As she listened, his steps sounded closer. She licked her lips, a grumble low in her belly. She giggled thinking how unladylike the sound was. Still, she was hungry and Rodolphe always brought her the best meals.
How long had he been gone? It seemed as though it had been days. She laughed lightly. It was more likely to have been mere minutes or an hour at most. It just seemed an eternity whenever they were parted. Being at his side was a joy like none other, and he never left her for more than a little while.
The door to her chambers opened and Rodolphe stepped through, a whoosh of cool air following him. His blond hair was pulled back with a leather tie and a few tendrils, damp from the rain falling outside, escaped to curl around his strong face. She thought of how his hair fell through her fingers like fine silk when loosened from the tie. His lips, full and red, beckoned to her with a slight smile. His knee-high boots were so shiny, the firelight reflected off them, while his fur-lined, calf-length cloak looked stunning over a black jerkin and stockings. She particularly liked the prominent codpiece.
“Ma chérie,” he whispered. She loved the sound of his voice, the smooth French of his native tongue. It was sexy, alluring, and sent shivers up her spine. She’d never grow tired of listening to it even if she lived for a thousand years.
“Rodolphe.” She rose and patted her skirt. She knew how much he liked her in this dress. How he delighted in slowly taking her hair down and working his fingers through the braids until at last it hung lush and free down her naked back. But, that was for later.
“Wait,” he told her before she’d taken more than a step in his direction. Then as she watched, he pulled around a pretty young woman who’d been hidden behind his large body. “Mademoiselle Maynard, may I present Princess Catherine.” He smiled broadly, his sharp canines peeking from beneath his lips.
“Oh, Rodolphe.” Catherine sighed, tingles running down her arms. “You must stop calling me that.” She swept her gaze over the woman.
The young woman was pretty, very pretty, though the manner of her dress spoke to her lowly station in life. It didn’t matter to Catherine. It wasn’t like their relationship would last longer than a few hours at most. They would not be friends.
Catherine walked over to the woman and touched her perfect skin. She was pale, her brown eyes wide and swimming with unshed tears. She was thin, though not starvation thin. “Please don’t be frightened,” Catherine said to her, still stroking her cheek. Her face was warm, flushed even. A slight tremor ran beneath her flesh.
“I’m not afraid,” the woman declared boldly, though her voice shook.
Liar. They always said they weren’t afraid, but they always were. Catherine didn’t know why either. She wasn’t an ogre. She was probably the most beautiful woman they’d ever seen, so why they’d be afraid of her was a mystery.
“What’s your name?” Catherine asked as she continued to stroke her cheek.
Her bravado of a moment before faded quickly. “Emma,” she whispered.
“Emma,” Catherine said breathily before she kissed Emma on the lips.
The young woman’s lips quivered and Catherine smiled. She brushed her hand down Emma’s arm while she raised her gaze to Rodolphe’s face. His eyes glittered and he licked his lips. Catherine smiled more widely and her heart raced. She loved this part.
The incredible gowns, the parties, even the rich, attentive men of her former life were insignificant compared to the wonders Rodolphe shared with her. He showed her a world she never knew existed, and it was exciting beyond anything she’d ever imagined. Though he brought her comfort and riches, it was the power that sent her pulse racing. Nothing could touch the excitement of pure power.
Catherine tucked Emma’s hand in the crook of her arm and led her to the settee by the fire. The logs crackled and popped, the scent of the burning pine mingling with the scent of Catherine’s perfume. She sat, pulling Emma down next to her on the soft velvet seat. Rodolphe handed each of them a crystal goblet filled with fragrant brandy. Only the best brandy for a very special guest.
Emma’s hands shook as she put the glass to her lips and drank. One sip. Two. Just a touch of brandy––enough to soften the worry lines creasing Emma’s pretty face. It worked every time.
When she finished her drink, Rodolphe took the empty glass and set it aside. Catherine handed him her barely touched glass, then lightly touched Emma’s neck, brushing aside strands of hair. The skin of her neck was smooth and warm. A vein pulsed beneath Catherine’s fingertip.
“What do you want?” Emma asked in a voice whisper-soft, the scent of brandy heavy on her breath.
Rodolphe stood behind them, his hand stroking Emma’s hair. His touch was light and loving, though his gaze was fixed on Catherine’s face.
She pressed her lips against Emma’s ear. “Pleasure, my sweet.” She inhaled Emma’s earthy scent and sighed. Then she lightly kissed her ear as she ran her hand over Emma’s small, firm breast.
Catherine’s canines lengthened, the sensation sending ripples through her entire body. The feeling never got old. She tilted her head toward the creamy skin of Emma’s neck and, with her gaze still intent on Rodolphe’s face, bit down.
*
Colin watched Ivy out of the corner of his eye. She’d been quiet since they left Spokane, not that he blamed her. How would he feel if a vampire had taken down the person he’d married and left her like a discarded rag doll in a pitch black cemetery? And, if that wasn’t bad enough, to then be staked through the heart and beheaded when the sun went down the next day. No doubt about it, he’d be a little freaked out.
Through the years, he’d lost people he knew––friends, acquaintances, and fellow hunters––but never a lover. That’d be tough…tough enough to send him over the edge he was pretty damned close to most of the time already. It’d never happen to him. A person had to fall in love first, and the way he saw it, that was about to happen somewhere between no way and never. Even if he did have the misfortune to fall in love, who in their right mind would fall in love with him? Most wouldn’t believe him if he was honest about his life’s work. And the ones who might probably weren’t the best marriage material.
He glanced at Ivy again and she seemed to be all right, at least as far as he could tell. Then again, it was hard to call. After all, he didn’t know this woman. Oh, he’d like to. He’d like to know her really well. That fact dawned on him about six seconds after he met her. The morning he arrived in Moses Lake, as she stood on the beach and directed her staff to pull in the body from the lake, she’d fascinated him. From a distance, she’d been stunning, but up close…well, it was no secret why her husband wanted her. She was beautiful, smart, and strong. Who could resist?
He pressed his eyes with the tips of his fingers and told himself to get a grip. Maybe it was time to give it a rest. He’d been hunting his entire adult life and was very good at his job. Still, he didn’t usually find himself distracted by pretty women with luscious curves and full lips that beckoned to be kissed. Nope, he wasn’t that kind of guy.
Until now.
She even smelled good, an incredible feat considering where they’d been less than an hour ago and the fact they were now in a van with a dead body in the back. More precisely, a dead body that became an undead body that became yet again a dead body. Still he sat here thinking about how great she smelled and how much he’d like to kiss her. Yes, indeed, he was definitely losing it. Retirement might be on the horizon if he kept this up.
“I don’t understand,” Ivy said, her quiet words a welcome diversion from his wandering thoughts.
He opened his eyes and looked at her. She stared straight ahead as if trying to drive through a blizzard instead of down a stretch of flat, dry, unbending freeway. Ahead of them unwound miles of road she’d undoubtedly driven hundreds of times before, and he’d bet she could drive with her eyes closed. The only thing that broke the monotony of the landscape was the occasional tumbleweed rolling by on a gust of wind. Well, that and a
cow or two here and there.
“What don’t you understand?”
“Why Jorge? Why Moses Lake? I don’t get why this bastard, excuse me, bitch, is targeting my town. What’s so special about Moses Lake to make her detour and kill not one but three people? Most people drive by it so fast they don’t even realize they’ve missed an entire town.”
Colin was pretty sure the key wasn’t Moses Lake. In spite of the three victims, this central Washington town wasn’t Destiny’s endgame. Why she was pausing to drop more than a single body here bothered him too, but he was certain it was nothing more than a pause. Destiny was spiraling toward an apex about a hundred miles to the east. Right in the middle of a city that he now knew another vampire called home.
He was as bothered as Ivy was. It didn’t make sense that both he and the church would be oblivious to the existence of a third vampire. Centuries’ worth of experience kept them informed and on the hunt to finally rid the planet of an ancient scourge. Their records were voluminous, detailed, and very accurate, which is why they were so close to making the impossible happen. At least that’s what they’d all believed. How could they be this far out of the loop with the good doc? It made him wonder how much more they either didn’t have at all or simply had wrong.
He’d have to deal with the hole in their exhaustive intel later. It was bound to take some time to figure out what they’d missed and where. Even more important was how they missed such a critical piece of information. It made him feel vulnerable. He didn’t like feeling vulnerable. Once back in his hotel room, he’d make some calls.
“I don’t think it’s Moses Lake in particular,” he told Ivy, at the same time weighing exactly how much he should tell her.
He could probably trust her. Then again, her very good friend was a vampire so what did that say about her? People simply didn’t make friends with vampires. It was dangerous and, quite frankly, stupid. Making a vampire buddy usually ended up making a person dead. It was the nature of the beast, so to speak.
“How can you say that? Three bodies in less than a month? To say that’s atypical for this part of the state is a huge understatement. Sure, we have some gangbanger problems, and drive-bys have killed more than a couple, but gangbangers are more straightforward than this sneaky bastard. They don’t drink the blood of their enemies, if you catch my drift.”
She had her face turned away so all he could see was her profile. It was impossible to get a sense of her thoughts. So, he waited. Finally, Ivy glanced his way, and her dark eyes were stormy. It took a millisecond to make his decision. Despite what he could only characterize as a lapse in judgment for befriending a vampire, he was certain she was trustworthy. He decided to go for it.
“The vampire isn’t targeting Moses Lake per se,” he told her.
“No?”
“No.”
“Okay, cowboy, I still don’t get it.” Ivy flicked a lever on the steering wheel to put on the blinker and then pulled the van onto the freeway off-ramp. The lights of the town glowed as they drove down the hill and toward the morgue. “If not Moses Lake, then why all the bodies?”
“It’s a bit complicated.” Actually, to say it was a bit complicated was a little like saying Lake Michigan had a couple gallons of water in it.
Her voice was tight and her back ramrod straight. “I’m pretty sure I’m smart enough to follow.”
Colin laid a hand on her arm and the muscles tightened beneath his palm. “Of course you can and I’m sorry if I sounded condescending. I didn’t mean to. It’s simply easier to show than to tell. Let’s get Jorge in the cooler and then I can show you exactly what I have. I promise, once you see what I’ve discovered, it’ll make a lot more sense.”
Ivy pulled the van into the loading area at the back of the coroner’s office and navigated until she had the rear even with the double doors of the building. Unlike when they pulled up to the morgue in Spokane, she didn’t immediately get out. Instead, she studied his face in the orange glow of the loading-dock lights.
She seemed to be satisfied with whatever she searched for because she turned her intense gaze away, put a hand on the door, and popped it open. A rush of fresh air poured into the van, sweeping away the electric tension. “All right. Let’s get him inside and then you start talking.”
Chapter Eight
Ivy was aware of Colin every second of the trip home from Spokane. It was outrageous, considering a few feet behind them lay the body of her ex-husband—“ex” being the operative word. Still, it was weird. She was as jumpy as if she was out on a first date.
Oh, yeah, a date with a tall, sexy vampire hunter. Just her luck. Did anything normal ever happen around her anymore?
Sure, he was all business and had been since the first moment she laid eyes on him. Yet, something simmered beneath his very calm surface. Something definitely simmered beneath her surface. Unfortunately, she just wasn’t sure what it was and was afraid to delve too deeply to figure it out.
Instead of spending precious time worrying about it, she got out of the van and began to tend to business. At the rear of the van, she opened the doors, pulled the gurney to the edge, and waited for the legs beneath to pop down and connect with the concrete. She tried not to think about the fact it was Jorge in the body bag or that tall, dark, and handsome was right behind her.
“Let me,” Colin said as he brushed against her to take hold of the gurney. “You get the door.”
The brief contact sent a shiver through her. God, she hoped he didn’t notice. “Sure.”
Quickly Ivy went to the door, waved her badge across the sensor pad, and waited for the click. When she heard it, she pulled the double doors open and held them while Colin pushed the gurney inside. His arm brushed hers again. She shivered. Again. Damn.
She wasn’t any less jumpy when Jorge was safely inside the cooler, the van was returned to its normal parking space, and the office was nice and quiet again. In fact, she was even twitchier now that it was just the two of them. If he brushed up against her again, she’d probably do something really classy like hyperventilate. Some big bad coroner she was.
“How about a drink?” She didn’t know if he was a drinker, but she sure could use a nice strong toddy. A little liquid courage or nice sedative? Either way, it worked for her tonight. Besides, it got them out of the morgue. Everything else aside, she was acutely aware that Jorge was on the other side of the cooler door. He might be dead—really dead this time—but she was still uncomfortable.
Colin tilted his head, eyed her for a moment, then nodded. “A drink would be nice.”
Oh, yeah, thank the stars. “Come on.” She waved in the direction of the door. “I’ll drive.”
Ten minutes later they sat across from each other in the dim light of Earl’s, a local watering-hole landmark, and drank beer from icy mugs. Music played low, some contemporary country singer with a sweet voice who sang about a cheating boyfriend. She thought about Jorge, then took a big swig of the beer and pushed him from her mind.
With smoking banned in Washington, the air in Earl’s held only the scent of booze and spicy chicken wings. It smelled nothing like the morgue and there wasn’t a dead—or undead—body to be seen. So far, so good.
Ivy took another drink and let the cool, malty beer slide down her throat. It tasted nice but wasn’t providing the hoped-for sedative effect. She’d thought once they were away from the morgue, she’d calm right down. Didn’t happen. If anything, she was more nervous even when she wasn’t thinking about Jorge. It didn’t do any good to try to fool herself. She was too aware of Colin to be anywhere close to calm.
She looked around the room, full even though it was a Wednesday night. Earl’s was a popular hangout any day of the week, and on Saturdays, it was wall-to-wall. At least there was safety in numbers.
“So,” she said after she’d sipped the beer a couple more times and hoped Colin didn’t notice how her hand trembled. “Tell me what’s happening in my town and why Dracula is dropping bodies in my
lake.”
He set his half-empty mug on the table. Apparently she wasn’t the only one nervous tonight. That made her feel a little better. Little? Hell––it made her feel a whole bunch better.
“I’m confident the vampire is the one who calls herself Destiny.”
“Okay, but that doesn’t explain much. Who is this Destiny?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I wish I knew, Ivy. She surfaced sometime around 1600 and popped up in southern Italy around the turn of the seventeenth century. Though she’s been on the hunt list ever since, she’s beautiful, crafty, and elusive. We’ve only gotten close to her once before, back in the mid-1800s.”
“Don’t you and your hunters have hundreds of years of experience?”
“Yes.”
“And you haven’t even been able to get close to her?”
“No.”
“Until now.”
He shrugged and turned the beer mug between his hands. “Yes and no.”
“Well, that certainly clears things up.”
“Hey. Give me a sec.”
She wasn’t being fair. But that happened after a crappy day. “I’m sorry. Go on.”
“All right, here it is in a nutshell. After hundreds of years, we’ve managed to stamp out all but a few remaining vampires. Now, I’m really close to Destiny and I’ll take her down. My order has been busy throughout the years, eliminating what never should have been in the first place. Things like Destiny are not meant to exist. This isn’t her time or her place.”
His voice was cold, unbending. Ivy knew hatred when she heard it, and Colin clearly hated vampires down to his very soul. What had made him feel this deeply? What happened to make him view existence in such black-and-white terms? Ivy didn’t have the benefit of the knowledge an ancient order could provide, and perhaps she didn’t see the big picture as he did. Even so, not all vampires were evil.
Crimson Vengeance Page 8