"Tell me their names, Raj,” she demanded unexpectedly, raising her head enough to give him a searching look. “The other women. Tony wouldn't tell me—"
Raj frowned. “Why do you need their names, Sarah?"
She choked out a harsh laugh and lowered her forehead to his chest. “Because I need to know whether or not I'm going crazy.” Her voice was muffled against his sweater, but he could hear the desperation in her voice. It troubled him more than it should have, but it made his decision easy.
"You know about Trish; she's been in the papers."
Sarah looked up at him in surprise, as if she hadn't expected him to answer her plea. She nodded.
"There are three other women, Estelle Edwards, Martha Polk and Regina Aiello."
Her face seemed to crumple, a sob escaping her lips, as she hid her face once more against his chest. “Regina,” she said softly. “I'm so sorry."
"Sorry for what, Sarah? Tell me what's going on."
"Nothing,” she said, stepping back from him to stand on her own, even as one hand stroked the front of his sweater, wiping away the wetness of her tears. “Regina's mother is someone I know. She's been worried, and when I heard about this case . . . I don't know what I'll tell her now."
She was lying again, damnit. “We need talk about this. Your place, now,” he said impatiently. “I'll follow you—"
"No.” She met his angry gaze, the gold flecks in her hazel eyes glinting in the street lights. “It's late,” she offered as an excuse. “I shouldn't have come at all. I don't know what I thought I'd find here."
Raj studied her silently, debating. She knew something, or thought she did. On the other hand, she hadn't even known the names of the missing women, beyond Trish Cowens, so whatever she thought she knew didn't get to the heart of whoever was doing this. Probably. And he still had to meet with Jozef tonight.
"All right,” he said, unsmiling. “Tomorrow night then."
She stared back at him, as if not quite trusting his easy surrender. “So we're good, right?"
Raj smiled then, a slow curving of his lips. “Oh, yes, Sarah. We're very good."
She backed several steps away from him, retreating as she would have from a dangerous animal, as if she was worried he would suddenly leap upon her and ravage her right here on this cold, Buffalo street. The thought kept him amused as she turned finally and hurried to her car.
She passed him when she drove away, giving a little wave through her open window. Raj smiled. And when she was gone, he punched a speed dial number.
"My lord,” Emelie answered instantly. “How may I serve you?"
Raj winced. He hated that formal vampire shit and Em knew it. She only fell back on the formalities if she was pissed at him, or if someone else was listening. And he couldn't think of anything he'd done to piss her off lately. “Get rid of whoever it is, Em. We need to talk."
"Yes, my lord."
Raj waited, listening as Em moved herself, rather than asking the others to leave. He could hear her steady breathing as she walked, a door opening and closing and then another. “Okay,” she said in a far more casual tone. “I'm in the office. What's up, boss?"
"Congratulations,” he said dryly. “You win. Get some of my people up here. Not an army, not yet anyway. Just some back up. And no one but my own children, people I can trust absolutely."
"Yes,” she breathed in obvious relief. “We're ready to go, my lord. I put out a heads-up right after you left, just in case. If we leave immediately, we can be there before dawn."
"Tomorrow night's soon enough. There's nothing specific yet, but there's a possibility someone from out—of-town is moving in on Krystof and I'm not going to let that happen."
"Only give the word, my lord."
"What would I do without you, Em?"
"You'd manage. Not as well, of course,” she added. “But you'd manage."
"Thanks. One more thing, Em. I want to know everything we've got on the woman who visited Manhattan with Raphael and his mate last week . . . Sarah Stratton. Put Simon on it and tell him to go deep. I already know she teaches at the university here in Buffalo, so that's a place to start, but I want everything Simon can find. If he needs a picture, she should be on the security video from the club."
"Okay,” Em said slowly. “You picking up stray kittens again, boss?"
Raj laughed. Her curiosity was fairly burning through the ether, but Raj didn't feel like saying anything more. Not yet.
"I'll talk to you later, Em,” he said, ignoring her question. He disconnected the call, pocketed his phone and opened the car door, sliding into the comfortable interior. As he drove away in the opposite direction Sarah had taken, he thought about stray kittens and about Emelie. She was always telling him he had a weakness for damsels in distress. And she should know, since the damsel he'd rescued once upon a time had been Emelie herself.
Albany, New York 1918
Raj strolled down the darkened street, drinking in the excitement, the fear. The United States was at war. Men were lining up to go fight in Europe, seeking a glory in battle that would never be found on the streets of their hometowns. Raj could have warned them. Could have told them there was nothing exciting about the stink of a battlefield, the blood and excrement, the screams of your friends dying all around you while you could do nothing but fight to save your own miserable life. But he said nothing. They wouldn't have listened anyway.
Eager young men roamed the streets of Albany, drunk for the most part, enjoying a final fling before Uncle Sam sent them out to become soldiers. By tomorrow, they'd be regretting this last night of indulgence—when their heads were throbbing, their stomachs rebelling, and they were stuck on a hot, crowded bus for the journey to some dismal boot camp.
But for some of them, most of them probably, tonight was their first real taste of freedom, their first time away from the family farm, the small town scrutiny. Fights were common, but the police paid little attention, recognizing the futility of trying to bring order to a chaos that would dissipate itself in a day or two anyway. And as long as the new recruits limited themselves to pounding on each other, no one cared.
He turned away from the main boulevard, seeking the side streets, the dark alleys where fledgling soldiers could be found sleeping or passed out. Either way they were a quick, easy meal for a hungry vampire.
The noise of a crowd drew his attention to what should have been a quiet side street. A rowdy group of men had gathered, shouting encouragements and threats. Yet another fist fight, no doubt. Raj almost turned away. There was nothing for him in these squabbles. But something made him turn back and take a second look. It wasn't the words the men were shouting; he could barely make those out. But the taunts carried a raw brutality, a gutter meanness that burned against his senses. Raj frowned, pushing his way through the crowd until he drew close enough to see what was going on over the shoulders of others.
He swore viciously and shoved the rest of the way forward with a purpose, tossing bodies aside in his fury. A young woman lay at the heart of the circle, half-naked, bloody and beaten, her latest rapist grunting between her legs. Raj kicked out, his thick boot breaking ribs with a resounding crunch. The man screamed as he flew through the air, the noise cut off with a choked gurgle when he hit a nearby wall.
Raj crouched and spun, ready to fight, mouth open, fangs fully displayed, seeing the faint gleam of blue as his Vampire-enhanced eyes burned ice-cold with rage.
Young men who moments earlier had been full of bravado at the prospect of raping a helpless woman fled before the wrath of Vampire. Screams faded down the alley as they ran, trampling each other in their hurry to escape. To one side, the injured rapist was struggling to crawl away, whimpering wordlessly. Raj took a step forward, intending to drain him dry, to ensure he never again brutalized a helpless woman, but from behind him came a small, lost sound.
He turned back toward the woman. She'd curled in on herself, thin fingers struggling to pull the tatters of her clothing around
her battered body, to cover her nakedness. He whipped off his jacket and covered her, careful not to touch her, letting her grasp the ends of the fabric to her chest as she shook silently.
"Let me help you, child,” he said softly. His voice was deep and melodic, the same voice he used to seduce the unwary, to persuade the unsuspecting to open their veins for him. She stilled, trembling like a small animal beneath the gaze of a predator, refusing to look at him, as if that would somehow save her.
"Do you have family?” he asked.
She started crying then, quiet sobs that racked her entire body. Raj wanted to reassure her, to tell her he could make it all go away. His blood might not be as strong as that of his master, Lord Krystof, and she was very badly injured, but he was Vampire nonetheless. And his blood was stronger than most, strong enough to heal her injuries, strong enough that he could wipe this night from her mind, make it as if it had never happened. But in her present state, she wouldn't have heard him, much less believed something so fantastic.
"Let me help you,” he repeated instead. He laid a single, gentle hand on her back, wincing as she jerked away from his touch, her cries finally finding voice as she grew more frantic.
He sighed. The last thing she needed was a man's hands on her, but the sun was rising and he had to get inside. “I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he said. He scooped her up easily, silencing her cries with a quick, mental jab that stole her consciousness and left her limp in his arms. It was crude but effective, and time was running out.
As he sped down the side streets toward his hideaway, racing the sun, he thought to wonder what he was going to do with her now that he'd saved her.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Sixteen
Buffalo, New York, present day
Raj pulled into the curb near Krystof's and turned off the engine, climbing out of the car to lean against its warmth in the chilly, early morning, waiting for Jozef to appear. He sometimes thought about the men who'd attacked Emelie all those years ago. They'd been ordinary men—sons, fathers and brothers. Some of them had no doubt died in the war. Others would have come home, raised families and grown old. One way or another, they were almost certainly dead by now. Had they ever remembered that night in the alley? Had they ever watched their own daughters grow and been ashamed of what they'd done? There were people who called him a monster, people who would have wiped out every vampire on Earth. But did they ever look at their own neighbors and wonder?
He looked up as the front door opened on silent hinges. A deeper shadow resolved into Jozef's bulk, reminding Raj that Jozef too possessed the power to manipulate shadow if he chose. But Jozef wasn't the assailant. Raj dismissed that idea almost as soon as it occurred. Jozef was powerful enough, but it took intelligence and discipline to climb high in the vampire hierarchy. And that's where Jozef fell short. He was the perfect tool—reliable but completely without imagination. It was both an asset and a weakness in a security chief. He would never stage a rebellion, but he might not see someone else's rebellion coming either. In Raj's estimation, no one knew this better than Jozef himself. He had a good position here with Krystof and a vested interest in keeping it that way. The security chief passed between the twinkling lights along the front walk, cutting across the yard, making directly for him.
"Raj,” Jozef said when he got close enough. “It's been awhile since you visited Buffalo."
Raj smiled to himself. Like Krystof, Jozef preferred it when Raj was far away from the city. He shrugged carelessly. “The old man doesn't like me around, and I'm content with Manhattan."
Jozef raised his eyes to meet Raj's. “So how can I help you?"
Help me get back to Manhattan, Raj thought, smiling. “I see a lot of new faces,” he said.
The other vampire didn't respond immediately, turning to gaze up the street instead. Raj didn't hurry him. If Jozef wanted Raj gone, this was the best way to make that happen. Eventually, his mind would work around to that conclusion. In the meantime, Raj waited.
"Too many new faces,” Jozef said abruptly. “Krystof's turning five, sometimes ten a month, and every one of them's as stupid as that idiot Morales,” Jozef continued.
"An army?” Raj asked sharply.
"Cannon fodder more likely, but against what threat? None that I know of."
Raj considered this in light of his suspicions. “Any new vamps move into the area? Anyone who's strong enough to challenge Krystof?"
Jozef barked a laugh. “Other than you, you mean?"
"It can't be me he's worried about. I've given him no reason.” Yet, he added to himself. “I'm talking about someone else, an outsider. Maybe someone in town unofficially."
Jozef's gaze sharpened. “You know something I don't?"
Raj shrugged and said, “I went by the house where Cowens's daughter was taken last weekend. The sign was old, but there had been someone there. Someone strong enough to stalk his prey undetected on an empty street."
Jozef stiffened. “If Krystof thought someone was poaching, someone who could do what you say, I'd have heard about it. You know how he is. If there was any real danger, he'd be shoving everyone he could find between him and the threat.” He paused, making the connection. “You think that might be what this is? Why he's got all this new meat hanging around? But why not tell me about it?"
Now that was a good question. Krystof understood Jozef's limitations every bit as well as Raj did, which was why he kept Jozef close and Raj far away. But if the vampire lord truly was falling into senility, he might not be thinking as logically as he once did. Raj scraped his fingers back through his hair in frustration. Damn that old man.
"Okay, look, I'm going to talk to some people about these missing women. Witnesses, family members, the usual. I will find whoever's doing this, and if it's one of us, I'll make him go away.” He paused thoughtfully, remembering that too sweet cologne. “Or her."
Jozef's head came up. “Her? You think it's a woman?"
"No, I don't. But I can't rule it out either,” he added, thinking of Emelie—not as a suspect, but as an example. Like humans, female vampires were generally weaker than their male counterparts, but if the vampire had enough power, physical strength became less important, especially if the victim was a little girl like Patricia Cowens.
Jozef frowned, as if trying to wrap his mind around the idea. “Are the cops really letting you in on their investigation?"
"No, they're not. They pretty much just wanted to go through the motions so they could say they'd tried. But I don't need their permission to ask questions.” He started to say something about Sarah, but changed his mind. He might not trust her right now—she was definitely keeping something from him—but he still wanted to keep her as far away as possible from Krystof and his clowns.
Frowning, he tossed his keys up and caught them. “I've got to go. You stay in touch, Jozef."
He spun around without waiting for Jozef's reply, walked around the car and opened the driver's door. By the time he was pulling away from the curb, the other vampire was already gone and Raj was wondering why the very idea of another vampire coming anywhere near Sarah made his hackles rise.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Seventeen
Sarah struggled to keep her eyes open the next day, listening with only half an ear as the faculty meeting droned on. She'd gotten little sleep last night, partly because she was afraid the dreams would come back. The other part was because she'd tossed and turned like a silly teenager, thinking about Raj and slow, soft kisses. She told herself it was just because she hadn't had a serious relationship with a man in a very long time. Not since college, and even then it hadn't been really serious. She'd learned early on to avoid close friendships, because questions always got asked about the past, about where she grew up, where her family lived. The kind of questions Sarah didn't have good answers for. Cyn had been an exception to the rule, because simply put, Cyn didn't pry. And now, of course, there was her new friend, the incredibly s
exy Raj.
She remembered a professor she'd had in graduate school. He'd been born in Poland before the war, had survived the destruction of his small Jewish village, the obliteration of everyone and everything he knew, not only his entire family—although that was horrific enough—but of an entire way of life. She'd been his teaching assistant for a year and had spent a lot of time with him, drinking tea and listening to his stories of a world that was gone forever. He'd told her all sorts of things, but what she recalled now was a bit of wisdom from the old country. She'd never mastered the Polish words; it was a difficult language and one you could study for years and still not get the nuances right. But a rough translation had been something like, “For every monster, there's a monster to love him."
Maybe that's what she saw in Raj. They were both monsters of a sort, freaks in a world of people who went about their lives, never having to worry about dreams of tortured women or . . . well, whatever it was vampires worried about. Blood, she supposed, and where to get it.
She became aware of movement around her and realized the meeting was breaking up at last. Across the table, the Department Chairman was giving her an odd look, and she tried to look thoughtful and scholarly, instead of bored, as she gathered up her papers and shoved them into her oversized purse. She must have succeeded because he gave her a short, approving nod before joining a group of the more senior, i.e., male, department members who would now troop over to the nearest bar and drink themselves into a stupor. One thing she'd noticed right away about academics. They drank a lot. At least the older ones did. And who knew? A few more years of these meetings and she might be drinking a lot too.
She started for the elevator with everyone else, but a glance at her watch sent her racing for the stairs instead. She wanted to shower and change before tonight. She might be a monster, but that didn't mean she had to look or smell like one.
Rajmund Page 11