Colin, like Naomi, tried to put a more cautious spin on things. “We don’t want to make any assumptions until we know for certain. It might be Pierre, and then again, it’s still possible it’s not.”
“And how exactly will we know that?” Seriously, they didn’t have a crystal ball. The closest thing they had to that was Adriana, and given that her skills were newly discovered, she wasn’t what Tory would classify as reliable. Her description of a tall, dark vampire certainly fit Pierre, and honestly, she sensed him, had since this whole thing started. Only one other man had been as close to her as Pierre, and given what she’d done to him, that only left Pierre and he had Viola.
She didn’t need to be convinced, though it appeared everyone else needed to be. “It’s him,” she said resolutely. “I’m telling you, it’s Pierre. This is exactly what he’d do to hurt me.”
Colin was still shaking his head. “There’s one way to find out. We’ll ask Clark.”
Naomi’s face registered surprise. “The only one who’ll know how to find Clark is Monsignor.”
“Yeah,” he said grimly, and held out his hand. “Can I borrow your car?”
*
While his guest rested uncomfortably in the trunk, Vlad drove the dark-windowed Mercedes slowly through the streets. A little quieter than last night but he could still feel the discontent in the air. It was amazing what a few precisely placed bodies could do to a city, along with a careful shove to those with small minds.
Little changed over the years. No matter when or where, people were people, which meant they could be whipped into a frenzy with a little bit of specific rhetoric. Prejudice and hatred always existed, even if covered up by polite society. All it took was the right nudge and it all boiled to the surface like bubbling lava, hot and destructive. That’s what he’d done.
He made a large loop around the cathedral after spotting a conspicuous police presence. That was a tad problematic. Not insurmountable but it would require an adjustment in his plans. Knowing that the cathedral hosted the special services, it made sense the good folks of the District would be here on the hunt.
As he came around for the second time, he smiled when he noticed two men with baseball bats swing at a man cornered at a chain-link fence. He wondered what he was, but not because he cared that the humans were about to make hamburger out of him. No, he was just curious.
He continued on his way and was happy when he found a secluded parking spot very near one of the back entrances to the cathedral. He was able to hoist Fatty out of the trunk and put her on her feet.
“Listen,” he hissed in her ear. “You’re going to walk through the doors of the cathedral like a good girl without making a noise, or I will kill you right here. Then I’ll go back and make your friend wish she was dead. You understand me?”
By the way the woman’s body began to shake he was confident she understood completely. Good.
“I’m going to free you from the restraints. Don’t say a word. Don’t try to run. You know what will happen if you do, right?”
She nodded. Satisfied, he removed the gag and untied her hands and feet. From all appearances, they were a man and a woman going into the church for night services. Perfect. The entrance they used was in the shadows, and it appeared they were operating under the radar. As he was sure all the other doors were, it was locked. That didn’t stop him. One well-placed kick and the door opened. He never could have done that when he was a mere mortal. They stepped inside and no one noticed. Even better. He liked things quiet when he was working.
Inside, he again saw no one and heard nothing. So far, so good. He led Fatty to a seat quite near the pulpit that provided a straight line of sight for whoever stood there. Perfect for what he had planned. When he pushed her shoulder, she sank to the empty pew and sat with her hands folded in her lap. A proper woman ready for tonight’s sermon. He’d give her credit for being able to follow directions. That wasn’t always the case and that’s when things got messy. He didn’t like messy.
Now he smiled, his fangs just beginning to show. Anticipation did that to him even when he wasn’t hungry. “Good girl. This will be so much easier if you behave.”
“What do you want from me?” Her voice quavered but she still sat tall. Fatty was a proud one.
“Why, nothing really. I just need you to sit here until our mutual friend shows up.”
“Then what, you’ll kill me in front of her?” Strength was returning to her words.
He kind of liked this show of spunk, and he put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “No, not at all,” he said in a low whisper against her ear. “You’ll already be dead.”
He kissed her ear right before he plunged the small dagger he held in his hand into her carotid artery and then held her snug against him until he felt her go limp. Only then did he stand up so he could slip out of the jacket that now had a bloody sleeve. Her fat-soaked blood had ruined it, so he dropped it on the seat next to her and walked away, leaving her sitting alone and leaning slightly. He intended to exit the cathedral altogether until he noticed how dark the shadows were. Someone could hide there and no one would be the wiser. A nice place to watch them find his little, er, big, present. Leaning against a pillar and shrouded in darkness, he hoped his wait wouldn’t be long.
*
Under any other circumstances Colin would say being here meant he’d lost his fucking mind. This wasn’t about him, though. This was about saving lives, particularly the lives of those he cared about the most. Once upon a time Monsignor would have been counted among those people.
Not any longer.
Ivy had wanted to come with him, bless her heart. She was worried that he’d do something stupid. Good call on her part. He was worried he’d do something stupid too. But tonight there was more at stake than settling a score. He couldn’t afford to let his personal feelings overshadow what he needed to do. Time enough after the current problem was solved to balance the scales.
After giving himself a few minutes to collect his thoughts and marshal his emotions, he got out of the car and walked up the steps of the modest brick home. Lights were on in a few of the windows, and he knew Monsignor would be up. He always was. When he was a kid and living here, he often thought Monsignor must be at least part vampire because no matter what time of night Colin might wake up, he’d be sitting in his study reading, going over reports, or in later years, working on the computer.
As a kid, he’d found that insomnia comforting. He’d felt protected knowing Monsignor was awake and watchful. Now it made him wonder what the man had really been doing in those wee hours. He’d find out. Soon.
He knocked and stepped back, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He didn’t have to wait long. Monsignor Joseph Warren hadn’t changed since he’d last seen him. Even after all these years, he was tall and dignified, and age seemed to have passed him by. Yes, there were small lines around his eyes, but he still looked like the same man who’d been at Colin’s side since that awful night.
Then again, of course he’d been at his side since that night. He’d created the night to get his hands on Colin. At the thought, rage surged into his chest and he wanted to wrap his hands around his neck, to squeeze until there was no longer a breath in his body. He wanted to take the life that had hijacked his.
He didn’t. Not tonight.
“Monsignor.” He was surprised how calm he actually sounded.
A smile creased the old man’s face and his dark eyes lit up—from all appearances, genuine joy at seeing his adopted son at the door. “What a wonderful surprise. Do tell me you’re back.” Monsignor opened the door and motioned for Colin to enter.
He hesitated, not sure he wanted to cross the threshold of this house again. Not doing so made it about him, and that wasn’t right. He suppressed his own rage and walked through the open door. Colin made his way to the familiar front room. He’d done his homework in this room, watched television, spent hours listening to Monsignor tell stories, fallen asleep on
the sofa. This had been his home from the moment everything had changed, his family taken from him. Until tonight it had even felt like home. Now all he felt was cold.
“I’m not back.”
Monsignor looked both confused and sad. Then said brightly, “You just came to visit?”
“No.”
His brow wrinkled and confusion was clear in his voice. “No?”
No sense dragging this out. Besides, he didn’t really feel like spending any more time than necessary under this roof. “I need information. You know what’s happening out there.”
Monsignor’s face darkened. “We have people on it,” he said in the firm voice Colin remembered.
“I’m sure you do, but I want to stop it all before any more die.”
Monsignor laid a hand on Colin’s arm. “I wish you were with us, Colin. You were always the best.”
Colin stepped away. “It’s not going to happen. Not tonight. Not ever.”
Monsignor looked sad and shook his head. “I can’t pretend I understand. I don’t because I thought I taught you better than what you’ve become.”
“We all have things we don’t understand, but suffice it to say that I’ll never be back.”
Monsignor’s shoulders straightened and the man in charge was easy to see. “Well, then you’ll just have to be content to let the hunters take care of things. It’s what they do.”
Colin straightened his shoulders as well. “I repeat, I don’t want anyone to die.”
Monsignor shook his head again before lowering himself into a large leather chair. “I don’t get it, Colin. How can you fight for them? You know what they are. You better than anyone know what they’ve done and what they’re capable of.”
“That’s precisely why I fight for them. I do know them.” Even though he tried not to let it, an edge came into his voice.
“I can’t help you.” Monsignor closed his eyes and ran a hand through his short, white hair. For a second, Colin caught sight of the old man he really was. When he opened his eyes again, that man was gone.
Colin didn’t budge. “You will help.”
He looked up at Colin with a puzzled expression. “You know I can’t.”
Blowing out a breath, Colin said slowly, “You owe me.” His gaze didn’t break from Monsignor’s face.
Monsignor tilted his head and looked puzzled. “I owe you?”
“You owe me.” Colin said the three words even slower, his eyes boring into Monsignor’s. Finally, he saw with satisfaction the moment that comprehension struck. Monsignor’s shoulders slumped and a shadow seemed to pass over the man. The old man came back.
“What do you need?”
Chapter Twenty-two
Naomi opened the lower-level entrance door to the cathedral with the key only a handful of people possessed. She was jittery and passed it off to everything that had happened over the last few days. Silently, they all entered through the door and she walked to the wall where a light switch was located. The room brightened.
The crypt was as safe a place as any for Riah, Ivy, and Tory. She’d been uncomfortable leaving them at the house with the chaos that was everywhere. Even driving the short distance from her house to the church had her shaking. Now that they were here, she hoped to keep them from harm. Nathan’s concerns were not misplaced and she had them front and center in her mind.
In one of the small rooms in the cavernous lower level, she settled the three women at a wooden table. The work to identify the mastermind behind the outbreak of violence in the city had to continue.
“The wireless connection may not work here. These old concrete walls are great for stability but less than optimal for modern technology. It’s worth a try, though.”
“Do you have a landline available down here?” Riah asked. “If all else fails, I’d like to call some people out there who might be able to fill in some of the blanks.”
Good idea. She might have thought of it too if it weren’t for the fact that she was terribly rattled. Who would have ever guessed that the skilled vampire hunter Naomi Rand would be all atwitter because of a war outside her door? After all, hadn’t she been fighting a war since she was fresh out of college? Despite the years she’d been out of the game, she still knew what the battle would require. She was ready if she had to be.
Even so, this was different. She’d been so idealistic back then, so full of herself. She’d been absolutely convinced there were two sides and only two sides—good and bad. She was on the side of good, all vampires were on the side of bad. No exceptions.
She would have told anyone who asked her back then that she was principled and faithful, that God was one hundred percent on her side. Those were her excuses for living life with blinders on and the church…oh, the church and Monsignor…always at the ready to reinforce her narrow-visioned belief.
The difference between then and now? These days she could admit she’d been full of hate for something she didn’t understand. Believing in black and white was easy and, most of all, safe. She’d embraced ignorance and she’d been wrong. All of it came with a very high price tag.
She didn’t want to be like that anymore. Despite being terrified right now, she wasn’t about to let hate win, even if it meant her life. The world wasn’t black and white but many glorious shades that she’d learned to appreciate, even love. She could never go back to an either / or existence, and it might very well cost her life. If she died this night, at least she’d know she tried to stand up for what she believed in and what she knew in her heart was right.
Settling Riah before a telephone, she headed upstairs. Adriana came with her. She didn’t think she needed backup, but Adriana had been adamant about watching out for her. It wasn’t hard to understand what Riah saw in her. Naomi was going to miss them all when they went home. If they went home, but she didn’t want to think about that possibility. She planned to hold on to the belief that they would all live through this.
“You think anybody will show up tonight?”
Standing in the nave, Naomi looked around. “Well, attendance will probably be light, but it’s important that I be here even if no one comes. The preternaturals have to know they have humans here to help them. It’s hard enough for them as it is. I don’t want them to think I’m only a fair-weather friend.”
“I’d bet my last nickel that nobody considers you that. You kick ass, if I haven’t mentioned that to you before.”
“Thanks.” She appreciated Adriana’s words. They went a long way toward lightening the heavy load on her shoulders. “You’re very sweet.” Adriana gave her arm a gentle squeeze.
“Hey, look.” Naomi pointed. “At least one person showed up. The bastards aren’t winning yet.”
The lone woman sitting near the front of the nave and facing the great choir struck her as odd, and not just because she was leaning a bit as if she were asleep. It wasn’t unusual at all to find someone sleeping in the pews. No, this was different. Naomi wrinkled her brow as she studied the woman, noticing the pale-brown hair and ample girth even from where they stood in the back of the church. Hadn’t she seen this woman somewhere before?
As she studied her, a sick feeling started in her stomach and spread. With a cry, she took off at a run. “No, no, no!”
Adriana hesitated only briefly before she was on her heels so close Naomi could almost feel her breath on her neck. She reached the pew in a matter of seconds, the metallic scent of fresh blood growing stronger with each step. A sob spewed from her throat as she saw Viola’s pale, lifeless face.
*
Tory attempted to concentrate, but no matter how hard she tried, she kept thinking about her home, or rather the pile of ash it was now. Nobody doubted it was arson, and in true twenty-first-century style, it was fully insured. Certainly she was sad about losing her paintings, sculptures, and the other items she’d picked up along the way, but it wasn’t the loss of her things that made her sad. Things could always be replaced.
The threat behind the arso
n made her feel incredibly vulnerable. Maybe she’d just been deluding herself all along. She’d gotten so comfortable with the life she’d invented here that she’d missed the warning signs. Could be because she wasn’t looking, and that wasn’t like her. She always knew when she’d been made, or at least that was true in the past.
Someone in DC had made her, and she’d been oblivious. Dangerous didn’t even begin to describe what that meant. So far it had only cost her a home. She didn’t want to think about what would be next. She worried less about herself and more about the others. The mere fact that they were in her immediate presence could be fatal.
Her eyes were wide open now, and she had a gut feeling that the torching of her house was only a warning. Whoever it was wanted more from her than physical possessions. They’d wanted to shake her to the core and they’d succeeded in grand style.
She hadn’t wanted to believe Viola when she’d declared she was at the center of the discontent rolling through the city like an ocean wave. Why would she? For almost two centuries she’d kept her head down and her secrets close. After that night in the cemetery, after what she’d been forced to do to Roland, she wanted nothing more to do with anyone. Caring about people, loving them, only ended in misery. The cost was higher than she cared to pay. Besides, it wasn’t fair to put others in such a dangerous position.
For all her careful attention to a state of isolation, she’d failed big—not just for herself either. So far, it had cost the life of a woman who’d never hurt another soul. For as long as she lived, she’d always think of Belle and how just knowing her had destroyed the poor woman. She’d see the image of her stretched out on the steps, her eyes sightless and her meager possessions scattered across the concrete every time she thought of her. The ache would be with her forever.
Tipping her head back and taking a deep breath, she tried to shake off the melancholy. Feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t help anyone, least of all her. It wouldn’t bring Belle back, and they had to concentrate on finding Sunny and Viola. She wasn’t about to let Pierre, or anyone else for that matter, hurt either woman.
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