Tall, Dark & Fangsome ib-5

by Мишель Роуэн

  But this?

  This was unbelievable. And yet, down deep, I felt there was a part of me that had always known the truth.

  Okay, that was a big fat lie. I had absolutely no damn idea.

  I launched my web browser and searched the term “red devil,” which brought up links to rock bands and vacuum cleaners. Not very helpful, obviously. I added “vampire” and

  “vigilante” to the equation. That brought up a few obscure references. Nothing solid. I searched for a whole hour until I found one small sketch of him. It wasn’t a good one and it may have been done by someone who never even saw him in the flesh. But the mask was right and the mouth was similar. It wasn’t proof, but it was something.

  There wasn’t much information on him at all, actually, and what I did find only confirmed what I already knew. He saved vampires from hunters and he’d disappeared completely a hundred years ago—coincidentally around the same time Thierry began a century of staying out of the vampire social scene.

  Until he met me, that is.

  Veronique was interested in the Red Devil. She wanted to have an affair with him and had said as much to me. I knew that he’d saved her life a long time ago so they’d obviously met face to face. She’d given me zero indication that she had any idea it was Thierry. How the hell couldn’t she know who he was? I mean, she’d known Thierry for six centuries, hadn’t she? I’d known him for only three months and I recognized him immediately.

  Well, almost immediately. Close enough.

  The next morning, after tossing and turning all night in bed, I called Veronique’s room at the Windsor Arms hotel and she agreed to meet me for coffee.

  “Good morning, my dear,” she began when we met at ten o’clock. “Am I to assume that you are now curse-free and wanted to celebrate with a close friend?”

  She, of course, meant herself. I truly wish I had even a fraction of her self-esteem.

  I pulled out the thousand dollars that remained of what she’d given me and explained to her what happened with the teenaged wizard and the eradication that didn’t happen.

  “I’ll pay the rest back as soon as I can.” I pushed the money across the table toward her.

  “I’m sure I’ll be able to save that much in the next… um… well, I’ll write you an IOU in the meantime.”

  She frowned. “So you’re not cured.”

  “Afraid not.”

  “That is terrible news.”

  “Tell me about it.” I sighed. “If you happen to speak with anyone from the Ring, could you let them know that I’m working on it and for them to pretty please not kill me just yet.”

  “I will certainly do that.”

  She continued to look disturbed by my news, and that made me very nervous. Veronique never looked this disturbed.

  “Is there something wrong?” I asked tentatively.

  “Would you consider having this eradication in the future? Even if it meant losing your memories of being a vampire?”

  I clenched the mug of coffee in front of me. “I don’t know.”

  “Are there any other ways to get rid of this curse?”

  Other than handing over the Red Devil, aka Thierry, on a silver platter and possibly playing evil tonsil hockey with Gideon?

  “I’m still researching some options.” I touched my ugly necklace. “But at least I have the gold chain. I don’t plan on removing it even if it turns my neck green.”

  Her eyes lowered to my throat. “Yes, you do have a Carastrand.”

  I blinked. “A what?”

  She leaned back in her chair and nodded at my chain. “A Carastrand.”

  “I didn’t know what it was called before. And Thierry didn’t tell me.”

  “Thierry doesn’t know everything,” she said simply. “I remember clearly when the nightwalkers existed in great numbers. Mostly in London and Paris. This was in the nineteenth century. They looked so very human. In fact, some of them never developed vampire fangs at all, instead needing to tear at their victim’s throat in a horrifically violent manner.” She shuddered.

  I touched my chain. “I researched it but I couldn’t find any information on it. I figured it was a secret cure.”

  “A Carastrand dampens dark magic and dark natures. That is its purpose. The name is from the Spanish for face, ‘cara,’ which is to mean it is for appearance only. Its strength dissipates quickly, as it takes a great deal of energy to keep nightwalkers in control of their hungers. Unfortunately it’s only a temporary solution.”

  This info came like a sucker punch to my gut. “Temporary?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Thierry didn’t know this,” I said. “Or he didn’t mention it.”

  “Like I said, my husband doesn’t know everything, my dear.” She reached across the table to touch my hand. “I feel that you still have some time. You’ve only had the curse for a couple of weeks, yes? The strand should sustain you for a while longer. But you must take care that it isn’t broken. I witnessed a nightwalker once who wished to control himself, so he wore a strand as you do now. In a fight it was torn from his throat, the clasp broken, and even when repaired it did not work its magic again.”

  “What happened to the guy who lost his strand?”

  “What happened to all the nightwalkers,” Veronique said gravely. “He was eliminated to ensure the safety of others.”

  I shivered. “So even though he wanted to be good, he couldn’t.”

  She shook her head. “However, he was a nightwalker from the beginning. Your tendencies come from an artificial source of magic. Perhaps they can be controlled.”

  “You’re just saying that to make me feel better, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am. Does it help?”

  My stomach churned. “Not so much.”

  “So you see that you cannot simply discount this potential eradication out of hand, even though the side effects are undesirable.”

  “I need to think about this.”

  All of my memories gone or risk becoming a nightwalker 24/7 whether or not I wanted to be. I had to get rid of this curse. The grimoire Gideon allegedly had now became a beacon of hope for me. I had to get my hands on it.

  “Now,” Veronique said. “Let’s talk of less depressing matters, shall we?”

  “What do you want to talk about?” I asked weakly.

  “The Red Devil,” she said evenly. “Have you seen him again?”

  “I… I actually have. Yeah.”

  “And have you mentioned my interest in exploring a relationship with him?”

  I stared at her for a long moment. “The subject hasn’t come up yet.”

  Her lips thinned a little. “I understand. You do have other issues to consider. However, if you could tell him that it is I, Veronique—”

  I held up a hand. “No offense, but setting up a devilish booty call for you is a bit low on the list at the moment for me, as I’m sure you can understand. But I do want to talk about the Red Devil.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “I am not interested in a booty call, I am interested in a relationship, a romance with the most interesting man I’ve ever met. I took you to be a romantic, Sarah.”

  “And I am. Depending on the day.” I forced all curse-related thoughts temporarily out of my already crowded brain. “What exactly is it about the Red Devil that appeals to you so much? I mean, you could have any man you want.”

  “Yes, that is very true. But ever since I met him nearly two hundred years ago, I have kept him in the back of my mind and all men since have paled considerably in comparison to that memory. Our meeting was so momentous, so intense and incredible, that I dream about him to this very day.”

  “Tall guy, about six feet,” I said. “Dark hair, broad shoulders, gray eyes.”

  “Yes. Handsome with or without the mask, I would imagine.”

  “So you got a good look at him. You actually saw his face.”

  “Yes.” She closed her eyes and sighed like a fangirl. “I even
kissed him to show my gratitude.”

  Tramp. “So he didn’t look familiar to you at all? Is there anyone you’ve ever met who you think might be the Red Devil after hours?”

  She smiled. “Much like a modern-day superhero with a closely guarded secret identity?”

  “Sure. Something like that.”

  Her forehead creased slightly in concentration. I imagined that she was thinking of meeting the Red Devil, being rescued by him, and then never seeing him again despite the

  “be my lover” vibe-fest she was sending out.

  She slowly shook her head. “I have met a great many people, human, hunter, and vampire, in my life, and there is nary a one that I believe could be masquerading as the Red Devil.”

  Seriously? She seriously didn’t know?

  “Just thought I’d ask,” I said.

  She leaned over the table. “Why? Do you know who the man is behind the mask?”

  “Nope,” I lied. “But it is something to think about.”

  “Indeed it is.”

  I pushed the small stack of hundred-dollar bills the rest of the way across the table to her.

  “Here. As I said, I’ll pay you back the rest when I get a new job. Maybe they’re looking to hire staff at Darkside.”

  “I’ve heard Darkside has recently been sold. Vampire real estate is a fluid thing. It is likely the new owners will close up shop to protect themselves and their investment.”

  “Even with… Gideon Chase… dead and buried?” I said carefully. “Is it still that dangerous?”

  “Especially now. The hunters’ need for violence has become even more indiscriminate than before.” She pushed her small cup of espresso away from her. “That’s why I want to make every day count. Time is of the essence for me.”

  “What for?”

  “To become a part of the Red Devil’s life, of course.” She frowned at me. “Honestly, Sarah, you seem very distracted to me today.”

  No shit, Sherlock.

  She pursed her red lips and glanced around at our surroundings. “Did you have a meeting with Barry scheduled after this?”

  “Barry?” I repeated. “Barry Jordan? The man who hates me with every small fiber in his tiny being? No. Why?”

  “Because he is staring at you rather intently right now.” She shrugged her elegant shoulders. “A coincidence, I’m sure.”

  I looked around the small café but saw no one I recognized. Then I turned to the window facing the sidewalk.

  I jumped. Barry Jordan stared straight through the pane of glass at me next to my face. He was the same height standing as I was sitting so when I looked we were face to face.

  He didn’t look amused. He jabbed his right pointer finger at me and then curled it as if he wanted me to come outside.

  I looked past him to see Amy but there was no one else with him.

  “I think he’s trying to tell you something,” Veronique observed.

  I held a hand to my ear and looked at Barry again. “What?”

  He already looked frustrated with me.

  I glanced at Veronique. “Please tell me he’s not the vampire the Ring assigned to eliminate me. That would be so embarrassing.”

  “Of course not. Such an important task would not be given to a mere servant.”

  “That’s kind of derogatory, don’t you think?”

  She looked confused. “There are those who are servants and those who are masters.

  Knowing where you fit into that equation helps one in a very long existence.”

  “So what am I?”

  “You are a servant,” she said simply. “Your lack of wealth and status gives you no other choice. But you are a charming and amusing girl whose company I greatly enjoy, so that is something for you to hold on to.”

  “Thierry was poor when he was a human. I think you called him a peasant once, didn’t you? But now he’s considered a master vampire.”

  “He has earned that designation over many centuries, but no, not from birth.”

  “Is that why you wouldn’t sign the annulment? Because you think of me as a servant?”

  She sighed. “The subject wearies me, my dear. Besides, it doesn’t matter anymore now that you and my husband are no longer together.”

  “Fine.” I tried to push away any extra ill feelings I had toward the woman facing me.

  “Thanks for the info on the… the Carastrand. Obviously it’s a very good thing to know.” I stood up from the table.

  She eyed me. “And what of the Red Devil?”

  “Honestly, Veronique? I don’t think you’re his type. I’ll mention you to him, but I figure if he wanted to hook up, he would have done it already. Two hundred years is a long time not to call somebody back after a first date. Maybe he’s just not that into you.”

  A microscopic sliver of doubt slid through her gaze. “Are you saying you believe him to be homosexual?”

  I blinked. “Is that the only reason a man wouldn’t want you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then that’s what he is—he’s gay as a handbag full of rainbows.” I glanced at the window to see that Barry’s face had gone a few shades darker red and the top of his head looked about ready to blow off. “I’ll see you later, Veronique.”

  “Of course.” She nodded but still looked disturbed by the possibility of her mystery hunk-

  o-love being unattainable.

  And to think, the man that she wanted, that she thought was the cat’s meow—where did that expression come from?—that she was willing to go to great ends to meet… she was already married to him and couldn’t recognize him to save her own life.

  The knowledge that I knew who he actually was bubbled inside me like a teapot ready to whistle loudly. Balanced out, of course, with some major-ass annoyance.

  Then again, it was par for the course with Thierry. He had serious trust issues. Did he think I’d go blabbing to everybody in town?

  Could I be with somebody who tried to keep nearly every part of his life a secret from me?

  Barry was waiting impatiently for me outside the café when I exited.

  “Have you seen my wife?” he asked tightly.

  I wiped a few flakes of falling snow off my cheeks. The skies above were thick and gray this morning. “I’m doing just fantastic, Barry, thank you for asking. How are you?”

  “I don’t have any time for your nonsense today. I’m looking for Amy.”

  “Have you tried her job? She’s typically there during Monday work hours, you know.”

  “I’m not an idiot. Of course I tried there already. They said she went out for an early lunch.”

  A woman walking a Great Dane passed us and looked at us curiously. I eyed her warily wondering if she was one of Gideon’s spies. The dog stopped to do his business and the woman crouched to pick it up in a plastic bag.

  Gross.

  I returned my attention to Barry. “Then I guess that’s where she is. Eating something.

  Somewhere.”

  His brow creased further than it already was. “She isn’t answering her cell phone.”

  “Maybe she needs some time away from you. Can’t imagine why.” I studied him for a moment. “Is that all you wanted?”

  He seemed to deflate a little in the anger category. “I wouldn’t have bothered you, but I saw you with Veronique and thought I’d ask.”

  “You’ve asked. I’ve answered. Now, if there’s nothing else, I need to deal with my daily traumas.” I brushed past him, but he grabbed hold of the sleeve of my coat. I turned back to look at him.

  “She’s happy, isn’t she?” he asked.

  “Define happy,” I said. “I seem to forget what that entails.”

  “With me.” He visibly swallowed. “I mean, she doesn’t have any issues that would cause her to find me… lacking in any way, does she?”

  Oh, brother. Not something I needed today. A miniature vampire with an inferiority complex—who hated my guts.

  “Amy is happier than she�
��s ever been,” I told him. “She’s like a werewolf after a flea bath.

  Don’t ask me why, because I honestly couldn’t tell you. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

  He nodded. “Good.”

  A few more potential spy-types walked by us. One even had the audacity to ask me for the time before continuing down the sidewalk. “I’m sure she’s off shopping somewhere. Just chill. You two have something special. I guess it was love at first bite. Old joke, but whatever.” I turned away from him again before something occurred to me. “Hey, you don’t happen to know the Red Devil’s real identity, do you?”

  He shook his head. “Whoever he is, I think he should have remained in hiding. The master says that his presence in the past did more harm than good.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I just bet he did.”

  Of course Thierry would say something like that to help take any attention off the obvious—to me, anyhow—similarities between him and the Red Devil.

  Barry raised his chin. “You should know that the master is seeing someone new.”

  “I know.” My eyes narrowed. Even though I knew it was only a cover, it still bugged me.

  “How do you like her?”

  His lips thinned. “She is a crude and sharp-tongued woman. I don’t know why he would choose her so quickly after the end of your… relationship… when his preference is typically for solitude and reflection.”

  “Thierry is a party animal, isn’t he?”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “I was being sarcastic.”

  “What a surprise.” He eyed me. “I will say I was surprised by what happened between you and the master. While I didn’t feel that you would be together very long, I didn’t think it would end so soon, given his questionable infatuation with you and your abnormal stubbornness.”