Dissolving into mist, Battista floated over the fence, then slipped under the back door. Once inside the cottage, he assumed his own shape. Standing in the dark, he listened to the sounds of the house, then followed the siren call of Victoria’s heartbeat. It led him through a small door in the kitchen and down a flight of stairs that ended in the cellar.
The frantic beat of her heart came to him more loudly now, as did the sound of her breathing, rapid and afraid.
A second door led into a larger room swathed in darkness.
He found Victoria chained to the wall across from the door, her arms drawn over her head, held in place by a pair of heavy silver manacles that gleamed even in the dark. A second set of manacles bound her ankles. For a moment, her appearance startled him, and then he realized she was wearing a Tinkerbell costume and the odd protrusions at her back were wings.
He moved quickly to her, wondering, fleetingly, how Falco had managed to bind her with silver chains, but his relief at seeing her alive and well overcame every other thought.
She gasped when he placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Shh, my sweet one.”
“Antonio! Oh, Antonio.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“Oh, Antonio.” From the doorway, Dimitri Falco’s voice mimicked Victoria’s.
Battista whirled around, quietly cursing as Falco’s familiar stink stung his nostrils.
“Kill him!” Falco’s voice echoed off the stone walls.
Four hulking shapes moved past Falco. With his preternatural sight, Battista saw the vacant expression in their eyes, knew that Falco had bent their minds to his will. Two of the zombies carried long wooden stakes. The other two carried vials of holy water.
Falco screamed, “What are you waiting for? Kill him, you fools!”
The zombies carrying the holy water threw it in Battista’s direction. He raised his arms to protect his face, swore as drops of water sprayed over his hands, face, and neck like acid rain.
The zombie nearest him lunged forward, the wooden stake clutched in his fist driving toward Battista’s heart.
With a cry, Antonio dissolved into mist and fled the room.
Traveling on the wings of the night, he returned to the diner in search of Duncan.
He found the hunter seated at a back table devouring a steak.
Tom looked up, startled, when Battista suddenly appeared in the chair across from him. The vampire looked even worse than he had before. Fresh blisters spread like freckles across his cheeks.
“I need your help,” Battista said urgently. “Now.”
“Yeah, right.”
“We have no time to waste. I know where Victoria is.”
Duncan dropped his fork on the table. “Let’s go.”
Bobbie Sue hurried toward them. “Tom, where are you going?”
“To get Victoria. See ya later.”
“Wait! I want to go.”
“No! You stay here!” Duncan said, and followed Battista out into the night.
“My car’s this way,” Duncan said.
Moments later, they were at the house in the hollow.
Duncan killed the engine and turned off the light. “You think she’s still here?”
“Yes,” Battista said curtly. Getting out of the car, he started toward the house.
“Hold on a minute,” Duncan called.
Battista grimaced as Duncan opened the trunk of the Camaro and pulled out a stake, a hammer, and a large bottle of holy water.
Duncan grinned. “Let’s go.”
He stopped grinning when two Dobermans materialized out of the darkness, barking frantically. “You got a plan for getting past the dogs?”
Taking hold of the padlock in one hand, Antonio gave a sharp jerk and it came away in his hand. “Wait here,” he said, and slipped through the gate.
Growing, both dogs walked stiff-legged toward him. And then, as his gaze met theirs, they dropped to the ground, tails wagging.
Without waiting to see if Duncan was following, Antonio headed for the back door. As expected, the iron security door was locked. Grasping two of the bars, he gave a good hard yank. There was an unearthly screech as the bolts were torn out of the wood.
Tossing the iron grate aside, he kicked in the wooden door.
He had no sooner done so than the four zombies rushed toward him out of the darkness, illuminated by a faint shaft of moonlight.
He grabbed the first one and broke its neck.
Muttering an oath, Duncan drew his revolver and fired three quick shots. It dropped the remaining zombies in their tracks.
Grunting softly, Battista hurried down the stairs to the basement. The smell of fresh blood grew stronger as he neared the door.
Victoria’s blood.
Opening the door, he rushed to her side, grief and rage welling from deep within him when he saw the gaping wound in the curve where her neck and shoulder met.
Throwing back his head, he howled his rage.
Duncan stood in the doorway, stake in one hand, .38 in the other. “Is she dead?”
“Not yet.” Antonio reached for the manacle that spanned her right wrist, only to jerk his hand away, hissing with pain, as the silver blistered his flesh.
“I don’t suppose there’s a key?” Duncan asked.
Battista shook his head.
“Then we’ll have to do it the hard way. I’ll be right back.”
Battista stroked Victoria’s brow. “My sweet one, can you hear me?” He stroked her cheek with his uninjured hand. Her skin was cold beneath his fingertips, her breathing shallow. Ripping a strip of cloth from his shirttail, he wrapped it around the hideous wound in her throat.
He looked up as Duncan ran into the room, a pair of bolt cutters in his hand. In moments, he had cut through the chains. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll worry about the cuffs later.”
With a nod, Battista put his arms around Victoria, holding her upright while Duncan cut the chains at her feet. As soon as she was free, Antonio swung her into his arms and carried her up the stairs and out of the house. The dogs whined softly when he went out of the gate.
He watched impassively as Duncan set fire to the house.
“He won’t be coming back here, that’s for damn sure.” Duncan glanced at Victoria. “Is she…?”
“She is alive.”
“We’d better get her to a doctor. I think she’s going to need a transfusion right quick.”
Battista hesitated, reluctant to let anyone else look after her. His own blood was far stronger than the blood of mortals.
Looking up, he met Duncan’s gaze.
“I know what you’re thinking,” the bounty hunter said. “Are you sure that’s what she’d want?”
“No.” He knew it wasn’t what she wanted, but what he wanted. He carried Victoria to the car and got in, cradling her in his arms while Duncan drove to the hospital. The cuff on her left wrist burned even through his clothing where her arm rested against his chest, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now but saving her life.
The hunter’s Camaro was old and beat up, but it hauled. Duncan pulled into the hospital emergency parking lot five minutes later. Leaving the motor running, he hopped out of the car and opened the door for Battista, then turned and ran into the building, hollering for help.
An orderly hurried out with a gurney.
Antonio was reluctant to surrender Victoria’s care to anyone else, but he placed her gently on the gurney, then followed the orderly inside. Duncan was standing at the nurse’s station, filling out the required paperwork, explaining that she’d had an accident on the highway out of town.
Slipping around a corner, Battista dissolved into mist, then went into the examining room where they had taken Victoria. The doctors and nurses worked quickly, washing and stitching the raw wound in her neck while another nurse set up the necessary equipment to replace the blood Falco had taken. He wondered what the medics would think if they knew what had really happened to her.
He listened to the quiet conversation of the doctors and nurses as they worked. Between asking for instruments and calling out Victoria’s vital signs, they speculated on how she had received the wound in her throat and why there were manacles on her wrists and ankles.
“Car accident indeed,” the doctor said. “More like some sort of sex game that went wrong.” Removing his gloves, he stepped away from the table. “I think you’d better call the police first thing in the morning. They’ll want to talk to her when she wakes up. And see if you can get hold of a locksmith to come over and get those cuffs off her.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Half an hour later, Victoria was tucked into a hospital bed between crisp white sheets. A locksmith had removed the shackles from her wrists and ankles, ointment had been applied to the abrasions they had left on her skin.
Battista stood beside her bed, his hand holding one of hers. Her color looked a little better, her breathing was less labored. Her hair framed her face like a fiery halo.
He vanished from sight each time a nurse came in to check Victoria’s blood pressure, reappeared the minute they left the room.
He remained by her side through the remaining hours of the night. As dawn threatened to chase the darkness from the sky, he brushed a kiss across her cheek, whispered that he loved her, and hastened to his resting place before the sun could find him.
Chapter 24
Vicki woke slowly, confused by the pungent aromas that flooded her nostrils. Her bed felt strange, her throat hurt, she couldn’t move her left arm.
Opening her eyes, she stared at her surroundings—the pale green walls, the small TV sitting on a corner shelf, the bandages on her wrists, the IV dripping down a tube into her arm.
She frowned. What was she doing in a hospital?
It came back to her in a rush. She had admitted Falco into her home. He had drugged her and abducted her. Things were a little hazy after that. She remembered being locked in a cellar, her arms chained to a wall, remembered Falco’s voice whispering in her ear, describing in dark detail precisely what he intended to do to her. She had seen it all vividly in her mind as he told her exactly how he would drink from her every night until she no longer had the strength or the will to resist him. It would be painful, he said, beyond any pain she had ever known. He would consume her blood and with it all her memories until she was nothing but an empty husk, and then he would flood her mind with his wants, his desires. She would be his slave, subject to his every whim, until she no longer pleased him, and then he would drain her dry and cast her aside.
“You’ve seen my minions,” Falco had said, gesturing at the four creatures who did his bidding. “That’s what you will become.”
Vicki covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a cry of horror as she imagined herself as one of those pitiful creatures. She had to get out of here, had to leave town before Falco tricked her again. Next time she might not be so lucky…
She frowned. How had she gotten here? She didn’t remember escaping from Falco.
She was still puzzling over the matter when Bobbie Sue and Duncan entered the room.
“You’re awake,” Bobbie Sue said brightly. “How are you feeling, hon?”
“Not good.”
“I was so worried about you.” Bobbie Sue thrust the bouquet in her hands into a pitcher of water. “Thank goodness they found you in time.”
“They?”
“Don’t you remember?”
“No.”
Bobbie Sue dropped into the hard plastic chair beside the bed. “Tom and Antonio charged into Falco’s hideaway like the Lone Ranger and Tonto and rescued you.”
Vicki looked at Tom, a question in her eyes. “The two of you? Together?”
“Yeah. You should have seen us,” he said, grinning. “We wiped out Falco’s zombies, grabbed you, and then burned the place down. He won’t be going back there any time soon.”
“You killed them, the zombies?” Vicki asked. True, they had been under Falco’s spell, but once they had been human, with all the same hopes and dreams as everyone else. “Wasn’t there some way to save them?”
Duncan shook his head. “No. Believe me, they’re better off dead.”
“Where’s Antonio? Is he all right?”
“He was fine, last I saw him,” Duncan said. Moving up behind Bobbie Sue, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “We think you should come and stay with us when you get out of here.”
“That’s right,” Bobbie Sue said, covering Duncan’s hand with one of her own. “It isn’t safe for you to be home alone as long as that monster is on the loose.”
Vicki glanced from Tom to Bobbie Sue. “Stay with the two of you?”
A faint blush rose in Bobbie Sue’s cheeks. “Yes, well, Tom’s living with me now.”
“Really?”
“I know, it’s kind of sudden,” Bobbie Sue said with a shrug, “but after what’s been happening the last couple of weeks, I realized life’s too short and uncertain not to grab what you want with both hands.” Glancing over her shoulder, she looked up at Tom. “And he’s what I want.”
“I’m happy for you,” Vicki murmured. “For both of you.”
“So, can we bring you anything?” Bobbie Sue asked. “A nightgown? One of Gus’s cheeseburgers? A chocolate shake?”
“That would be wonderful. Thanks.”
“No problem, girlfriend. So, how soon will you be getting out of here?”
“I’m not sure. I’m waiting for the doctor to examine me. Is Gus terribly upset that I missed work again?”
“Well, he was until he found out what happened. Don’t worry about your shift. Gladys and I will cover for you until you get back.”
“Thanks.”
“Well, we’d better be going so you can rest, hon. Oh, here.” Delving into her bag, Bobbie Sue withdrew a paperback novel and dropped it on the tray. “I thought you might like something to read.”
“Thanks.”
Rising, Bobbie Sue kissed Vicki on the cheek. “I’ll call you later.”
“Let us know if you need anything,” Tom said, squeezing her hand.
He turned to follow Bobbie Sue out the door, but Vicki called him back.
“What is it?” he asked.
“You’re not still going to…to try and destroy Antonio, are you? Not now.”
“He’s a vampire, Vicki. Destroying them is what I do.”
“But last night you were working together!”
“Yeah.” Duncan ran a hand over his jaw. “I know.” He had worked with vampires before, he thought, thinking about Grigori and Ramsey. Maybe it was just another sign that it was time for him to look for another line of work. Lately, he was spending more time with the Undead than the living. “Get some rest,” he said gruffly, and left the room.
The doctor came in later that morning. He looked at her chart and asked a few questions, then examined her wound. He pronounced it healing nicely, but concluded that she should spend another night in the hospital.
With a sigh of resignation, Vicki thanked him, then closed her eyes and slept.
When she woke, her room was filled with dozens of red roses. They filled every available space. She plucked the card from the nearest bouquet. It read, All my love, A.
No one had ever sent her flowers before. She was still smiling when a nurse came in to remove the IV.
A short time later, lunch arrived, along with a box of chocolates and another dozen roses. The card read, I am dreaming of you. A.
After lunch, she settled down with the book Bobbie Sue had left for her, but she couldn’t concentrate on the words. She kept seeing Falco’s fiendish yellow eyes, hearing his voice in her ear as he outlined his plans for her, watching the zombies obey his commands. She wondered who they had been before Falco enslaved them. Three
had been in their thirties; the fourth no more than twenty. And now they were dead because of her.
She shivered with the memory, thinking how sad it was that their families would never know what had happened to them.
Hearing heavy footsteps, she looked up to find Ned and Arnie striding toward her.
“Afternoon, Vicki,” Ned said.
“Hi.”
Arnie nodded at her, then closed the door.
Vicki looked from one to the other. Neither was smiling. Arnie was holding a thick canvas bag. “Is something wrong?”
“We’ll let you know,” Ned said in a tone she had never heard before. “Why don’t you tell us what happened to you last night.”
Vicki’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh, that. It was nothing, just an accident.”
Reaching into the canvas bag, Arnie pulled out a set of heavy silver manacles and held them up. “Really? What kind of accident?”
She stared at him, her mind racing. What should she say? They would never believe the truth. But she didn’t like them thinking what they were obviously thinking, either. She blew out a breath. “I have nothing to say.”
“Like hell! Something went on last night,” Ned said, “and I want to know what it was and who else was involved.”
Vicki crossed her arms over her chest. “It wasn’t anything for the police to get involved in. No one else was hurt.” She swallowed hard, thinking of the four dead men. “I made a stupid mistake. If you want to arrest me for that, fine, go ahead.”
Ned stared at her, his eyes narrowed. “The old house out at the Hollow burned to the ground last night. Would you be knowing anything about that?”
“No.”
Ned swore.
Arnie gave her a hard look, then dropped the manacles back into the bag. “I don’t know what happened,” he said, his voice grim, “but you aren’t doing yourself or anyone else a favor by refusing to talk to us.”
“I’m sorry, but I’ve got nothing to say.”
“If you change your mind,” Ned said flatly, “give us a call.”
“I will.”
Vicki stared after them as they left the room. Maybe she should have told them the truth, she mused, then shook her head. If she started going on about vampires and vampire hunters, they’d think she was insane. Instead of lying in a hospital bed, she would probably find herself in a padded room. So, instead of them thinking she was insane, now they probably thought she was involved in some sort of kinky sex. She wasn’t crazy about that idea either. Crazy, she thought, that was definitely the right word for the way her life had been going lately.
Desire After Dark Page 16
