Paranormal Heartbreakers Boxed Set

by Jeanne Rose

Zeke glanced nervously at the combatants. “He don’t seem to be payin’ much attention.”

  But Val did notice, smacking Rakosi’s head against the floor several times until the man lay still, rising swiftly to fly at the gunman. He grasped the man’s wrist, the bones cracking. “Take your hands from her.”

  “Yah!”

  Adriana was thrown aside as the gunman screamed and the weapon dropped. In one smooth motion, Val picked him up and raised him over his head, taking him to the door to fling him across the deck and overboard. An incredible show of strength.

  Adriana heard the splash, then a combination of yelling and running footsteps as more men abandoned the boat. But she didn’t have time to count their number, since Zeke had picked up the fallen automatic. Val stood between him and the door.

  “Get out of my way, you monster!” Zeke shouted.

  Val’s eyes seemed to glow and he showed his teeth.

  Which looked pretty pointed to Adriana. If she weren’t so upset, she would have cowered. If Val weren’t fighting for Jennifer, for her.

  Where was Jennifer anyway? she wondered, even in the melee. Shouting her own desperation, she jumped on Zeke, trying to knock the gun away. He shoved her aside easily, pulling the trigger just as Val lunged for him. A blossom of red bloomed on Val’s chest, spreading from the hole in his coat.

  “Val!” Adriana screamed, fearing he’d been killed. “No!”

  But her lover didn’t so much as pause, toppling Zeke and lifting him by the throat. “Vermin! I should kill you!”

  Instead, with tremendous force, he hurled the man against one of the boat’s large port-holes. Glass shattered and Zeke lolled back unconscious, the top part of his body outside the boat, the rest inside.

  Fear still held Adriana prisoner. She expected to see Val drop at any moment. But he remained standing and pushed her behind him . . . because Rakosi had risen from the floor. The big man fingered the medallion hanging about his neck on a chain – a pendant about the size of silver dollar – and stuck it inside his shirt.

  “So, cousin, it is to be just you and I.” Rakosi’s eyes glittered as he stooped to pick up a large sliver of glass. In the other hand, he carried a sharpened stake. “Now you shall die, perish . . . as you should have long, long ago.”

  “It will take more than you and your flimsy weapons,” said Val. “You cannot kill me while I sleep, like you did Yelena.”

  “Your succubus of a sister deserved what she got. I wish I had killed all of you.”

  “You dare to call names, lowly thief, sniveling coward?” Val lifted his chin proudly. “You feared facing any of us. You wished only to sneak inside our home and steal the medallion.”

  Rakosi flushed. “It was little enough legacy. It gives me powers I should have had in the first place. I am a Kadar!”

  “Half a Kadar,” said Val. “The Kadars are my family, not yours. You have affronted us.” He indicated Adriana. “And now you have affronted my woman’s family, as well. Where is her sister?”

  “In a locker. Alive . . . at least for the moment.”

  A locker? Adriana glanced about.

  While Val urged, “Let both of them go. They have nothing to do with you and me.”

  “Oh?” Rakosi hefted the stake like a spear. “I shall enjoy watching your harlot’s face as you die. Then I will kill her and her sister, too. Maybe I will drain their blood like I did the other fools.”

  Even as Rakosi spoke, he was lunging swiftly, striking out with his weapons. Val feinted, came back at him but caught a jab in one hand from the shard of glass. A line of red sliced through his glove and skin, dripping blood. He cursed in Hungarian.

  And Adriana cried out, already wondering how he’d survived the bullet wound. Val looked paler than normal and his breathing sounded labored. Instinctively protective, she picked up a piece of broken chair to whack Rakosi on the head.

  The blow didn’t faze him. He growled, turning toward her.

  Giving Val the chance to attack the man from the other direction. He brought Rakosi down with a huge thud and they rolled across the floor.

  Adriana jumped out of the way, searching for another weapon. She picked up a piece of glass.

  Rakosi had dropped his shard but managed to jab at Val with the stake. “I will put this through your cold, black heart!”

  “You are not so strong, even with the medallion!”

  The medallion? It seemed to be very important. And Rakosi, whoever he was, seemed an equal match for Val. Throwing his antagonist off, Rakosi scrambled to his feet.

  “The sun will be at its zenith in moments,” the big man told Val, the medallion swinging against his chest as he crouched. In the fight, it had worked itself out of his shirt. “You are losing strength by the minute. I can tell.”

  Val did look weaker. Fearing for him and for Jennifer, Adriana made an instant, daring decision.

  The medallion.

  Dropping the glass, she took a running leap and landed smack on Rakosi’s broad back. He grabbed for her but she was too fast, biting down hard on his ear.

  “Ya-r-rgh!”

  Even as he screeched, she grabbed the medallion’s chain, threw herself backward, dragging the pendant over his head.

  “Ra-r-rgh!”

  Rakosi’s eyes were desperate as a wild animal’s as he came after her, sharpened stake in hand. Val lunged at the same time, knocking him to the floor.

  Rakosi screamed again but didn’t rise and, to her horror, Adriana saw why. The man’s fall had rammed the stake he’d been carrying into his own chest. Red seeped in a widening stain across the back of his shirt.

  “He is dying,” said Val, taking the medallion from Adriana’s trembling fingers, then embracing her. “My lovely, brave one. Let us now find your sister.”

  There were several lockers in the cabin, which Val ripped open. Finding only equipment or supplies, they headed down a stairway that led below. A mirror hanging on the stairwell’s wall glimmered, even when Val passed.

  Because he couldn’t be seen in it?

  But Adriana couldn’t worry about anything but finding her sister. She wasn’t certain of the place they’d entered, the light being so dim. But she could hear a pounding sound.

  “She is there,” said Val.

  He quickly located the locker where Jennifer had been deposited. Her hands tied, her mouth gagged, she’d been kicking the door with her sturdy running shoes. Val tore off the gag and lifted her in his arms.

  “A-adriana!” Jennifer gasped. “What happened? All the noise!”

  “There was a terrible fight,” said Adriana, touching her sister’s face lovingly.

  Val carried Jennifer up the stairs. Emerging into light again, he put her down and removed her bonds. She leaned against Adriana weakly, then gazed about, her eyes widening at the mess in the upstairs cabin, at Zeke hanging unconscious out the porthole, at Rakosi’s body lying on the floor.

  “He fell on his own weapon,” Adriana told her sister.

  “We have to call the police.”

  “There is no time,” said Val, clutching his coat about him, putting the hat back on. “I must return to my house. I am deathly ill.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “ILL ISN’T THE WORD for a person who’s been shot and sliced with glass,” Adriana said as they headed back for Uptown in another taxi. Worried out of her mind, she cradled Val against her. “Shot?” Jennifer sat by the other window. “We have to take him to a hospital.”

  “No hospital,” stated Val, his voice sounding stronger than his physical appearance. “The bullet merely went through my shoulder. It is my allergy to the sun that has weakened me. I need rest.”

  “But a hospital will be better,” objected Jennifer. “And we can make a police report there.”

  “No hospital!” rasped Val, stirring, obviously bothered. “And if you wish to speak to the police, you must contact them yourself.”

  Frowning, Jennifer looked as if she was about to protest again until Ad
riana told her, “He saved your life. Let him do what he wants.”

  Val added, “I am happy your sister lives, Adriana. I only wish I could have stopped Rakosi from murdering Yelena.”

  “Yelena?”

  “His sister,” explained Adriana.

  Jennifer’s expression softened. “That horrible man. When did that happen?”

  Val sighed. “A long time ago.”

  “Well, he stepped up his activities in Chicago,” said Jennifer. “He murdered three people in the last couple of weeks.” She gazed at Adriana. “When I heard about Stone Drake, I was afraid to come home last night, decided to stay at Todd’s parents’ house in the suburbs. I tried to call you at the club but I guess you didn’t get my message.”

  Adriana shook her head. “You must have spoken to one of the bartenders. They never write down anything.” Especially on a busy Saturday night. “But the morning wasn’t safe either. Rakosi must have been waiting around.”

  “His men were waiting,” corrected Jennifer. “They broke through the back door before I knew what was going on and hauled me off to the boat. Rakosi was furious when he realized they’d brought me instead of you.”

  “I’m sorry.” Adriana still felt guilty.

  “We would have both been involved one way or the other,” Jennifer insisted. She shivered. “Before he threw me into the locker, Rakosi bragged about the murders and threatened me with the equipment he’d used – plastic tubing with sharp metal fittings for stabbing into the jugular. And a big bottle for the blood. Ugh!”

  “Poor Jens,” murmured Adriana.

  “Poor him,” said Jennifer, gazing at Val.

  With alarm, Adriana noted how sharp his cheekbones suddenly appeared, how shadowy the hollows beneath his eyes. He lay so still against her. In his weakened state, she supposed they could force him to go to a hospital. But instinctively, she felt that wouldn’t be right to cross his wishes.

  When the taxi let them out in Uptown, however, she insisted on staying with him, while Jennifer returned home.

  “Don’t even bother protesting,” she said, as he leaned against her to climb the steps of the Victorian mansion. “I’m going to put you to bed and take care of you.”

  “You do not know what you do. You do not know what I am.”

  What he was. Adriana didn’t want to think about what she’d witnessed. Everything had happened so fast, she hoped she’d been under some sort of delusion. But as far as superhuman strength was concerned, she knew that Rakosi had been pretty much equal to Val. And he certainly hadn’t been a vampire if he’d needed equipment to get blood out of people.

  When she finally put Val to bed and helped him out of his coat and jacket, he broke into a sweat, starting to rave, “My sword . . . iron . . . bloodstones.” He tried to sit up. “The enemy is at the gates!”

  Enemies? Swords? She brought a candle to the bed, soothing him, “No, no. Don’t worry, we’re safe. Everything is okay.”

  He fell back, tossing his head so restlessly, she tried to plump his pillow. It seemed hard and a few grains of earth sifted out onto the sheet. A pillow stuffed with dirt?

  Adriana told herself that the dog must have been on the bed with dirty paws.

  “My family,” Val gasped. “For them, I melted the sword . . . and forged the medallion.”

  The medallion.

  Adriana wondered if he’d feel better with his hard-won treasure in hand. She fetched the heavy pendant from his coat pocket, noting it did seem to be made of iron and was set with brownish-red gems that could very well be bloodstones.

  “Ah-h!” He clutched the medallion, immediately calming as he pressed it against his heart.

  She knelt beside the bed and unbuttoned his shirt to examine the bullet wound. It looked smaller than she expected and wasn’t bleeding profusely. But at the least, “You need antibiotics.”

  “The wound is clean. The bullet went through,” he said, sounding more lucid. “It was the sun.”

  ”Sunlight can make you this sick?”

  “So sick I may perish.”

  Her heart nearly stopped. She hadn’t known he was that ill. “You might die? My God, we’ve got to take you to a hospital.”

  “No!”

  Even if he weren’t so adamant, she knew she couldn’t carry him and he had no phone with which to call an ambulance. She started to cry.

  “Please do not weep.”

  “I’ll go out to the street and try to find another taxi.”

  “There is no time. Listen to me, Adriana.” He pulled her closer. “A key lies in an envelope in that top dresser drawer. It and the password written on the outside will allow you access to my bank box. Remove the money. A large amount. Keep it for yourself.”

  “I don’t want to think about money.”

  “Money is the least I can offer you.” He took hold of her hand. “But send the medallion to my family. Do you have a piece of paper? I will give you their address.”

  She rose to find her purse and the little notebook and pen she always carried. Her hand trembling, she felt a chill when she wrote down what he dictated. “Kisvarka, Hungary.”

  Home of The Kadar. How strange.

  Her attention returned to Val when he started shivering.

  “My sword!” he cried.

  “What about your sword?”

  “Only iron from my own hand . . . shall harness the cravings of my family. Watch out for Rakosi!”

  He was raving again. She tried to comfort him. “Rakosi’s gone.”

  He paid no attention, babbling on, “He stole it from Yelena . . . stabbed her through the heart. Foul dhampir!”

  “Damper?”

  “Dhampir.” His pronunciation was different, making the word rhyme with vampire. “Rakosi . . . the son of my uncle and a village woman. Powerful . . . but angry and jealous. And not a Kadar, not even with the medallion–”

  Then he jerked, eyes rolling.

  “Val!”

  He shuddered, didn’t seem aware that she clutched his chilly hand in hers. “I owe my family. May God hear me. I led them into wrongdoing . . . to save our people.”

  Then he lapsed into heavy-breathing silence, scaring her even more. She thought about running out to the street again and started to rise, only to have him jerk her down.

  “You!”

  Scared, she stared into dull brown eyes that held only a hint of fiery gold. Compassion replaced her fear. “What do you want, Val? Just tell me.”

  “I have found what I have always wanted. You.” He seemed lucid again. “You are my soulmate, Adriana.”

  Her throat constricted. “I love you, too.”

  “If only we had met . . . sooner.”

  She couldn’t stand it. “You’re not going to die!” she cried. “I won’t let you!”

  “You cannot argue with God or the devil.”

  “I can damned well try!”

  And she kissed the hand she held, rubbed it against her face. Tasting something salty, coppery, she licked her lips, then kissed his hand again, finally realizing it was the one with the open wound.

  “What do you do?” Val demanded, visibly upset. “You have taken my blood, Adriana. Now the choice is taken from you.”

  Meaning she was a vampire, too? Because everything they’d been talking about fit the stupid legend Irina had told her about. Legends meant nothing, though, when compared to life and death . . . or love. She still wasn’t certain what she’d seen or heard and she didn’t care.

  Valentin Kadar lay dying and she mourned him with her heart and soul.

  He was losing consciousness, his eyes closing, his breathing slowing. His skin seemed waxy. She felt for a pulse, so faint it barely existed. “Val?”

  He didn’t respond. Couldn’t. She was certain he now lay in a coma.

  Weeping even harder, she eased herself into the bed beside him. “I love you no matter who or what you are, Val.”

  For if by some slim chance, he really was the Kadar, he’d done what he h
ad to save his countrymen. He valued loyalty and loved his family, coming to America to retrieve the medallion that seemed so important to them. Rakosi had been the real monster, the murderer who’d struck down Val’s sister and Eddie and Lilly and Stone . . . plus who knew how many more.

  While Val had fought for life, giving his own to save her sister. He couldn’t be evil, not in her book.

  Thinking of all they’d shared, of the deep passion she still felt for him, she slid an arm across his chest, placing her hand on the medallion that lay over his heart.

  With little surprise, she realized he now had no pulse at all. His skin felt cold, his limbs rigid.

  Valentin Kadar was dead.

  And Adriana closed her eyes, not caring if she died, as well.

  SOMEONE APPROACHES.

  Adriana awoke and rose to her elbows, gazing through the darkness of the room. Listening carefully, she heard the scrape of footsteps on the sidewalk outside. From the weight of the footfall, the heaviness of the visitor’s breathing, she knew it was a man.

  Val lay beside her and she reached for him . . . realizing once again why he was so still.

  Her throat clenched.

  The least she could do was stop anyone from harming his body.

  Slipping out of bed, she glided quickly, silently to the bedroom door, entered the hallway and descended the stairs. Her movements light, flowing, she found herself at the entrance as the visitor mounted the porch. She opened the door before he even knocked.

  Surprise on his face, along with something else – fear? – he stepped back. “Good evening, Ms. Thorn.”

  “Detective Panchella. I shoulda known you’d be visiting.”

  “Uh, I have a question or two.”

  “I’m sure. But did you check out the boat on the river over near Clybourn? Did you talk to my sister?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He made a dismissive gesture. “Kadar’s in the clear. The motorist who called in the last murder gave a description that fit Miklos Rakosi. And then there was Jennifer’s statement and the equipment we found on The Buckthorn.” He added, “Hell of a battle musta took place there.”

  “Quite fierce. But Val felt he had to save my sister.”