in a breath that he did not need, he took in the scent of the good detective. Yes, he had seen the badge inside
the man‘s jacket. It appeared the little hero was going by a different name these days. Ewan thought it over. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the name on the badge, he thought in agitation, but how hard would that be to figure out?

  “I got you now, Jackson.” he said lowly, and closing his eyes he savored the precious scent. The good doctor was proving to be of a bit of worth after all. Not only had the breeder provided him with what he had been devastated to find himself without twenty-two years ago, Lillian’s journal, she had also brought him face to face with someone he had never thought to see again. The prick! How dare the man show up alive now! How many times was he going to have to kill this particular mortal?

  “What are our plans now, Ewan?” Martin stepped to the ledge, and put one boot up on it, peering down at the poorly lit street below.

  “Gerald is in pursuit?” Ewan’s dark brow rose curiously. Gerald was fast, faster than any vampire that Ewan had ever known. The vampire moved in a blur of darkness, and even to Ewan’s vampire eyes it appeared as if the man disappeared from view, becoming one with the dark shadows that were a part of the deepest, darkest of nights.

  “He won’t disappoint you.” Martin said firmly. Ewan stood to his tall height. “You are sure this mortal is the same one?”

  “Positive.” Ewan turned, his green eyes burning into his would-be friend.

  “And Lillian?”

  “What of her?” Ewan asked between clenched teeth.

  “Perhaps, she is the other.” Martin put to him. Ewan grinned at the thought. It had been so long, so very, very long.

  “The kills do fit her description, don’t they? Good, decent Lillian. She always tries so hard to do the right thing. Never takes from the innocent.” Ewan mocked, and Martin chuckled in amusement.