by Jackie Ivie
If he really was a vampire.
Cameron Preston?
The name was questioned this time, as if the speaker knew Cam had gained some motion. He sent the message to turn his head. Spent an inordinate amount of energy and willpower toward that effort. This was ridiculous. Akin to being a marionette working with puppets while most of his fingers were paralyzed. But something worked. His head finally rolled to one side. He felt like cheering, except that motion was beyond contemplation at the moment.
I know you can hear me.
He blinked. Not only could he hear the words, he could see the speaker. There was a young male standing at the end of the bed. He was dressed in a uniform of some kind. Civil War? Spanish-American War? World War I? Cam hadn’t studied warfare, so he wasn’t sure. The man wasn’t just a spectral outline. Nor was he a heat or cold signature. He was a physical reality...except some of him was missing. Parts were transparent. Cam could make out the outline of the drapery through the man’s lower torso and legs. He didn’t appear to have feet.
Cam blinked again. The view didn’t alter. Wow. He wasn’t looking through a FLIR camera. Or infrared lens. Helium Neon Laser. Or any other piece of equipment. He was seeing a real ghost. This was incredible. Unbelievable. Intense. Shivers rippled over his exposed arms before disappearing down his belly beneath the covers.
“Who...are you?”
His voice was a gruff whisper. It hurt his throat.
Jesse.
The ghost’s mouth didn’t move, but Cam heard the answer. His eyes widened. The burning sensation got more surface area to harm. He narrowed his eyelids again.
“From...the Ramsay...place?”
He’d give half his bank account if his voice would work properly. The man nodded and spoke again.
You need to return.
“Yeah. I...know.”
She isn’t safe.
“Tes...sa?”
Cam had been mistaken. The burning sensation wasn’t painful. The instant shard of agony that hit his chest cancelled anything he might previously have assigned the moniker of pain. It seized his heart with an iron fist and then it squeezed. Hard. Made each moment an eternity of torment and suffering. A sense of loss permeated his frame. His vision blurred. He blinked against an onslaught of tears.
Tears?
I do not speak of your mate.
Relief flooded Cam, freeing his heart, releasing the sensation of pain, and halting any desire to weep. But wait. Cam frowned. Was he hearing this right? And, if so...since when did a ghost know about the mating thing? Oh. No. It didn’t bear thinking on. Had he and Tessa had a witness to their shower? The follow-up lovemaking session? His collapse this morning? Cam tensed, and his muscles actually obeyed. It was getting easier to see, too. And his voice worked. He’d worry about why later. He had bigger worries.
“Have you been here...the entire time?” he asked.
No.
“How long? Exactly?”
I just got here. You were not easy to find, Doctor.
“You tracked me down?”
Someone has to save Eleanor!
“Eleanor?”
She’s afraid of him.
“I remember. Eleanor was the name of the murdered victim.”
The ghost of Jesse nodded.
“He’s loose now, isn’t he?”
The ghost nodded again.
“Great. Just great. That makes this a real mess.”
How so?
“Well. Supposedly, I’m a vampire. And it is very difficult to say that with a straight face.”
The ghost smiled. This time when he spoke the words were audible, and his lips moved. “That is the reason you can see and hear me, Cameron Preston.”
“Even the spirits know I’m a vampire now? Well. That’s...just great.”
“You are wasting time!”
“I’m being chastised? By a ghost? Well, Jesse. You’re just going to have to mellow out here. My entire belief system has been knocked sideways, okay? I’m supposed to accept that vampires are real, that I am one, and that I have to go and save a ghost from what? An evil ghost? Well. Sorry. If all the aforementioned is true then we have a problem. I can hardly conduct a ritual cleansing to send an evil entity to hell. Speaking of, I’m not even sure hell exists. Let me embellish that. I’m not sure of anything anymore. Would you be?”
“You will need this.”
Jesse had a hatchet with him. It resembled the one Tessa had used at the cellar when she’d killed a couple of men, from what felt like a week ago. Jesse placed the ax at the foot of the mattress, leaning the handle against a bedpost. Cam looked at for long moments before shifting his focus back to the ghost. Jesse was fading. The drapes could be seen through his chest and lower jaw now.
“I must go.”
“Wait!”
The ghost disappeared. The sun set. Sensation returned to every part of his body. Without one hint of warning. A drum started up from somewhere. Another drum joined in. Same beat. Deeper sound. It was enervating. Hypnotic. Cam sat. Tessa stirred beside him. He reached for the ax. It didn’t seem to weigh much. He ran his thumb along the edge. He could feel Tessa watching him. He was very aware of her. As if every cell on his body yearned and then reached toward her. His heart swelled. Warmth radiated from his chest. Wow. Being with Tessa altered everything. He didn’t dare put words to what that meant. It was enough that she was there. Beside him. Near enough to touch if he wished.
The ax blade was extremely sharp. It opened a vicious-looking cut in his flesh. The wound immediately welled with blood. Cam’s upper teeth vibrated. He ran his tongue along his teeth, going back-and-forth, stopped on either side by the obstruction of elongated canines. There was an undeniable fact. He had fangs. Blood appeared to be the activating force. He pulled his tongue back. Watched the cut close, knitting into a perfect scar. And then it disappeared altogether.
“Where’d ya’ git that thang?”
Cam smiled. “You have a Southern accent.”
“Oh, no. No. I can’t. I worked for decades to change it.”
“Why? It’s cute.”
“I didn’t want to be pigeonholed the moment anyone met me.”
“Tell you what. Let’s start a discussion list.”
“A what?”
“It’s a list. For things we’ll discuss later. When we have time.”
“We have time now.”
“No, we don’t. And that’s not up for discussion.”
“You’re very used to getting your own way, aren’t you?”
“I was a loner. I lived by myself. I always got my way.”
Tessa considered him for a long moment. “I think we need to put that on a discussion list, too.”
“Deal. Now, we need to get moving. Why don’t you point me to my wardrobe? We’ll get dressed. And then we need to find your houseguests.”
“Leonard and his fiancée?”
“Yep. That would be the ones.”
She was instantly in front of him. On her knees. Without one stitch of material to obscure any of it. This woman? With that body? Cam’s frame responded despite everything. He had to resist the urge to grab her. Show her what she meant to him. Love her with his body until his mouth could verbalize it.
He lurched. The bed frame rocked. He had to look away for a moment. This mating thing was powerful. And pretty darn nice.
“Why?” she finally asked.
“Somebody said something about Len’s condition. He’s not a full vampire. That means he’s half...uh...human still? Yes?”
“You heard that?”
“Yep. And more. Let’s add that to the discussion list, too. Right now, we have a mission. We’re returning to the Ramsay Mansion. Or what’s left of it.”
“That’s a bad idea.”
“Tell it to the ghost.”
“What ghost?”
“The one who keeps handing out hatchets like candy at Halloween.”
“A ghost gave you that?”
�
��Yep.”
“I don’t have ghosts here.”
“You do now.”
“What? How?”
“Tess. Sweetheart. I’m a paranormal researcher for a reason. I used to rock climb. Cliff faces, mostly. I didn’t use much gear. Because I was young, stupid, and bullet-proof back then. And one day, I was climbing. It was rainy. Foggy. Really cool. The views were extraordinary. Things were going fine. And then it happened. I was pulling myself onto a ledge, when the edge gave. Just as I plunged backward, there was my Grandpa – I mean his ghost. He’d died when I was young, but I recognized him. My grandfather grabbed my arms and pulled me to safety. And then he vanished. I was in shock or something. I didn’t even have time to thank him. The climber with me got a picture, though. Just one. I have it in several sizes. Grandpa is invisible. I look like I’m levitating in the mist. Nobody can debunk it, although they’ve tried. That’s how I know. Ghosts are real. I’ve spent all kinds of time trying to reconnect and find out more. Vampirism may be a decided bonus with that. I may be in demand.”
“Your presence will bring ghosts?”
“Don’t know. Maybe. I’m putting that idea on the back burner for the moment. We’re got bigger problems. How soon can we get to the Ramsay place?”
“That depends on how we travel.”
“Why don’t we just fly again?”
“It’s not flying. We just move so rapidly, it appears that way.”
“Fair enough. I’m in. Whatever you call it. Do I need instruction? Or is it instinctive?”
“Cam.”
He grinned. “Come on, Tessa, Queen of the Dark. I’m working with what I’ve got here. I’ll even wear vivid-colored clothing. Now, will you get dressed and help me?”
“Do we really have to go back there?”
“Yep.”
“What if something happens...and I lose you?”
He smiled. She didn’t return it. “Stop me if I’m wrong, okay? You’re a vampire. That’s a fact I can’t deny. I’m a vampire, too. Another fact that’s pretty much indisputable. So. Vampires are said to be immortal. That could be conjectural. To test it, I just cut myself. The wound healed right before my eyes. That has to mean we are immortal. Am I right, so far?”
“We can still be destroyed. With the right weapons.”
“Okay. I already know about the debilitating effects of sunlight. I’m going to guess crucifixes have an effect, too. But it takes a wooden stake or a crossbow that fires the equivalent to kill us, right? And ghosts are not corporal. Even if they had all of that, they can’t use it.”
“They had an ax.”
“So?”
“Beheading destroys a vampire, too, Cam.”
“It does?”
She nodded.
Cameron looked at the hatchet in his hands with a sense of foreboding. He did his best to hide it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Now, that is a right cool...uh...jumper.”
“That sounds facetious.”
“Well, I’m not entirely sure what else to call it.”
Cam looked sidelong at Len. The guy was a chatterbox. It made the wait a little less unbearable, but he wasn’t letting Len know. He had to recuperate a bit, too. Tessa hadn’t been entirely accurate. Or he needed training. It had taken three hours to reach the Ramsay property. Moving that quickly took skill. A lot of effort. Or he needed training. He felt like he’d run most of the way. “You want to keep it down a little?” he finally replied.
“Where’s the rest of the suit? Like...your jacket?” Len used a softer tone with his query.
Cam grinned. “You don’t want to see the jacket. It was cinched at the waist, had shoulder pads, and sported knee-length tails down the back.”
“Was it in ruby-shaded material, too?”
“Yep.”
“Nice. Especially with your plum-colored shirt. Is that real silk?”
“Probably. Just like the dress my Tessa is wearing right now. And thanks for bringing that up. I am trying to concentrate here.”
“Sorry. So...what color tie went with this get-up?”
“Bright white. Almost silver.”
“And you left it behind?”
“No reason to point out where to behead me, is there?”
“Oh. Good point. Besides, it might really make you look like an actor in a gangster movie. From the late 30’s.”
“I’m in dark colors. Hard to spot in the dark. And this is a zoot suit. Okay?”
“Is that what you call it?”
“That’s what everyone calls it. This was the first thing I grabbed. I think I have more of them. I can probably outfit you, too. We can check when we get back.”
“Gee. Thanks. But, no thanks.”
“Everyone’s a critic nowadays.”
“My apologies, Doc. It’s a great suit. And it fits you. Truly.”
If Len wasn’t chortling, he might have been believable.
“You know, it’s hard to believe you know fashion from an all-you-can-eat buffet, Len.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Oh...it might have to do with your dime-store denims and a bargain t-shirt with some boy band silkscreened on the front.”
“I never wear my good stuff to one of these things. My clothes usually get destroyed. Burnt. Shredded. Stained. Holes blown through it. You know...ruined.”
“Really? What a decided bonus.”
Len snorted. “Are you saying you don’t like your zoot suit?”
“Oh. Never. Within hearing distance of my mate, anyway.”
Len flashed him a grin. Cam matched it. His fangs were fully evident. He watched Len glance down at them and then back. His grin faded. He cleared his throat.
“I think you could get two more pairs of trousers out of those, you know. Talk about pleating. No wonder you’re wearing suspenders. Looks like they’ll fall off.”
“They’re roomy. Okay? And look. You don’t even notice my new accessory.” Cam lifted the hatchet hanging by a leather thong from a belt loop.
“That’s one good thing. And I have to admit. I really like the shoes. What are those called again?”
“These are classic wingtips. Exactly my size. Twelve. What can I say? The woman can shop, and—hush! Looks like we made it in time.”
“For what?”
“To stop an entity from relocating. See?”
“Where?”
Len was instantly alert. Focused. And sending out stronger hints of something that made Cam’s teeth vibrate and his mouth water. Len’s scent came in waves. Cresting. Dimming. Coming again. Pulsed into prominence by Len’s heart rate. He suspected he was reacting to Len’s blood. Cameron was leery of delving into it. He’d rather trade insults over attire.
“I don’t see anything.”
“Just watch.”
Most of the Ramsay Mansion had collapsed into the cellar, making a large charred spot amidst the overgrowth. The site was delineated by four chimneys. They’d been three stories tall at one point. Now, all of them were warped and crumpled over like broken-down spines. They were potent reminders of aged elegance, silhouetted against a night sky. They’d probably been brick. Now, they appeared vitrified...glass-like. That only happened with extreme heat. The kind of temperatures that could obliterate all kinds of inanimate objects, as well as cremate human remains.
This must have been a major event. An explosion of this magnitude should have brought out all kinds of emergency personnel. There would be evidence of that somewhere. The grounds disturbed. Visible tire tracks from fire trucks and other vehicles. Arson investigation tags. Some crime scene tape.
Something.
That 4-D Team Tessa mentioned appeared to be exceptionally good at their job. It wasn’t even possible to tell when the destruction had happened. Nothing was smoldering, and the rest of the property looked completely unchanged. Unkempt. Undisturbed. Just as it had been two nights ago.
Cameron had done a site check when they’d first arrived. There was
n’t much to see then, either. The carriage house and other outbuildings had been flattened, probably by the explosion. Most were piles of kindling-sized sticks. His van and the BPRG vehicle had been reduced to indecipherable lumps in the gravel driveway. The graveyard had taken some of the explosive force, as well. Two grave markers had been knocked down and one of the aboveground crypts toppled. Cam had put it back upright. By himself. He wasn’t showing off. He was testing his strength.
That’s where he’d placed the women. Despite their complaints. Tessa and Tassanee were both atop the crypt. Watching events from there. He’d told them they were backup. He was actually making certain his mind would be clear. Focused. He was preparing to take on an evil entity. The last thing he needed was two more vampires to account for. He’d have done the same with Len except somebody had to wield a crucifix if Cam’s method didn’t work.
Len’s comment got more inaccurate by the moment. There was definitely something to see. A hint of gray matter or fog started swirling the ashes at the center of the destroyed mansion. It gained volume and mass as Cam watched. Grew larger. Broader. It picked up more ash. Used it to create a whirlpool of gray-toned substance. There was a distinctly acrid smell. Rank. The thing oozed evil. Malevolence. His skin rippled with shivers.
“Whoa.” Len whistled after the word.
And then Cam saw him. A man materialized as the ghost manifested. He was centered in the ash cloud, spinning in place so he could appear larger. The ghost was short. Obese. And hard to take seriously. Cam stood, grabbed Len’s arm to haul him along, and started walking closer.
“What the hell are we doing?” Len whispered at his side.
“Hello, Louis.”
Cam loudly called the greeting. The ghost stopped spinning, turned toward the two men, and grimaced. The ash cloud began to dissipate, looking like chunks of sleet as it fell back to the ground.
“You are Louis, aren’t you?” Cam continued.
“Who are you?”
“Cameron Preston.”
“Who?”
“Let’s make it simple, okay? I’m your worst nightmare, Louis. I’m a ghost hunter. Who also. Just happens. To be a vampire.” He split the sentence for emphasis.