by Lisa Kessler
If tonight went according to plan, Calisto would be the one melting. She could hardly wait.
1775
The Old One was gone.
Gregorio struggled to grow into his new role within the tribe. He settled disputes, reading each party’s thoughts to discover the truth, and healed the injured, closing their wounds with his own blood. The local tribes admired his abilities and judgment. They treated him with honor and awed reverence, but deep inside, his soul still burned with rage and hungered for revenge.
Tonight, he would hunger no more. The Kumeyaay people were not neophytes, as the priests so often labeled them. They were a proud people, rich with tradition, but the Church sought to change that, to change them, by whatever means necessary.
The Spanish, his own people, would pay for taking Tala from him and enslaving the Kumeyaay tribes. The priests would not go unpunished.
The moon shone brightly above them, casting light on the silent mission as the tribes banded together to fight for their freedom. Over 600 warriors silently surrounded the structure. The Spanish would call this the day of the Alcala Massacre, but for Gregorio, the Night Walker, it marked the night of judgment for a man he once called friend.
He had prepared the warriors for this fight, drawing pictures of the muskets and explaining how they were used. Warriors gathered from many tribes, each sharing a common fear of the white men who sought to steal their identity and way of life.
Tala’s death at the hand of a Spaniard provided further proof the white men were a threat to all of the tribes. Even their women and children were not safe.
With the warriors in place, a single battle cry broke the evening’s stillness. In seconds, the wooden planks of the mission’s roof blazed. At the same time, another band of warriors smashed the clay flumes that brought fresh water into the mission, making it impossible to extinguish the fire.
Gregorio remained hidden in the darkness, watching the fire feed on the buildings he helped erect only a year earlier. Father Jayme insisted they move the mission from the coast to the inland valley, closer to the native workers. Gregorio helped them move one plank at a time and rebuild one adobe wall at a time.
He looked up at the bell tower now engulfed in flames. So much had changed in such a short time. A few musket blasts erupted as the Spanish guards made a feeble attempt to defend the mission, but it was already too late. They soon realized the futility of their efforts and sought to escape with the priests and servants.
Kumeyaay women and men scrambled out of the burning mission, taking whatever food and trinkets they could carry. But Gregorio didn’t move.
It wasn’t long until he saw the man he waited for.
“Amar a Dios, hijos!” Father Luis Jayme called as he ran toward the natives.
Gregorio rushed forward before the priest uttered another word and yanked him close. They stared at one another, eye to eye. The depth of his hatred for this man stunned him. Until Tala’s murder, Gregorio had never hated anyone, but this man had introduced a bitter emptiness into his soul that slowly poisoned him.
They were once close friends. Brothers. But again, so much had changed. Too much.
Father Jayme’s face brightened with a smile. “Brother Salvador! Thank our Lord you are safe. We feared you were dead.”
The priest opened his arms to embrace him, but Gregorio stepped back, meeting his gaze with a cold stare. He tasted bile in the back of his throat. Every muscle in his body tensed. “You betrayed me.”
Father Jayme shook his head, his eyes pleading. “No, Brother Salvador. I saved you. Satan himself made you love her and caused you to stray from your faith. She tempted you until you broke your vows. I protected you when you could no longer protect yourself—”
Gregorio’s fist connected with Father Jayme’s face before he realized he intended to hit him. When the robed man fell, Gregorio grabbed his arms and yanked him up.
“I gave you my confession, and you used it against me. Did you know the soldier you paid to kill her also raped her?” He shook him like a rag doll. “Did you?”
The priest sobbed as blood trickled from his misshapen nose. “I do not know what you are talking about.”
Gregorio threw him to the ground. The priest cried out in pain.
“Once I called you my brother, and now you lie to my face? I saw him running away from her dead body, Luis! He took my ring that hung around her neck.” He grabbed the priest’s hand and twisted his finger. “This ring that is now around your finger! Tell me the truth.”
Father Jayme stammered his response. “You should not have given it to her. I corrected a mistake that you never should have made.”
Gregorio leaned in close and spoke with clenched teeth. “By killing an innocent woman?”
“A heathen! Satan in the form of a dark-skinned woman stole you from your true calling. Stealing you from God. I saved you.”
He stared into the priest’s eyes, fighting the urge to rip the man’s head from his body and sickened at how the scent of the priest’s blood tempted him.
“If Satan exists, Luis, then I am looking at him right now.”
He removed his signet ring from Father Jayme’s finger and slid it back onto his own. “You broke your vows by using my confession to harm another, and God Himself will judge you for that sin.”
Unable to bear the temptation of being so near Father Jayme’s bloody face, he turned away from the priest. With a nod from him, the native warriors moved in. As Gregorio walked away, short screams punctuated the thuds of sticks and knives as the natives beat and stabbed Father Luis Jayme to death.
It would not bring Tala back, but it felt justified. A life for a life. But the guilt he felt for trusting Father Jayme with his confession would linger forever.
He and Tala met secretly for months before he finally made that fateful confession. He made a fatal error to confess his secret love and his desire to give up the priesthood. Why had he done it?
But he already knew.
From the first moment he kissed her, he had known he loved her. After they lay together, guilt weighed on him until he could no longer bear it. He wanted to give up his missionary robes forever. When he learned Tala carried his child in her womb, he took it as a sign from God that he would become a husband and father. He actually believed Father Jayme would absolve him of his sin and bless their union.
How wrong he had been.
Gregorio moved on through the thick smoke, his revenge not yet complete. He needed to find one more man. Within minutes, three guards stumbled away from the inferno that devoured the mission. He recognized Tala’s killer instantly as the man he’d seen riding away from her body, clutching Gregorio’s signet ring. Fury lit through him. Using his heightened speed, Gregorio knocked the man to the ground and roared in anger.
The guard gasped, struggling to escape. The terror in his eyes reflected the fire in Gregorio’s. The Old One warned him not to allow others to see his sharpened teeth, which now resembled fangs. They should only be used to feed on animals and heal mortal wounds, not to strike fear or inflict harm.
But as he looked into the guard’s mind he saw Tala, her long hair tangled with brambles, her legs bleeding as this man chased after her on horseback. He watched the dog tear at her dress and rape her, holding his dagger to her throat.
In that moment, his rage was primal and all-consuming.
The man’s blood sang to him, his pulse raced, and without hesitation, Gregorio yanked him close and buried his fangs into the other man’s neck. Until now, he’d only fed on animals. He was unprepared for the power and pleasure of human blood.
Vaguely, he realized the guard fought to break free, screaming for help, but Gregorio’s grasp remained firm and unbreakable. He drank, overwhelmed by the images that sifted through his mind, his victim’s memories playing out before him.
He saw Spain, faces of men and women he did not recognize, and then he saw Tala running, her cheeks covered in tears, and he bit harder, pulling at the g
uard’s veins until the man went limp and his heart ceased beating.
Gregorio dropped the body in sudden disgust. What had he done?
But he knew, and worse yet, he enjoyed it. He was truly a monster, a blood-drinking demon. Scanning the smoke-filled clearing, relieved to see no one witnessed his atrocity against humanity, Gregorio ran.
Chapter Six
Calisto woke as the sun dipped behind the horizon. With a sigh, he rubbed his hands over his face, still shaken by seeing Kate in the priest’s mind the night before.
The Fraternidad knew where she lived, and he did not. How could he protect her from them if he couldn’t find her?
But he would find her. He had to find her.
Stepping out of a hot shower, Calisto quickly towel-dried his hair and stared at his face in the mirror. He would find Kate tonight after his business meeting. With Betty’s help searching on the computer, he would find her. If necessary, he would hire a private detective to locate her during the daylight hours.
Before the Fraternidad sent a replacement for Father Cardina.
Perhaps after they received his message at the mission’s doors, they would finally leave him alone.
He dressed in a pair of black slacks with a dark green turtleneck and the tweed sports coat Betty gave him for Christmas. Seeing him wear it would make her smile, and he owed her at least that much.
Her obvious infatuation with him made reading her thoughts unnecessary. He tried not to exploit her feelings. He cared for her as best he could, and never gave her false hope of a relationship between them. She was the closest thing he had to a friend in this world, but he learned long ago having mortal friends made it far too painful to leave when the time came.
Calisto didn’t allow himself to care for or love anyone, not ever.
He did strive to treat the mortals around him with respect, and if he made them happy in the process, so much the better. As long as he didn’t become too attached, or entangled in their lives. He remained ever watchful not to cross that line.
Upstairs in the main house, he settled behind his desk and found the address for the restaurant to meet Betty. The scent of her perfume still lingered on her stationery. He smiled at the personal touch as he folded the paper and tucked it into his coat pocket.
He stepped out of the house and glanced at the stars. The sight of the moon reminded him of Kate. He wondered when they would meet again. For the first time in centuries he remembered what it felt like to carry hope in his heart.
It was a dangerous thought.
Shaking his head, Calisto pushed the feeling from his mind. Tonight he would focus on business. First, he needed to feed or his skin would be too cold and far too pale. He had an hour before his meeting with Betty, not much time.
Walking down the beach, he vanished into the darkness.
Kate signed the final paper documenting her mother’s donation of the piano and sheet music to the foundation and couldn’t help but notice Betty glanced at her watch several times.
“Sorry I’m so slow. I like to know what I’m signing.”
Betty shook her head with a smile. “Not a problem. I’m expecting the founder any minute, and I’m starting to worry he might have lost the address or something. He’s not usually late.”
“Calisto’s coming here?” When she saw Betty’s perfectly plucked eyebrow arch, Kate struggled to rein in her excitement. “My mom mentioned him to me before…. He’s Spanish, right?”
“Yes.” Betty’s smile brightened as she watched the door open. “And it looks like he just got here.”
Calisto followed the hostess back to the table Betty reserved, surprised to find she wasn’t alone. Another woman sat with her back to him.
“Calisto!” Betty rose from the table to greet him, the picture of sophisticated beauty, dressed in a simple black cocktail dress that accentuated her long, shapely legs. She usually kept her blonde hair pulled into a tight French twist, but tonight it fell loosely down her back.
He smiled, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Good evening, Bettina. I apologize for my tardiness.” He turned to acknowledge the other woman at the table. “I didn’t realize you invited anyone else to our—”
His words caught in his throat the instant he saw the other woman. Her large eyes were dark as midnight, except for the tiny crescent, and the sight of her smile as she stood to offer her hand felt like a summer breeze warming his cold heart.
He took the chance encounter as a sign. Destiny had crossed their paths again, offering their souls another chance at love. He prayed fate would be kinder to them in this lifetime.
Betty gestured to Kate with a curt, businesslike smile. “Calisto, this is Kate Bradley. Martha Bradley’s daughter.”
He fought to keep from pulling her into his arms. Instead, he managed a nod. “I am sorry for your loss. Martha was a wonderful woman. She will be missed by all.”
Martha Bradley. In his excitement over seeing Kate at the Mission, he hadn’t recognized her last name. Martha was one of Foundation Arts’ longtime donors, yet in all those years he’d never met her beautiful daughter.
Tala had been close to him all this time, yet just out of his reach. The thought caused his chest to tighten.
He watched her mouth, waiting to hear her voice again. He ached to touch her. It was the sweetest torture he’d ever known to see her alive once more, and not be able to hold her in his arms, to kiss her soft lips. Fire licked at his heart, awakening passion he had long ago forgotten.
“Thank you.” Kate offered her hand in greeting. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I didn’t realize who you were when we met at the mission the other night.”
He was unprepared for the electricity that shot through him when he took her hand. Touching her again after lifetimes apart made him feel both weak with gratitude and selfish. He never wanted to let her go.
Her skin felt warm against his lips as he pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles. “The pleasure is mine, Kate Bradley.”
Clearing her throat, Betty stepped closer to Calisto and took his arm, her smile growing when he finally forced himself to relinquish Kate’s hand.
“This coat looks wonderful on you. Isn’t it the one I gave you for Christmas?” Betty stood nearer to him than she ever had before.
Calisto raised a brow. “I believe it is.”
For the first time, Calisto wished he’d not used her infatuation to keep her pliant and unsuspecting. He’d waited so long to see Tala again, and the last thing he wanted to stand in his way were petty jealousies.
He forced himself to shake off his irritation as Kate glanced at Betty with a momentary look of concern. Kate flashed a smile and stepped back, and Calisto casually removed Betty’s hand from his arm.
“Kate signed the documents for Martha’s piano so we can pick it up for her,” Betty said, turning to face him more fully, using the movement to move close to him again.
Calisto nodded, putting some space between him and Betty. Kate looked stunning in her burgundy lace dress, her full lips tinted with wine-colored lipstick. The way her black hair spilled over her shoulders made him yearn to run his fingers through it. How had he survived so long without her?
“I think I’ve signed everything, so I guess I’d better get going.” Kate smiled at Betty, and cast a brief glance in Calisto’s direction. “I don’t want to interrupt your business.”
“Nice to finally meet you in person, Kate,” Betty said with a stiff smile.
Kate returned the pleasantry as she shook Betty’s hand. “I enjoyed seeing you again, Calisto.”
She was leaving. He couldn’t let her go, and yet he couldn’t make her stay. His heart pounded. Taking her hand, he placed another tender kiss to her knuckles. “Again, the pleasure was all mine.”
Kate lifted her hand from his and smiled. She picked up her purse and offered a final nod. “Good night.”
With one last look over her shoulder, she walked away.
His mind raced
with panic as he watched her go. He needed to see her, and soon. Nothing would keep him from her.
Visions from Father Tomas filled his mind and anger flooded through him. The Fraternidad knew she lived again. Tomas had seen her. His train of thought ground to halt. The monk told him they would not allow him to make another blood drinker.
They must believe he would make Kate a Night Walker.
Even now, after centuries had passed, the church still tried to keep them apart. But they would not succeed this time. Kate gave his empty life new meaning with a simple smile. He would not allow anyone to steal it away. Not this time.
Kate drove away from the bay with a dreamy smile. Why was she so stuck on this guy? Hearing him talk made her heart flip.
She shook her head as she drove back to Point Loma. Infatuation was a strong emotion when you were alone. Kate tried not to think about the way he stared at her, the way his dark eyes held her in his gaze, like he could undress her with just a look.
Her skin flushed hot thinking about it. She recalled her mother mentioning he was handsome, but geez, handsome was an understatement.
Ok, so he was incredible. It was time to move on. The last thing she needed was another man in her life. Tom’s betrayal was too fresh, and trust wasn’t something she was ready to try again anytime soon. Infatuation might be harmless and fun, but it needed to end there. How could she work on a new life and a better future when she let a hot guy with a silky voice break her focus?
She didn’t have the emotional fortitude for anything more than getting her life back together.
Turning up the radio, she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. Tonight turned out better than she expected. She sang along with the music and pulled off when she saw a familiar taco shop. Good Mexican food was the one thing she missed most when she moved to Reno. Nothing else measured up to the spicy flavor of a carne asada burrito from a San Diego taco shop.