Part of her wanted to scream out Dameon's name. But she knew she had to move with caution.
Oh God, her heart was going to explode, she just knew it. Stay calm, she ordered herself. She opened the third door and was disoriented by the total darkness. The stillness and silence frightened her. Maybe she was too late.
"Dameon?" Her voice sounded thin and odd.
A stirring sound caught her attention.
"Jen?" The velvet voice she loved sounded hoarse and shaky. "It can't be...chérie—is that you?" His voice quavered with shocked disbelief.
She rushed toward the voice, her purse banging too loudly against her side. As if in slow motion, she seemed to swim through the dense, airless space.
"Oh, my God, Dameon," she croaked. He was lying on some sort of bed or couch. Through the murky shadows, she could make out his face. She'd known all along that he was in trouble—very ill, maybe even dying—but it was still devastating to see him.
His face, gaunt and colorless, was nearly a stranger's in a scruffy, dark beard. His hair was shaggy and long around a face that was all bones and angles. When she reached to touch him, her nerve crumbled as she realized how dangerously thin he was. A rush of love so fierce and intense washed over her, and she forgot how terrible he looked, forgot everything except that he was here and she could actually touch him. All those weeks of wanting him, aching for him...She threw her arms around him and wept as she covered his face with kisses. She felt wetness on his own cheeks and felt his hand trembling as it stroked her hair.
He caught her face in his hands. "This can't be true. I must be dreaming." His voice wobbled and stopped altogether. His eyes, black and enormous, were swimming with emotion. "I thought it was Evelese—" His voice broke. "I thought she was playing a trick on me."
She kissed his hand fiercely. "It's me, Dameon, and after I get you out of here, I'll give you hell for leaving me like you did." She fought back the new rush of tears, though the skeletal thinness of his hand nearly destroyed her resolve. She had to be strong and get them both out of this house. Something inexorable, ugly and soulless was in this place, waiting to destroy them both.
She saw the glint of his teeth as he smiled. "I don't think I've ever heard you use profanities before."
"I've used lots of them lately," she said, reaching to stroke the hair from his eyes, drinking in his every feature. The pure rush of love was suddenly drowned by a sense of dread, of raw fear. Some ancient internal drive was pushing her, hurrying her to act. They would be trapped. Here. In this place. They had to leave now. "Dameon," she whispered. "Is there anyway you can...get us out of here?"
Reality was dawning on him, too, squelching the joy on his face. "I can not, chérie. My powers are weak. I'm sorry." Anguish shadowed his face, and the absurdly long eyelashes she so remembered lowered over his eyes. "But, you must go, at once." His tone roughened with desperation. "This is no place for you. You don't realize—"
She broke in rapidly. "Dameon, I'm not leaving here without you. Let's get that straight, right now. You and I leave together or not at all." She looked him in the eye so that he could see that she was resolute.
He was still shaking his head while Jen reached to slip an arm under him. She would have to get him on his feet. He would lean on her, and they would have to walk out of here.
Walk right out. Into safety. Right. Wishful thinking, Jen McNeily, the relentless little voice inside of her head intoned.
Despite his extreme thinness, Dameon was awkward to hold, and he was nearly nine inches taller than Jen. He wavered as she tried to both half-lead and half-drag him through the door. The smell in the house was getting thicker. Someone was burning something sharp and musky. Nausea made Jen's mouth fill and she swallowed convulsively.
"This is madness," Dameon whispered. "You must let me go and escape while you can. It's too late for me." He gritted his teeth and sweat poured down his face.
Trembling with effort and breathless, she simply shook her head. A glimpse of his face sent shudders through her. Horrified, Jen realized Dameon was near collapse, or death. If only they could move faster. It was tempting to try and give him an injection from the extra hypodermic she carried in her purse, but somehow, she knew it was imperative to first get him out of this house.
Every step they took seemed to take an eon, though Jen knew it was only minutes. Their progress was excruciating. Every squeak and rattle they made seemed amplified a thousand times over. The stereo continued to blast and thunder in the background, and so far, no one had come to investigate Jen's arrival. Maybe the girl who'd answered the door hadn't told anyone.
They were in the hall, inching toward the main entrance. Please, lord, Jen prayed silently, let us make it. Dameon started to slide from her arms. She strained to hang onto him.
"Dameon," she whispered desperately. "Please, stay awake. I can't do this without you."
Somehow, her voice reached him and he opened his eyes. "I'm awake." His voice was eerily faint.
Jen was completely unprepared. She hadn't noticed the sudden silence, the absence of the thudding music. They were so close to the door, and she was so utterly focused on Dameon that when the honeyed brittle voice came up from behind, her heart nearly seized to a stop. At first, the words were a jumble of unrecognizable sounds to Jen's fear-clogged ears.
In one of those supernatural moves that vampires could so easily engineer, the voice was suddenly directly in front of them. At first glance, the tall woman was ghostly, her hair and face unnaturally white. At a second glance, Jen could see she was actually a very pale blonde and beautiful in a terrible, grotesque way. Her fangs were casually exposed, and longer and sharper than any Jen had ever seen before. The vampire looked even taller and thinner in a skin-tight, black rubber cat suit. She was cool and contained, but the pale, icy eyes were hard and angry.
Her double materialized, standing slightly behind her. They had the same hair and same clothes until Jen realized it was a male.
Chapter Twenty-nine
The strange voice spoke again. "Oh my goodness, we've caught a little thief, and in broad daylight." She leaned down, her face close to Jen's. She towered over Jen by at least a good six inches. "It's very naughty of you to take my favorite little package. I'm afraid I can't let you do it." She stretched out a spidery, long hand and roughly grabbed Dameon by the hair. She smiled and bared her teeth at Jen. "I don't like thieves. Not at all. I really don't. Thieves have to be punished."
Red hot rage flooded Jen's fear-frozen body. How dare this monstrous creature lay a finger on Dameon? Jen yanked him back away from the woman's touch, and tightened her own grip. The move was futile because the vampire could easily pluck him from Jen's grasp. But it made her feel better.
Something insane and violent leapt in the woman's eyes, though the smile on her face widened.
Dameon, through some magical feat of will, straightened. "Evelese." His voice was scratchy, but calm. "You have me. Leave her alone, or..."
"Or you'll what, Mr. Fame." Evelese raised an eyebrow. "You're powerless and you and I both know it."
The male double giggled and came to life. He had been still as a mannequin. "Let's show him, Lesey, just how powerless he is."
Evelese snarled, "Stay out of this, Hollie. Just do as I tell you to."
Her double pouted, but stepped back. Still, Jen noticed that he was effectively blocking the door. The mobiles shifted and clinked , incongruous in the ominous moment.
"Before I let you put your hands on her," Dameon's voice came too soft, but unyielding, "I will end her life myself."
Jen could feel the tremor run through him as he spoke, and knew what it cost him to say those words. Evelese and her twin gaped in shock, momentarily off guard. Now was the time to act. If only Jen could convince her cowardly body of that fact. These two terrified her. They were a million times worse than Tatiana. Somehow, her hand, as if it had a mind of its own, reached and pulled out the double-edged dagger. "I think we've spent enough ti
me talking to these people, Dameon. Let's go," she said in a voice too loud, and thrust out the dagger threateningly. Her hands were damp and trembling, but she kept the weapon steady.
The male twin hissed and bared his fangs, but took another step back, his eyes never leaving the weapon in Jen's hand.
Jen could feel a ripple of surprise move through Dameon, she hadn't had a chance to tell him about her dagger. She tensed, ready to attack, keeping her focus on both vampires.
Evelese snickered and waved a disgusted hand at her twin. "Don't be such a big old wimp, Hollie. She can't take us both out. And while she's fighting one of us, the other will be finishing off our precious Mr. Fame."
Jen didn't blink. She could feel something shifting and building momentum in Dameon. "Don't think I won't kill either one of you. It's just a matter of which one of you is willing to sacrifice your life." She nodded her head and allowed a taut smile to stretch across her face. She saw a flicker of something like uncertainty on Evelese's face. She was the real threat, her twin, just a puppet. Evelese was the one she had to convince. Jen's voice grew more confident as she continued. "It won't be hard. I know where to strike. Right through the head or heart, and you or your brother die."
Evelese smirked at Jen. Her voice was cloyingly sweet, but her eyes were reptilian, pitiless and dead. "My goodness, but you're a smart little human. And brave, too." She fluttered her lashes at Dameon. "I bet our famous little package is very proud of you," she tittered, covering her mouth with her hand. But Jen sensed the silent signal passing between Evelese and Hollie. Jen had less than a second to act. An extra surge of adrenaline flooded her system. Jen prayed Dameon was reading her mind. She had to do it—now.
Without a second's hesitation, Jen lunged forward, the prong of the dagger aimed straight for the female vampire's heart. She was still clutching onto Dameon, but felt him pull free, giving her more latitude and momentum.
Evelese let out an ear-splitting howl and dodged Jen's blow with eye-blurring speed. The blonde giantess flew through the air, fangs exposed, hands like claws reaching for Dameon. Before Jen could react, Hollie was on top of her. He landed with such force that she was knocked windless. She could barely register that her plan had fallen apart. Her lungs winnowed frantically, her heart overloaded to a near stop.
By some rare stroke of fortune, the dagger was still clutched in her hand, though the vampire had her arm so pinned she couldn't strike or move. He drew back his lip, his hot, metallic breath covering her face. Jen struggled to evade the horrifying two-inch fangs, which were descending on her. Through the howls and snarls, she was dimly aware of Dameon fighting for his life. In a frozen parsec, she caught his eye, and watched the expression of sheer terror cross his face as he saw her in Hollie's grip.
Pure instinct took over. Jen felt the graze of shark-like fangs against her neck and butted her head against the vampire's. Her skull throbbed as she slammed it with all the force she could muster. It worked. His bizarrely beautiful face showed ludicrous surprise as he was jostled, his head knocked back. Her reprieve was only momentary and she knew it. Jen, sobbing for breath, was able to free her dagger hand enough to swipe, hoping to find her target.
She missed, unable to connect the dagger with vampire's body. Her arm was still too constricted. She had failed. Her one chance to save them was gone. He gave her an outraged look, his eyes red and hot. He pushed her back, smashing down her torso. She was being crushed alive. In seconds, her ribs would puncture her heart and lungs. He salivated as he poised to bite. She would die from a ruptured heart or be bled to death.
The pressure on her body lifted. Dazed, she watched in disbelief as Dameon raised Hollie above his head. By some miracle, his emaciated, dying body was able to hurl the thin, but much healthier and sturdier, vampire against the room. Out of the corner of her eye, Jen saw a cannonball of movement.
She screamed. Evelese had grabbed Dameon from behind by the throat and threw him easily to the ground. Manic energy depleted, Dameon was helpless. Without thinking, Jen sprang. With more luck than aim, she thrust the dagger with surprising accuracy at Evelese's chest. Something rushed in front of the dagger before it could make contact. It screeched and flailed. Shocked, Jen watched as Hollie, his eyes wide in disbelief, his mouth open and pouring blood, staggered and fell to the floor. He clawed at the spear imbedded in his chest. Blood bubbled and pooled to the floor. His animal wails shattered Jen's eardrums, then abruptly dwindled to a weak gasp. And then, silence.
Evelese, who had been watching in stunned silence, let out a bellow and flung herself on the impaled body of her brother. She yanked out the dagger and hurled it away. Pawing his blood-soaked body until her hands and arms were drenched in red, she clawed at her own face until the blood ran. She pounded her head on the floor while crying his name. Hollie's body began to hiss and smoke. Nauseated, Jen remembered Tatiana.
For what seemed an eternity, the tableau of horror was frozen, and time was suspended.
Jen was paralyzed and could barely react when Dameon hissed in her ear, "Now, chérie, we must go now."
He dragged and tugged her toward the door, panting heavily with effort. Jen stumbled as she looked over her shoulder at the macabre scene—the weeping Evelese and the shriveled, blackening corpse. She had killed a vampire, but still a life. She had taken a life. The words circled around and around but refused to take root. Dameon shook her.
"Jen, I need your help." He clutched at the door, and she realized he was too weak to open it. His face was a death mask, his beard and hair darkened with sweat. He was shaking so violently she could hear his teeth clatter. Like a splash of icy water, she realized he might still die even though they'd won the battle. She grabbed the door and yanked. Luckily, Evelese ignored them, too busy lamenting and shrieking her dirge to notice.
They fell through the doorway, stumbling in a heap outside onto the pavement. The sun was too bright and hot after the dark coolness of the house. Clambering to their feet, neither could speak for a moment as they held each other tightly.
Jen caught her breath. "Shouldn't we get moving? She could still come after us."
Dameon shook his head. "Even she won't risk public exposure. But more important, her powers diminish once she crosses the threshold, and losing her twin has severely weakened her." His voice had faded away as his eyes began to close.
Her fear of losing him rushed back tenfold. "I have your medicine in my purse," she whispered, heart bursting with emotion. The purse was still miraculously hanging from her shoulder.
He mumbled a response she couldn't hear. It was broad daylight, but she had no choice. He was dying. She tried to guide Dameon downwards to sit on the grass and ended up almost dropping him. He lied there, crumpled and scarcely breathing. She knelt beside him on the damp ground. There was nowhere else to go, and time was too short. The mammoth trees, which could've provided shade and support, were too far from the sidewalk. She'd never be able to drag him across the yard.
Her hands trembled as she pulled out the filled hypodermic. She blinked her eyes to clear her vision and struggled to remember Calvin's instructions. She had never given a shot before, had never even handled a needle. She said a quick prayer as she pushed up his sleeve and found a vein. It took her four tries, and she was whimpering by the time she did it right. She injected the entire contents of the hypodermic just as Calvin had directed.
At first, he cried out, but then, fell still and silent. For several long, agonizing minutes, Dameon remained motionless, and Jen could only watch with abject fear and desperate hope.
He's gone, she thought I've killed him. I can't believe—
He opened his eyes. She watched as his lashes fluttered and raised. His black eyes lost their glassy look and sharpened. She exhaled and pressed a hand to chest. Her heart began to beat again.
He grinned at her. "I make a poor Sleeping Beauty, do I not? I only hope I still get the kiss."
With a choked sob, she brushed her lips against his, tears rainin
g down on his face.
He sighed and tried to reach up to embrace her. His arms were too weak, but she bent down to lean her face against his, uncaring that any onlookers might see them.
In a voice husky and raw, he said, "I sorely underestimated you and I'm deeply sorry. How could I not see how brave and capable you are? I hope, chérie, you can forgive me. I was an idiot to leave you without a word..."
"Shhh." She smiled through tears. "Let's not think about that now. Now, I only want to..." Her voice broke and she wept as she stroked and kissed his face.
He struggled to sit up. "We should leave this place, chérie, and put it far behind us. You need to rest and recover. I usually stay at the Fleur Chateau when I need a hotel." He coughed. "A taxi can take us there. You'll have to go one block south on..." He lay back down and closed his eyes.
"I'll figure it out," she said. "I hate to leave you here by yourself, though." She bit her lip nervously. Even though he'd assured her that Evelese wouldn't attack them outside, she didn't like the idea of leaving Dameon alone and helpless while she went off to flag a taxi. The enormous house behind them loomed dark and noiseless. She knew there'd been others inside besides the vampire twins, but so far, no sign of life could be detected. No one had come after them.
The sun beat down mercilessly and she wiped her brow. Her body ached, and she was beginning to feel every bruise and bump. Dameon coughed again. His breathing sounded weak and strained. She had to do something, she told herself, as she rose to her feet. The boy on the skateboard she'd seen earlier came whizzing again up the sidewalk, which gave Jen an idea. She called and waved to him and hurried to his side. They spoke ,and she handed him a handful of money. The boy grinned and sped off. Jen sighed, hoping he wouldn't take off with the money.
Time stood still, and just when Jen had given up hope and was resigning herself to the notion of knocking on strange doors in search of a telephone, a green and white taxi clattered up to the curb. Dameon opened his eyes and staggered to his feet. She slipped an arm around his waist, relieved that he felt a tiny bit steadier. The drug must be working. The taxi driver gave them a curious look and hesitated before opening the door, but shrugged and said nothing as they collapsed in the back seat.
Kiss Noir (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 28