In the Dark

by PG Forte

  “All right,” Marc growled as he reined in his temper. “I believe you. Now, tell me the rest. What’s the story with him, and how do I find him?”

  Elise shook her head, her face turning softly sorrowful. “It’s a sad story, really. His sire was another of my sire’s spawn. Audrey. She and I were good friends once, almost like sisters. She should have known better, I suppose, but it was the sixties and everyone’s social mores had gone on holiday, or so it seemed at the time. She fell in love with Vincent when he was still human. He was very good-looking. Spiritual. Intense. Very Jim Morrison—into any experience that might expand his mind—but not quite so dark. She used to call him Starshine.

  “When he begged her to turn him, she didn’t hesitate. Of course, she had no right to do any such thing. I don’t know how things work in your nest, but in ours, that kind of thing just isn’t done. She had no choice but to hide his existence from our sire. As I said, it’s a big city, so she figured he could just…blend in, somehow. That no one would ever know. He wasn’t scarred up at the time, so it might have been okay. It was for a while. Of course, he still had to feed, and that wasn’t always so easy for him. He had to do most of his hunting out on the streets or in the parks and he couldn’t really socialize with the rest of our nest-mates. Usually, one or the other of us went with him when he hunted, but sometimes we couldn’t. One night, he had the bad luck to wander into another vampire’s territory, a very vicious, very powerful vampire. So powerful he could do whatever he wanted, without fear of reprisal, or repercussion. Vicious enough…well, to do what he did, which was to rip up Vincent’s pretty face and all for the sake of some girl.”

  Marc frowned. “Wait a minute. You’re saying he got scarred like that after he was turned? How? That’s not possible.”

  Elise’s mouth tightened. Her eyes flashed angrily. “It’s not? Well, now, sugar, I just don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t used to believe it either. I’d heard stories of such things before, of vampires so scary-powerful even other vampires feared to cross them, but until Vincent’s little misadventure I’d always thought they were a myth. He’s still the only one I’ve ever known to run afoul of one, but, frankly, I’m surprised that you’d be skeptical. If the ‘how’ is really that important to you, and you’re feeling very brave when you do meet up with Conrad again, I suggest you ask him. He’s the one who’d know, I’d imagine, seeing as he’s the vampire who did it.”

  “Conrad?” Marc stared at her. It wasn’t possible. He wanted to call her a liar, but he couldn’t. Images of Damian, the scars on his shoulder, the anger in his eyes, filled his head.

  Elise nodded. “Yes. And that, in case you’re wondering, would be the source of the bad blood between our nests. Conrad had Vincent sent back to my sire, assuming he belonged to him, with the message we were no longer welcome on his turf. His right, I suppose, but I do know a lot of people felt hard done by the fact we were all being tarred with the same feather. Conrad’s parties were always a sure bet for a snack, we’d always been welcome there before and this was the first time there’d ever been any real trouble. It didn’t seem terribly fair, but Vincent had had the very bad luck to attempt to hit on one of Conrad’s special pets. I guess some people just don’t like to share their toys, you know what I mean?”

  “What happened after that?” Marc asked, trying not to get distracted by the timing, trying not to wonder too much about the identity of Conrad’s “special pet”, trying not to get angry, all over again, at the possibility that Vincent might have attacked both his sister and his mother. Hell, if he were Conrad, he’d have wanted to bite his face off, too.

  “Oh, lordy, all hell broke loose, that’s what happened. Audrey was raked over the coals but good. If anyone should be scarred by the treatment they received, it’s her. Not that I didn’t understand the need for a reprimand. Order must be maintained in some fashion. She’d flouted the rules, disregarded protocol, endangered our secrecy, damaged the nest’s reputation and alienated the most powerful vampire in the region. But, even so, the treatment she received was more than a bit on the harsh side. As part of her punishment, our sire ordered her to destroy Vincent—personally. I guess she just couldn’t do it, but she faked it somehow and, as far as I can tell, kept him locked up for the better part of forty years. How she managed either of those tricks—faking his death and keeping him fed all that time—I don’t even want to guess. Once old Rupert bought the farm, however, she must have figured it was safe to let Vincent back out. She probably wanted someone she could trust watching her back, too, ’cause, like I said, things have been a little tense around the old nest lately and she is one of the ambitious ones. Can’t say I blame her too much for that, though. If I’d been through what she has, I wouldn’t be willing to be topped by anyone else either.”

  “I see.” Marc nodded grimly. Elise had been right. Now that he’d heard the story, he did feel sorry for Vincent—and for his sire, as well—but that changed nothing.. His need for vengeance was as strong as ever. He studied the portrait a little while longer, taking in the languid, sated look in the young man’s eyes. Anger churned suddenly in his stomach. “You slept with him, didn’t you?”

  Elise blinked in surprise at the question. An amused smile curved her lips. “Why, yes, sugar, as it happens, I did. Shocking of me, I know, but you’re not my first.”

  Marc felt himself blush. “That’s not why I’m asking.” Wasn’t it, really? The urge was there, all right, the need to possess her, to stake his claim, to keep her all to himself. It was faint, as yet, but unmistakable and it left him horrified. “How do I know you don’t still have feelings for him?” he asked, doing his best to ignore his own feelings. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth about this guy? You could be protecting him.”

  Elise’s face grew dark. “Clearly, I’m not protecting him, am I? Otherwise, I wouldn’t have told you any of this. Do I still feel sorry for him? Yes, Marc, I do. He didn’t deserve what Conrad did to him. Audrey didn’t deserve what happened to her, either. But, if Vincent attacked your sister the other night simply because he scented her and knew she belonged to Conrad, then I’m very much afraid those forty years have driven him over the edge. He could be a danger to us all now, if that’s the case. He could start an all-out war between our nests and, frankly, given the mess we’re all in right now, we don’t need any more enemies. Besides,” She fixed him with a level gaze. “I’m not exactly a fool, you know. You’ve got connections that could be useful to me and I figure if I do you a favor now, maybe someday you’ll do one for me.”

  Marc nodded. “You got it. Anything you ever need, you let me know. Just tell me where I can find him.”

  “There’s an old bootlegger’s cave out near Ocean Beach, where the park meets the water. If you go out there looking for him…well, you probably won’t want to go alone. You may be stronger than he is, but he’s got crazy on his side, plus he’s used to the place. Take someone you can trust, if there is such a thing. The entrance to the cave is pretty well hidden, which it would have had to be, you know? Hardly anybody knows about it or remembers it anymore—other than those of us who’ve been around for a while. I’d draw you a map, but I’d rather not. I don’t want there to be any physical evidence linking me to this. If anyone asks, you did not hear any of this from me. If Audrey finds out I told you about it…well, I don’t even want to think about that. But, anyway, that’s where she’s kept him all these years, so it’s likely he’s still holed up in the vicinity. Gotta hand it to the sister. It was sure enough the last place anyone would ever think to look for him. Can you imagine it, though? Caged up, all on his own, for forty years with nothing but salt air to breathe? No wonder the boy’s gone mad. It probably would have been kinder if she had killed him.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Marc said as he walked back over to where she stood, trying hard not to imagine what it must have been like. “And, now, I just have one last question for you.”

  Elise looked faintly
surprised. “What more do you want to know? I’ve already told you every useful thing I can think of.”

  “You haven’t told me this. When can I see you again?”

  At that, she smiled. “Well, sugar, you know where to find me, don’t you? Now that you’ve gotten what you came for, you’re not gonna make a stranger of yourself, I hope?”

  “Not a chance,” he said as he bent his head to kiss her. “I plan on our getting even better acquainted.”

  “Where have you been?” Julie demanded, practically pouncing on Marc the minute he walked through the door. “Where the hell have you been?”

  Marc glanced at his sister tiredly. “Back off, Jules. I’ve had a long night.” A long night and nothing to eat for two days. Not a hugely long time, but he was feeling it. It fueled his guilt, his impatience, his need to find Conrad before the sun rose again or another night passed. Agony. He has to be in agony. It was the same thought he’d had, repeatedly, since he’d first learned of Conrad’s possible predicament, but tonight, for some reason, just thinking of Conrad made his teeth itch—and not with any kind of hunger he recognized.

  “A long night?” Julie smacked him on the shoulder. “You’ve had a long night? Is that really all you have to say? Well, you know what? I’ve had a long night too, Marc. And a long day. I couldn’t sleep I’ve been so worried about you.”

  Marc snarled impatiently. “I said, back off! And where the fuck is Damian? I need to talk to him. Now.”

  “He is right here, chavalo,” a quiet voice purred from one of the doorways. “And not yet deaf.”

  Surprised, Marc spun around to face him. Damian’s eyes narrowed as he studied Marc’s face. His mouth tightened. He did not look pleased. “Well, hijo mio? May I assume you had good hunting?”

  Marc nodded. “I need a car. Do we have one?”

  “A car?” Julie squeaked. “Are you kidding? You just got back. Where are you going now?”

  “He is going nowhere, chica,” Damian answered, his voice even quieter than before. “And neither are you. I think it will be best if you both stay here. Give me the address, Marc. I’ll go.”

  “Like hell you will.” Marc shook his head. Vampires I thought were loyal to each other unto death…threatening to rip each other’s heads off. Elise’s words repeated in his mind. He couldn’t trust Damian to go after Conrad alone. Who knew what he might decide he had to do to him? Wasn’t it he who said that if any of them found Conrad in a weakened condition they might find it impossible not to kill him? Why should he be an exception to that rule? Why should any of them be? In fact, given the way he’d been feeling these past few days…

  No. It has to be me. I have to be the one to get to him. Now. Tonight. It must be tonight.

  Damian’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Marcus, I do not have time to waste on this foolishness. Tell me where I must go. Now, niño.”

  “Okay, what’s going on here?” Julie’s gaze shifted from one to the other of them. “Why are you two acting this way? Are you saying you found him, Marc? What are we waiting for?”

  Marc ignored her. “All right,” he said nodding at Damian. “We’ll both go then. Together.”

  “Both?” Julie smacked his arm again. “Screw that noise. Don’t even think about leaving me out of this. I’m going too.”

  Marc frowned at her. His sister might well be the only person he could trust, and perhaps that’s what Elise had been suggesting—that he take Julie with him—but Julie was also the last person he wanted to have tagging along tonight. Not when they were going after Vincent. “Oh, no, you’re not,” he told her, confident Damian would at least back him up on that. “Forget it, Jules. You’re gonna stay right where you are.”

  “No,” Damian corrected, upsetting that idea. “She isn’t either. She’s coming with us.”

  “What?” Marc stared at him in surprise. “Why?”

  Damian smiled serenely back at him. “Because I said so, Marc. Do I need a better reason? Very well, then let’s just say it’s like I told Armand, the night you arrived here. I could never bear to break up such a pretty set. Now, come, enough of this standing around talking—we’ll be waking up the entire household, if we’re not careful. They’ll all want to join us too, and I do so wish to be exclusive tonight. Let’s go down to the kitchen and pack up some food for the road, shall we?”

  “Food?” Now it was Julie who looked surprised. “Are you kidding? What do we need food for? Let’s just go!”

  “Why not food, chica?” Damian asked, still smiling, even though his eyes glittered with the unspoken, but unmistakable, warning they should both keep their mouths shut and do as they were told. “It’s a beautiful night for a drive, is it not? Perhaps we’ll decide to stop somewhere along the way and have a picnic.”

  As the lights in the garage flickered on, Julie’s eyes widened. “Wow,” she murmured, glancing at the gleaming row of cars, new and old, lined up side by side. “Look at all these cars. This is amazing.”

  “Which one are we taking?” Marc asked, brushing his hands together to rid them of the dust they’d acquired from pushing the doors open.

  Damian nodded toward a sleek black sedan. “That one, I think,” he answered as he headed for the glass-fronted cabinet on the wall where the keys were kept.

  “Pretty.” Julie eyed the car with interest. “What is it?”

  “That’s a Jaguar Mark X,” said a voice behind her. Brennan. “1963. Isn’t that right, sir?”

  Damian nodded affirmatively. “Yes, I believe it is.”

  “Brennan.” For a moment, as she looked him over, Julie forgot about the worry and the fear that had haunted her these past twenty-four hours and kept her sleepless and starving. A smile warmed her face. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” For a moment, his smile matched hers, but then his gaze slid past her and he frowned. “Uh, I don’t think you want to be putting that in there sir,” Brennan cautioned, looking faintly alarmed as he pointed at the gas can Damian was holding. “That can’s full.”

  “Thank you, Brennan. I know.” Damian stowed the full can in the trunk, then reached for the stack of cargo blankets Marc was holding for him. Those went in the trunk as well, along with a length of rope and half a dozen flares. “Grab some of those tire chains, too, while you’re at it,” he told Marc. “And a bolt cutter. Just in case.”

  “Hey.” Julie held up the small, red and white cooler she’d carried from the kitchen. “Where do you want this?”

  “Backseat,” Damian answered shortly.

  “Where are you all going?” Brennan inquired as he followed her over to the car.

  “Picnic.” Turning, she smiled teasingly at him. “Wanna come with?”

  Brennan gazed doubtfully toward the trunk, which Marc and Damian were still loading. He shook his head. “I think I’m gonna have to pass.”

  “Julie,” Damian growled in warning as he slammed the Jaguar’s trunk shut. He glared at her. “Knock it off.”

  “Sorry.” Julie smiled at Brennan. “I was just kidding. You can’t come anyway. It’s kind of a family outing.” She put the cooler in the backseat and then turned, her gaze falling on a small red sports car parked alongside the Jaguar. “Hey, D, wouldn’t that be faster?” she asked. “How come we’re not taking that one?”

  “Backseat?” Marc replied, shooting her a look rife with meaning, just as Brennan was saying, “Actually the Mark X’s a pretty fast…” His voice trailed off. His expression turned startled as he glanced at Marc. “Huh?”

  “Oh, right. Duh.” Julie rolled her eyes. They’d need room for Conrad, wouldn’t they? The sports car’s miniscule backseat would be pitifully crammed with all of them. “That would be way too small for us, wouldn’t it? What was I thinking?”

  Damian smacked her lightly on the head as he passed her. “Good question, chica. I’m wondering that myself.” He slid behind the wheel and the engine purred to life. Damian stuck his head out the window. “Marc, Julie, get in the car. Brennan, you’ll see to it the gara
ge is locked after we leave, won’t you?”

  “Uh, yes, sir,” Brennan responded, flashing a somewhat worried glance at Julie as she climbed into the Jaguar’s backseat.

  She smiled back at him. “See you later?”

  “Sure thing.” He shrugged. “Have a good trip.”

  “Well, Julie, you certainly have made a conquest with that one, haven’t you?” Damian asked, once they’d gotten on the road. His eyes met hers in the rear view mirror; tender and just a little sad.

  Reclining comfortably on the leather upholstery, Julie smiled happily. “He’s nice, isn’t he? I like him.”

  Marc snorted. “Yeah, we could tell.”

  Ignoring her brother, Julie leaned forward to ask, “What do you know about him anyway, Damian?”

  “Very little, I’m afraid. He hasn’t been with us that long, maybe six months.”

  “I think he’s being overused,” Julie said. “Can’t we do anything about that?”

  “Probably. When we get Conrad back, perhaps I’ll suggest putting him off limits for a while.”

  “Off limits?” Julie gazed at Damian in dismay. “You don’t mean completely, do you?”

  Damian’s eyes met hers in the mirror again. “I’m sure Conrad will understand if you want to keep him for yourself. As long as Brennan raises no objection and you don’t overwork him yourself, I’m sure everything will work out fine.”

  “Do you two really have to talk about this right now?” Marc snapped suddenly. ”You know I’m not comfortable with the idea of keeping people. They’re not pets.”

  Julie leaned back in her seat and glared at Marc. What was up with him? Ever since they arrived here he’d been surly, snappish and short-tempered, and his mood seemed to get worse with every passing day. She didn’t like it.

  Damian shot Marc an appraising glance. “What would you prefer we talk about, chico? The weather?”