Kiss Noir (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

by Robynn Clairday

  "Good, old Cobbs." Jen pulled her gloves on and forced a lighthearted tone in her voice. "Does Dumas get excited when you come home?"

  "Dumas is pleased to see anyone who comes to feed him. Crows are venal by nature."

  "Your butler must be glad when you get home. He must get lonely in that big house," Jen insisted.

  Dameon grinned at her and replied wryly, "Calvin is a solitary sort; loyal, yes, but he prefers the quiet of an empty house." His eyes twinkled as he watched her closely. "So, you see, I do need a friend, someone to welcome me when I come home and to enjoy my company just on its own merit."

  "I'm sure there are many candidates eager for the position. Tatiana, for one, looked willing," she said pertly, only half-joking.

  He pulled her closer. His hand cupped her face. "Never Tatiana," he whispered. "There is only one I want." Their lips met. Jen slipped her arms around him, dark thoughts momentarily forgotten. His lips found their way down her face to her throat, and she didn’t feel the cold.

  Trembling, she slid her hands beneath his coat and felt the hardness of his body. She wanted—so much. They broke apart when Dameon suddenly reared back. His face was sharp and strained. He had the tense, wary posture of a wild cat scenting an enemy. For a second, Jen feared he was having another attack similar to the one the other night.

  "Do you need your medicine?" she whispered anxiously.

  "No, it's nothing. I just had a feeling..." He stepped out of the car. "Let me look around for a moment." ‘

  Jen's heart momentarily stood still as she watched out the window. It was so dark, so inky black that anything out there could be completely hidden. It was also utterly silent, no wind blowing, no rustling noises of night life, no other cars driving by—nothing. She could have sworn she saw movement in the trees across from her house.

  She squinted at the tall tangle of black shapes and shadows and saw one of the shapes change position. Fumbling, she jerked open the door, for once forgetful of the expense and antiquity of the car. Sharply, she called to Dameon. He turned and she pointed. "I think I see something across the road, in the trees, there.."

  "I'll go look. Wait here for just a moment, chérie." With that, he virtually disappeared into the shadows. Jen's nerves tightened and her senses were heightened as she strained through the darkness to see him. It was as if the night had swallowed him up. The thumping of her heart grew louder in her ears. She steeled herself and forced herself to step out of the car, forcing back the cowardly instinct to lock herself in.

  "Dameon," she whispered, feeling exposed and vulnerable. A hundred images of terrors both real and make-believe flashed through her mind. She choked back a scream when he appeared behind her.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you." His teeth glinted whitely as he smiled reassuringly at her. Her pulse slowed and she felt her body go limp with relief. The brush with terror had certainly put the damper on their ardor.

  She touched his sleeve. "Was there...something out there?" She was tempted to close her ears, unwilling to listen if the answer was an affirmative.

  He shrugged, giving her an insouciant smile. "It was an animal, possibly a raccoon. We frightened it more than it frightened us." He put his arm lightly around her shoulders. "Are you ready to turn in for the night? Come, I'll walk you inside." His eyes were teasing as he said, "And maybe, I'll tuck you in if you are a good girl."

  Jen cast him a mischievous smile, happy to feel good and normal again, and glanced at him sideways through her lashes. "Maybe I'll let you."

  After carefully checking each room and the locks on all of the doors, he kissed her gently goodnight at the doorway of her bedroom. Jen urged him to stay, fear and desire causing her to cast dignity aside. She tried not to sound as if she were begging.

  For one moment, he looked as if he might cave in, but instead, he laid his fingertips lightly against her cheek and said, "I had better leave while I still can."

  It was later, snug under the cover, she realized Dameon had been trying hard to make light of whatever he saw in the woods, and that he had been trying to keep her from being frightened. Something had aroused his concern. Jen shivered. Now she was really frightened. She closed her eyes in hopes of sleep.

  * * * *

  Tatiana flew back from the Grenville woods to her hotel room. Dameon was playing right into her hands and she should be pleased. He was worried about his precious pet human, and obviously would try to shield her from Tatiana. He actually thought that the ridiculous creature was the real target.

  Fool, she thought in disgust. How could he not figure out what she was really up to? Was he that besotted? Bitterness gnawed at her. Even the two young males and the ounce of cocaine they so generously shared didn't ease her need. Even the amusing antics performed by the young car thief didn't sate her hunger. Things weren't moving fast enough, but she had to be patient, or she might tip off Dameon.

  It wasn't fair, she thought savagely. How could he covet that pasty-faced human? Was he demented? Watching him touch her sickened Tatiana beyond endurance.

  She paced her hotel room and kicked at the heap of expensive clothes strewn on the floor. He'd pay, she tried to comfort herself. He'd pay dearly. Her face twisted and she scooped up a black leather coat. With long, pointed fingers, she began to rip it into shreds, her mind whirling with feverish plans. Her plan would work, she decided. And it was only right that if she had to suffer, then everyone else must suffer as well.

  * * * *

  Dameon was concerned. He had scented Tatiana's presence in Jen's woods, his radar snapping to red-alert. His senses had been dulled by the distraction of his feelings for Jen. Tatiana must have been crowing with delight over that. Not that he gave a damn what she thought. Her opinions didn't matter, and never had.

  Tatiana was lurking out there, not taking his threats seriously. He knew she was after Jen. She was relentless when aroused. And that's what disturbed him.

  I have to protect Jen from her.

  The black crow was keeping him company. It cawed, sharing Dameon’s distress. He stroked its sleek feathers reassuringly. He could protect her. Mentally, he could shield her from the danger. But it might not be enough. The menace was powerful. He might have to call forth more of his own vampire powers. It was not what he wanted. He didn't want to sink back into that dark, destructive world. But he would, for Jen, who he loved more than his own life. He would go to hell and back.

  * * * *

  This was a new dream—a monstrous, evil dream. She was being suffocated by a figure in a black mask, red eyes glowing through the slits, enormous pressure on her neck and chest. She tried to call out, to shout for help, but was paralyzed. Unable to utter a single noise. Her heart seemed to be slowing to a stop. A woman's voice purred like a cat's in triumph.

  The evil voice hissed in the night. "You're nothing but a corpse—old, dead and useless. You're nothing...nothing..."

  Jen struggled to scream. Her heart was a swollen knot in her chest. She called out for Dameon, though no words passed through her lips. As a crushing darkness descended, she felt herself being pulled free and carried away from the menace.

  A solid thump on the bed wakened her with a nerve-shattering start. Gasping and trembling, she made out the figure of Cobbs, who had leapt up to join her.

  "Here, boy," she croaked. He squeezed under her arm and whimpered. Jen peered into the darkness, trying to assure herself that only she and Cobbs were in the room.

  She had the horrible feeling that something was staring at her from behind. Shaking, she forced herself to slowly turn, pushing the bed covers away. Her eyes found the window, a thin beam of star and moon light pouring through. She froze, and her heart died. In that split second, she saw eyes, red and glowing, watching.

  Terrified, she grabbed for the lamp on the night table, sending it crashing splintered to the floor. By now, Cobbs was softly growling. Jen dove for the light switch on the wall. Immediately, the room was swamped with light, and Jen saw the window
, but no eyes looking in.

  The mirror on the wall seemed to flicker and undulate. Sweat pouring and her breath coming in jerks, she moved toward it, afraid of what she would find. For a second, the mirror was curiously blank, and then, the image came into focus. It was Jen's face, but a perversion of her normal face. The reflection staring back at her was decayed, rotting from the bones of her face. It was herself as corpse, a hundred year old corpse, skull protruding through the putrefying flesh.

  "Dead, dead," the mocking voice rustled behind her. The horrific reflection stared back at Jen. She screamed shrilly in a voice not her own, shattering the vision. The image changed to the normal one, except that her face was bone white, and her eyes were enormous and glazed-looking.

  Heart racing violently, she collapsed onto the bed, closing her blurred eyes and trying to soothe her fiercely throbbing stomach. By this point, Cobbs was wailing under the bed, his black nose showing beneath the covers. Jen let out a weak laugh, which nearly crumbled into tears.

  It was a trick of some sort. Either her imagination, or...something else. Fighting the urge to join Cobbs under the bed, Jen gave herself a stern lecture. It was time to grow some backbone. If she kept hiding, she'd never get the chance to live her own life. It was time to conquer her fear, even if it meant confronting evil.

  On jellylike legs, she dragged on sweat pants under her T-shirt and slipped her feet into loafers. "I've had it with being frightened all of the time, Cobbs." she said out loud. "I'm so scared to breathe that I'm getting worse than Mrs. Joslyn. Soon I'll be afraid to leave my bed. I'm going out there and taking a look. As a matter of fact, I'll take my Olympus to record anything out there. If I don't do this now, I'll never take night shots again." Cobbs' nails clicked behind her. "I'm sorry, boy. You have to stay inside."

  She took a deep breath. She didn't want to expose him to any danger. Which made her question her own sudden spurt of valor. "I'm going out alone. Wish me luck, Cobbs." Jen grabbed her keys and her old, denim jacket, and tucked her camera case under her arm. Moving quickly, before she could change her mind, she stepped out into the cold, silent night.

  Chapter Ten

  "Okay, Jen McNeily," she said out loud, injecting false confidence in her voice. "This is it, are you woman or mouse?" She giggled nervously. "Squeak, squeak. But you've got to take back your life, and stop being such a chicken." Jen continued to chatter to herself, pretending she wasn't alone and wasn't scared. Her pulse slowed to normal as her hands began to set up her tripod, going through the motions, which were second nature by now.

  The routine soothed her as she adjusted the lens and shutter speed, loaded the high-speed film and peered into the viewer, focusing toward the trees across the street. And waited. Night shots took time. A rabbit hopped by, the only company she had so far. "I'm not afraid of you," she said out loud in a wisp of a voice, challenging the darkness.

  Trees softly shook and lost more of their remaining leaves. After a half a dozen shots, she collected her camera equipment and turned to go back in the house. She was starting to feel more relaxed, calmer, when a faint noise made her quickly spin around.

  Something gleamed in the darkness and seemed to move closer to her. Without thinking, she aimed her light meter and began snapping the flash. Whatever it was retreated into the darkness, away from the flashing meter. And Jen could have sworn she felt a waft of anger coming from the unseen thing. As fast as possible, she opened the door and double locked it behind her. With a deep sigh, she collapsed in the kitchen chair and waited for morning.

  * * * *

  Without her own darkroom, Jen was forced to take her film the next day to a developer, who assured her she could get her prints tomorrow at the higher rate for a rush job. Outside, it was already dusk. Soon it would be getting darker earlier, once daylight savings kicked in on Halloween, which was only two days away.

  Jen pulled her navy woolen coat shut and blew on her fingers. She needed proof that something was going on. Most of all, she wanted to know who or what was stalking her. She didn't like feeling that she was a helpless victim of some orchestrated, evil plot.

  Jen was pulling into the driveway when she heard the phone ring and, at the same time, saw Rita Irman was waiting for her on her step, looking clearly agitated. She considered driving away and hiding, but wanted to get out of her work attire, especially the panty hose and pumps. She was utterly drained and stiff all over from her ordeal last night.

  Grabbing her mini-pizza-to-go, she stepped out. Immediately, Rita charged down the driveway toward her. "I've been waiting for you!" Rita shouted. "Wait till you see it."

  Jen felt a deep reluctance to hear what Rita had to say, and she forced down the ridiculous urge to roll up the windows and lock the car doors. "What's wrong? What's happened?" She kept her voice calm as Rita's face grew red and grim.

  "I called the police at least a half hour ago." She frowned angrily. "I don't know where they are—humph, some public service."

  "Show me. I have no idea about what you are talking about." Rita was still grumbling under her breath about the police while she led Jen around her house into the backyard. The phone finally stopped ringing in the house. She stepped around the corner. A mid-sized weeping willow, still fully leafed, stood smack on the border of her property, which abutted Rita's. If Rita hadn't prepared her, she would have collapsed from shock. The weeping willow tree was draped in garlands of garlic. A thick, white powder circled the tree.

  "I think it's salt," Rita said in an odd voice, watching Jen. "I just got a good look at it."

  Dropping her pizza box to the ground, Jen slowly moved closer. Someone had written in black paint on her lawn, much like Mrs. Joslyn's. Except the writing was larger...and more evil. Protect against the evil blood drinkers. Even the devil's whore must be protected.

  Jen felt her blood congeal in her veins, and for a second, it felt as if the oxygen had been drained from her lungs.

  Rita frowned. "Just the other day, it was burning crosses, which is sacrilege, and now this. It's weird, Jen. Especially weird that they targeted you." Rita's dark eyes were inscrutable as they studied Jen closely.

  "It wasn't just me, Rita," Jen answered quickly. "What about the duck at the lake and..." She stumbled, almost mentioning the doll. She'd forgotten she'd kept it a secret.

  "But," Rita persisted, "this seems more personal." She gave Jen a long stare. "Do you know why?"

  "Of course not," Jen snapped, frightened for some reason. "Why would you—”

  She was interrupted by a silver and blue, marked police car with flashing lights, which came barreling up the driveway, narrowly missing Jen's car. A tall, young policeman sauntered toward them, looking bored and irritated.

  "Will someone explain to me what's going on? First, I hear someone found cocaine in their yard, and now I hear it's salt," he demanded in a loud, irritated tone.

  Jen sent a quizzical look in Rita's direction, who glared. "I thought the salt was cocaine, an obvious mistake. When you see white powder, what else are you supposed to think?" she demanded belligerently

  The young officer, Officer Fernando, according to his badge, glared at them suspiciously. "Look, ladies, our department has been called enough times by you people for frivolous reasons. If this is some kind of joke..."

  "Mrs. Irman, my neighbor, telephoned you because someone has..." Jen stumbled over the words. "…vandalized my property and painted graffiti."

  An hour later, exhausted and starving, Jen trudged up to her front door. The police were unimpressed and, frankly, dismissive of the garlic, the salt and the writing on the grass. They pronounced it a Devil's Night joke, but nonetheless, had taken down the information. The officer had departed with statements from Jen and Rita, the garlic, and the unhopeful comment, that if they "found out anything," they would let her know. When Rita left, Jen had the distinct feeling she was rushing off to share the latest incident with the neighbors.

  Stumbling up the step, she noticed a small, white square
tucked inside her door. Impatiently, she turned on the overhead and studied the object. She had thought it was a flyer, one of those advertisements local carpenters and crafts people passed out. It was a note, scrawled in black magic marker on lined paper, obviously an accessory to the message on the lawn. It said: You are in danger. Don't let evil into your bed.

  Jen was revolted and ripped the note into tiny pieces Crazy fanatics—they were behind this devil and witchcraft stuff. She refused to take it seriously. "Into the waste basket it goes," she said out loud, "where it belongs." She felt nauseated, as if she'd touched something rotten and diseased. She washed her hands with hot, soapy water.

  As she pulled out a cold Coke from the refrigerator, Jen noticed that the answering machine light was green, and that whoever had called hadn't left a message. It was crazy, she knew to use a machine, and not just rely on voicemail. But she was sentimentally attached to her old machine. She realized she had left her carry-out pizza on the patio outside and was too weary and sick to her stomach to get it. Jen kicked off her pumps, too limp to move from the kitchen. The telephone rang. She grabbed Garfield eagerly.

  "Jen? Is that you? You sound so strange, is something wrong?" Dameon was so quick to read her moods, which made it easier to spill out everything to him.

  "You won't believe what's happened now." She took a deep breath and plunged in about last night's events and today's garlic incident. Minutes later, her story told, she lapsed into silence. She felt Dameon's anger radiating over the line.