“What do you have in mind?” Jean asked, holding his wineglass in both hands and peering over the rim at Michael.
“It is simple. We must somehow sabotage the work of the group that is trying to find a way to reverse the Transformation. If our fellow Vampyres have no choice about remaining Vampyres, I feel that sooner or later we can convince them that our way of feeding is superior.”
“Do you mean, you think we should kill them?” Christina asked, her eyes glittering.
Michael pursed his lips, considering her suggestion. “No, I think that would only reveal our position to Carmilla and might give her the leverage with the other members of the Council to array them against us. I feel we should be more subtle than that.”
“What do you suggest?” Sarah asked.
“First we need to try and gain allies among our fellow Vampyres. Perhaps if we approached them one by one and very cautiously sounded them out, we might find others who want to feed and hunt as we do.”
Jean nodded. “If they show sufficient interest, we could invite them to join us on one of our hunts,” he suggested.
“A capital idea, Jean,” Michael agreed. “Also, we already know the one known as the Ripper feels as we do. We must do all in our power to find him and try to get him to join us before the others do.”
“That won’t be easy,” Sarah said.
“None of this is going to be easy,” Michael said, “but it must be done. The next step will be to stop the research into the cure.”
“How can we do that except by killing the doctors?” Christina asked.
“The same way Roger Niemann attempted in Houston,” Michael said.
“You mean, kidnap this TJ person and try to enlist her help?” Jean asked.
Michael shook his head. “No, that won’t work. We already know that she is violently opposed to becoming one of us and is working as hard as she can to develop the cure. She would never agree to work with us, and since she has already gone through the Rite of Transformation, there is nothing we could hold over her head to force her cooperation.”
“Then what do you have in mind?” Sarah asked.
“According to Carmilla, there are four people involved in the research. A policeman and three doctors: TJ O’Reilly, Matt Carter, and Samantha Scott. The policeman has no medical knowledge regarding the cure. We must focus on one of the doctors. TJ is of no use to us, so we must choose one of the other two. Either Matt or Samantha will have to be convinced to help us sabotage the search for a cure.”
“But how can we do that?” Jean asked. “From what TJ told Carmilla, these people have dedicated themselves to finding this cure so they can reverse TJ’s transformation.”
“I suggest we kidnap Samantha Scott,” Michael said, “and use her to force the others to stop their research.”
“As you said,” Jean reminded Michael, “killing one of the doctors would be very risky.”
“I don’t propose to kill her,” Michael said with a sly grin, “merely to Transform her. Once she is one of us, she may feel different.”
“And if not? If she still desires to reverse her Transformation, as TJ did?” Sarah asked.
“Then we raid her mind and find out all she knows about the research and how we might sabotage it,” Michael said. “At the very least, we’ll know exactly what we’re up against.”
“What if Carmilla finds out what we’re doing?” Sarah asked.
Michael shrugged. “How will she find out? When we take Samantha, we’ll let the others know if they go to the police or tell anyone about her abduction, she will immediately be killed. That should keep them from talking.”
“It’s a very risky plan,” Jean said, shaking his head.
“All life is a risk, Jean,” Michael replied. “But letting these Normals destroy our way of life is much riskier.”
He held up his glass in a toast. “To victory over our adversaries,” he said solemnly.
“To victory,” they all chimed in, and downed their wine as one.
* * *
I finished adding the latest findings on plasmid research into my laptop and closed the computer. There were some older papers on my ship I wanted to go over, so I dressed and got my car out of the garage. My research was coming along much faster than I’d dared hope and I was excited.
There was little traffic, so I made the five-mile trip in less than twenty minutes. I parked on the street in front of the Moon Chaser and walked toward the gangplank. As I approached the ship, I felt a familiar tingle on the back of my neck—it was as if I were being watched.
Stopping, I turned and slowly looked around. There was no one visible, and when I cast my mind out, I could sense no other presence nearby.
I shook my head, thinking I was becoming paranoid in my old age.
When I got to the gangplank and reached up to deactivate the alarm system, I noticed an envelope taped to the keyboard.
On full alert now, I checked the area again and still saw no one. I took the envelope and opened it. Inside was a sheet of paper with a handwritten message on it.
Roger,
I need to see you. I will wait every night for the next week in the club at the Top of the Sheraton for you to come to me. TJ O’Reilly
My heart began to pound and my hand shook as I remembered the nights and days I’d stayed with TJ, taking her slowly through the Rite of Transformation, hoping she would be my mate forever.
Could this be a trap? I’d missed her terribly since that awful night on my ship in Houston, and several times had thought seriously about returning to Houston to see if I could locate her. It had been long enough now that her Transformation must be complete; she was a Vampyre, like me.
I wondered briefly if she still hated me for what I’d done to her, or if she had come to accept her fate, as I had two hundred years ago.
Was it possible she missed me as I missed her? Could there still be a chance for us to go through life together and perhaps even work together to find a cure that would release us both from this curse of Vampyrism?
I gently folded the paper and put it back in the envelope. Trap or not, I had to find out. I put the envelope in my coat pocket and walked to my car.
After all, if this were a ruse to bring me out of hiding, why would she suggest we meet in a crowded place? The TJ I remembered would never allow innocent people to be put in jeopardy, even to get back at me.
As I got into my car, I felt a familiar heaviness in my loins, remembering the passion we’d shared so many months ago. I smiled, thinking I had not had another woman since TJ. If she were ready to forgive me, I would show her a night of passion like no other she’d ever known.
Twenty-eight
TJ sat at the table they’d picked for her rendezvous with Roger Niemann—if he showed up. She sipped a white wine and stared out the wall-to-wall windows of the nightclub that sat atop the Sheraton Plaza Hotel. The view was spectacular and encompassed the entire downtown area of New Orleans, but TJ she barely noticed the beautiful buildings on the horizon.
Matt and Sam were at a table in a far corner; they were close enough to intervene if it became necessary, but far enough away that Roger wouldn’t be able to see them in the semidarkness of the club. A man in a tuxedo sat at a nearby piano and was playing soft-rock tunes intermixed with old show tunes from the forties and fifties. The crowd present was older and less boisterous than some of the other nightspots in the French Quarter. It would be easy to have a private conversation with Roger when the time came.
The plan was simple. She would meet and greet Roger, hopefully establishing some trust during the first few minutes of their conversation. She planned to tell him about her treatment to reverse the Transformation, and if he were still interested in his own reversal, she would try to get him to agree to work with them on perfecting the treatment that would accomplish it.
If he seemed agreeable, she would give Matt and Sam and Shooter a signal; then they would join her and Roger to work out the details of their c
ollaboration.
Her hand shook and she almost spilled her wine when her cell phone rang. She flipped it open and Shooter spoke. “Hello, TJ?”
“Yes,” she said, her heart pounding in excitement.
“A man just approached the boat and read your message,” Shooter said.
“Was it Roger?” she asked, not knowing for sure if she hoped it was or wasn’t.
“I couldn’t tell,” Shooter replied. “I was too far away, but he’s in his car and seems to be headed for the hotel. I wanted to call and give you a heads-up that he was on the way.”
“Shooter,” she said in a low voice, “I’m scared.”
“I know, babe, me too. But I’ll be right behind him and we’ll make sure nothing happens.”
“OK. And Shooter,” she said after a pause.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he replied. “See ya soon.”
TJ closed the phone and glanced toward Sam and Matt’s table. They were watching her closely. She pointed at the phone and nodded her head, indicating Roger was on the way.
Sam smiled and gave her a thumbs-up signal, while Matt just looked worried.
TJ downed the rest of her wine and ordered another one, unable to keep her eyes off the doorway into the club.
She had almost finished her second glass of wine when she saw a tall, dark figure appear in the doorway. He stood there a moment as he let his eyes roam around the room, and TJ could feel a tickle in her mind as he let his mind search the room along with his eyes.
When his gaze stopped and fixed on her, TJ thought her heart was going to burst out of her chest. She swallowed to get rid of the lump in her throat and watched as he slowly made his way through the crowded tables to her.
He stood there, looking down at her, a small, quizzical smile on his lips. God, she thought, she’d forgotten how handsome he was.
“Hello, TJ,” he said in a low, husky voice. “May I sit down?” He seemed to exude a musky smell, like an animal in rutting season, and she realized he wanted her desperately.
She nodded, unable to speak as his eyes bored into hers. Suddenly the unexpected happened. She felt a wave of passion and lust begin in her gut and travel downward, leaving her sex wet and throbbing. She had no idea the sight and smell of him would affect her so strongly.
He pulled a chair out and sat down, his back to Matt and Sam’s table. As he raised his hand to order a drink from the waiter, TJ noticed Shooter ease his way into the room and join Matt and Sam at their table.
When the waiter appeared, Roger said, “Martell brandy, a double if you please.”
The waiter glanced at TJ’s glass and saw that it was almost empty. “Would the lady care for another wine?” he asked.
“Yes, please,” TJ said, her voice a croak in her nervousness.
Roger leaned forward, and TJ saw his nostrils dilate as he took in her scent. “God, how I’ve missed you,” he said, his obsidian eyes glittering in the candlelight of the room as he put his hand over hers.
It took every bit of willpower TJ had to pull her hand away, trying to ignore the hurt in his eyes as she did so.
“Roger, I didn’t ask you here to renew old acquaintanceship,” she said.
The waiter appeared and set their drinks on the table. Roger thanked him and took his brandy snifter in hand and leaned back, crossing his legs and swirling the dark fluid around in the glass as he inhaled its aroma.
He sighed. “Then why did you ask me here?” His voice sounded sorrowful.
“Because I need your help.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”
“I need your help to reverse what you did to me,” TJ said, unable to meet his gaze and staring into her wine.
His eyes narrowed and he took a deep swallow of his brandy. “I don’t know if that’s possible.”
TJ’s voice became more strident. “It must be!” she said forcefully. “You made me into this monster I’m becoming and you’ve got to help me stop it.”
His face paled at the force of her reply. “Do you hate me so much?” he asked.
TJ took a deep breath and drank her wine, trying to get control of her emotions as she thought about his question. Strangely, she found she felt no animosity toward him. “No,” she finally answered, looking into his eyes. “I can’t blame you for what you did any more than I blame a wild animal for doing what his nature forces him to do.”
Now Roger smiled, though with more sadness than humor. “I see.” He sipped his brandy, thinking about her reply. “You say you’re still becoming a monster. Does that mean the Transformation is not yet complete?”
“It’s a long story,” she said, “but the short answer is that my friends were able to reverse the changes temporarily with medication. However, the symptoms have begun to recur recently.”
“How far along are you in the Transformation?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, her face flushing with embarrassment.
“This is very important. Have you fed on human blood yet?”
She remembered the nights with Shooter and the feel and taste of his blood on her lips as they made love. “A little, I guess,” she finally answered.
He leaned forward and put his hand on hers again. “TJ, will you open your mind to me so that I may see for myself?”
“Is that necessary?”
“Yes. If I’m to determine how advanced the changes in your body are, I must examine your mind without interference.”
“Why do you need my permission?” she asked. “Can’t you just do it?”
He shook his head. “No. With Normals, I can enter their minds at will. They have no defense against it, but with other Vampyres, it’s a different matter. Vampyres have the ability to block their thoughts, even from members of their own race.”
She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. “Go ahead then.”
He stared at her and she felt him enter her mind. It was a pleasurable feeling, and her nipples became hard and her sex throbbed again at the feel of him inside her. It was everything she could do not to jump across the table and couple with him in wild abandon. She had never felt so close to anyone in her life.
After a moment, Roger smiled. She knew he could sense how she wanted him, and she could sense the same lust for her in him.
He glanced over his shoulder at the table where the others were sitting, staring at them. “You might as well ask your friends to join us,” he said.
“You knew they were there?” she asked, astounded at his powers.
“From the very beginning,” he answered. “But I could tell they meant no harm, so I decided to see why you’d asked me to join you after all these months.”
TJ waved at Shooter and Matt and Sam, indicating they should come over.
When they got there, Roger stood up and stuck out his hand to Shooter.
Shooter took it. “Roger Niemann, I presume?” he asked.
“No, actually. Roger Niemann died that night you attacked me in Houston. Now I’m known as Albert Nachtman.”
“I’m Shooter Kowolski, and this is Dr. Matt Carter and Dr. Samantha Scott.”
Albert nodded and gestured for them all to take a seat. “TJ has been telling me she wishes my help in reversing her Transformation,” Albert said. “Are you the ones who are working with her on this?”
“The doctors are,” Shooter said. “My presence is more . . . personal.”
“Ah, I see,” Albert said. His eyes went to the small bandage on Shooter’s neck and the other tiny healed wounds on the other side of his neck. His gaze turned to TJ and he asked, “Is this the one?”
TJ knew he was asking if Shooter was the one from whom she’d taken blood, and she nodded.
“The one what?” Shooter asked belligerently.
“Should I tell him, or will you?” Albert asked TJ, not unkindly.
“Roger—that is, Albert,” TJ began, her face turning bright red, “needed to determine ho
w far along my symptoms had gotten, so he asked me if I’d tasted human blood.” She dropped her eyes. “I told him I had.”
As she spoke, Shooter’s eyes dilated and his hand went unconsciously to the bandage.
Matt and Sam just stared at TJ as if their worst suspicions had been confirmed.
While they were preoccupied, Albert raised his hand and signaled the waiter to bring them another round.
They sat there in embarrassed silence until the drinks were delivered.
He picked up his brandy snifter and swirled it as he gave them an ironic smile. “I take it, since you’ve agreed to meet with a monster such as I and put your lives in jeopardy, you all care very much for TJ.”
Everyone at the table nodded. “Then I feel I must warn you that what you are attempting to help TJ do has never been done before, and it is very dangerous.”
“I don’t care!” TJ blurted. “I’d rather be dead than carry on like this.”
Albert gave her a sad smile. “I wasn’t only referring to danger to you, TJ. There are others of our species who consider the successful reversal of Transformation a danger to them and to their way of life. Working on such a process, if it comes to their attention, could put all of our lives in jeopardy.”
“But why?” Sam asked. “I would think that having a choice of whether to remain a Vampyre would appeal to everyone, even those who wish to remain as they are.”
Albert shrugged. “That is the logical way to think about it, Sam. And it is how I thought about it, until a Council of my own race in Houston attempted to kill me to prevent my work from succeeding.”
“What have they got to lose by having such a choice?” Matt asked.
“It is my feeling, they are afraid that the Normals would somehow find out about the existence of our race if such a process was available,” Albert said. He put his glass down and spoke earnestly. “You have to realize, even though we are very hard to kill, as you found out in Houston, Shooter, we are mortal. Our only protection from the Normals, who outnumber us a million to one, is the reluctance of your race to concede the existence of mine. Barely two hundred years have passed since people believed in us, and we were hunted then like wild animals. Hundreds of us were slaughtered before the Normals became too enlightened to believe in us.” He shook his head. “There are those among my race who fear the return of those days and will do anything to prevent its recurrence.”
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