Blood Emerald

by Amber Anthony

  29 October 1759. This servant of the Lord, charged by God Almighty with hunting the savage vampire, has followed the trail of increased baptisms. I have found myself in the small village of Saenza, where I have met in secret with the Parish Priest, Father Lorenzo. He avows the healing arts of this couple to be unnatural. He warrants they fail to associate with accepted society, they neither garden, nor pay for food or livestock. Staples given to them by townsfolk find their way back to villagers untouched.

  31 October 1759. I sat vigil in the home of Anthony and Isabella Piero. Her labor began today after Mass. Her eldest son being unable to summon the Midwife Sylvestro to Isabella’s bedside, her husband requested that I try. I traveled to the Sylvestro home seeking abidance for a difficult birth. I encountered only their manservant, who insisted neither were available until after dusk. I tarried along in prayer for good Madam Piero, climbing up the mountain pass where I came upon a cave. Blessing myself, I entered therein and found a blocking stone, as for a grave, barring my way. Believing I had found a vampire’s lair, I returned to my lodging to retrieve the tools of vampire destruction. Distrustful of the village, who had been enchanted by them, I silently hurried to return, armed against the undead demons.

  Rick blinked back tears. Their time as healers was a triumph for them, and they reveled in saving mortal lives. He fondly recalled the mortals who did not find their nature to be either foul or sinister. He and Tsura celebrated centuries of explosive love, harmony, and companionship. He would never have guessed their parting would be so violent after two hundred and twenty-five blissful years together.

  Though nearly three hundred years had passed, Rick recalled the happenings of that day as if they were yesterday. He’d arisen before dusk to harvest a restorative herb Tsura kept ready in her midwife’s case. It was his nature to do these small things for her, and his heart was light, thinking of her thanks when she realized he found an unusual amount of the precious herb.

  Mateo, their mortal familiar, sought him out in the depths of the forest. Rick did not expect Mateo’s disturbed demeanor. Word that a stranger in the village was prying into their habits was as alarming as it was unexpected. Unconcerned for his own welfare, Mateo forced Rick to accept their emergency haversack, and urged him to roust Tsura and flee.

  Rick was brought to his knees when he stepped behind the partially unrolled funerary stone and found Tsura’s decapitated body. There was no time for grief; his tears had to wait, for he was in mortal danger. All he could do was flee. He knew one alert vampire slayer could marshal a torch-bearing mob. He found the first ship sailing for the New World and boarded it, never to return.

  Now, staring at the frank words of a long-dead vampire slayer, the grief of three centuries was unleashed. Rick balled his fists into his eyes and felt the rolling emotions of extreme loss pour from within.

  The unearthly keening wail brought Lawrence to the doorway at vamp speed. “Rick, whatever it is, man, what can I do?”

  Chapter 8

  Rick stepped out of his loafers before the elevator doors slid open. His return home was later than he intended, and he wouldn’t have time to give Anna her well-deserved goodbye. Yes, Player did lift his muzzle off the pillow to see the source of the mechanical whoosh. Rick needed to glide in and then out again and get to the airport. He silently padded through his penthouse. His reward was the moments he spared to watch his Cupcake sleep on the deeply padded sofa before the fireplace. Rick winked at the behemoth and raised a finger to his lips, “Shhh,” and the dog returned to his happy place beside his new friend.

  Rick threw together his black tactical gear and personal weaponry. This time, he would take the limo to the airport and leave the Tesla for Anna. In long, silent strides, he moved to the coffee table and left the key ring where Anna would see it when she awoke. He regretted missing the chance to serve her coffee as he promised, but his driver idled on the street and they were wheels up in thirty minutes.

  * * * *

  The ding of an incoming message, along with Player’s insistent nudging, rousted Anna from her dream-filled slumber. Weren’t Rick’s strong arms around her moments ago? Oh, no, that was a dream. The sun was fully up. Didn’t he say he’d bring me coffee? What time is it? Am I late for work? Oh, wait, it’s Tuesday, my day off. Player pawed at her again, and she could read the desperation in his eyes.

  “Okay, time to go out, right?” She fished for her shoes under the sofa. “Get your leash.” By the time the dog brought it to her, she was up. “Let me grab my phone.” She pressed the elevator button. “Oh, there’s a message.” She let Player pull her along as she read. It was a video voice mail.

  By the time they reached the lobby, Rick’s video was playing. “Cupcake, I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye in person. We struck gold at Sterling’s. I have a suspicion he’s in Colombia, and not to see Juan Valdez. Speaking of coffee, color me guilty. I wasn’t there to bring it to you this morning. I promise to make it up to you. Don’t let Player wear you out…” That was supposed to be your job, she groused. “…That’s supposed to be my job.” Anna laughed at their mutual line of thought. “Till I see you again…” He held up his index finger, then all four fingers, then three fingers. “…hope you know what that means.” The video ended.

  “What what means? What is that?” She looked down at Player. “Who does that on a phone message?” Player looked back and yawned. “Your concern is underwhelming.” Anna sighed deeply. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry, and I do need coffee. I’m gonna have a little fast food.” Anna set off down the block, her sense of unease growing by the moment.

  What if Sterling was in Colombia laying the perfect trap? What if Sterling ambushed him? He could kill Rick. It would be her fault, and Rick would never know she loved him.

  * * * *

  The ‘bedroom’ on the jet was dark, thanks to the heavy blackout shades, and there was stone cold silence except for the distant drone of the engines. It was just right for a vamp’s rest, but all Rick could do was count the perforations in the jet’s leather headliner.

  What genius, Rick asked himself, breaks into a home and carries out millions in antiquities when an innocent like Anna is the one holding the alarm code? In the event of his untimely demise, he hadn’t laid any plans for Anna’s future safety. Now, at thirty thousand feet, and hurtling toward Barranquilla, his undead heart lay heavy in his chest. In the midst of his irrational pity party, the phone rang.

  Rick glanced irritably at the clock. There would be no rest. He snatched up the phone. “Hiatt.”

  “This is Larry. Not interrupting anything, am I?”

  “Just my guilt trip. Thanks for returning my call. Do me a favor. I stored a jeweled dirk in my safe. Would you pick it up and appraise it?”

  “Sure.”

  “I have a guest; I’ll text her to expect you.” Larry signed off the call and Rick texted a short message.

  * * * *

  Rick dispensed with his usual telephone courtesy the moment Helen answered the phone. That was just as well, since she lit into him as soon as she read the caller I.D.

  “Didn’t I tell you, if I were her mother, she’d never come through the front door? What is she doing in your apartment with that beast?”

  “And didn’t I tell you, you’re not the boss of me?”

  “I may not be the boss, but I keep track of the boss’s things.”

  “Are you objectifying her?” Rick smirked.

  “Aren’t you? Remember, forty-some years ago, I fed you. Don’t tell me what—”

  “And then you were delightful. Not so much now. This is different, I’m being serious now, Helen.”

  “Oh.”

  “She’s put herself in harm’s way for the Family, and it’s the Family’s job to protect her.”

  “What do you need, boss?”

  * * * *

  Anna returned to the penthouse with Player dragging her back to his water bowl. Once inside, she unsnapped the leash and felt s
uffocating stillness.

  What if this is it? What if I never see him again? What if all that remains are his collections, his shirts and socks and sweaters? What if all I can sample is his cologne or brush my hair with his hairbrush?

  Anna stripped down and made her way to Rick’s shower. She snorted gently at its splendor. Well, she should have expected it. She’d never seen so much marble outside a museum. Standing under the rain shower, she grasped for his washcloth, and the tears broke. She cried into it. He hadn’t even said goodbye.

  She came of age within this vampire culture. She crushed so hard on Matt, and that was all for nothing. Oh, for months she was alone unable to share her heartbreak with anyone. How could you tell your best friend you’d been thrown over by a vampire? Even if she’d had a best friend. It was pure irony that the vampire she had feared most was the man who’d won her heart.

  In numb mourning, she memorized the scent of Rick’s soap and shampoo. She lavished each of his bath products on her body as if his hands were holding the cloth. When the water ran cold, she reached for his fluffy bath sheet and let it embrace her as she sank to the bathroom floor in quiet sobs. Player, sensing her distress, leaned into her, and showed his best ‘puppy eyes.’

  “Player, we can’t let them do all the heavy lifting. We need to do something.”

  Anna dragged herself up, dried herself off and headed directly to Rick’s vast closet. Although Rick wasn’t there now, the shadow of his presence lingered in his wardrobe. Pulling on the softest wool socks and a pair of navy silk boxers, Anna turned from side to side in the floor to ceiling mirror. Her fingers lightly danced over a stack of cashmere sweaters until she found one the color of his milk chocolate eyes. It smelled like him. If she held it to her nose, she could almost feel him. She inhaled until she was forced to exhale. Every token of Rick was with her—everything except the man.

  Player snuffled through the bespoke English leather shoes from Crocket and Jones. At last, he let out a deep doggie moan of pleasure and sank onto the recently worn shoes Rick hadn’t put away. He picked up what was surely the costliest wingtip in the bunch and cradled it between massive paws. He was just about to taste that fine leather when Anna glanced around and caught him.

  “Oh no, no, no, no, no!”

  Player looked at his mistress with eyes of innocence.

  “Let’s get a bone!” she exclaimed over-enthusiastically.

  * * * *

  Anna’s back was turned to the elevator while the opener ground the top off a large can of dog food. “It’s time you had meat. Shoes are bad, meat is good.” Anna exaggerated her admonitions until she delivered the bowl. She was bent over, with her silk-clad ass in the air, when two rather large leather shoes suddenly approached her. Slowly, her gaze rose past lime green and cobalt blue argyle socks to sharply creased charcoal trousers. Those trousers seemed to go on forever. Then there was his face.

  What the hell is Lawrence from the museum’s research department doing in Rick’s apartment? Are they checking up on me? Did they GPS my company phone? How did he gain access to the penthouse elevator?

  “Lawrence! What are you doing here?”

  “Mr. Hiatt asked me to check on something.”

  How does he know Rick Hiatt? Anna retreated to the dining nook. “Are you checking up on me?” She was about to launch into an interrogation when she got a look at herself in the wall of mirrors. Why are there so damn many mirrors in a vampire’s home? She could barely keep from laughing at what Lawrence must see —a slip of a girl in man-sized clothing.

  “On weekends I always go for comfort clothes.” Lawrence said affably. “The boxers are a nice touch.”

  “My clothes were dirty…I… haven’t done laundry yet…the dog got mud…”

  “The building does have laundry services. I mean, why do laundry on your day off?”

  “Yeah, thanks, so, how do you know Rick?” Every permutation of that question rushed through her head. Is he a member of the club? Sub or Dom? Donor or Vamp? None of the above?

  “We share an interest in antiques. He has a piece he’s asked me to appraise.”

  “He’s out of town today,” Anna hedged.

  “Yeah, he told me he had a guest. I came by to see the piece wrapped in lambskin.”

  She dropped the nonchalant act. “It’s in the safe; I don’t know where that is.”

  “I do. No problem.” Larry headed toward Rick’s office and Anna fell right in step, with the dog behind her, sniffing suspiciously.

  “Oh, good! I would so love to hear what you have to say about that thing.”

  Larry was already working the safe’s keypad and opening the door as she cleared a space on the desk.

  “Please, would you unwrap it for me?” he asked.

  “You can’t touch it either?” She untied the ancient leather wrapping and let the jeweled dirk twinkle in the LED light. “Rick says this is real.” Anna tapped the humongous emerald in the hilt. “That just can’t be possible.”

  Larry produced a jeweler’s loop and pen light from his pocket. “Let’s take a look.” He scrutinized the stone. “I’m checking for air bubbles. Real emeralds don’t have them. Also, inclusions—real emeralds do.” He continued his examination for a moment, looking at different angles. “Yep, it all checks out.”

  She was incredulous. “But it’s carved! Why would anyone carve an emerald?”

  “People do.” Larry straightened and removed the jeweler’s loop. “These giant stones typically have irregular cuts to catch the deepest color.”

  “What’s the sculpture?” she asked, pointing to the jewel’s relief.

  “It’s the Fitzjarrald coat of arms.” Larry was matter of fact.

  “Who are the Fitzjarralds?” Her nose scrunched up, remembering Rick’s conversation in the car. “Are they a royal family?”

  “They are, to this day.”

  “And is Rick a Fitzjarrald?”

  “You’ll have to ask Rick about that.” Using the lambskin as a buffer, Larry turned the piece over to count the diamonds. “There’s easily a hundred and fifty carats of diamonds here. This is priceless.”

  “You mean these are real?” Anna gawked and drew back her fingertips.

  “They look real to me.”

  “Would it help if I researched this in connection to the Fitzjarrald family?”

  “If you do that, you should be discreet. This is a sensitive piece of history.”

  Moments of time with Rick flashed through her mind like pieces of a puzzle. His announcement that, “You may have saved my life.” The President’s send-off of, “God speed, Sir Richard.” The fact that Rick walked in daylight and lived surrounded by mirrors. His existence laughed in the face of vampire superstitions.

  Chapter 9

  The airstairs of Rick’s jet dropped shortly after six in the evening in Barranquilla. Night already enshrouded the city in staggering humidity. Rick drew in his customary ‘reading’ breath to gauge the city’s vibe. The scent caused him to grab for the railing. The coppery tang of blood combined with the stench of fear and violence permeated the city.

  What the hell is going on?

  Once he steadied himself, he took the stairs two at a time to reach the safety of the heavy-duty SUV waiting on the tarmac. Vamps were definitely being hunted here, and probably for good reason.

  Rick ducked into the back seat. A grim-faced, but no less handsome, Adam Lachlan greeted him. “Welcome to Hell.”

  Adam’s uncommonly long legs seemed cramped, even in the generously leggy vehicle. The parking lot lights made the silver in his burnished gold hair shimmer, and his pale aquamarine eyes flashed with irritation.

  “Good to see you, too,” Rick grumbled.

  “This time tomorrow, remember you said that.”

  Within moments, the sleek SUV powered toward the hangar. The C17 sent by the Vampire Council birthed a series of armored SUVs and a platoon of troops assembling equipment and weapons. Rick and Adam alighted their vehicle, b
ringing the hangar occupants to attention.

  The most muscular of the group approached them, his valor evident by the rows of colorful slides on his chest. His height nearly met Adam’s at attention, and he threw a sharp salute.

  “Good evening, Sirs. I’m Lieutenant Jan Kulczyk. I’m your point man on this mission.” He flashed a thousand-watt smile. Standing together, he and Adam looked like gigantic opposites. Where Adam was fair, Jan stood equally comely, but jet-haired, with cobalt eyes.

  Rick returned Kulczyk’s salute, looking up at him with a wry smile. “Thank you for your discretion on this black op, Lieutenant.”

  “Yes, Sir, proud to assist.” Kulczyk pointed toward the three Apache helicopters parked outside the hangar. “The Apaches depart at 22:00. We’ll drop the computerized weaponry within thirty minutes and return by 23:00.”

  Rick gestured toward a squad in camo pairing Bluetooth controllers “What’s your confidence on the wireless pieces?”

  Kulczyk held a set in his hands. “First, it is a guided armament. It has the necessary weight to lay down where we want it and it answers when we call.” The lieutenant smiled confidently. Adam picked up a canister and shook his head in disbelief. “I’d never question your judgment, old man, but Vamps handling white phosphorus and benzene?”

  Rick slid his hands in his pockets and nodded toward the Lieutenant.

  Kulczyk answered crisply, “Yes, Sir. We’re targeting vamps, so we’re going with SIP’s.”

  Adam winced at Rick. “This stuff is unstable as hell.”

  “That’s the fire breathing dragon I know and love.” Rick thumped him on the back. “You could save us all a trip with a quick fly by; there’s still time for me to annoy you into a shape-shift.”