by Мишель Роуэн
"Sold?" I squeaked. "You're joking, right?"
"No, I'm afraid not."
I felt a tight sensation building in my chest. I think it was panic. Or possibly a massive heart attack. "But… but it was ugly. Who would even want it?"
"Yes, the same, I suppose, could be said about my wife, and yet someone wanted her."
Hans took the chains and returned them to the cabinet before he locked it up again. "It was an odd situation. For a moment this afternoon I was quite sure that I was being robbed. The man came in and looked around. He approached the counter and pointed directly to the chain. I was almost ready to reach for the alarm when he produced a thousand dollars, asked me to give him the chain, and walked out without a receipt or a box."
I felt like throwing up. No. It couldn't have been sold. Who would buy something like that when there were a dozen other nicer chains in stock?
"I don't understand," I managed. "Why did you think you were being robbed?"
"The man wore a black scarf over his face that he didn't remove when he entered the store.
I thought he was a criminal and was very relieved when he wasn't."
A scarf over his face? My heart took a nosedive straight down to my shoes.
The Red Devil. He'd been the one to tell me about the necklace in the first place, indirectly anyhow. He'd bought it before I could get to it.
"Thank you for your time," Thierry said, and, taking me by my arm, directed me out of the store and into the cold night air.
"A thousand dollars?" Amy said. "It was worth a whole grand? And I totally sold it for fifty bucks. I could have got the diamond earrings instead of these imitation ones." She blinked. "Not that that's the issue here at the moment."
"Perhaps it isn't even the object you were searching for," Thierry said as he regarded my stunned expression.
"It was," I said. My voice sounded flat. "I know it was. And now the Red Devil has it."
"Then everything is going to be okay," George said with a big grin. "The Red Devil helps other vampires. He's obviously planning to give you the chain. What a hero!"
Maybe. I frowned. Maybe that was it. He would give it to me because he was a good guy.
But if that was the case, why did I still feel ill at the prospect that he'd beaten me to it?
And why hadn't he said anything earlier about having it?
And if he was really human and not vampire, what the hell was he doing pretending to be the Red Devil in the first place?
The whole thing smelled seriously fishy. And it wasn't just the fact that we were around the corner from the Toronto Fish Market.
I slept on the leather sofa in Thierry's office that night. I hadn't realized how exhausted I was until we got back. I did a few more shots of B-Positive and then felt the need to be alone. Thierry promised he would be close, but not too close.
I lay down, my thoughts racing like Seabiscuit on amphetamines, but the moment I closed my eyes I was out like a proverbial light.
And I did dream. Whether they were prophetic dreams was another matter. I was accepting an award—an Oscar for Best Actress, no less—and thanking all the little vampires who helped get me to where I was. There was a standing ovation. Roses rained upon the stage and I felt fantastic and elated and all of those good things. But then the roses turned into sharp wooden stakes hurtling toward me and there were too many and I couldn't get away. All of a sudden, Thierry was on the stage with me trying to protect me with his body, but that meant he was riddled with the stakes instead.
Another dream that ended with Thierry dying horribly.
Another dream that ended with me sitting bolt upright and screaming my head off.
Then there were hands on my arms, pushing me back down onto the sofa, and a cool hand stroked the hair back from my forehead.
"It's fine, Sarah," Thierry's deep voice soothed. "You're fine."
I blinked and the room came slowly into focus. "Sorry."
Thierry knelt at the side of the sofa. "Don't apologize. You were having a bad dream."
I let out a long breath. "Is that all this is? Just a bad dream. Thank God. I seriously thought I'd been cursed to be a nightwalker."
His dark brows drew together. "I'm afraid that isn't a dream."
"I know that. I'm just kidding."
"I'm glad to see that you can find the humor in the situation."
"Who said anything about humor?" I looked at him. His black shirt was unbuttoned at the top and his jacket was off. "Did you stay here the whole time I was asleep?"
"I thought it best. I didn't want to risk you wandering off in search of your Red Devil."
"No, wouldn't want that." I sighed and looked up into his silver eyes. "God, Thierry, why do you put up with me? I'm such a pain in the ass."
He frowned. "I believe that you're right. I should abandon you to fend for yourself in this, your time of greatest need."
"Are you trying to be funny again?"
"Perhaps."
"You should really leave that up to the professionals." I managed a smile. "I know I can be a pain. I know I make stupid mistakes at least fifty times a day. I know I fly off the handle and get into trouble like nobody's business. I just want you to know that I appreciate your putting up with me."
"As I appreciate your willingness to adapt to… my difficulties."
I met his gaze. "Difficulties, huh? Is that how we're putting it now?"
"Do you have another way?"
I touched his face. "I love you, Thierry. I just wish I'd stop having dreams that ended with you—" I stopped talking.
"Ended with me what?"
I shook my head. "It's nothing. Just stupid dreams."
"You dream about me?"
"Constantly."
"I'm very pleased to hear that." He stroked my hair back and tucked it behind my ear.
I frowned. "They're not always good dreams."
"You dream of my death?"
My eyes snapped back to his. "Yeah. Sometimes."
"Since you met me when I was about to end my life, this isn't an unusual dream to have.
Don't be concerned."
I blinked and felt tears begin to well. "You don't think about that anymore, do you? You haven't been scouting out any new bridges to throw yourself off? Because I seriously don't know what I'd do if I lost you."
He shook his head and gently pushed my few tears away with his thumb. "Thoughts of leaving this life have recently vanished completely from my mind. I now find myself newly inspired to wake up each morning. You have nothing to fear."
"Nothing to fear but fear itself."
He tilted his head to one side and a small smile appeared on his lips. "Oh, there is plenty to be afraid of, Sarah. I don't think you need me to make a list for you. But my suicide is no longer on that list."
"I'm very glad to hear it." I blinked and pressed my hand against the side of his face. "I really want to kiss you right now."
"That would be a mistake." He didn't move away from me.
"I know. But I still want to."
He traced his fingers over my lips and then took my hand in his. He brought it to his mouth to kiss it.
"That's a nice start," I breathed.
"Okay, break it up!" George shouted from behind Thierry. He clapped his hands. "Up and at 'em, Sarah. Chop chop."
Thierry didn't take his attention away from me. "I asked George to watch over you in case of emergency."
"You two are too close for comfort!" George continued. "I want to see some space. Back up, boss. Give our little nightwalker some air!"
"It's okay, George. Really. I'm feeling…" I blinked. How was I feeling?
A little cold and clammy, actually.
I pressed my hands against my face. Felt normal enough. But there was something off. I couldn't pinpoint it exactly.
I sucked in a breath of air. That felt okay, too.
Then I gasped. "It's my heart."
"What about it?"
I grabbed his hand and
pressed it against my chest.
"Hey, what did I say about getting too close?" George protested. "Am I going to have to separate the two of you naughty little monkeys?"
Thierry frowned deeply and looked into my eyes but said nothing.
"I don't have a heartbeat," I said. "What is the hell is going on here?"
Thierry nodded slowly. "A lack of a pulse is another trait of the nightwalker."
"A lack of a pulse? But that means that… that night-walkers are… are…"
"Undead."
"And regular vampires are the opposite."
"Yes."
I jumped to my feet and walked out of the office, brushing past George, who was looking at me with very wide eyes. Dammit.
I froze in place as I felt my heart begin to beat.
Once.
And then nothing.
"Oh, my God," I said aloud, and the panic started to let loose again.
Nobody was in Haven at the moment except for the three of us. The chairs were all up on top of the tables. The lights were off. I stood there, in the middle of the ceramic-tiled floor that resembled a whirlpool of blues and mauves, and felt as if it was sucking me down into the pit of despair. And no, I didn't think I was over-exaggerating at all. This was bad.
Really bad. I didn't have a heartbeat. My heart was not beating. There was nothing good about that. The metaphorical pessimistic glass of water wasn't even half empty anymore. It was bone dry.
"Okay," I said, and noticed that George and Thierry had followed me into the main area of the club. "Okay. I'm not going to freak out. There's still time left to fix this."
"What do you mean there's still time?" Thierry said. "Of course there's time."
I shook my head. "Stacy said that if the curse wasn't removed within three days from when she did it in the first place that it was sticking. Forever. But, it's morning now. We've got the better part of two days to take care of this, so I just need to think. I need to think about what to do next, especially since I can't go outside. It's not a cloudy day out there by any chance, is it? Of course it isn't. It's probably the brightest day of the year, with my luck."
George and Thierry exchanged a glance.
"I wish that you had told me about this timeline last night," Thierry said quietly.
"Why?" I looked at the clock above the bar. "It's 7:00 a.m. We've got all day to figure out where that skank is hiding out."
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sarah, but it isn't morning. You slept through the night and also through the daylight hours. Nightwalkers," he said it carefully, "often sleep through the day. They… thrive in darkness."
I swallowed hard. "You're kidding."
"I wish I was." His expression tightened. "But there is still time."
"Why didn't you wake me up?"
"I didn't want to disturb you. I didn't realize that time was an issue."
I felt as if I was in shock. The heart that let out one beat every other minute was also a bit distracting, to say the least. Like the gong that signified that my life was currently taking a long walk off a short pier into an ocean of crap.
I sniffed and ran my hand under my nose. "I think I'm actually room temperature right now." I blinked a couple of times and looked at Thierry. "You really still think everything's going to be all right?"
He nodded. "I have no doubt that it will be."
"You haven't figured out where Stacy lives yet, have you?"
"No. My sources have met with brick walls wherever they try. I believe she must be using some of her magic to help conceal her location. She obviously prefers to have the power solely in her hands."
"Did she call?" I asked hopefully.
"Not yet."
I began pacing to the bar and then back again. "She's a murderer, you know. She told me.
She didn't kill the people herself. But the curses she put on people have led to their deaths.
I think that's what she wants to do with me." I let out a shuddery breath. Weird that I still needed to breathe with a heart that didn't beat. Didn't all of that work together? I got a C in biology but some things are quite obviously not natural.
"I won't let that happen," Thierry said, and there was a strange fierce tone to his words.
He exhaled deeply. "I do have a suggestion."
"What?"
"Your friend, the other witch from the reunion. We must call her and have her come here.
Perhaps she can help us find Stacy. And when we find her, we will visit her personally."
Of course! I nodded quickly, ran to grab my purse, which currently had taken up residence behind the bar, and happily found the contact info Claire had given me. Without saying anything else I went to the phone and pecked in the numbers.
Claire answered on the sixth ring. My heart beat once in happiness.
I quickly explained the situation and gave her directions to Haven.
"Of course I'll come, Sarah," Claire said. "How exciting! I'll do a location spell. We'll find her. I'll be there in about two hours, okay?"
While I didn't agree with her assessment of the situation as "exciting," I did appreciate her willingness to come to assist with my problem.
I hung up the phone feeling nine parts hopeless and one part hopeful, but that one part was beginning to gain strength again, all things considered. Hope was a surprisingly durable emotion.
George approached me and patted me on the back. "I read your horoscope today. You do know that Scorpios are prone to lead exciting lives with loads of drama, right? Obviously everything is very normal. I believe your Mercury is also in retrograde. Or something like that. Not so sure what that means."
I sighed. "My Mercury has been in retrograde for so long I think it's still wearing bell bottoms."
He held out his arms. "Somebody needs a hug?"
I eyed him warily. "Since when have you become Mr. Touchy-Feely?"
"Ever since my last relationship ended. I'm all needy now. Humor me."
I glanced at Thierry, shook my head, and gave George a hug.
"I brought you a change of clothes," he told me. "I thought the new black jeans and smiley-face tank top would be a nice look. Put a positive fashion spin on this whole situation."
I clung to him. "Thank you."
George patted my back. "Feeling better?"
"Not really."
"Why not?"
I swallowed hard and dug my fingers into his shoulder blades. "In about five seconds I'm going to bite you. And I won't be able to control it. I suggest you step away."
He released me as if I had just sprouted sharp spikes.
I was breathing hard and the hunger welled within me like a living, breathing thing. I knew my eyes had gone from normal to black in no time flat because I saw the world differently.
Like a predator looking for her next meal. And the predator saw two worthy candidates to munch on at the moment.
"I need blood and I need it right now," I managed, even though I could barely speak past the fangs.
And I got the blood. From a keg. As much as I needed, which was good, because as sickening as it was to admit it, I needed a lot.
Not a good or safe way to feel right after one has just woken up…
Undead and unfed.
Chapter 15
I thought Claire would have her fiancé with her when she arrived. Even though humans weren't allowed in Haven, I was sure that Thierry would make an exception this one time.
But instead she brought a small dog, which looked more like a mangy mutt than any specific breed, on a harness leash.
He also wore a muzzle.
I nodded at the dog. "Is he friendly?"
She glanced at the dog. The dog glanced up at her. "Too friendly sometimes. Especially when checking out cute waitresses in Red Lobster."
"What's his name?"
"Reggie."
I frowned. "Isn't that your fiancé's name, too?"
Reggie growled at that.
Claire looked down at him sharply. "I sw
ear, if you try to say anything right now you are in even bigger trouble than you already are, mister. I'm mad at you."
The growl turned into a whimper that sounded vaguely like, "Ah ruvv yu, caaar."
She looked up at me. "Actually this is my fiancé. When he's been bad I use a transformation spell to turn him into an animal as punishment. He's been a rat, a weasel, a ferret—" she frowned "—are ferrets and weasels the same thing? Anyhow, he's been a snake, a small, hairy pig, and now a dog."
I blinked and waited for her to tell me she was just kidding, but she looked at me with complete sincerity.
Ten weeks ago I didn't believe in any of this stuff: vampires, witches, demons, you name it. Now, Claire was saying that she had used her knowledge of witchcraft to turn the man she planned to marry into a dog as a penalty for looking at other women?
Not my business. I had my own issues to deal with at the moment.
I looked down at Reggie. He looked up at me and wagged his tail.
O-kay.
Thierry had closed the club. It would not be open to the general vampire public tonight.
Which was a good thing, since we needed the space and privacy.
Tomorrow, Valentine's Day, would be the last night Haven opened for regular business with its current staff. After that, the new owners would move their people in. They'd probably even change the décor. Out with the old, and in with the new. I figured that the regular customers would keep on coming here despite the fact Thierry didn't own it anymore. Other than Haven, there was only one other vamp club in Toronto at the moment that I knew of. Four others had either shut down or been burned to the ground after the recent hunter blitz.
Butch stood guard near the door. I wasn't sure if it was to keep other people out or to keep me in. He wasn't currently speaking to me after my tossing him around Thierry's office last night like a bodyguard-shaped Beanie Baby, despite a sincere apology to him earlier. In fact, he wasn't even making eye contact with me anymore, not even to give me the evil eye.
But not because he was pissed. I think he might have been a little bit afraid of me now.