Claimed by the Immortal (The Claiming)

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Claimed by the Immortal (The Claiming) Page 11

by Rachel Lee


  Silence, followed by “We can’t seem to wake her up completely. If anything changes, you’re going to have to bust into my office and get me and Damien. And you’re going to have to find and put up those blackout curtains for the outer office because it’s too late for us to do that.”

  When he disconnected, he looked only mildly irritated. “Like I have time to answer a million questions right now. Okay, I’m going to bed with Terri. She’s waiting for me. And you sleep here in my office. It’s totally blacked out, as you know. Once Chloe gets the blackout curtains up, the outer office will be safe, too. Then if anything happens...”

  “Something is already happening,” Damien said tautly. But they both knew that. Never in all his centuries had he damned the sleep of death as much as he did right then. Caro might need him desperately, but he was going to be virtually beyond reach. There was not one damned thing he could do about it.

  Cussing, as darkness began to grab him, he dropped to the floor, unable to resist his curse any longer.

  * * *

  Caro heard a lot of fussing. She reached toward it, desperate to escape a suffocating darkness that seemed to be squeezing her chest, trying to pull the very air from her body.

  She struggled toward the sounds, and gradually they dragged her from the depths of sleep, and she pushed herself up on one elbow. She had only the dimmest memory of how she had arrived here, but she knew where she was. Turning her head, she saw Chloe standing on a chair and pinning a black curtain around the room’s one barred window.

  “What’s going on?” she asked groggily.

  Chloe glanced over her shoulder. “You,” she said. “The guys were worried because they couldn’t wake you up, so I’m vampire-proofing the office in case we need to go shake them out of their coffins.”

  “Coffins? Really?”

  “Hardly. Vaults more like. I just like to call them coffins.”

  “They can wake up?”

  “Resurrect,” Chloe said as she drove another tack in the wall. “Please. It’s resurrection, according to Jude. They don’t sleep, they don’t dream. Gone, poof, like the dead.”

  “Oh.” Caro managed to sit all the way up and rub her eyes. “I feel hungover.”

  “Something got to you, all right. Jude has enough wards around this office that it’s possible whatever hit you may have been forced to withdraw.”

  She jumped down from the chair. “Are you awake enough to do something for me?”

  “I think so. Just don’t make it complicated.”

  Chloe flashed a grin. “I’m going to take a flashlight outside. I want you to come over here and check to make sure absolutely no light is getting past this curtain.”

  “In a minute. I think I can manage it in a minute.”

  “I made tea, but if coffee would be better I can make you some.”

  “Tea will do fine. Caffeine, right?”

  “Plenty. I like it strong and black.”

  When Chloe returned and gave her a hot mug of steaming black tea, Caro asked, “What happens if light gets through the curtain? Poof?”

  Chloe shook her head. “Not likely. But they’d get severe burns wherever the sun touches them.”

  “I don’t want to see that.”

  “Me either.”

  Chloe perched beside her on the couch. “You’re taking this whole vampire thing awfully well.”

  Caro rubbed her temple with her fingertips, trying to ease a dull ache. “Chloe, you’re talking to someone who saw a man levitated and impaled by nothing I could see. Who is being followed by something I can’t see. Who had a grandmother who claimed to be a wi—okay, a mage, and who taught me about things like this. Of course, I didn’t believe her. It had to hit me between the eyes like a two-by-four.”

  “Some things have to do that,” Chloe agreed. She sipped her own tea, then placed the mug on a small octagonal table in front of the couch. Curling up, she tucked her legs beneath her and studied Caro. “I figured it out pretty fast one night when Jude saved me from some guys who intended me no good. He swooped in like a superhero and saved the day. Of course, he’d get mad if he heard me say that. He doesn’t like me to make him sound extraordinary in any way.”

  “But you think he is? Apart from being a vampire?”

  “Let me put it this way, and you can laugh if you want, but I’m serious.” Her expression changed to reflect that. “People are always looking to movies and books to see a story about the battle between good and evil and the triumph of good.”

  Caro nodded. “There’s a lot of that.”

  “Well, the fact is, there is an ongoing battle between good and evil. Jude fights evil. He fights the kind of evil most people don’t even recognize exists. And for all I give him a hard time, I like being part of that. I really like it. So yeah, to me he’s a superhero.”

  “And Damien?”

  “He’s a trifle arrogant, but he’s part of the battle, too. I’m not sure what he does in Cologne, but he was one of the few who answered Jude’s call for help when we were fighting the rogues—did Damien tell you about that?”

  “A bit.”

  “A bit is all you need. There were dozens of them and only a handful of us. Damien only came for a brief visit to help Jude with a problem, but he’s stayed and is continuing to help with you.”

  Caro nodded, not sure how she felt about knowing that her problem was the reason he stayed. “How long have you worked for Jude?”

  “Six years. Long enough to know what kind of person he is. Well, what kind of vampire.” She gave a little giggle. “He’s willing to risk everything to protect others. Even permanent death. So yeah, I have a lot of respect for him. Few of us humans will ever know how much safety he provides in this city.”

  “I’m starting to get an inkling.”

  “But only an inkling. You protect the city from human threats, and that’s great. But Jude’s more of a supernatural cop. He protects us against the things we can’t see.”

  “Like the mystical murderer of an entire family.”

  “Like that,” Chloe agreed.

  “Does Pat Matthews know?”

  “She knows he handles stuff the police won’t. She does not know he’s a vampire.”

  Caro smiled wryly. “I don’t think she’d be comfortable knowing that. But she’s a lot more broad-minded than most I work with. Everyone was trying to shut me down about what I saw. She told me to shut up about it at work and get over here.”

  Chloe nodded. “That’s how we get some cases. It’s a working relationship. We take what the police can’t handle.”

  “Why are you trusting me so much?”

  “Because Pat trusted you and mostly because you’re still here working with us. For Jude, it’s not so much trust as taking care of a problem. He never leaves an important problem alone, no matter the risk to him.”

  Then Chloe rose. “Feel up to seeing if the flashlight comes through anywhere on the window?”

  The tea had helped, and the feeling of being hungover had begun to fade. Only as she was rising did she notice that some of her own fresh clothes were neatly folded on the chair beside Chloe’s desk. “Where did those come from?”

  “Damien brought them along with you last night. We have a shower you can use before you change.” Chloe sniffed. “Only took me five years to get Jude to put in a water heater.”

  “That long?”

  “Jude doesn’t feel the icy water. Or did Damien neglect to tell you they don’t feel temperature?”

  “He mentioned it. I just hadn’t extrapolated.”

  “Trust me, it extrapolates to showers, as well. I used to find every excuse to go home to shower, and it wasn’t easy in the middle of a fast-moving case.”

  The blackout curtain proved to need only one more tack, largely because it was so much bigger than the window that it did a really good job.

  Now it was night inside even though it was broad daylight outside.

  Chloe brought out some bagels she had purch
ased on her way in along with some smoked salmon and cream cheese. Caro realized she was famished and helped herself liberally. “What kinds of wards does Jude use?” she asked.

  “The kind he grew up with—holy water and sanctified oils. Sometimes he has me put up my own wards.”

  “Which kind are yours?”

  “I’m sort of Wiccan, but since I started working with Jude I’ve learned a whole lot about all kinds of other beliefs.” Chloe made an impish face. “You could say I’ve developed my own methods.”

  “I admit I don’t know much about it,” Caro remarked as she ate. “My grandmother called herself a witch, but Damien says she was more of a mage.”

  “Really?” Interest was written over Chloe’s face. “I think he meant that your grandmother may have had very strong powers?”

  “Evidently. I’ll be honest, Chloe. I’m pretty much at sea with all of this.” In fact, she seemed to be sailing farther from the shores of reality with every passing hour. “I didn’t really pay attention to Grandma because I didn’t believe in much that I couldn’t see.”

  “I imagine that’s been busy changing.”

  “Obviously.”

  Chloe forked another sliver of salmon onto her bagel. “Well, Wicca is what Jude insists on calling an emergent religion. By that he means we don’t have one single act together, and I guess he’s right about that. We disagree on a lot of things and agree on a lot of others, and we all call ourselves Wiccan.”

  “So how do you decide?”

  Chloe shrugged. “I take what suits me and make the rest myself, basically.”

  A few minutes later, she paused as she ate and looked directly at Caro. “What do you believe?”

  “Right now I’m undergoing a radical transformation.” A truth that didn’t sound nearly as bad as it sometimes felt.

  * * *

  They worked all day, exploring the detailed backgrounds of all the murder victims. At this point, Caro was ready to bend some rules, and she accessed case-file interviews with everyone who knew the family. Chloe even taught her a few things, such as how to hack into social networks to see things that only the account holder was supposed to see.

  She was so absorbed in finding information and making notes that she was startled when Jude and Damien emerged, signaling the end of daylight. There had been no cues, of course, with the office sealed up against light, but it was still hard to believe so many hours had passed.

  Damien scanned her. “You look much more awake.”

  “No kidding,” Chloe responded. “I was banging around in here for nearly an hour before she opened her eyes.”

  Ignoring the others, Damien came to squat beside Caro where she sat at the spare computer, which Chloe had placed on a table for her. “How do you feel?” He continued to appraise her, his eyes filled with concern.

  “This morning I felt hungover, but I’m fine now. For a while I dreamed a darkness was squeezing my chest and sucking all the air out of me. It was so hard to wake. I’d like to know what happened.”

  “So would I.” He reached out to touch her hair and cheek with such gentleness that her heart squeezed.

  She had not expected him to be gentle. Nor did she want her heart responding to him in any way. Despite her reluctance, however, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away from his touch. She needed it, needed it so she wouldn’t feel quite so alone while she faced this evil killer she couldn’t even see. Needed it because her heart ached for it. Needed it because she had suffered so many shocks in such a short time that a kind touch could feel like a lifeline.

  “I’m not sure you should leave this office until we learn more.”

  Nothing was better guaranteed to raise her determination. “I am not about to become the prisoner of fear!”

  He smiled and stood. “There’s my Caro,” he remarked. “Nonetheless.” He looked at Jude.

  “I agree, at least for now. We need to feed the ladies. Chloe, why don’t you join me? Let’s go out and get some real food. Terri will be joining us soon, and she doesn’t have to go to work for a few hours yet.”

  Chloe jumped up. “Real food? As long as I don’t have to cook it. But I don’t want anything we can have delivered. I want something different. Caro?”

  Caro shook her head. “Anything is fine. I’m not picky.”

  Terri’s voice drew her attention to the doorway of Jude’s inner office. She was dressed for work already, to judge by her neat slacks suit, and was smiling. “I already put in my vote for seafood. Are you allergic, Caro?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Then the three of us will be back shortly with loads of shrimp, lobster and crab.”

  Caro watched the women pull on their winter coats and leave with Jude before she said to Damien, “We were obviously excluded from that outing. Or I was.”

  “I don’t mind,” Damien said. “Do you?”

  Before she could answer, he reached for her hand and drew her to her feet until she stood only inches from him.

  Once again he raised a hand to caress her hair and cheek lightly with his palm.

  “When I resurrected tonight, the first thing on my mind was you. How do you do that to me, Caro?”

  She wished she knew the answer, because he affected her the same way. Throughout the day her thoughts had turned to him, and when she had taken a nap under Chloe’s watchful eye so that she could stay awake longer tonight, he had been waiting for her behind her eyelids and in her dreams.

  Hot, sizzling dreams, the kinds of things the mind could only spin in unguarded moments. One in particular made her almost want to blush, and she might have if not for the fact that no one but she knew what it was.

  She had dreamed that she stood before him in a dimly lit room, while he used that voice that made others obey him but that only made her tingle.

  But in the dream it had made her obey him as it could not in the waking world. He had simply smiled and said, “Strip for me.”

  And she had. She could remember every aching moment of it as desire, anticipation and nervousness had filled her. What if he didn’t like the way she looked? What if he never touched her at all?

  Never in real life had she done that for a man, and it almost shocked her that she could have such a wish, even in her dreams, to display herself that way.

  In the dream, she had stood naked before him, following commands to turn, bend over, part her legs, until she had felt so incredibly exposed, knowing he was looking at her sex while she couldn’t see him at all.

  At the order to spread herself more, she had obeyed, experiencing an even more agonizing need to be touched and reassured that he desired her.

  In the dream she had felt so deliciously helpless and enthralled, so free and yet so oddly inhibited.

  The only thing she wanted was for him to do whatever he wished with her.

  Finally, finally, she had felt the soft touch of his fingers on her exposed petals, stroking, separating, exploring...

  And just as she thought she would explode, the dream had vanished.

  Standing before him now, she was very glad he couldn’t read her mind.

  But he could read her scents, and as she peeked up at him, she saw knowledge in his gaze. At least it wasn’t arrogant knowledge, or even self-satisfied knowledge. He seemed perplexed, actually.

  “Somehow,” he murmured, “we are going to have to find time to settle this matter between us. Safely. For both of us.”

  At least he was frank. She appreciated that. Most of her experience with dating had been of the kind that involved dancing around, a lot of pretense and even some outright lies. In fact, she had reached a point where she believed the words I love you were one of the biggest lies in the English language.

  At least he was calling this what it was: raw desire. She was also somewhat reassured by his description of claiming. It meant he potentially had as much to lose as she did.

  She felt breathless, though, as he lowered his head and nestled his mouth against hers. Cool lips
, soft lips. Not cold. Nothing about him was as cold as she would have expected.

  Then he drew back, trailing his hand over her throat and breast before quite suddenly reappearing across the room. “But not now.”

  Definitely not now. Not with Jude, Terri and Chloe likely to walk in at any moment with dinner.

  “Soon,” he promised. “Very soon.”

  She actually hoped so. She had to get this vampire out of her head and out of her dreams. She struggled for a coherent thought, something else to talk about before she ceased to give a damn if someone walked in.

  “Why was I so sleepy?”

  “I don’t know and that worries me. It definitely wasn’t a natural sleep.”

  “It didn’t feel like one. I felt drugged. But when I took a nap this afternoon, that was normal sleep.” Well, normal except for her dreams. “Do you think that energy was doing something to me?”

  “That’s my guess.”

  “But it killed the others. It hasn’t killed me.”

  “Perhaps because of that gris-gris Alika gave you. Or perhaps because we got you back to Jude’s office before it could finish its work. One thing I’ve decided is that if you want to go back to your apartment we need to make sure Jude wards it thoroughly.”

  “Okay, I’ll agree with that. But we’ve still got to figure out how to deal with this elemental.”

  “I’m beginning to think the only way to deal with it is to find the person who summoned it.”

  That didn’t cheer Caro at all. Millions of people in this city. Thousands who could be dabbling with occult powers. Finding the one responsible for this sounded a whole lot harder than finding a human murderer. “You know, when the police hunt for a killer, we usually have a clue or two. Some indication of a troubled relationship. Fingerprints, other physical evidence. There’s no evidence in this case.”

  “You were the one who cautioned us not to narrow ourselves too much. A wise caution. But it remains that elementals don’t kill people for their own reasons. They kill because people set them the task by creating a curse that calls them. So we still have the clue of motive to guide us.”

 

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