Lou looked at the man, and Jason turned to meet his eyes.
"It's Delia's." He closed his eyes. "My God, she was held here in this…in this hole. She must have been terrified."
"There's no reason to think she's not still alive, Beck,” Lou said. Hell, as much as he disliked and mistrusted Jason, he felt sorry for him in that moment.
"Lou!"
Both men whirled at Maxie's shout from up above. Lou took off at a run, Jason scrambling to his feet and following right on his heels. They emerged from the darkened stairway to find Max backing away from Stormy, who glared at her, her face twisted in a snarl as she rose slowly to her feet from the floor.
"Ce ti-e scris, in frunte ti-e pus!" Stormy shouted the words and flew at Max with a shriek, her hands like raking claws in front of her.
"What the hell?" Jason shouted.
And even as he said it, Lou lunged in front of Max. He gripped Stormy's shoulders as she thrashed, swinging her clawed hands and scratching his face, kicking, shrieking, as he struggled to hold her at arm's length. And then she just stopped. Her body went limp, her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed.
Lou caught her against him, then picked her up in his arms, shocked at how limp, how lifeless, she seemed. She was motionless, dead weight. "We need to get her the hell out of here." He turned as he said it and saw the reaction in Max's eyes the instant they moved over his face.
"What?"
"Oh, God, Lou—she scratched the hell out of you!'
"It's okay. I'm okay, Max,” he repeated firmly, to snap that look off her face. "Let's get her back to the car."
She nodded, the movement jerky, and led the way to the door. "I don't know what happened. She was sitting on the floor, looking dazed and maybe in pain. I don't know. And then she just got up and came at me, screaming that language she doesn't even know."
"What did you do with the last bunch of gibberish she was spouting—the stuff I wrote down?" Lou asked.
"I e-mailed it to a linguist at the University of PA. Haven't heard back yet, but it's tough to get to the computer without her knowing. She's got it in her room with her."
Lou nodded, carrying Stormy back along the path. Her head lolled like a rag doll's. "Maybe you'd better light a fire under that linguist's ass when we get back. And I think at this point, you might as well feel free to do it right in front of her. If she doesn't like it, too bad."
"I agree. What did you find in the basement?" Max asked.
"A cage,” Jason said before Lou could answer. "A small, pitch-dark cage, like a jail cell, with a dirt floor and steel bars. And Delia's barrette."
"Oh, Jesus,” Max whispered. "Then she was there."
"She was there,” Jason said. He seemed angry, angrier than Max had ever seen him. "I'll kill that son of a bitch"
Max swallowed. "We have to get out to the island. That has to be where the girls are being held."
"Not tonight,” Lou said.
"But, Lou…”
"Look, what do we know so far? Huh? We know we're dealing with a vampire who apparently makes a habit of kidnapping women and then wiping their minds clean and setting them free again. We know the chief of police is probably in league with him, and that the rest of the town is either willingly involved or held under some kind of…thrall. We've got to use common sense here. We're outnumbered, and it's getting dark. We do not want to go up against this bastard in the dark, Max. We're at such a huge disadvantage already, we need to use anything we can to gain the upper hand. We need to get back to the motel. Now."
Max didn't want to wait. God only knew what those poor girls were going through out there—if indeed that was where they were. If indeed, she thought grimly, they were even still alive.
"I don't understand,” Jason said. "If this guy really is a…a vampire…what does he do with these girls he takes out there?"
Max met Lou's eyes and saw how dark they were. He was angry, too, she realized. Angry because she had been attacked. Angry because two teenage girls were at some rogue vamp's mercy.
"All we know for sure, Jay, is that he returns them unharmed."
"But… what does he do with them in the meantime?" Lou closed his eyes. Max looked away.
"Jesus, do you think he's…feeding from them?"
"That would be my guess,” Lou admitted.
Jason swore and looked ready to do murder. Lou said, “It’s not as bad as you're imagining, Jason. There's no pain. And if he's wiping the memory from their minds and leaving them unharmed, your sister is probably not in imminent danger. Less danger, in fact, than Max is right now, from her own best friend."
Max put a hand on his shoulder. "Stormy would never have hurt me, Lou."
He glanced at her as if he knew better. "She was as strong as a man, just now. I don't know what the hell is going on, but—I don't think that was Stormy. I don't think it was her at all."
Max held his gaze and silently agreed with him. That person she had just seen, glaring at her, shouting at her in some foreign tongue, had not been Stormy. No way. "Her eyes changed again. They were a different color."
His lips thinned. He said nothing.
Jason said, “Let me carry her for a while. When I get tired, you can take her again."
Lou nodded, stopped walking and carefully placed
Stormy into Jason's arms. Then he moved closer to Max and slid an arm around her shoulders.
"You're bleeding,” she said.
"Better me than you."
"Thank you, Lou. You're always there for me, you know that? You always have my back."
He met her eyes. "Always will, too" He lifted a hand to touch the scratches on his own face, drew his hand away and looked at the blood on his fingertips.
"I've got some antibiotic ointment back at the motel,” she said. "The doc left it for my head. I'll take care of those scratches as soon as we get back."
He thought about telling her he could manage on his own, but then he thought better of it.
She slid an arm around his waist, leaned her head on his shoulder. "I gotta tell you, Lou, I'm getting scared. I don't know what the hell kind of vamp this is we're dealing with here, but he's got to be incredibly powerful. To be able to hold an entire town under his control… Maybe he's exerting some kind of mind control over Stormy, too"
"The question is, why her and not the rest of us?"
Max shook her head. The gate was coming into sight now, and the sky was growing darker by degrees. Lou took his arm from around her. "My turn."
Jason shifted Stormy back into Lou's arms, but even as he did, she opened her eyes, lifted her head, blinking. "Storm?"
Stormy frowned at Max, then up at Lou. Her frown vanished, eyes widening. "What the hell happened to you?"
Lou relaxed. It was Stormy's voice, speaking English. And whatever color they'd been before, her eyes were the right color now, though it was rapidly becoming too dark to tell.
"Max, Lou is bleeding,” Stormy said. "What happened? Where… where are we? Where's the lighthouse?"
"We're on our way back,” Lou said. "You passed out again. And I had a run-in with a…a pissed-off squirrel. Walked right into it. No big deal."
Stormy frowned, shifting her eyes from Lou's to Max's again, clearly not believing him.
"Just relax, Stormy."
"Why are you carrying me?"
Lou sighed. "I told you, you passed out again. I wasn't sure you were strong enough to walk."
"I can walk. Of course I can walk. Put me down, Lou."
Not liking the idea, Lou set her on her feet.
She straightened, but then her knees buckled and she had to catch herself on Lou's shoulders. She steadied herself, then got her footing and let him go. "Damn. Little head rush, there."
"You sure you're all right?" Max asked.
"Sure." She looked at all of them, and while Max and Lou were doing a pretty good job of looking casual, Jason was not. He was watching her as if she were a rabid dog about to spring. Stormy saw it. "Jes
us,” she whispered. "What happened back there?"
"Come on, let me help you climb the gate, hon,” Max said. "We'll talk about it back at the motel. Okay?" Stormy reached out to grip the gate, then stopped and stared down at her hands. She lifted them, fingers open, then blinked up at Lou. "My nails are broken… There's…blood. My God, I did that to you, didn't I?"
Lou sighed. "Look, you had a momentary lapse."
"An out-of-body experience or something,” Max put in.
"I did that. I can't believe…Jesus, why would I..?" She pressed her hands to her head, shaking it side to side. "What the hell is happening to me?"
Stormy had never been so frightened in her life—hell, not even when she'd taken a bullet after being lured to Lou's apartment by someone trying to set him up for her murder. She hadn't had time to be scared then. She'd walked through Lou's door, heard a pop and felt her head jerk back. There had been no pain. That was all of it, nothing else, no time for fear, for panic.
This was entirely different. She felt as if she were under attack, but not from the outside. This attacker seemed to be hitting from within her, inside her own mind, her own body.
Somehow.
"You don't look so good, honey." Max walked beside her into Lou's motel room. She'd tried to talk her into going back to her own, going to bed, but Stormy knew there was work to be done. And she never would have slept, anyway. "I'm gonna send Jason out to the diner for takeout,” Max said. "I'll have him bring you back some herbal tea."
"Thanks, hon. But I'm more in the mood for cheeseburgers, fries, a milkshake and about a six-pack of something carbonated and caffeinated to hell and gone."
Max smiled. Stormy could see the relief in her eyes and vowed to keep trying to act like her old self—even if she was far from feeling it.
"How about the rest of you?" she asked. "Empty calories all around?"
"Sounds good to me, and I'd kill for a beer to go with,” Lou said.
"Hang on" Max went to the telephone stand in the room, picked up the pad there and made a short list. "So we need a fresh case of diet Coke, a six pack of Bud, and burgers and fries all around?"
"And a milkshake,” Stormy said. "Chocolate" The thought made her stomach churn, but if she admitted to feeling sick, Max would be even more worried than she already was—if that were even possible.
Max scribbled and handed the notepad to Jason. "You willing to make a food run?"
Stormy looked at him. He looked horrible, almost as had as she probably did. His eyes had rings around them, and he seemed dazed, shell-shocked. She doubted he had any intent of pursuing his interest in dating her after what he'd just seen. Hell, if she were reading him right, he was afraid of her now. And who could blame him?
"I couldn't eat,” Jason said. He looked outside the window, unfocused, distracted. "Yeah, I'll go. Not much else I can do right now. For Dee. God, I want her back. This is killing me."
"It's going to be okay, Jason. One more night. That's all. One more. Tomorrow we'll get out to that island, come hell or high water,” Max said.
Jason nodded, tore the top sheet off the notepad and headed out.
Max licked her lips. "We also need someone to track down some of those other women. Talk to them, see if we can learn anything."
Stormy nodded slowly. "I could get started on that tonight."
"Storm, tonight you should rest. After what happened—"
"After what happened?" Stormy said, cutting her off. "The problem is, we don't know what happened. Not really." She looked at Lou, who'd walked through into the bathroom and was standing there now, in front of the sink, pressing a wet washcloth to his face. "How could I do that to Lou and not even remember it?"
"I don't know."
Stormy shook her head, paced to the bed and sank onto it. "You guys should lock me up someplace until we figure this out. God only knows what else I might do. I feel like I'm losing control of my own body—like someone else, some stranger, just takes over at will." She closed her eyes. "God, it's a horrible feeling."
"It must be." Max sat down beside her.
"What do you think it is, Max?"
"I don't know."
Stormy stared her friend in the eyes. "You have a theory. Come on, Max, you always have a theory. What do you think is going on here?"
Max pursed her lips, lowered her eyes, cast a quick look into the bathroom. Lou had closed the door now, and she heard the shower running. She supposed he was beyond overhearing. "It seems to me it's got something to do with the coma."
"I thought of that, too. But I don't understand…"
"You remember how after you came out of it, you said you'd been lost? Wandering around in some dark place, unable to find your way back? And how you met my sister there?"
"Morgan. Yeah, I remember. She helped me find my way back" She lowered her head. "And she remembered it, too. She recognized me when she saw me, even though we'd never met before."
"Which means it was real, on some level. That place where you went. You were able to interact with other people, other… beings."
"I guess so. Yeah."
"Do you remember encountering… anyone else while you were there?"
Stormy frowned, thought back, searching her mind. "No…I…no."
"You seem uncertain."
She shrugged. There had been other encounters, but they had been with herself. She'd seen her life unfold before her eyes, scenes of her own childhood. She'd seen her early childhood, happy times with her parents. She'd seen herself finding Jason and Max, way back in the second grade, and how they'd become friends from the start. She'd seen so much.
But none of that counted. "There were others. Flashes, speeding by us so fast. We thought they were people who weren't…stuck or lost like we were. We thought they knew where they were supposed to be—it was like a parade of souls flying past like comets, to the other side, or from it. They went in both directions. It seemed like we were in some kind of… way station. An in-between point. But besides them, I didn't see anyone else,” she told Max.
"I think maybe you did. Maybe you don't remember it, or maybe you weren't even aware of it, Stormy, but I think maybe someone…or something…sort of…came back with you."
Stormy's face went utterly lax, and every whisper of breath fled her lungs. Max's theory—it fit what she had been feeling so perfectly that it gave her chills.
"Maybe some kind of…I don't know. Do you think , maybe…something walked into your body while you were out of it? Sort of took up residence and now doesn't want to leave?"
Stormy closed her eyes. "Like… some kind of possession?"
"When you blank out, Storm, your eyes change color. Your voice changes. And I can't be sure, but I think you're speaking in a different language. It's like you're someone else."
She couldn't stop the sob that rose up, nearly choking her. She doubled over, clutching her waist, fighting a sense of panic that wouldn't release its grip.
Max stroked her back and shoulders. "I could be wrong, Storm. It could be something else entirely, but—"
"It doesn't feel wrong. Jesus, Max, I just want it out of me. How do I get it out of me?"
"I don't know. But I promise you, we'll find out."
It was dark when Jason Beck pulled up at the diner. He got out of the Jeep and started for the entrance, but the vampire didn't let him go inside. He snapped his powerful arm around the young man's neck from behind. Before Beck could blink, the vampire pulled him into an alley and shoved him up against the cinder-block wall.
"What do you think you're doing, Jason Beck?"
"Ah, Jesus, easy, would you?"
The vampire eased his grip, but didn't release him. "I have no intention of being easy on you. You've been given your orders. I told you to be patient. To wait for further instructions. And yet you let those prying bastards break into my lighthouse."
"It's not like I could stop them! Not without tipping them off. Jesus, will you let me loose? I'm not going anywhere."
Jason's feet settled more firmly on the ground, and he smoothed his jacket where it had bunched around his shoulders.
He lifted his chin. "Is all this cloak-and-dagger crap really necessary? Couldn't we talk over a beer inside the diner? It's not like anyone in this town is going to challenge you."
The vampire made sure his smile was slow and deliberate. "Quite correct. So what is this, an attempt to befriend me? It won't work, Jason Beck. I don't have any friends. And I never drink…beer." His smile faded. "But you already knew that, didn't you? What did they find at the lighthouse?"
"I saw where you were holding my sister. My God, what kind of a monster would put a young girl in a hole like that?"
The vampire felt a twinge of conscience and had to lower his eyes, but only briefly. "The girls were there only for a short time. I assure you, their current accommodations are nothing short of luxurious, as you saw for yourself when you visited them. They have use of a theater, a pool, even a sauna. My house has every convenience. They're getting gourmet meals and the best of care, and they will continue to—as long as you follow my instructions to the letter." He frowned then, staring hard into Jason's eyes and seeing there the man's nightmarish thoughts. "Your fears are unfounded, Beck. I haven't…tasted her. Children are not my preference. Stop torturing yourself with such thoughts and focus on what needs to be done."
Jason Beck didn't know whether to believe that or not, the vampire sensed. But the young man hoped it was the truth.
"I understand the listening devices on the telephones in the motel rooms are no longer functioning."
"That wasn't me. It was the ex-cop, Malone. He found one in his room and then checked all the others.
Hell, if I'd stopped him, he'd have known something was wrong."
The vampire searched his eyes, his mind, and then nodded. "It doesn't matter. I can keep tabs on you without the aid of electronics."
Jason swallowed, nodded. "I did what you asked. I got Max and Storm to come here. I don't know what more you want from me."
Wings of the Night 08 Blue Twilight Page 17