by Judith Post
"Angel's promise. If you call, I'll seek you. No hiding. I don't like this new crop of bloodsuckers."
"There's no need…"
Caleb didn't let him finish. "But there is. I can't break a promise. It's the only way for us to move on."
Enoch nodded, and he and Caleb turned to face their visitors. "Release the humans and leave," Caleb commanded.
"Make us."
Together, he and Enoch waded into the throng, destroying vampires as they went. When only a few remained, Caleb said, "A good place to stop. The rest can spread the news that I'm back. Vampires will abide by my rules or wish they had."
Enoch turned to the humans. "Go home."
"And if one vampire touches them," Caleb warned the survivors, "it will be the last thing he does."
When the fortress was empty again, Enoch shook his head. "How many creatures did you make?"
"A few. But I bit them, they bit others, the others bit more. You see?"
"They've been running wild while we were too busy to notice. They've been free to do whatever they want."
Caleb looked around in surprise, his ferocity gone. "How long have we been at this?" He sounded bemused. "I have a feeling things have gotten out of hand."
"I don't know how you measure time, but mortals dress differently now."
"It's our second round at this. You'd think we'd learn. We can do this forever, and neither of us will win."
Enoch knew that only too well. "So what do we do? How do we end this? I can't let vampires prey on innocent people. Humans have no way to protect themselves."
"A truce?" Caleb asked.
"How? I was sent to bring you Home, and you won't go."
"Damn it, Enoch, you're nothing but a big priss, but I still like you. Can't you like me, flaws and all?"
"Not if your flaws hurt people."
"Always so conscientious. So what about this? I won't go Home, but I won't make new vampires. Will that work?"
"We need rules for the ones who already exist."
"We?"
"I was sent here, remember? I can't go Home without you."
Caleb took a deep breath. "Will you leave me alone if I only sip?"
"Sip?"
"You know, a little blood here, a little there. I can't grow weak, or my converts will terrorize everyone."
"They're doing that now."
"I made the first ones. They have to obey me, at least to a point, but there are always rogues. Not everyone's like you, old friend. Some of us don't like to bow and scrape and follow the rules."
"That's not how it is and you know it."
"To each, his own." Caleb shrugged. "Do we have a deal?"
Enoch didn't like his options, but he couldn't think of anything better. He could try to destroy every vampire, but with the way his Light worked on Earth, he wasn't sure that was possible. He'd have to track them down and corner them, and they seemed like cunning creatures. Mortals were in misery. They needed help. "No more draining mortals. Any of you."
"We have to feed to survive. We'll sip and we'll only drain the scum, the humans who prey on their fellow kind. We'll be doing the world a favor."
It could be worse. Enoch knew that. Right now, the world was floundering in anarchy, and he needed to put it right. He let his arms drop to his sides. He took a step back. "An angel's promise?"
"Too risky this time." If an angel broke a promise, he was thrown into the Pit. Not with Lucifer and the others. Alone. "I'll do my best, though, and with our bond, you'll be able to keep track of me."
"You won't drain innocent humans, and if your followers do, they'll be punished?"
"A deal."
"Then it's done." It wasn't a promise. Caleb had dodged that, but at least, they'd called a truce. They had an agreement of sorts.
And Caleb being Caleb, the first thing he did was call his converts to him and explain the new rules. He, of course, didn't enforce them. He left that to a small group of handpicked vampires he'd created. He turned them into generals, a force to be reckoned with, his enforcers. "They'll keep our truce. You and I can explore this earth and enjoy its bounties. You'll see. You'll learn to enjoy it here, brother."
"You and I? With your friends?" Enoch studied the rowdy group of converts who'd come at Caleb's bidding. One of them in particular caught his eye—a tall, lanky male with long, black hair and glittering gray eyes.
"We'll be a family," Caleb told him. "I noticed you admiring Vlad. If you like him, I'll share. We'll nest together."
Vlad's lips curved in a seductive grin. "Welcome, angel."
Enoch refused to react. Caleb loved to shock. Instead, he shook his head. "You have your pleasures. I have mine. We'll stay in touch." Angels used telepathy to communicate with each other. Caleb had shared that gift with his creatures.
"Because you'll miss me, or to keep track of me?" Caleb teased.
"Both."
Caleb laughed. "To our newfound paradise then. And to our bond, my brother."
Their bond… That's what had gotten Enoch into this mess to begin with. But he was here now. And he had a job to do. The sooner he got it done, the sooner he could return Home. He vowed to roam the earth as a vampire hunter while Caleb went on to other adventures. And together with Caleb's generals, whom he'd met and admired, there'd be some kind of balance between humans and rogues.…
Enoch rubbed the bridge of his nose, not as upset with the memories as usual. It had been centuries since he and Caleb had clashed. Yes, vampires still existed, and rogues still broke the rules. But at least, there were rules, and when a vampire overstepped them, he was hunted down and destroyed. With luck, Enoch would find the one he was after in Three Rivers. And then? He'd like to stay for a while. To help Danny. And Voronika.
Chapter 8
Two nights later, after midnight, Danny drove to the bar where Katy worked. He parked his Buick in the bar's lot and walked to the brick building next door. A gnarled tree grew close to its foundation. He grabbed a low branch and swung himself onto it, just as he had last night and the night before. He grew up on a farm. He'd spent a lot of time climbing trees and sitting in branches. This was a cold night for it, but he could see Katy's apartment, and nobody would see him.
Katy was working a double shift, she told him, to make up for the time she’d had off. Business was booming, so he leaned his back against the tree trunk and settled in. As long as Katy was surrounded by customers, she was safe. At one, when her shift ended and she hung up her apron, Danny watched her start up the stairs by herself. He watched her turn on the kitchen light, close and lock the door behind her, and get her coffee machine filled for the morning. She yawned and stretched, then he lost track of her as she headed toward the front of the apartment and her bedroom.
It was almost four when a man left the bar and went to the stairs at the side of the building. Even at this distance, Danny could sense the energy pulsing through him. Enoch had said that the killer wouldn't wait long between victims, but Katy had been out of town. He'd been forced to.
Climbing to Katy’s apartment, he tried the door. When it didn’t budge, he pulled a small tool kit from underneath his jacket. Danny lowered himself to the ground as the man worked at the door’s hinges. Faster than Danny expected, he slipped inside the darkened kitchen. Damn, the man was quick. Danny crossed the cement to the stairs and was making his way up them when a gun fired. What the hell? Had the killer just shot Katy? Did he need a kill that bad? Cursing, Danny raced upward. He smacked into Katy’s attacker at the top of the stairs. He lunged to grab him when a second shot lodged in his bicep. Blood trickled out of a hole in his winter coat. The impact of the bullet threw him backward, but he reached for the killer as he ran down the steps.
The sudden movement made Danny woozy. He tripped down two stairs before he could right himself. His fingers caught the killer's pant leg. He almost had him when the killer aimed a solid kick at his wound. Danny gasped in pain, and the man jumped to the pavement at the bottom of the stairs. Katy
aimed and fired again, but missed. A minute later, he was gone.
Katy hurried to Danny, crying as she checked his arm. "Oh my God, I could have killed you. You're bleeding."
“Stop! Leave it!” Danny pressed his hand to the bullet hole and took deep breaths. Katy didn't fool around. With a little more practice, she'd be lethal.
“Are you all right? Should I call 911?”
“I’m fine. You’re fine. That’s all that matters. I’ll be back. I might still be able to track him.” Damn it! He'd had his fingers on the man, and the killer still got away.
Katy looked at the blood seeping between his fingers. Then her whole body started to shake. Shock? Was she going into shock? “Don’t leave me.” Her knees gave and Danny clumsily grabbed her to keep her from falling.
“He’ll get away!”
“It’s too late. He’s already gone.” She shivered and slid down to sit on a step. "I can handle almost anything, but I can't stand the sight of blood."
Wouldn't you know it? A woman with a gun who could shoot you dead, but then fainted when she saw you bleed. Danny struggled with impatience. He'd come so close.
She stared at the hole in his sleeve, fingered it as if she could magically meld it together. People ran out from the bar below, and the owner called, “Are you all right?”
She turned her head to yell. “A guy tried to kill me. I shot the detective who rescued me.”
The owner looked at Danny, saw that he was going to live, and then burst out laughing. “Told you it was a dumb idea for you to have a gun.” Customers nodded agreement, so the gun must be common knowledge. Common knowledge for regulars, Danny reminded himself. He’d have his sometimes partner, Derek, question people about anyone new who’d been in the bar that night.
“Does he need a doctor?” someone asked, pointing at Danny.
“I called 911,” another said.
“Woman, you're an idiot. You missed the guy standing over your bed and shot him?” The owner scratched his head. He was bald with only a thin rim of hair still remaining. “We’ll have to remember that if anyone rescues our Katy, he might not survive it.”
The teasing was helping her, Danny could tell. The shivers were leaving, and she pushed herself to her feet. Her knees held. She glared at her boss, opened her mouth to sass him, then shook her head. “I need a drink.”
“You must be feeling better.” Danny gingerly took the gun out of her grip and steadied her as they went down the stairs.
“Your drinks are on me,” the owner told both of them. “Come on. We’ll wait together for the EMS to get here.”
Danny called Derek on his way inside. They were sitting at the bar, sipping beers, when Enoch walked in. "Thought I'd stop by to check on you." He glanced at Danny's arm. "Is our killer armed and dangerous?" By the time Danny told him what happened and the others chimed in, the ambulance arrived. Close on its heels, the squad cars came. "It looks like everything's covered. I'll only be in the way." And Enoch excused himself.
Danny gave him a look. He knew better. He wanted to go with him, to see what he was up to, but he had to wait for the techs to arrive. He had so many questions. Since the killer had attacked and missed, would he try again? How did it work? When he picked a woman, did he obsess about her until he'd finished the job? Or if he failed, did he move on? Could Enoch tell by touching Katy?
After the techs came and went, Danny went to find Katy in the bar. "We didn't have much luck. The guy wore gloves. He's careful. You can go up now, though, and try to get more sleep."
Katy exhaled a long stream of smoke before she crushed out her cigarette. "Will you sleep on the couch, just for tonight? I don't feel safe in there alone."
Danny was getting tired himself. The medics had given him pain medicine. His arm was in a sling. He should go home, but he didn't want to take chances. What if the killer waited until everyone left and then came back? He nodded. "Come on."
They climbed the stairs together. Someone had already put Katy's door back on its hinges. Danny locked it behind them and Katy motioned him to a hall closet.
"Here's a spare pillow and blanket." She met his eyes. "I'd feel even safer if you slept in my bed."
He wouldn’t. She was temptation incarnate. He should run the other way, but guarding her was his job. "Sorry." He sounded like a prude, and he knew it. "I'm working a case. I don't mix business and pleasure."
"Ever?" They were crushed close together in the narrow hall. He could smell her perfume. He could almost feel the softness of her body.
He clutched his bed things closer and headed to the couch. "If the guy comes back, he'll have to get past me."
Katy grimaced and shook her head. "Oh good, I'm safe." It was a pissy comment, but Katy wasn't the type to hide behind niceties. She stamped to her bedroom and left the door open while she slid out of her robe. Her nighty was flannel and full, but Danny noticed the ample swell of her breasts and the strain of her hips beneath the soft fabric. She turned to give him an arched look. "Happy dreams."
He plumped his pillow and pulled his blanket up to his chin. "Sleep tight." He wasn't sure if she'd be able to after the night's events, but in a few minutes, he heard her steady breathing. The adrenalin had peaked and dropped, draining her energy. He closed his eyes, and soon he joined her in slumber.
Chapter 9
Enoch walked up and down every street in the neighborhood. Sometimes, once in a while, he could make an energy connection with intense emotions. He stopped at street corners and waited, trying to absorb what was out there on the winds. Right now, their guy must be roiling with feelings. Hatred for Katy. Anger that he'd failed. Mounting frustration because he needed another kill. Enoch put out mental probes. If he could just find a sizzle of fury or rage, he could follow it to its source, or—if that failed—maybe he could sniff out the stench of panic and loathing. He had to find the killer. He hadn't seen another face after Katy's. He didn't know who the killer would attack next, so how could he warn her? But the trail was as cold as the bleak November weather.
Enoch trudged back to his penthouse. Stores were turning the signs in their doors to open. People were out and about. He'd never find the killer now. The bastard would blend with his fellow humans, disguising himself as a good co-worker, a neighbor, maybe even a husband and father. He crossed the lobby of his apartment building and people glanced in his direction. When the elevator doors opened, a man who'd been waiting there took one look at Enoch's face and stepped away. Enoch rode to the top floor alone.
His mood didn’t improve when Danny knocked on the door, bearing doughnuts and coffee.
“Morning, pal. Thought I'd bring breakfast.”
"How's the arm?"
Danny nodded to it. "Not bad. Thank God she shot the left one." When Enoch motioned him inside, Danny looked around and gave a low whistle. "Holy mackerel! This place could be on a magazine cover."
Enoch led him through the sitting rooms to the kitchen. He scowled at the Styrofoam cup Danny handed him. Grimacing, he pushed it away. “That stuff's foul. I have a fresh pot of my special blend. Want some?”
Danny waited until Enoch filled their mugs before asking, "So, what did you really do when you left the bar this morning?"
"Walked the neighborhood, hoping to find a clue, a lead of some kind, maybe somebody getting ready for work who'd seen something."
"Any luck?"
"Do I look happy?"
"No, you're gloomier than usual."
Enoch came around the high island bar that separated the kitchen from the living room and plopped on the stool beside Danny's. His gaze swept the kitchen with its ceramic tile flooring, dark teak cabinets, and stainless steel professional appliances. Enoch’s other passion besides writing was cooking, and his kitchen was a testimony to it. Danny followed his glance. “This place looks pretty serious for a guy who always eats out.”
“I don't like to cook for one."
“How about two?”
Enoch slanted him a look. "Is that
a hint?"
"Could be. I only get home cooked meals when I go to see my parents." Danny nodded toward the refrigerator. "Got any brats in there?"
“Brats? Do you think I need a kitchen like this to grill brats?"
"Guess you could use charcoal on your balcony."
Danny was baiting him and enjoying it, Enoch could tell. But Enoch didn't feel like writing today, and he didn't want to hunker down with a good book. Cooking would keep his mind occupied. He craved a distraction. "How about tonight? Katy’s working late, isn’t she?”
Danny finished his coffee and reached for his take-out cup. “Do you think our guy will come back and try again?”
“When she’s armed and definitely dangerous? Not this soon, she probably rattled him, but you should help her install the deadbolt lock you talked about and a motion sensor light.”
“Good idea.” Danny downed the coffee he'd bought at the gas station.
How could he drink that crap? “You know Styrofoam's a preservative, don't you?”
“Yeah, it’ll make me live longer.” Danny finished his doughnut, then grew serious. "What do you think? Do you think our killer will pass on Katy and move to the next girl, or will he try harder the second time around?"
“I don’t know." And boy, he wished he had the answer to that one. "I know you can't stand guard over Katy forever, but it wouldn't hurt to check in on her every once in a while, in case the killer builds up his nerve.” Enoch meant to watch over her when she finished her shifts. He was hoping the killer would take another stab at it. He walked every night anyway, searching for the rogue who killed Alessandro. If Enoch stayed outside, he might catch his scent or feel him stirring.
Danny reached for another doughnut. “You're thinking he picks them for a reason.”
“I think they trigger something, and he might not rest until he kills the ones he’s chosen, but I'm guessing. I'm just glad we were a step ahead of him this time.”
“I’ll warn Katy, tell her that we don't know what he'll do next.”