My head spun as I remembered the wet, thick sound of the spike penetrating Maxie’s chest. I couldn’t have killed her. No, this had to be another horrible nightmare. I’d reacted without thinking when I went for Hallow. I couldn’t stand watching him suck the life’s blood from Victoria. But why had Maxie gotten in the way? I didn’t really need to ask that. I knew the answer: she couldn’t help herself. Protecting the source of her addiction was all that mattered to her. But after her years with him, she had to know that Hallow couldn’t be killed. Had she wanted to die?
I didn’t understand why we were all just standing there, staring at the madman. “Why is the fighting over?” I whispered to Devereux, fear clenching my stomach. “Tell me what’s happening.”
He pressed me closer. “Watch.”
I made myself stare at Hallow. I’d been so caught up in remorse about Maxie’s death that I hadn’t noticed what was happening to him.
His terrified face reminded me of The Scream. His silver eyes went abnormally wide and his high-pitched keening wail descended the frequency scale and could once again be heard by human ears. While I watched, his beautiful body — or rather, the image he’d projected — began to blister and swell, as if he had been dipped in acid. Within seconds the familiar façade was gone and all that remained was the grotesque specter.
Frightened by the fog of impending doom permeating the air, I glanced up at Devereux again. My mouth went dry. “Am I hallucinating?”
He gave me a gentle squeeze. “The Slayer has lost his tether to the physical world.”
What?
Devereux rubbed his cheek against my hair. “From what I just read from his mind, he cannot remain without a slave to feed from. You have bested him.”
“Bested him?” I said, distracted by the horror show in front of me. “You aren’t making any sense. I don’t understand any of this.”
Hallow’s vast, malignant aura pulsed and writhed, oscillating around the distorted, twitching thing in the bloody center that looked like a gangrenous cell. The holographic image shifted as I studied it from slightly different angles. Hundreds — no, thousands — of bony creatures swam or floated in thick, slimy liquid — or maybe it was heavy, noxious air. All the lost souls trapped in Hallow’s metaphysical hell stared at me, wide-eyed and desperate, somehow communicating terror without having actual faces to express anything. Lightning-like energy arced throughout the putrid sac.
The entire energy field began to spread, mimicking the shockwave around a nuclear explosion, and my heart pounded as the edge of the toxic mortuary rolled toward me like a foul tsunami. I raised my arms up to cover my face and braced myself for the impact as I waited to be swept inside Hallow’s psychic abyss—
—but nothing happened.
I lowered my arms to discover the grisly aura deflating, almost as if it were in the throes of birth contractions. As it transitioned from one dimension to another, it pushed itself through an invisible fissure, becoming translucent. A face — the only one I’d seen in there — floated into the remaining section of the sac and as I watched, Maxie’s familiar form appeared. She gave a sad smile before dissolving back into the sea of death.
With a deep rumble, the Hallow-thing vanished.
A heavy silence fell in the underground asylum.
What just happened? If others hadn’t been present to witness the incomprehensible delirium, I would have feared for my sanity. A chill ran through my body. Could it really be over?
A deep voice boomed, “Master, the human is near death. Do you wish me to transport him to the penthouse?”
The human?
I gasped and stared toward the vampire squatting next to a very-blue Tom. We’d all forgotten him, and now he was freezing to death on the chilly ground.
“Tom — please, no!” I broke free of Devereux’s arms and ran to him. Even through the haze of my previously altered state, I recalled the fight between my rarely courageous friend and the monster. He’d tried his best to save me.
Devereux knelt down next to me and hugged me against him. “I can barely hear his heartbeat. He has little time left.”
My body went cold inside the warm blanket. I grabbed Devereux’s arm. “Can’t you do something? Transport him to a hospital? Cast a spell to heal him?” For the second time that night, I cried, but these tears were not caused by anyone’s influence. They were pure grief.
Devereux touched his head against mine. “I am not able to bring back the dead, my love. I am sorry.”
I jerked away and turned to him, excited. I grasped his arm, my fingers pressing into his cold skin. “Yes, you are — you are able to bring back the dead! He wanted to be a vampire. You can transform him. You can! Please, Devereux. I don’t want to lose him this way. There has been enough death and misery tonight.”
Devereux laid a hand on Tom’s chest and closed his eyes, then he lifted Tom’s hand and met my gaze. “I would not do this, not even for you, if I had not seen him take extraordinary action on your behalf. You must understand that there is no guarantee. Not everyone survives a turning of this sort. He is weak already, and he might not withstand the challenge.” He stroked his finger down my face. “Are you sure you wish me to make your friend one of the undead? He will not be the man you knew, not for a long time — perhaps never again.”
No, I didn’t want him to transform my oldest friend into a bloodsucking creature of the night, but since Tom had made his desires known, and he was nearly dead already, I didn’t see what other choice I had. I simply wasn’t ready to let go, not when Tom was dying because of me.
“Yes,” I whispered, “I’m sure.”
Devereux stood and spoke to the vampire still crouched at Tom’s head. “The dawn is less than an hour away. Take him to the penthouse and prepare him. I shall follow.”
The vampire gathered Tom into his arms and they vanished.
Then Devereux ordered the vampire holding a limp Victoria, “Take her.”
As they vanished, I stared down at the ritual circle in which Victoria had been held prisoner. The colorful symbols and letters looked so benign in the remaining candlelight, but the last few hours had been a nightmare — one I would never forget. Even while the sane part of me had been locked away, I’d still been observing everything, every hideous detail was seared into my brain.
Maxie was dead.
I’d killed her.
My mind was numb, empty. “How can I simply go about my normal life as if the last few days haven’t happened?” I asked myself, out loud.
“Do not torture yourself, Kismet.” Devereux enfolded me in his arms again. “The responsibility for the death and destruction of the recent past can be laid at Hallow’s doorstep alone. It was his abuse of his lýtle that caused her willingness to die.” He tightened his grip. “Come. I must attend to your friend before the sun rises, and you must sleep.”
I relaxed my head against his chest, closed my eyes and felt the familiar sensation of freefall. A soft breeze blew against my face as we transported from the hidden gentlemen’s club under the streets of Denver to Devereux’s high-rise penthouse. When Devereux released me, I opened my eyes.
He stepped in front of me, looking like a war casualty. His hair was so saturated with blood, it appeared brown instead of blond, but nothing could dim the brilliant green-blue of his eyes. “My staff is here to assist you in my absence. As always, my home is yours.” He held my face in his hands and gently kissed my lips. “I will do what I can for Tom.”
He disappeared.
Several unfamiliar women swarmed toward me, startling me. They’d been so quiet, I hadn’t noticed them. I pulled the ends of the blanket tighter around myself.
A tall, elegant, dark-skinned woman stepped forward and offered a warm smile. No fangs. “Welcome, Dr. Knight. I’m Carolyn. You must be exhausted. Devereux said you usually prefer a shower, but we thought, after the night you’ve had, you might enjoy soaking in the tub, so both are available. We’ve also prepared food and drink for you
, when you’re ready.” She tilted her head, waiting for my response.
“Are you vampires?” They didn’t feel like vampires to me, but I wasn’t sure how keen my awareness was at the moment. It would be a while before I trusted my instincts again.
“No.” She chuckled. “Garden-variety humans. Devereux has hundreds of human employees, although not all of them are aware of his true nature. We” — she pointed to her companions — “have been with him for years. He’s a wonderful man.”
She didn’t refer to Devereux as master. That was one point in her favor. I didn’t ask what they were employed to do.
“He also asked me to get your permission to call the clients you have scheduled for today and tell them you have a personal emergency and will need to reschedule. Is that all right?”
My first reaction was to insist I’d see my clients, but that idea quickly deflated. A traumatized, grief-stricken therapist certainly wouldn’t be at the top of her game, so for all intents and purposes, I was temporarily useless to them. “Yes, thank you. If you would tell them I’ll call later...” I paused. “Just out of curiosity, when exactly did Devereux tell you all this? He’s been with me for the last several hours.”
“Devereux communicates with me telepathically. He told me shortly before you arrived here. Shall we go?” she asked.
I started to say I didn’t need any help, that I could run my own bath and find my own food, but I realized that simply wasn’t true. I was exhausted, and my heart was so filled with pain, I could barely breathe. Help would actually be great.
Carolyn led the way and I shuffled along behind her with the other women bringing up the rear, like an impromptu royal procession.
After a hot bath, a small meal and a glass of wine, I let them tuck me in.
Sleep sucked me under.
***
The smell of coffee once again caressed my nostrils and enticed me to rejoin the land of the living. I was beginning to associate Devereux’s penthouse with the aroma of high-quality java.
I put on a comfortable bathrobe and wandered out to the dining area, expecting to find another breakfast buffet, and I wasn’t disappointed.
Victoria sat at the end of the table, stirring a cup of tea. She was dressed in one of her lovely goddess gowns and she smiled as I approached. “I could get used to this.” She chuckled as she flicked a hand toward the feast.
I hurried over and pulled out the chair next to hers and sat. “Are you all right?” Her neck and cheek were a mass of multi-colored bruises and her lip was split and swollen. My stomach tightened in anger as I confronted the damage Hallow had inflicted on her.
“Yes. I’m better than I would’ve expected, considering.” She sounded surprisingly perky. She patted my hand and added, “And I’ll be even better by tonight, after my coven has performed a healing ritual on me.” She took a sip of tea. “You’re welcome to come, you know. I think it would be good for you to deepen your occult knowledge and practice your skills. And we could help heal that terrible bruise on the side of your face.”
I stared at her until she sighed and dropped the false cheerfulness. “Okay, it was horrible. I feel defiled and broken — slimed. I’m almost sorry he’s dead — or whatever he is — because now I can’t take my revenge. I can’t make him pay for what he did to me.” Her breathing was coming fast and ragged now, and her face was flushed. “I’m left with all these layers of hatred, with nowhere to put them.”
She started to cry, and I scooted closer and hugged her.
We stayed like that, silently holding each other, for several minutes, until Victoria sniffed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. She shifted back in her seat, and I took that as a cue to give her more space, so I moved my chair back and poured myself a cup of coffee while I waited for her to continue.
“When he came into the lobby yesterday morning—” She stopped, then said, “Was it really only yesterday? Anyway, I was so shocked by what he really was that I hesitated too long. I should have pressed the alarm button under my desk, but my brain froze. I couldn’t think. And before I even realized, he’d transported me out of there into that disgusting, freezing-cold underground pit.” She gave a cynical laugh. “I did manage to fight him off for about two seconds before he entrapped me with those demonic eyes. I think I pulled out a handful of his hair.”
“Yes,” I said softly, “I found one of the strands on your desk. That’s how we knew he had you.”
She stared out one of the large windows framing a panoramic view of snow-covered mountain peaks. “I was so afraid his plan would succeed, that he’d control you to the point where you’d do what he wanted. It almost worked. He’s incredibly powerful.”
Fear washed through me. “What do you mean? You said he is powerful. He’s been destroyed, hasn’t he?”
She brought her gaze to mine. “I don’t think whatever he is can be destroyed. He lost his connection to the physical plane when Maxie sacrificed herself before he could claim you, and I want to believe he’ll exist for millennia like that, as that abhorrent energy field we saw, unable to take form in our world... but he’s like no other. He defies everything I know about the laws of physics and the nature of vampirism. All we can do is strengthen and educate ourselves.” She took my hand. “I was serious about inviting you to my coven. We are a large circle of strong, dynamic witches, healers, seers and teachers. You need to acknowledge and sharpen your abilities.”
“Abilities?” I frowned. “I’m so tired of hearing that word, Victoria. I just don’t understand. I know I’m intuitive and empathic, but I don’t consider those to be special things. They’re normal, everyone has them to some degree. And I can see a few ghosts — but so what? What are these powers I’m supposed to have?” I paused, then said, “Hallow said I’m an emotional vampire.”
“Not powers,” Victoria said, shaking her head vigorously. “Abilities. Powers implies something beyond the range of the species.” She smiled at my confused expression. “You know, like comic book superheroes, shooting fire or webs from your fingertips, bending steel with your eyeballs, being able to fly, that sort of thing. You simply have an exceptional amount of your particular abilities. For example, everyone can sing, right?”
I was on safer ground now. I knew where she was going with the story because I’d used this example myself to explain intuition to clients. “Well, most people have average singing abilities, some can’t carry a tune to save their souls, and a few have extraordinary talent. It’s the same for everything: all vampires have the same abilities — mind-reading, teleportation, immortality — to a greater or lesser degree. Devereux has added talents thanks to his magical lineage, but none of those things are powers, per se.”
She sipped her tea. “People misunderstand witches, too. We’re often accused of having powers when we really have skills, abilities, talents, wisdom, and, in some cases, common religious beliefs. You told me you learned about Wicca in a comparative religions class in graduate school. See? Nothing strange about that.”
“Okay — but so what?” I still didn’t get it. “Being empathic and intuitive comes in handy with my work, but sometimes it’s a curse, sensing things I don’t want to know. What I don’t get is why so many vampires are interested in my so-called abilities?”
It was her turn to shrug. “I only know what Devereux told me. You’re a gifted human. That’s what he said when he first met you, that something about the level of your innate talents is unusual. He suspects that you’ve accumulated them over many lifetimes — a bit like adding chords to a basic melody.” She laughed at my expression. “Yes, I know, you’re not at all comfortable with the notion of reincarnation yet, but after all you’ve seen, isn’t it silly to resist something as widely accepted as past lives? Many ancient religions take reincarnation for granted.” She pointed a finger at me. “Put your Inner Scientist to work on it and do some research.”
I chuckled as she continued, “The way Devereux described it was that there’s something about the textur
e of your abilities that enhances him. You act like a crystal, concentrating and expanding energy — or maybe a tuning fork, holding all the notes in his aural spectrum. Ask him. He’ll tell you.”
“Crystals, reincarnation, vampires, wizards? Tuning fork? Aural spectrum? The texture of my abilities? How much more weirdness is there? I’ll be banned from the psychologists’ club for sure.”
She laughed, and laughed a bit more as my stomach growled loudly, and I realized I’d been sitting in front of all that delicious food without eating any of it. I helped myself to a bagel and some fruit and chewed thoughtfully for a few minutes. There was another question I hadn’t asked her yet.
“Before I killed Maxie and Hallow went wherever he went — I know—” I held up my hand in a ‘stop’ gesture in response to her mouth opening. “I know I didn’t kill her intentionally, but I did kill her. I have to accept that.” I sat up straighter, trying to calm my heartbeat and rein in my mounting anxiety. “But before that happened, you said something about me using his blood flowing in my veins. And Maxie said I drank more of his blood than I knew about. Since he’s gone, does that mean the effects of his blood are gone, too?”
I must have looked as frightened as I felt. “I wish I knew,” she said, smiling compassionately. “My guess is that whatever changes his blood made to your psyche, your physiology and your abilities will be permanent, but you’re still in charge of how they manifest in your life. I hate to sound like a broken record, but it’s Devereux you need to ask. He is the only one who could possibly advise you.”
She was right, of course.
We ate in silence for a few minutes and then she pushed her chair back from the table and stood. “I need to return to work — to take control of my life again.” She grinned. “I know I’m not irreplaceable, but things certainly do get chaotic when I’m out of the loop!” She rested her palm against the side of my face where Maxie hit me. “We’re in this together, my friend. We’ll figure it out.” She leaned down and kissed my forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Crimson Psyche Page 34