by Hendee, Barb
Good.
Not much of what they were saying made sense. Eleisha was talking to some guy she called Robert—must be the one with the shaved head—and he was talking back to her about laws and training and a bunch of other boring stuff.
Mary was trying to remember it all as best she could, when she felt someone else in the apartment, someone who was really dead, another ghost. The presence was coming closer, and for some reason, it scared her.
She blinked out.
Since arriving, Julian had not left his hotel suite at the Fairmont.
He couldn’t move around freely until he had some information on Eleisha’s location. He’d had a good deal of time to think, and if Eleisha had indeed managed to locate another vampire, this woman called Rose, it was likely that she had been created right around the time he had taken matters into his hands in 1825.
She had not been listed in Angelo’s book, and Angelo kept careful records. But why would one of the makers create a new vampire and keep her a secret? That wasn’t the way of the elders.
Had she been trained all? Was she telepathic? Did she know anything of the laws his predecessors had followed?
It also troubled him that he did not know what had caused Rose and Eleisha to seek each other out in the first place. Or how had Eleisha managed to find her?
The air shimmered, and Mary appeared by the fireplace.
“There’s another one!” she exclaimed immediately. “And I think I felt a ghost in their apartment!”
Instead of growing more accustomed to her outbursts and lack of manners and her grating voice, he only seemed to hate her more. What was she saying? Another one?
“Slow down. Another what?”
“Another vampire, besides that Rose lady from the letters . . . or at least I think I saw Rose. But there’s now a man named Robert, with a shaved head and a broken nose, and I could almost see through his eyes.”
Julian froze.
“He kept on talking about laws and training and stuff. I think he wants to go back to Portland with them.”
Julian put one hand to his mouth, almost unable to take this in. His hand was shaking. Robert? Impossible. Robert was gone.
But Mary had just described him right down to his clear eyes.
One of the telepathic elders who’d plotted to destroy Julian still existed?
The rules had changed.
The game had changed.
Everything was different now.
chapter 8
Robert didn’t stay long, saying he had things to take care of at the warehouse. Eleisha had no idea what these things might be, but she wasn’t sorry when he left.
As of yet, he had not stated whether he was going home with them or not—and she didn’t know which answer would be better.
Rose closed the door behind him and a tense silence followed. She turned around. “He said he’d be back tomorrow night, but he must be overwhelmed by all this.”
“I think we all are,” Eleisha answered.
“I have some business to do in my room,” Rose said, walking quickly across the floor and disappearing from sight. Wade was sitting on an antique couch, and he didn’t look happy. Oddly, Philip seemed fine, but then he’d known a good deal about Robert already.
Eleisha went over and sat down close to Wade. “Don’t worry. We won’t let him take over,” she said. “If he comes with us, he’s just another member of the household.”
He nodded, his white-blond hair hanging in his eyes. “Okay.” He relaxed slightly. “I didn’t think you noticed.”
“What? That he sees himself as lord of the manor and us as his peasants? Yeah, we noticed.”
“I warned you,” Philip said absently from across the room.
“When we came here, I just didn’t expect . . . anyone like him,” Wade said. “You talked about finding vampires like Rose, scared, hiding.” He looked over at Philip. “I guess I thought you’d be the badass of the group.”
Philip smiled. “I am.”
“So you don’t mind if he comes back with us?”
Philip shrugged. “I don’t care either way. This whole thing is for you and Eleisha, not me. If he does come, he won’t stay long. Angelo told me Robert never stays long.” He turned to Eleisha. “But he’s better than I remember, and he didn’t try to hurt you or Wade.”
“Did you expect him to?” Eleisha asked.
“I thought he might be trying to draw us all out at once, and I don’t think I could fight him by myself. If he went near you, I told Wade to shoot him in the chest or the face, to stun him so I could take his head.”
Eleisha sat up straight. Philip said this with all the passion of someone ordering breakfast at Denny’s. Wade glanced away, having the good taste to at least appear embarrassed.
“That’s what you expected to happen tonight?” Eleisha asked.
Philip shrugged again as if the question wasn’t worth an answer. “Wade, I’m bored and there’s no DVD player. Do we have cable here?”
Wade stood up and headed for the television, apparently glad for the change of topic. “No pay channels, but I can probably find us a movie if you don’t mind commercials.”
“I hate commercials.”
“That’s the best I can do.”
Wade started channel surfing until Philip said, “Oh, stop there . . . No, go back. That was Die Hard. I’d watch commercials for Die Hard.”
“Okay.” Wade looked around. “Seamus, are you there? This is a pretty good movie.” Nothing happened, and Wade frowned. Apparently, Seamus was not interested in watching movies with Philip. “I’m going to order a pizza.”
With Philip entertained, and Wade ordering pizza, Eleisha sat quietly, trying not to think about what could have happened tonight had Philip felt threatened. Gunshots and beheadings at the Japanese Tea Garden? But then again, Philip considered scenarios she did not. And vice versa. Maybe they needed each other even more than she’d realized.
She glanced over at Rose’s bedroom door. Once they got everyone back to the church, and they could begin setting it up as a proper safe house, all this distrust would be over. The sooner the better.
“I’m going to go check on Rose,” she said.
Walking to the bedroom, she decided not to knock and opened the door to find Rose just sitting on her bed, staring into space.
“Eleisha!” Rose said in surprise.
Eleisha slipped in and closed the door. “I didn’t really think you had business to finish. You can’t sell the place overnight, and you can do your banking from anywhere.”
Rose looked lovely, sitting there in her green dress with her hair down over her shoulders. It suddenly occurred to Eleisha that in the past, back in Scotland, Rose had hardly given a thought to her appearance, sometimes forgetting to even brush her hair. Like Philip, she had changed over the decades.
“You’re upset with me for finding Robert,” Rose said.
Eleisha hesitated. Was she upset? She walked over and sat on the bed. “No.” Then she shook her head for emphasis. “Of course I’m not. This was our plan. You looked for one of us in a clever fashion, and you found someone. I just didn’t expect him, and you have to admit that he’ll . . . take some getting used to. But we won’t leave him behind if he wants to come, and I think he’ll want to come. We just need to get started. I’d like to buy plane tickets for tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow night?” Rose’s voice wavered. “So soon?”
“It’s best. I should make arrangements to buy the church. Then we can set up rooms for you and Robert, and do a bit more work on the place. Then we start looking for anyone else still in hiding.” She paused. “That was smart how you found Robert, looking for news reports. How long can Seamus be away from you before he starts to weaken?”
“Not long,” Rose whispered, but her eyes looked far away. “Plane tickets?” she repeated. “We’ll be trapped high in the air, won’t we? What is that like? Will we have our own small room on the plane?”
Eleisha blinked, suddenly realizing Rose had never been on a plane. “Oh, it’s like what you see in the movies. Just rows of seats.”
“Seats? With everyone sitting all together out in the open? We will be trapped in the air, among all the passengers and all the windows?” She stood up, crossing her arms as if she was cold.
“It’s not that bad. Truly. It’s the fastest way, and I promise to take care of you. We’ll be home in a matter of hours.”
“No. . . .” Rose shook her head, her eyes growing glassy and wild at the same time. “I could not do that. We must have a cabin . . . where we can shutter the windows and lock ourselves away.”
Eleisha blinked. “A cabin, like on a train?”
“Yes, yes . . . the train.”
The air shimmered.
“I think we should do as she says, Rose,” Seamus said, appearing next to the bed with a worried expression. “I felt something in the guest room tonight. It vanished, and I’ve been trying to track it down.”
Eleisha looked around. “Felt something? What?”
“I don’t know. Something dead, but it wasn’t one of you . . . more like one of me.”
“A ghost?”
“Maybe.”
Did Seamus know any other ghosts? Speak to them?
“But I’ve never felt one inside the apartment before, and with all this going on . . . ,” he said, moving closer to Rose, “I think we should leave.”
Rose lowered her head and didn’t answer him.
Eleisha suffered a few seconds of frustration. A train from San Francisco to Portland could take nearly a full day, but then she took in the sight of Rose’s anxious face and her frustration faded.
It didn’t matter how they got home.
“Don’t worry, Rose,” she said. “I’ll get us a cabin on the train.”
Julian sat in a linen-covered chair in his suite, holding his fist to his mouth. A part of him had always known. In the wee hours of the day between sunset and dusk, he sometimes felt panic rising that perhaps an elder had somehow escaped him, slipped away to hide and wait. Or he even feared that perhaps Angelo had missed one—or two—from the listings in his book. Once fully awake, these fears left him . . . but they always returned.
And Eleisha had found one.
Eleisha had found Robert Brighton.
Julian did not understand how he’d been tricked. He’d cut off Robert’s head and watched his body turn to dust. But only an elder would know of the laws, and Mary had described him in detail.
If Robert began teaching the old laws, then everything Julian had accomplished to protect himself would perish. He would be the aberration again.
If Robert had survived, escaped . . . could there be others like him?
Yet one truth was clear.
Eleisha was managing to do something Julian could not: draw these vampires in hiding out into the open.
He realized that he could not kill her yet. He would not kill her yet. He was still the hunter, only this time, she was the hound. In just over a month, she had found two others and drawn them out of hiding. Rose was not important just now. Mary had relayed that Rose still required “training by a proper master.” If this was true, then she knew nothing of her own kind or their history.
But Robert had to be destroyed before the week was out. In years past, he would have murdered Julian for merely existing—and Robert was fully telepathic.
To Julian’s further discomfort, Mary had relayed word-for-word conversations that seemed to suggest Wade was also telepathic, but the girl must be wrong. He did not see how this was possible. Wade was mortal. But what if . . . ? The implications of the timing and Eleisha’s sudden manifestation of psychic abilities left him almost too unsettled to think.
Julian tightened his fist. What to do?
He could not reveal his presence yet or the fact that he was hunting again, not when his prey appeared to be gathering into a group. He’d often taken out two vampires at once by stepping from the darkness, beheading one of them instantly, and then killing the second one as he or she was hit by the first one’s psychic explosion. Julian was not as affected and maintained his ability to strike.
But four vampires? No, that was too many.
But if any one of them learned of his presence here too early, they would band together as never before, and he would lose the element of surprise. How could he manage to pick off one or two before they learned he was hunting again?
Strength in numbers.
They were joining forces, and he had no one. Well, he did have Mary, and in spite of her repellent nature, she had proven herself useful. Did he need more numbers?
He shook his head.
No, he existed alone. He believed in the purity of remaining alone—as all his kind should. Unnatural, undead beings who fed on mortals should function alone, not pretend to be some kind of human family. The very thought repelled him. He was convinced that the behavior of the elders, their need for each other’s company, and their close physical proximity to each other must have generated the first inklings of their telepathy, of their twisted need for laws, in the first place.
He was sure of it. . . . Centuries and centuries ago, one vampire must have become aware of this power and begun assisting the others. Why else would a new vampire have to be “taught” by his or her maker? Why else would a new vampire need an elder to awaken such abilities?
That thought brought him back to Robert.
He had to do something!
Strength in numbers.
He took his fist away from his mouth. If . . . if he created a vampire to assist him, the obvious choice would be to pick someone strong, an intelligent and resilient fighter. But he could not bring himself to do this. No, he would have to pick someone who could be controlled and easily dispatched if necessary, but also someone who yearned for more than what he had, someone who could be used and tempted.
Julian would need to find the right type. But he was not telepathic, and he was not a good judge of mortals by simply studying their faces, especially Americans. They all looked the same to him.
He glanced around the room. “Mary, are you still here?”
She materialized by the fireplace, seeming somewhat put out. “Yeah, I’m here. You give up on staring into space?”
“I need you to find someone.”
“What? Again? I told you. I know right where they are.”
“No, I need you to find a mortal.”
“Someone still alive? How am supposed to do that? Even if I had the right name, I can’t exactly turn pages in a phone book. . . . Well, I guess you could turn them for me and—”
“Quiet!” he ordered, wishing he could strike her. “Listen to me. I need you to find a specific type of mortal.” He closed his eyes, visualizing. “A man in his late teens or early twenties. He lives in near squalor, not homeless, but in some shabby apartment where he watches TV at night. He has a job but makes just enough to scrape by. He has failed in relationships with women, but he believes success is a matter of luck, and that if only he had wealth and drove a BMW, then all his problems would be solved.”
When he opened his eyes, Mary was floating right in front of him. “Geez, Julian.”
“Can you find someone like this?”
“Here? Sure, the city’s full of guys like that. You probably couldn’t swing a Barbie doll by her hair without hitting one. I just can’t believe you know that much about people.”
“Find one,” he said coldly. “Tonight. And come back with his address.”
Mary materialized inside a darkened doorway near the mouth of an alley. She’d already been looking around the city for an hour.
In spite of her flippant words to Julian, Mary was having a tough time locating the right man. Although she’d never paid attention at school, she wasn’t stupid, and she knew exactly what kind of guy Julian was looking for.
She would never admit it, but in the past few nights, she’d felt more satisfaction with herself than she had in all of
her previous life. There was something satisfying about tracking Eleisha in secret and always finding her, about traveling wherever she chose with a freedom that no other ghosts seemed to enjoy.
Mary was unique.
She hadn’t even thought about her parents in several days. Even though Julian was a cold-blooded bastard, she was starting to kind of . . . well, like the tasks he gave her. Weird.
Focusing on the task at hand, she spotted a FOR LEASE sign on an empty shop next to a video store, and she got an idea.
Blinking out, she blinked into the empty shop and moved up alongside the window to peer into the street. She could tell a lot about people by the movies they rented.
She started to study everyone who came out of the video store and walked past her.
The first guy was bald and weighed about three hundred pounds, and he was stuffing movies inside his coat like he was ashamed. The films were probably porn.
Nope. Too perverted, she thought.
Next, a couple came out arguing loudly because she’d wanted to see Fried Green Tomatoes again, and he’d wanted to rent The Fast and the Furious with Vin Diesel. They weren’t carrying any movies, just arguing.
Nope. Too married.
The next guy was tall and good-looking, wearing tight pants and a tank top. His hair was perfectly gelled, and he had a movie in each hand: The English Patient and A Room with a View.
Nope. Too gay.
Then a slender man of about twenty, with shaggy brown hair, came out of the video store alone. He was wearing jeans, a leather jacket, a backpack, and a pair of ancient Adidas athletic shoes that must have once been white. His shoulders were hunched forward, like he was closed off to everyone else.
Mary looked down at his right hand. He was carrying two movies. The one on top was Spider-Man with Tobey Maguire. When the film slipped slightly, she saw the one behind it: Spider-Man 2.
This guy had promise. He liked movies where an ordinary boy gets bit by a spider and becomes a superhero that Kirsten Dunst would consider sleeping with.
She let him get a little ways down the street, and then she blinked out, rematerializing in an alley down the street so she could keep tabs on him. She repeated this process several times until he reached an apartment building in the Mission District and went inside.