Grave Expectations - Jess Vandermire 4

by Lina Gardiner

  Sampson looked up and shook his head. “She’s gone. I’m sorry,” he said in a professional voice that was more from shock than anything else. Britt knew how much Sampson cared for Jess.

  Britt’s legs buckled and he dropped to the floor beside her, pulling her body onto his lap. He cradled her head against his heart while Sampson checked over the man whose vampire features had completely disappeared.

  As if in a dream, where pain reigned supreme, Jess was dead in his arms and the vampire had become a human again. Britt stared at the man. He didn’t recognize him, but his features were unusually swollen and bruised. If he was breathing, it was hard to tell.

  Britt pressed his face into Jess’s hair and kissed her head. He couldn’t blame the vampire for Jess’s death. He blamed himself. It was his fucking blue light that did this to her, just as he always knew it would.

  Regent knelt next to them. Taking Jess’s limp hand in his, he started praying for her immortal soul.

  Sampson pressed two fingers on the man’s carotid artery. He tried again and waited. After what seemed like forever, he said, “He’s alive.”

  “Thank God!” Vasilli shouted. “Oh, thank God!”

  “We’re so glad you’re happy,” Britt said, glaring at Vasilli. Only then was he able to shake himself back to the here and now. It took the bastard’s selfishness to remind him that he was still alive and Jess would want him to carry through with this thing to the end.

  But didn’t “Cardinal” Vasilli see that he and Regent had lost a loved one and guess that they might be upset by his obvious glee?

  Hell, yes, they’d done this to save the world from the monstrous vampire. But they’d both lost Jess in the process. Life would never be the same again.

  “Sampson, should we call an ambulance for this man?” Regent asked, after finishing his prayers and squeezing Britt’s shoulder in comfort. Obviously struggling against his grief, only a man like Regent could do his duty at a time like this.

  “No. I don’t think we should,” Sampson said. ‘Who knows what they might see in his blood right now? I can take him back to my lab, see that he gets fluids via IV, and check his blood for foreign antibodies, etc.”

  Vasilli dropped to his knees near the unconscious man. “I pray to you Lord, heal your servant. Make him whole again and renew his strength.”

  The man’s body remained still, maybe because Vasilli’s prayers held no strength. Britt squeezed Jess tighter to him.

  “Is he really healed? Maybe he’s still a vampire,” Fisk said, rubbing a hand over his chalky face.

  Britt hadn’t even realized he’d woken.

  “Where’s my blade? Shouldn’t it still be buried in his chest?”

  Where had the blade gone? Britt visually checked the guy’s chest. The wound had disappeared and his skin looked like it had never been touched.

  Sampson nodded severely. “It’s gone. And the wound is gone, too.”

  “How can that be?” Fisk wailed. “I need that blade. I can’t have lost it.”

  “Are you sure it was yours to lose?” Regent asked calmly, glancing at Jess’s dead body and closing his eyes for a moment. “It seemed to me that blade had an agenda of its own.”

  “I agree with Regent,” Britt said. “The blade was sentient somehow. It wanted to be used to heal this man.”

  “If he is alive. Who the hell is he, anyway?” Fisk demanded of Vasilli. “And don’t think you’re going to leave here without telling us, because I, for one, am not about to let that happen. Especially if my blade is gone. Britt, are you with me?”

  Britt stared at Jess’s perfect face. Her full lips and her long eyelashes. His heart felt five pounds heavier, but inside his head, he imagined Jess reminding him again to complete this mission. To do that, he had to put her down and finish what they’d started. He was a cop, and he had a job to do.

  He carefully adjusted Jess’s head and stretched her out on the floor. He’d have to ignore the bloodstains and the dirt, because there was no place in the room any cleaner.

  He stood and walked over to the unconscious man, whose chest had begun to move in a normal breathing rhythm.

  Vasilli continued to hover over the man.

  “Who is he, Vasilli? We need to know. Especially if he’s going to make it. We can’t just let him walk out of here without a damned good reason.”

  Vasilli looked heavenward and closed his eyes for a moment, then flashed them a vicious glare. “Damn you! He is someone you and Fisk should have recognized. He is the last original Fallen. Uriel.”

  “Not possible,” Fisk said quickly. “How could a Fallen become a vampire?”

  Ignoring Fisk’s comment, Vasilli continued, “We thought all the Fallen were gone, but Uriel has always been working behind the scenes, keeping governments from going to war. Keeping countries from attacking each other. His strengths as a peacekeeper were boundless. Without him, we would have most likely annihilated ourselves.”

  “Holy hell,” Britt said.

  “We need him as a gatekeeper. He protects us from the darkest evils.”

  Britt frowned. So Dom knew about all of this too. The word gatekeeper just proved that.

  “How did he become a vampire?” Regent asked.

  “I don’t have the whole story. When I met him, he was on a downward spiral. At first, he had some moments of lucidity. The most I could garner was that a vampire had attacked him during his prayer vigil and somehow, his strengths became melded with the evil from the vampire. After that, they began to grow exponentially.”

  “If he wakes, we can ask him,” Regent said, staring at the man who’d precipitated his sister’s death.

  Just then, Uriel moved. He groaned and his eyes opened, then shut tightly again. “My head hurts,” he said, putting a hand on his forehead.

  “May I get you something for pain?” Vasilli asked with the utmost reverence, then leaned back onto the balls of his feet to rise. He snapped his fingers for two soldiers. They scurried out of the room in search of painkillers.

  The man turned his head and, with blue eyes so vibrant they practically glowed, he looked from one person to the other in the room. It was when he sat up that he noticed Jess’s body on the floor nearby. A sad expression crossed his face.

  “I’m remembering now,” he said with a deep sigh. “I remember everything.”

  He tore his gaze from Jess and monitored the room itself. It had become a refuse dump of blood bags and torn bedding. The stench was nearly unbearable.

  But something about this man felt right to Britt. Could he really be their ancient ancestor, still alive? Britt’s gut reacted. Is that why Jess chose to die for him? Because she’d sensed his heavenly presence?

  Britt’s throat tightened. Yes, Jess would do that. She might have been a vampire for decades, but she’d never forsaken her beliefs, even though she couldn’t practice them. She’d been an amazing woman.

  A hot tear worked its way down his cheek, and then another. He dropped to his knees beside her again and buried his face in her neck. “Don’t leave me, Jess. Don’t do this to me.”

  A hand touched his shoulder. He assumed it was Regent. He hated to torture Regent by baring his grief for everyone to see, but damn it, he couldn’t stop himself. The love of his life was gone. She couldn’t be dead.

  The hand squeezed again and Britt felt a frisson of electricity at the spot. He glanced up and his tears halted. Uriel looked into his eyes, his face so peaceful and so compassionate. He helped Britt to his feet by supporting his elbow, then escorted him to Regent’s side.

  Next, he touched Regent’s hand and lowered his head for a moment. It was as if he’d just listened in on their lives from the time they’d been born.

  He nodded to the two men. “She is worthy of everything you believe of her,” he said.

  Regent nodded and crossed himself. “She was.”

  Meanwhile Vasilli was scrabbling around the room, following Uriel around as if just being near the Fallen on
e would give him power. The guy was a veritable leech on legs.

  But Britt couldn’t even despise Vasilli for his actions right now. Somehow, Uriel had implanted peace in his heart. Britt couldn’t grieve for Jess. He didn’t feel her loss. And in the back of his mind, he thought it was wrong and this numbed sense would wear off like a painkiller before the day was over. But for now, he’d been given the gift of peace. When he looked at Regent’s face, he realized Uriel had done the same for him.

  Sampson stepped away from Jess when Uriel approached her body. Everyone in the room must have felt his magnificence and his authority. He started to kneel next to Jess, with Vasilli close behind him, intending to kneel next to her too. But Uriel stopped him with a hand in the air.

  “You must wait for me outside, signore,” he said. “Prepare your men to return home as soon as possible. You’ve done your job, and you’ll be commended for it.”

  Vasilli didn’t seem to be gratified by Uriel’s words. He obviously hadn’t been given the peace of mind that Britt and Regent had. Even Sampson was frowning at them like they’d lost their minds.

  Uriel waited for Vasilli to reluctantly leave before he leaned over Jess and touched her between the eyes. He lowered his head and muttered something under his breath. Blue light glowed under his finger for a second, then disappeared into her. He repeated the procedure over her heart.

  Nothing happened. She didn’t awaken.

  She was truly gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “AT LEAST LET’S get her out of this filthy room,” Britt said, bending down and picking up Jess’s lifeless form. He carried her reverently toward the stairs while everyone else followed. A veritable funeral procession.

  She’d loved Regent’s leather sofa, so he placed her gently down with a pillow under her head.

  He couldn’t stop looking at her. Was this how she’d felt when he’d died? No wonder she’d been so afraid for him.

  “We can’t keep her here,” Regent said. “She’ll have to be taken …” He glanced at Sampson.

  Britt’s heart lurched and his gut twisted. No way in hell would Jess end up on a slab in her own vampire morgue. No goddamned way!

  “I can’t believe I’m saying she can’t stay here. Has anyone else noticed that Jess is still in her vampire form? If anyone entered the rectory and saw her …” Regent covered his head with his hands and closed his eyes.

  “She’s beautiful in either form,” Britt said, between his teeth.

  “We’ll take her to her penthouse,” Regent said. The steel behind his words meant business, and everyone looked at him sharply, as if worried about his sanity. He held up a hand to calm them. “I’m fine. We can have Jess prepared for burial, but only after three days of mourning.”

  Uriel stayed with them. He didn’t speak often, but his presence seemed to give them comfort and help them through the pain of Jess’s death. The pain remained, but it had been muted enough that they could function and do what they needed to do. Maybe it was just shock.

  Before the sun rose, they transported Jess to her penthouse. Britt took her into her room and settled her onto her bed. He spread her hair out, and brushed his hand over the side of her face. He leaned over and kissed her lips. If only he hadn’t kept her at arm’s length since his transformation. She’d wanted him to love her, and he’d been too afraid.

  After sitting with her for a while, he met the other men in her living room.

  Uriel didn’t sit. Instead, he wandered around Jess’s home, looking at her belongings.

  Britt’s feeling of calm was wearing off, and Regent had started to look a little more worn around the edges, too.

  Vasilli hadn’t come with them. On Uriel’s orders, he’d stayed behind with his soldiers to clean up the rectory, before they prepared themselves to leave. If Vasilli’s expression meant anything, he’d been royally pissed. No doubt, he wanted the glory of returning the angel to Rome.

  They had three days of mourning to endure here in Jess’s apartment. Time passed and the sun rose. Light filtered into the living room, with only Jess’s bunker completely dark. She would have wanted things to be as normal as possible for them.

  Uriel stood in the window and looked like he was absorbing every bit of warmth and light he could. In fact, Britt thought he almost glowed a little. His grief had left him delusional, obviously.

  By midmorning, Uriel turned to them. “I’m hungry,” he said, and talk in the room stopped instantly. They turned to gape at the man, afraid that he was craving blood again.

  “Can we order a pizza this early in the day?”

  Regent laughed first. Then everyone followed. Uriel looked confused.

  “I’m sorry,” Regent said. “We thought maybe you were hungry for blood again.”

  Realization lit Uriel’s bluest-of-blue eyes. “I’m no longer a vampire. You can rest easy on that front.” He smiled and the sunlight came out all over again. Everyone relaxed just a little more. The swelling had lessened on his face considerably, and he was starting to look more and more familiar to Britt.

  “Wait a minute. Don’t I know you?” he asked finally. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he’d met this man before. He forced his brain to think back. Then, like a dam bursting inside his head, he knew. “Zeke! You were at the monastery. You helped bring me back from death.”

  Uriel nodded.

  “Zeke?” Regent said. “Jess told me about him.”

  Uriel grinned. “It’s an alias I use, Father. I can’t announce myself as Uriel to the world. Especially since it’s not exactly a common name these days.”

  “I’ve waited long enough to ask this question. I can’t wait any longer.” Fisk stood. He looked edgy, jumpy. “My blade?”

  “Not yours, but mine, I’m afraid,” Uriel said. He touched the island counter and a full-length sword appeared on its surface. “Without my sword, I most likely would have been lost to perdition.”

  “How did you become a vampire, if you don’t mind me asking?” Regent asked in his most kind voice.

  Uriel’s eyes darkened for just a second, and it was as if the war of the worlds waged behind those irises. “I gave up hope for a brief time. I thought I was alone.” He glanced at Britt and Fisk. “It was a feeling your friend, Jess, never had to experience. I didn’t think I could go on without the contact of my brethren. I’d been alone so long that I lost myself, just long enough for evil to win. In the process, they took my sword.”

  “But, I’ve had your sword for years,” Fisk said.

  Uriel nodded. “It was at least two decades ago that I became infected. Maybe longer. They told me the sword was stolen when they transported me to Rome. I’m not sure how it ended up in your hands, but it would always seek out another Grigoroi if it couldn’t find me. Apparently, it found its way to you.” He paused. “May I ask your name?”

  “My name is Malcolm Fisk,” he said. “And John Brittain is like me, too. But I’m sure you know that already.”

  Uriel turned to Britt and nodded his head in a greeting. “Mr. Brittain.”

  “Call me Britt. And this is Regent, Father Vandermire.”

  He nodded again. “I am well aware of Father Vandermire and his sister. I was able to retain some knowledge in my more conscious moments.”

  Fisk narrowed his gaze on Uriel. “How did the church keep you fed for years?”

  Uriel looked embarrassed. “The church managed to keep me in some sort of stasis until they heard of Father Vandermire’s abilities with vampires. It was then that they risked awakening me and sending me here to New York. I’m afraid all of those the years asleep left me terribly hungry.” He shook his head. “Thank God they managed to keep me fed so that I didn’t take a life. If I had done that, I could never have returned to who I really am.”

  Britt turned quickly to Uriel. “But your memories flooded into me at the rectory. They were full of horrors. Killing, taking blood.”

  “It was my penance to pay. I carried the m
emories of all vampires, everywhere. I had to hold out against that kind of corruption. I would have failed without you.”

  “But you were at the monastery,” Britt continued, frowning.

  “Not my body. My essence reached out to you. Even while my body was racked deeply by vampiric torment, my mind transported itself to you. I couldn’t lose another of our kind, not since I’d only just learned from the church that you existed.”

  “But you seemed real. I thought you touched me.”

  “My mind convinced your mind. My corporeal body wasn’t there.”

  “Amazing,” Regent said in a low voice.

  “I was also able to connect with Jess Vandermire,” he said. Uriel seemed equally impressed by that. “It was the knowledge that you existed, Mr. Brittain, that gave me the strength to fight the virulent strain forcing my body into torment, even while in stasis. Because of the knowledge of you, I managed to keep my soul from being tainted completely.”

  “I hate to interrupt,” Fisk said moving closer to the sword on the counter, a hungry look in his eyes. “But I need that sword. It is mine. I found it.”

  “It found you, Mr. Fisk. It chooses who it aligns with. Surely you realized it had a consciousness that you couldn’t manipulate?”

  Fisk fidgeted. There was no doubt the man was in trouble. He had a horde of vampires who were draining the energy from him. But without the blade to renew him, he’d have to close up shop and maybe go into a sort of vampire witness protection plan. Britt grinned. It might be a good thing.

  And, he knew just the man who could help with that—his old friend Griz. He’d been part of their vampire hunting team, but he’d left a year ago and headed for South America in order to free himself of vampires forever.

  He’d managed to virtually disappear off the grid. Only he and Jess knew where Griz had gone.

  While they discussed how Uriel had interacted with Jess and Britt in spirit only, Regent got up and wandered down the hall to Jess’s room.