The scent of charred flesh hung thick in the air along with the muffled sounds of sobs from the hallway. The scene was becoming all too familiar.
"Her name was Rachel Goodkind." Sinjin dropped into a crouch beside him. "Her friend found her."
"She's out in the hall?"
He nodded.
"I think we need to talk to her friend."
Both men rose and exited the room. A slender young woman stood in the hall leaning against the wall, sobbing into her clenched fists. Alexandre eyed her critically. She was a young vampire of probably no more than twenty-five years. He approached her, touching her on the arm to get her attention.
"Miss."
She jerked her hands away from her eyes and lifted her watery gaze to his. She rubbed her palm over damp cheeks. "Martha," she stammered. "My name is Martha."
"And I am Alexandre." He gave her a gentle smile. "Martha, I know you're upset. You've received quite a shock." He took her arm, led her to a small chest and settled her on it. "I have some questions I need to ask you."
She sniffed. "Okay."
"How old was your friend, in vampire years?"
"About thirty."
"Very good." He crouched beside her. "Has she been acting different lately?"
She shrugged, her gaze dropping to her trembling hands in her lap. "Well, not really. I mean, she said that she'd met someone who was going to change her life."
A jolt of anticipation shot through him. "Did she say who it was?"
"No."
"Where did she meet this person?"
"Bourbon Street. She'd gone to feed...uh, to dinner and came back one day last week telling me about him. She said he was going to make her stronger than ever before."
"Did she explain what she meant by that?"
She shrugged, clearly uneasy. "Not really. I assumed that he was an elder vampire." A rush of color shot under her skin and she met his gaze. "Like you maybe. I've heard that if a lesser vampire feeds from an elder, they can increase their abilities."
He nodded. "It's true. Did she ever mention participating in this ritual?"
She shook her head. "I'd just assumed. I mean, how else would a lesser vampire gain strength?"
Indeed.
"Had she been acting any different physically?"
She frowned. "Well, she seemed anxious." She shrugged, her gaze dropping to her hands once more. "Rachel was always kind of keyed up, I guess. In the past few days she seemed more...well, more hyper."
"How so?"
"I've known her for ten years and she could never sit down. She was always on the go, had multiple projects going on at once. In the past few days, she was...manic. Rambling in her speech, pacing...even her sleep was off. She usually kept a normal sleep schedule, but it changed and she'd rise an hour or so before sunset. She didn't go out or anything, but it was unusual. I'm dead to the world until sunset."
Indeed, this was unusual. Young vampires couldn't resist the lure of sleep as the sun began to rise. It pulled at their limbs like a leaden weight, sucking them into the safety of darkness until, once again, the sun set and it was safe to come out and play.
Martha's watery sniffle brought him back to the present.
"Did she seem depressed?"
She shook her head. "No, she seemed excited about gaining more power, but she never told me how she was doing it. Anytime I brought it up she'd just wink and tell me that all would be revealed in time." She gave a weak chuckle. "Rachel loved to act mysterious." Her expression turned sad. "It looks like her time just ran out."
Alexandre gave her arm a comforting squeeze. "That's all for now." He rose and stepped away half-afraid she'd burst into tears once more. "Thank you for your help."
Sinjin gave him a sharp glance as he moved to help the young woman to her feet. "Yes, thank you, Martha. I know this has been a shock to you, but you've done all you can to help her for now."
Martha gave Sinjin a weak smile. "She was a good friend. You'll look into this? I have your promise?"
He nodded and looped an arm around her shoulders to lead her toward the door as Alexandre turned away. He reentered the room; his gaze fixed on the remains of the dead vampire. What was it with these deaths? Was it murder? If so, how was it being accomplished? The concept of spontaneous human combustion wasn't foreign, but all of the evidence in a case such as that led to human error rather than someone simply bursting into flames.
Suicide?
According to Martha, Rachel was a happy woman with much to look forward to. What else could it be but murder? He now had four dead vampires on his hands, each appearing to die in the same fashion. The only difference was the site of damage was smaller with each victim. The first one, still unnamed, had been completely incinerated while the second had lost the majority of his torso. Philippe's torso was severely burned on the left side while the damage to Rachel was confined to a six-inch square area where her heart should have been.
The puzzle still remained. What was causing these deaths?...
"Dude, I heard you were-"
Alexandre spun at the intrusion of a voice. Raphael stood in the doorway, an expression of horrified fascination on his face. "That's nasty. What happened to her?"
Mentally, Alexandre kicked himself for allowing yet another vampire to sneak up unawares. A mistake like that was going to get him killed.
He moved, blocking Raphael's line of sight. "What can I do for you?"
"She asked me to give this to you." He held out a slender envelope and Alexandre couldn't help but notice the vampire's hand trembling.
He reached for the offering, the warmth of the other man's hand brushing his skin as he took it. "Are you feeling well?"
The young vampire gave a jittery smile as he moved back out the doorway, his movements agitated. "Right as rain," he trilled. "I think I got some bad blood. You know how hard it is to find a healthy meal, thanks to new blood diseases and drugs. I'm thinking of leaving New Orleans for a healthier place." He gave an exuberant laugh. "How about Aspen? Maybe Seattle?" He turned and headed toward the stairs, gesturing wildly as he walked. "I know, Sedona. The blood there might be thin due to the altitude, but it would certainly be healthy."
Alexandre shook his head and opened the envelope, extracting a slim sheet of paper with Cass' distinctive scrawl.
I'll see you at one A.M. in Jackson Square tomorrow night.
I'll be waiting by the fountain. -C
He glanced at the charred body. Could these deaths be connected to Cass in any way? Possible but unlikely.
He looked at his watch. It was barely five A.M. He had plenty of time to get home and check on Sunni. He frowned. That needle mark on her arm had him a more than a little concerned.
* * *
Chapter 10
The night was electric.
Sunni skipped down the street toward Alexandre's home, energy thrumming in her veins. She didn't know if it was the feeding or making love to Alexandre last night, but whatever it was, she hoped it never stopped. This was truly a day for new revelations. This evening, she'd awoken a full hour before sunset. She gave a delighted giggle. She didn't expect to be able to do that for several hundred more years. Feeding from Alexandre during their lovemaking must have given her this gift and she was thrilled.
She knew that he was able to withstand limited amounts of sunshine due to his age. Oh, how she longed to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin once more. She even dreamed about it on a regular basis. When she'd awoken this evening, he'd already been gone, his side of the bed cool.
She shivered at the thought of his masterful touch. She didn't know when he'd come back to bed last night, but she had a vague impression of sleeping in his arms. A rush of anticipation shot through her.
With any luck, she would again.
She turned the corner and hurried toward his house, skidding to a halt when she saw the gates to the driveway open. He was home.
A silly grin curved her mouth as she broke into a run up the gravel dr
ive. Shrouded in trees, Alexandre's property had a surprising amount of land considering it was in the middle of the city. The house was typical of New Orleans: a two level, perfectly square box with wrought iron balconies and a myriad of doors and windows for access to the outside.
The landscaping was exquisite, but she paid it no mind as she barreled up the drive and headed for the front door. Stepping through, she flung her arms out and greeted the empty hall. "Honey, I'm home."
She heard a muttered curse and footsteps as he approached and she fixed a bright smile on her face as he entered the hall. Damn, but he was handsome. Black trousers covered his magnificent legs; his shoes were a shiny Cole Haan. A white silk dress shirt was unbuttoned halfway, revealing his strong chest lightly sprinkled with dark hair. For once, his hair was unbound, curling on his shoulders. His expression was dark, heated.
"Where have you been?" His low voice ignited a shiver along her nerves.
She leaned against the doorway opposite him. "I had to stop at the shop, make some changes to the books."
"We need to talk."
"I thought we were," she grinned.
"I'm not the man you think I am."
She blinked.
Darn, he was serious...
She nodded. "Okay." She pushed away from the wall and moved to a small Chippendale chair in the corner. "What would you like to talk about?" She sat and crossed her legs.
He frowned and looked away, dragging his hand through his hair as if he didn't know where to start.
I'm making him nervous...
"Sunni, you don't know much about me-"
"I know enough."
"No, you don't." His tone was firm. "You look at me as some kind of hero and I'm not. I saved your life all those years ago because I was in the right place at the right time." He began to pace.
"Yes, you were." She gave him an encouraging nod. "For that, I've always been grateful."
"Grateful doesn't equal love, Sunni."
She rolled her eyes. "I am well aware of that."
"I can't live up to your expectations."
She frowned. "Alexandre, I have no expectations of you-"
"Do you realize that hundreds of people died because of me?"
She blinked. What was he alluding to? Something was obviously bothering him and he needed to talk it out.
She leaned forward. "I'm listening."
He stopped pacing and sat on the steps, his expression unutterably weary. "When I was growing up, I belonged to a religious sect called the Albigenses. We disagreed with the Catholic Church and formed our own beliefs. The core was that, by refraining from physical pleasure and material goods, we would achieve absolution. There were two kinds of followers, Perfects and Believers. Perfects were required to forsake material possessions along with meat, milk, cheese, eggs and all sexual relations. Having been taught that the human body was created by the devil and only the soul was good, I'd grown up ignoring the temptations of flesh."
Sunni frowned. It sounded extreme to her, but she didn't comment.
"After the murder of Peter de Castelnau, the Vatican's envoy, Pope Innocent the Third ordered the extermination of the sect. We knew they were coming for us and everyday we faithfully stationed lookouts around the town. We needed advance warning to get everyone to safety should de Montfort's army come for us next.
"I was twenty-six years old and stationed to the north, and I was determined to fulfill my duty. But, also at that time, I was questioning everything I'd believed. I'd almost attained the level of a Perfect, but it wasn't sitting with me the way I felt it should. Something was missing- and then along came Ariana."
Sunni swallowed, unsure she wanted him to continue, but she didn't interrupt.
"She was beautiful and, even though I knew it was wrong, I wanted her. I kept telling myself that I could turn her from the path of ruin and teach her the joys of becoming a Perfect. Looking back, I know now that I wanted her more than I'd ever wanted anything in my life."
No, she didn't want to hear his confession. A sick feeling invaded the hollow of her stomach.
"I wanted to know what it felt like to make love to a woman even though it was forbidden." He ran his fingers through his hair once more, his expression lost. "I allowed her to lead me from my post and deep into the woods." He grew silent. "Ariana was a Believer, but she was prone to temptation. Believers weren't held to the same exacting standards that Perfects were. It was a given that, at some point in time, they too must forsake the consumption of animals and the temptations of the flesh or they could never achieve absolution. Consequently, I saw it as my duty to steer her away from temptation. But, instead of redeeming her, she nearly destroyed me.
"Rather than teach her Jesus and enlightenment, she introduced me to the forbidden pleasures of rich wine and the sins of the flesh. Once she touched me, that was it. We-" he swallowed hard "-had sex three times that afternoon. And with each act, my confusion grew. How could something that felt so good be sinful?"
"So you screwed your brains out," she said.
He gave a short, choking laugh, his expression rueful. "Yeah, we screwed our brains out. As I wandered the woods alone, I saw my future with the sect. They were, in all ways that counted, my family. But now that I'd tasted sin, I wanted more so I decided to leave. I couldn't remain with them when my heart no longer agreed with their teachings. However, I never got the chance to speak. When I returned to my post, the village had been destroyed, the buildings burning before my eyes."
She gulped. "And the people?"
"Dead, all dead. Perfects and Believers alike, slaughtered like cattle. The women and children had been dumped into wells to foul the water with their rotting flesh. The men had been lined up and killed, one by one, their bodies pinned to the ground with massive pikes, their eyes and tongues cut out and burned. What animals hadn't been taken were slaughtered and the town razed.
"I spent days digging a mass grave in which to bury the men. I filled the wells rather than attempt to retrieve the women and children. I denied myself food and drink and prayed for hours. And, for the first time in my life, I heard nothing. No answer. No response. It was as if God were punishing me for my tryst with Ariana by killing my family and leaving me to suffer alone."
And he would live with this for the rest of his life. Sorrow pierced Sunni's body and she closed her eyes under the weight of it.
"I can't save you, Sunni. And I can't save the Shadow Dwellers."
She opened her eyes, her gaze fixing on the man before her. "You don't have to save me, Alexandre. I don't need to be saved." She rose. "As for the preternaturals, you'll do the best you can and that's all anyone can ask."
He raised his head. "And if they die?"
"Then they die knowing that you gave your all for them...for us."
He shook his head. "I can't live with that again-"
"You can, and you will." She approached, dropping to the floor between his spread knees. "But you won't fail this time."
His expression turned incredulous. "I just told you-"
She caught his hand and, turning it palm up, she placed a kiss in the center. She felt the tremor that ran through his arm. "You made a mistake, a serious mistake. Humans make mistakes, Alexandre. They aren't perfect." He made a disbelieving noise and she pressed on. He needed to hear her and take it to heart. "You aren't perfect. If you'd known what would happen, would you have left your post?"
"No."
"You made a decision. Be it right or wrong, you made that decision and you've had to live with the consequences of it for hundreds of years. How much longer will you beat yourself up over this?"
He was silent.
"Let it go and salvage what you can. You now have the chance to make amends by saving the Shadow Dwellers. The fate of our world hangs in the hands of a few, and you're one of them."
He looked pained.
"I have faith in you." She leaned forward, moving her face directly into his line of vision. "We have faith in you and t
he Council."
She rose, standing a few scant inches from him, yet still sheltered between his knees. "If you can embrace that man, that imperfect man, then come to me. If you can't..."
She moved around him and up the stairs, her heart thudding with each step away from him. More than anything, she wanted to go back, crawl in his lap and embrace him until his fear subsided. But she knew he wouldn't accept such an overture. Whether he admitted it or not, she knew him well.
The bed was still in disarray when she entered. Pausing to straighten the sheets and cover, the scent of their lovemaking rose to tantalize her senses. Her heart gave a little jerk, the house silent and waiting around her. Turning away from the bed, she moved to open the French doors leading to the balcony. The humid New Orleans night swept into the room.
"I am an imperfect man."
She stilled as his words poured over her skin. She closed her eyes in silent thanks before turning to face him.
"And I'm an imperfect woman."
"Before we go any further, I need you to know that there'll be times when I'll let you down."
Silent, she nodded.
"Times I'll hurt you even though I don't mean to."
She nodded once more, her heart in her throat as he visibly relaxed. He looked exhausted and she ached to take him into her arms, but she didn't move.
"I don't know that I can do this." He waved his hand and she wasn't sure if he meant them or the situation with the Council. Either one, she knew he could, he was the man she thought he was.
"You can do it. You can win this time. You just have to believe in yourself like we do." She gave him a gentle smile. "I think you'll surprise yourself." She raised a hand, lightly trailing a finger along the beveled edge of a small table that stood next to her. "Are you...hungry?" She shifted, allowing the strap of her shirt to slide off one shoulder. She raised her gaze, meeting his tortured one.
"Yes," he whispered.
She moved toward him, keeping her pace deliberate, sensual. "What are you hungry for?" She trailed one finger along the lacy edge of her blouse, barely touching her skin.
Wilder, J. C. - Shadow Dweller 5 Page 10