Fallen Angels

by Judith Post

  “Knock, knock.”

  He looked up from his computer and raised a dark brow. “You have a nice, healthy glow about you. Blood will do that.”

  She stepped inside and looked around. “Is this a trap?”

  “I have holy water and wooden stakes in the kitchen in case you have a death wish.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” She sounded like she meant it. She came closer. “Nice place.”

  He followed her gaze. His apartment was decorated with pieces he’d picked up in previous lives. Time had made them antiques and rare finds. "I wasn't sure if you'd come or not."

  "Neither was I." She looked confused. "I’m not sure why I did."

  She was maybe five-eight and slender to the point of fragility. He knew better. He found her strikingly beautiful with an oval face, high cheekbones, and large almond-shaped eyes. The eyes were blue at the moment. He frowned.

  “Contacts,” she said, “for when I pay personal visits.”

  “Nice touch. Yellow is so out of fashion.” Her breasts were lush for how thin she was. He found everything about her erotic. He tried to remember the last time he'd been turned on by a woman. He thought that part of himself was dead, that he'd shut it down after Grace died.

  The blue eyes narrowed, studying him. “I’m Voronika, and you don’t appear to be afraid of me. Why is that?”

  He was afraid, all right. Not that she'd bite him or drain him—at least, not physically. But he felt an instant connection to her. Why? Because she seemed so needy—lonely like him? Is that why she saw him in his vision? Did she feel it too?

  He forced his voice to be nonchalant. He didn't want her to know the effect she had on him. “I’ve dealt with your kind before. You can’t hurt me.”

  “Really? Explain.”

  “Sorry, we’re not that chummy yet, but I didn’t mean to intrude on your future. I’m trying to help a friend find a killer. You’re not the one we’re after.”

  "The vision—how did you do that?"

  "It's a gift I have."

  His answer surprised her, he could tell. “But I killed those men last night.” She stepped into his circle of lamplight, and Enoch got a better view of her. Golden skin and moonlight hair that looked like strands of silk. His fingers itched to touch one of those long locks.

  He shook his head. “Why does your kind always wear black?" Not that it didn't suit her. "Isn’t that sort of cliché?”

  “It fits our personalities, helps us blend with the night.” She gave him an appraising look. “Does your kind always wear fine wool and cashmere?”

  “It’s according to where we ended up.” He and Caleb were tossed to Earth, but Caleb’s friends landed in the Pit, a place too hot for clothes.

  She tried again. “So you’re scattered?”

  “Believe me, I could give you lots of clues and they wouldn’t help.”

  She lifted her chin. “You sidestepped our problem. If you're looking for a killer, I fed last night.”

  “A little too much. Why did you have to drain them? It's not like it wasn't obvious."

  "I was hungry. So does that change things?"

  He shrugged. "I’d guess it was self-defense. Unless you follow Caleb's rules and criminals are fair game."

  "How do you know vampire rules?"

  "I've met my share of you. But I'd bet that you don't prey on innocent people. You looked too rundown when we met."

  "I don't prey on any mortals. It disgusts me."

  "So it was self-defense." Just as he'd thought. The vampires he’d met who reveled in their powers were well-fed and healthy.

  “So you believe in justice more than laws.”

  “I believe in laws, but I think there are bigger truths too.”

  “An interesting man.” She inched nearer until she stood over him. For being undead, she radiated passion—those full lips, the challenge in her eyes. “But what if I feel threatened by you and decide that I can’t take a chance? What if I don’t feel comfortable knowing that you’re watching me?”

  He knew she was listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat. If his pulse had quickened, it wasn't because he was afraid. “Then you’d have to attack me.” What a luscious thought, to have her rush him. Could he provoke it? No. He pushed the thought away. Love or lust was even worse than friendship. It hurt more.

  “And?”

  “Be careful of your urges." The warning was for himself as much as her.

  "Why?" She tried a different tactic, coming close enough to slide a cool finger along his jaw, then down the side of his neck. She was playing with him. Obviously, this had worked for her before. It felt forced, though. As if she were only going through the motions.

  Could she smell his desire? She was beautiful, yes. But it was more than that. Enoch had met many beautiful women who didn't appeal to him at all. There was something about Voronika…. Enoch stared into her fake blue eyes and enjoyed the icy fire of her fingertips on his throat. He enjoyed it too much. He stood abruptly and captured her chin in a firm grip. Her lips were full and inviting, but he couldn't go there. Her eyes widened and her fingers clutched his sweater. He'd surprised her. When she raised her other hand, he seized it, clamping his hand around her wrist. A warning. He was not to be trifled with. "You can bite me. You can even feed on me. But you’ll never be the same. Be ready for that.”

  “What are you?”

  “I’m older than you are. That’s all you have to know. And if I thought you were a danger to mankind, I’d eliminate you. But I can tell you’re struggling, just as I am.” He released her and flexed his fingers. He couldn't touch her again. Too tempting. And he couldn't let her touch him. Even worse.

  Her eyes misted for one brief moment, but she blinked the tears away. She looked around at his apartment. "You don't know what struggling is."

  "Money isn't everything. It doesn’t buy happiness. Believe me, I know."

  "You don't know anything." She inched toward the door. “Why are you here?”

  "To protect mankind."

  "Like the girl who was murdered last night?"

  Enoch whipped around to look at her. "You knew her?"

  "I've met her. Big difference. But you didn't keep her alive." Her voice was raw. It was almost an accusation.

  He sat down, his back to her. The more distance, the better. “I can't protect mortals from mortals. I protect them from your kind."

  "Lucky you." Did he hear sympathy?

  "It's my own fault. I messed up. I made a wrong choice. I doubt you had that option. But I'd guess you were asking why I'm here, in this particular city. The answer's simple. To track down and destroy a vampire who killed my friend.”

  "A vampire? Here?" There was a fleck of panic in her voice.

  "When I find him, he'll be dust."

  She stared at him. “Because you'll kill him? Is there some other species that I don’t know about? Werewolves? Warlocks?”

  “Probably, but I’m not one of them.”

  "What are you?" she repeated.

  "A friend." Wishful thinking, but he'd like to help her, protect her. He'd wish for more, but that would be stupid. She was a vampire, and he was a vampire hunter. There was no hope for them.

  “And we’ll coexist, share this city?” she asked, skeptical.

  He glanced at the article he'd been working on, couldn't remember the topic. “Works for me.”

  “As long as I behave.”

  He looked back at her. “I’m not worried about that.”

  “But I’m worried about you.”

  “You don’t need to be.”

  “So you say.” Voronika stepped onto the balcony. She attempted to act unaffected with a quick wave and failed. “Until we meet again.”

  "Why did you come?"

  She frowned at him in silence. "I don't know. You scare me."

  "If you need anything, I wish you'd let me help you."

  "I don't need pity. I can take care of myself." She shook her head, then disappeared.

&nb
sp; Enoch went to the doors and slid them shut. The apartment was chilly. Or maybe it was just because she’d come. The undead were always cold. He looked out the windows at the dark, gloomy sky. She was out there somewhere—alone. And he was here—with his books and his things. Alone too.

  Chapter 6

  Would he answer? Danny listened to Enoch's cell phone ring. It was 6:00 a.m. Surely, his friend was asleep. He had to sleep sometime, didn't he? But instead of going to the message machine, Enoch picked up.

  “What the hell?” Danny couldn't believe it.

  There was a moment of silence, then Enoch said, "Danny?"

  "When do you sleep?"

  "When you don't call.”

  Very funny. The man was nothing but a font of humor. "Look, I have to clear some paperwork this morning, but Katy Torrence still hasn't called me back. I've tried her at the bar, but they keep telling me she isn't there. I'm not buying it. I'm going there myself. Want to ride along?” The sooner they warned Katy about the clown killer, the better. Enoch had said that his vision came fast, so the killer wouldn't wait long.

  “Maybe she works the lunch shift,” Enoch said. “Want to find out?”

  “Are you offering me free food again?”

  Enoch's voice was reasonable, almost patronizing. Danny gritted his teeth while he listened. "Since we're going to a restaurant to interview a person in the middle of the day, why not eat lunch there?"

  "Because you always pay. That makes me feel like a freeloader."

  "You can pay if it makes you feel better, but what's the point? I have more money than I'll ever need, and you're always on a budget. I'd rather pay for your lunch than eat alone. What's so wrong with that?"

  "Put like that, it almost sounds as if I'm doing you a favor."

  Enoch pushed his advantage. "I have lots of money. I hardly have any friends. Let me have my way on this."

  "Okay, I'm done worrying about it. I have bigger battles to fight."

  "Good, then when are you going to pick me up?"

  "Eleven thirty?"

  "See you then." And Enoch hung up.

  Danny stared at his cell phone. Had he just been outmaneuvered by a civilian? Or had he made a concession for a friend? He couldn't decide and he didn't care. He had too much work to do. He attacked his stack of case files.

  When he pulled to the curb in front of Enoch's apartment building, Enoch was waiting for him. Enoch slid into the Buick, and they drove to the bar on Wells Street. The place drew a decent lunch crowd, and the waitresses were scrambling to fill orders. It took a few minutes before someone got to them.

  “What can I get you?” Their waitress was about five-six and on the plump side. Her voice told them they'd better not dawdle.

  “I want your bar burger,” Danny said. “And a Pepsi.”

  She turned her gaze to Enoch. "You?" He didn't impress her, Danny could tell. She had long, wavy, dark hair; gray eyes rimmed with dark liner; and full lips painted red—a full-fledged broad.

  “The same.”

  She scribbled their orders and took off. Danny admired her backside as she left.

  “She looks like the type of girl who knows her way around,” Enoch said.

  “Do you think she’s our Katy?”

  “Same hair that I saw on the bed.”

  "Then why didn't the damn woman call me?"

  "Because you're a cop. I'd guess she doesn't think you're a good guy."

  Either that, or she wasn't a good girl. By the looks of her, Danny doubted that Katy liked to abide by the rules. He frowned at Enoch. "Your visions aren’t final, right? We can change them.”

  “I see the next person the killer attacks. If we're lucky, we can change the outcome.”

  Danny relaxed slightly, fiddling with his paper napkin. They could protect Katy and throw the killer off his stride. Better yet, they could catch him. “We’re going to sound like idiots. You know that, don’t you? We can’t just say that you’re a one trick psychic and I'm a desperate cop, and you saw her murdered in her bed.”

  “You’re a cop," Enoch repeated. "You know how to spin the conversation to get what you want. Sell her on it.”

  Yeah, official cop talk. He could do that. But this time, it sounded like he was pulling flowers out of thin air. Sure, he believed Enoch's visions, but it was because he knew him, he'd watched him. Someone new? They might not get so lucky. Katy didn't look as if she'd believe in psychics or miracles.

  They stayed in the booth, ordering dessert and stalling over coffee, until the lunch crowd left. Then Enoch motioned for the check. When Katy came with the bill, Danny asked, “Are you Katy Torrence?”

  She stopped and gave him a saucy smile. The girl had balls, he had to give her that. “Who wants to know?”

  Danny pulled out his badge and showed it to her. "You were supposed to call me before you came home."

  “Whoa, buddy, I don't care what Mack told you. He offered me the money. The only guys I sleep with are for fun, not profit.”

  That answer was a little too quick. "I don't know a Mack, and that's not why I'm here."

  "Do you have a warrant?"

  "No."

  "Then you can't search my apartment."

  "I don't work vice. I don't care if you smoke pot on your off hours."

  She put a hand on her hip. "Then what are you here for?"

  Danny wanted her to take him seriously. "I'm working a murder case, and when we investigated the last scene, we found your name and address on the victim. That’s what our guy does to show who he’s picked next.”

  Enoch looked at him, impressed. Danny was a little impressed himself.

  Katy cocked her head and studied him, glanced at Enoch and winked. “Is he for real?”

  “That’s why we’re here,” Enoch said. “We came to warn you.”

  “No worries," she told them. "I live upstairs over the bar. It has a security system.”

  “Our guy went through a third story screen to get the last girl. You’d better check on that system." Danny glanced around the bar. He didn't see any staircase leading to her apartment. "Does it work on your doors and windows?”

  She puckered her lips, thinking about it. “I’ll ask. I read about a murdered girl in the paper.”

  “She’s the second one.” He was going for hard sell, but Danny didn't want a third victim.

  “Okay, already, so what do you want me to do?” She looked him directly in the eye. “Are you just trying to scare the crap out of me, or are you going to do something to protect me?"

  "We want to stand guard over your place every night. You'll be all right during the day. He never strikes then. And you're safe while you're working. But once it's dark and you're alone, he'll come for you."

  For the first time, she looked a little intimidated. "Stand guard over me? Where?" Then her nervousness left. She looked Danny up and down, grinning. "I only have one bed. We’ll have to share. Your feet might hang over the end of the mattress, though.”

  Danny sputtered. What the hell was she talking about? “I want you to install a deadbolt on your door, keep all your windows locked, and be careful. We'll stand watch outside.”

  “Oh, hell, we both know that if someone wants to break in, he can." Her grin grew wider. "Since you know I’m the one he’s looking for, you'll have to stick close to protect me.”

  Danny looked at Enoch and blinked. "That's what I just said. Enoch and I will watch over you night after night."

  “Both of you? You want to double team me? Bring it on." Her eyes grew bolder. "Tall, dark, and handsome can take days, and you can take nights. Nights have more perks."

  Danny was growing frustrated. What was wrong with this woman? They were telling her that her life was in danger and she was making wisecracks. “I’m a detective. I’m on call. This isn't a game.”

  Katy studied Enoch, her lips turned down. “Then what's he? Is he a detective too?"

  "He's my assistant. We're working this case together."

  She made
a face. "Handsome men make me nervous. They usually aren’t worth much.”

  Enoch smiled. "I'm just to spell Danny when he can't be here.”

  “Spell me?” Danny gaped. He wasn't sure it was safe to be alone with Katy Torrence. She was the type of woman he'd fallen for over and over again when he was young. Always with disastrous results. He'd sworn off broads after Joyce. His mother had warned him that if he came home with another sad story of a broad gone wrong, she'd hit him in the head with her rolling pin.

  Enoch's voice was bland. “You're the chief law enforcer. You have more experience with these things than I do.”

  Danny frowned, studying him. Enoch turned his head and looked at Katy—a voluptuous woman with a cocky attitude—and raised his brows at his friend. It was as if a light bulb went off above Danny’s head. Oh lord, please no. He couldn't be thinking that. “Between the two of us, we'll make sure you’re safe," he told Katy. "When I can’t make it, Enoch will stand guard.”

  Her expression softened. “You’d really do that for me?”

  “It’s part of the job.”

  Her grin lit the room. “I just love a man with a little heft to him.”

  Oh great! Danny looked around the bar, returning to business. "I don't see any stairs that lead to your apartment."

  "Not inside, honey. What do you think I do? Crawl up the back steps at the end of my shift?"

  "An outside staircase isn't safe.” Danny motioned to Enoch. "Let's take a look. Can you come with us?" he asked Katy.

  They walked to the small strip of cement between the bar and the brick building next door. A large tree grew between the buildings and there was an unattached garage a little ways back—an abundance of hiding places. "Even if the bar has a security system, I doubt it works on your door. Do you have a number pad you punch to get in?”

  Katy shook her head.

  “Then she's unprotected,” Enoch said.

  “Not anymore.” Danny looked at his friend. Even if he had to fight Katy off, he meant to keep her safe.

  Chapter 7

  On the drive home, Enoch shook his head. "I don't get it. Katy doesn't fit the killer's usual m.o. She's not a bit like Luci or Liza."