by Margaret Carter, Crystal Green, Erica Orloff, Patricia Rosemor
As did Cadet, who was tucked into the small of my back.
For a moment, I enjoyed the closeness of my cats and refused to think dark thoughts. But dark thoughts battered my mind until I decided I had to face them.
I looked over at the clock and groaned. I could have slept another hour before reporting in to work. Then my gaze lit on the stack of books that Silke had loaned me.
Silke…where the heck was she?
I concentrated, but I didn’t sense her.
And my trying to sense her made me think of what Jake had said about sensing the master vampire.
Pure logic would say that if my sensing Silke was real, then Jake’s sensing vampires could be real. If there was such a thing as a real, scary-flick-type vampire.
What if…?
I couldn’t help myself. I disturbed the cats while reaching for Vampyres among Us and turned on the bedside lamp. I thumbed through the book. When I got to the how-to-destroy-a-vampire section, I couldn’t help myself. I stopped and stared at the first lines of the chapter for what seemed like forever.
Vampyres must be destroyed rather than killed, because they are already dead. A stake through the heart is rather like pinning a live butterfly to a board. The stake holds it still, but once removed, the undead walks again.
I almost closed the book then, but I didn’t. Something made me continue to read about what the author described as the final death: cutting out or otherwise destroying the heart, dismemberment—severing heads from the body being the only real way to assure destruction here—acid or holy-water baths, fire or exposure to the sun.
“This is some sick stuff,” I told the cats.
Closing the book, I patted them both, then got up and hit the shower. I scrubbed every trace of makeup from my skin that I hadn’t gotten the night before, every hint of bloodred color from my hair.
What I couldn’t wash away were my thoughts. What Jake had told me. He’d first said his mother had burned to death. Last night he’d said she’d given up the life she’d hated by walking out into the sun.
According to Silke’s reference manual, a vampire would have had a slow, agonizing death as her skin set on fire and she self-combusted.
“No…no…no…!”
I couldn’t go there. I was a rational person.
And yet there was Silke, and my deepest, darkest secret. Mom knew about our connection, sort of, but she didn’t know how strong it really was. Hell, I didn’t want to know, even now.
If I had to face what I was, then I had to face what else might exist out there.
And I just wasn’t ready.
How could I believe in any of this vampire stuff? How could I believe in Jake?
But even as I thought it, all that I’d absorbed over the past several days nagged at me, and I wondered if I really could believe in my black-and-white world anymore.
So as I dried my hair and dressed for work in a conservative navy pantsuit, white shirt and leather ankle boots, I tried to get it together. I had to face Norelli and Walker this morning. I would have to listen to their crude comments and cracks about the blonde coming on to me.
Before that happened, I had to decide how I would respond. As Mom would say, if you wanted to get along in life, there was just some crap you had to shovel in order to survive.
I slipped into a shoulder holster and checked my piece before securing it. I stared at the gun—a weapon of death, but not for the undead, not according to Vampyres among Us.
Before leaving for work, I tried to contact Silke the boring, normal way, but her machine came on, announcing that she wasn’t available. I left a message for her to get in touch with me using any means possible—yeah, even the mind-meld pathway that I normally avoided—as soon as she heard this.
Mom was in the Area 4 office waiting for me when I walked in the door a half hour later.
Norelli and Walker were there, too. As I set the department spy equipment I needed to return on my desk for the moment, I could tell the detective tag team wanted to torture me with the details of last night’s operation, but they remained strangely silent.
A reason for me to smile—Mom must intimidate them!
“Commander,” I said formally, “what brings you here?”
“I wanted the details of last night’s undercover operation in person,” she said, giving me a hard stare. “Why don’t we get a cup of coffee and you can fill me in.”
I led the way to an empty interrogation room we sometimes used for breaks. Somehow I figured she’d already heard what had gone down the night before. What would Mom think if I tried talking out the vampire stuff with her? If I told her about Jake’s claims? About my research?
I poured two cups of coffee and handed her one and realized Mom wasn’t here about the job when she said, “It’s Silke.”
The back of my neck prickled. “Do you by any chance know where she is?” I was hoping that she was holed up at Mom’s, hence the worry on her part.
“Then you don’t, either?”
My heart began to thud for real. “I have her keys. If I don’t get her by the time I leave here, I’ll swing by and see what’s what.”
“How soon?”
I wanted to go now, but I couldn’t see how I could justify leaving before I tied up last night’s loose ends. “As soon as I write up the report, okay?”
“Of course. I’m sure I’m worried for nothing. I just can’t get a hold of her on her cell phone or at home, and that’s odd for Silke not to return a call as soon as possible.”
I tried to soothe Mom by telling her Silke was fine, but I found myself calling Silke’s number several times while I wrote the report from last night. Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork. Cops sometimes drowned in it. When Norelli and Walker dug into me about Desiree and the blonde, I didn’t even have the heart or the focus to give them a hard time back.
They kept trying, though.
“I can’t wait to see what you have in store for us tonight,” Norelli said.
“Do you think you can disguise me as one of those Goths who hang out in the bar?” Walker asked. “Then I could be a witness to whatever goes down.”
I gave his robin’s-egg-blue suit jacket a significant look. “You’d be willing to shed your pretty clothes for basic black-and-blue?”
“They get rough, do they?” Walker asked. “Other than the bleeding thing, right? Sounding interesting.”
I didn’t think he meant it. Something told me he was trying to lighten the mood. In an odd way, I got the feeling my partners had softened toward me just a little.
At least I wasn’t tense about them when I left the office after turning in the equipment and my report. But I was stressed as hell about Silke, wondering why she’d chosen now to do a disappearing act. If she’d chosen to do so at all. I remembered her telling me that “they” could find her if they wanted….
As I drove to her place, I used my cell to check my messages, both phones. Nothing. Maybe she was simply acting out. She’d come to me for help and I had pushed her out of the case. Maybe together, we could make sense of what was going on.
Only Silke was gone.
Her apartment was a mess. Not the kind when there’d been foul play, but the Silke kind. Stuff all over. Including her Goth makeup. And her closet seemed torn apart, as if she’d been looking for something specific.
My gaze lit on the books she’d been reading. One had been left open. I glanced inside and saw something about creating a simple spell to control the elements. Well, if she’d been messing with Mother Nature, I didn’t know about it. We had a sunny summer day going for us.
So why was I so nervous about what she was up to?
I feared she’d decided to come to the party to play I Spy for herself.
“Silke, where are you? I would do anything to get one of those messages that make me so cranky.”
But of course the internal airwaves were silent. And I was beginning to feel really, really sick inside. If something had happened to her, I knew I h
ad only myself to blame.
When had I disconnected with Silke?
When had I stop listening to that inner voice that told me when she was in trouble?
When had refusing to be open become part of my nature?
I thought about it and realized this went all the way back to my roughing up Silke’s wanna-be boyfriend. I’d been wrong and wouldn’t admit it then. And now, after all these years, I simply didn’t know how to be wrong anymore. That’s where the attitude came from—the one Silke and Mom and Al had all noted. Rather than accept failure and learn from it, I’d rejected the possibility of failing. Just as I’d rejected the gift Silke and I shared. In a way, I’d rejected her, the other half of myself.
My eyes filled with tears.
My life was looming before me like one big toilet bowl. I had no idea if I could actually resolve this case and put my ghosts to rest. Mom and I had an uneasy truce, but I didn’t know how long that would last. I’d been keeping everyone at bay. And now I feared something horrible had happened to my twin.
Losing Silke wasn’t an option.
I climbed onto her open sofa bed and hugged the pillow still sweet with her scent. Closing my eyes, I inhaled slowly.
Silke, where are you?
No response.
I concentrated on seeing her, not Goth Silke, but my twin Silke, my mirror image.
I know something’s wrong. Help me to help you.
Nothing.
Years ago, we’d taken yoga together. We’d learned to meditate. Well, I’d learned the theory anyway. The practice kind of drove me nuts. But I remembered the mantra. I lay back on the bed, eyes still closed, and relaxed my body. Then relaxed my mind.
For the first time since we were adolescents, I opened myself to what I feared most.
My breath came slow and deep as I opened the door to my subconscious. Over and over, I called to Silke as I felt myself drifting…searching…aware.
Suddenly I lay in a bed, not here, but someplace tomblike with flickers of light…torches whose flames licked the dark. I couldn’t move; my wrists and feet felt secured.
Silke, is that you?
Shell…?
I almost cried when I felt her.
Are you all right?
Afraid…
The word drifted through my mind. I didn’t think she actually said it, but I felt it like a cold fist closing around my heart. The darkness crowded in on me, and I could hardly breathe. I almost panicked out of my altered state. Somehow, I calmed myself and stayed there.
My mind was whirling. Hard to focus. Harder to form actual words. Drugged?
Silke, did they drug you?
I felt her assent rather than heard it. And then I felt her, as if she were inside me.
We were confused, disconnected from everyone but us.
We were one.
Then suddenly no Silke. I shot straight up with my heart pounding like mad.
“Silke…where did you go?”
I couldn’t complete the unthinkable.
I knew the murderer had her. I also knew she had one chance of getting out alive.
Me!
Chapter 17
Willing to do anything to get Silke back safe, I didn’t run off half-cocked.
I tried Norelli. I would take any help I could get, assuming I could get him to believe me. But Norelli’s voice mail answered; he must have gone out on another case.
“Norelli, this has to do with the murders. My sister’s been snatched and I’m after her. You get this before you hear from me again, call me on my cell.”
I left the same message for Walker.
Even though it took more precious time than I wanted to lose, I prepared properly for battle. Under my suit jacket, I carried not only my gun and holster, but also attached to my belt were handcuffs, a sheathed knife, a tactical light and telescoping steel baton, a stun gun and a canister of Mace. I’d also stuffed a half-dozen throwing stars that I’d bought in Chinatown in my breast pocket.
The problem was, what if Jake had been right and a standard weapon wouldn’t work on the killer?
I still didn’t believe in vampires, but I wasn’t going to let anything get by me, so as I set out, I stopped at the nearest Catholic church and then the local hardware store for additional “weapons” just in case. No point in taking any chances.
Nothing—and I mean nothing—was going to let me lose Silke.
Armed and dangerous, I was driving straight for Desiree’s mansion before deciding that perhaps I should have alerted Jake. I’d discredited his vampire spiel, but now I wasn’t so certain about anything. I had to admit that no matter how it played out, I would feel better with backup, and I’d never had better than Jake. Besides which, I couldn’t do what I might have to do if I made this official.
Calling Mom was out of the question, too. I didn’t want to freak her out, at least not until I figured out what was what.
I took out my cell phone and keyed in Jake’s number. No Jake, though. Just voice mail.
“It’s me. Silke’s gone. I think she’s in danger. I’m going to get her back. I’m starting at Desiree’s.” About to hang up, I quickly added, “I would feel better with you watching my back.”
But unfortunately, it looked as if I was on my own.
I was acting all brave and macho here, but part of me knew I could be killed. And to my surprise, I couldn’t stand the thought of dying without ever seeing Jake again.
By the time I turned down Desiree’s street, the afternoon shadows had grown long, but it was still full daylight. Jake had said he was sun sensitive, but I’d never seen him after dawn.
And maybe now I never would.
I left the duffel bag with its oversized weapon in the trunk of the car and stared up at the gray-stone building that looked shuttered and deserted.
Desiree was in there, I was certain…but what about Silke?
Now that I’d opened the floodgates, radio SILKE was sending out signals again, though they were sporadic and frightening. I got the definite idea that she believed she was in the hands of a real vampire.
All kinds of scenarios played through my head. Like Silke looking for me at the mansion. What if Desiree had been in the throes of her blood lust when Silke had met up with her?
What if the bar owner had figured out there were two of us and had decided that was one too many to make her feel safe? A cold hand wrapped around my heart as I took the front steps two at a time.
Forcing a woman to do something she didn’t want to do was Hung Chung territory. Or Elvin Mowry. But I couldn’t discount Desiree, not until I checked her place for myself to see how deep she was into the cult.
I’d had no reason to notice the night before, but Desiree didn’t have a doorbell. Instead, I was met by a big brass knocker—a winged gargoyle that seemed to stare at me hungrily as I waited for someone to answer.
No one did.
I tried the handle. Locked. Too bad. I was going in and without a frickin’ search warrant. Nothing would stop me, not even if I had to kick down the door. Before putting my foot in jeopardy, however, I circled the building and looked up to see if that window along the back stairs was still cracked. It was. No ladders lying conveniently around. But there was a downspout that ran along the back of the building from the gutter on the roof straight into the ground.
Hoping that it would hold my weight, I tested it. Though old and loaded with peeling paint, the galvanized metal seemed sturdy enough. I reached high and hooked a hand in one of the metal hangers that attached the downspout to the building. I tugged. It didn’t budge, so I hung on to it with both hands and slapped both feet against the wall tight to either side of the drain. My climb from hanger to hanger a half floor up wasn’t pretty or smooth, but I managed it.
I paused to get my bearings, then reached out and grasped the sill of the open window. I slid my hand inside to find a better grip. Transferring the other hand over was a scary prospect, I was off balance, leaning way over sideways. And wh
en I unhooked my right foot from behind the pipe, my body swung fast and slapped against the wall with a thud.
What was another bruise or three?
I grabbed on to the sill hard and pulled myself up, listened a moment to make certain the coast was clear, then stuck my head through the opening and used my shoulders to inch the window up higher so I could drag my body through.
I landed on the stairs as gently as possible. I paused to catch my breath and concentrated hard to sense Silke’s presence. Nothing. Either she wasn’t close by or she was passed out again.
The house was silent, the upstairs as dark as it had been the night before. I crept up the half flight and down the hall, leaving the fleeting light from the window behind me. Shadows layered over shadows. I imagined I heard them breathing. The very house seemed to be gasping for breath.
But no, just me.
Sounds I was making magnified themselves through my head. My heartbeat grew more rapid as I approached Desiree’s chambers. The door creaked open to reveal the dressing room empty but alight with candles. The room beyond was as dark as a tomb.
Before I could get to the bedroom to see if Silke lay between the bloodred sheets, an angry voice whispered in my ear, “How dare you violate my property?”
I jumped and whirled and came face-to-face with Desiree herself, her beautiful face twisted into a grotesque mask of anger. Surreptitiously, or so I thought, I reached for a weapon. Lightning fast, Desiree had hold of my wrist, her grip so tight I thought she would snap it.
How could a woman so slight be so strong?
Even so, she didn’t give my wrist that sharp twist that would break the bones, so I tried to relax, to sound normal. “The question is, who are you? Are you simply a bar owner into perverted sex acts or is there more?”
“Silke?”
She released my wrist. The anger in her face faded to puzzlement. And worry, though undoubtedly that was for herself. Okay, so she didn’t have my twin tied to her bed and probably didn’t know where Silke was. Which didn’t exactly clear her of all wrongdoing.
“Silke disappeared last night,” I said. “I’m her sister, Detective Shelley Caldwell. I’ve been the one working the bar the last several days.”