Blood Red Dawn

by Karen E. Taylor

  “Yeah, I know. Do you want me to come up? I could make the elevator without too much damage, I guess.”

  The sound of crying stopped. “No, I think we’ll be okay. Get some rest and I’ll see that Vivienne does the same.”

  “And you? When will you rest?”

  I sighed. How could I rest? Ever again? “At some point, Claude. Don’t worry about me. And lock your door. They’ve not managed to catch Maggie and she may come back to score a few more.”

  “Yeah.” His voice sounded grim. “But if she screws with me, I suspect she’ll find her match.” He snickered in his typical self-depreciating way. “She’d need a damn long knife to hit anything vital on me.”

  Viv came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a short velvet robe, her eyes and her skin glowing bright red. “Vivienne is here now, Claude. I need to go.”

  He paused. “Yeah. Um, give her my condolences, won’t you? And tell her,” his voice grew warmer, “tell her that she needn’t fear for her own life. I’d do anything in my power to keep her well and safe.”

  Vivienne held her hand out for the phone. “Claude, mon petit chou? You are not to worry, I am safe with Mitch. And we shall find that chienne foutue, Maggie, and she will pay with her blood. Sleep well, mon ami, with dreams of revenge.” She hung up the phone and stood for a while, staring at the bed.

  “I have no more tears, Mitch, but I do not think I will be able to sleep without him. Could you stay?”

  “Of course,” I said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and patting the other side. “Slide in here and I’ll keep you safe.”

  Vivienne slipped out of her robe and under the covers. I lay on the outside of the covers, fully dressed. I didn’t dare do anything else. She had always been an entrancing woman and the desire to comfort her and myself, to lose our sorrow in each other was too tempting. And would have been wrong even had my heart and my love not belonged to someone else, most especially wrong when the very air reeked of the odor of Sam’s blood. She snuggled up against me and even through the covers and my clothes I could feel the exciting tingle of her naked skin next to mine. I sighed. It was going to be a long day.

  Eventually I relaxed and leaned into her, cradling her head against my arm, brushing her fine, soft blond hair away from her face. She whimpered in her sleep and whispered words of despair in a language I couldn’t understand. It didn’t matter, I knew what she was feeling. I felt it too. “Hush,” I said, rocking her gently in my arms, “hush. He will live on in our hearts.”

  A sad smile crossed her face in sleep and she whispered his name back to me. When she finally lay quietly I knew that she’d fallen into the deep daytime sleep of the vampire. I did not allow myself the luxury, choosing instead to lie on my back and stare at the ceiling, unable to shut off my mind which raced here and there and back again, unearthing unthinkable events and worrying over them like a dog with a bone.

  I called to the Wolf from the back of my mind, and he arrived, panting and impatient, tongue lolling with the delight of running. He had no words for sorrow, no need for regret. The remaining hours of the day I spent retreating into his consciousness, if not his shape, and once again ran the wilds of the moors outside Whitby, the Cat by my side.

  Sunset came and a soft, tentative knock on the door jolted me back to the present and the hard hotel mattress. I shot out of bed and put a hand on the doorknob, muscles flexed and ready to throttle her should she attempt to enter. And this time I wouldn’t let my feelings of pity for her stop me, I would stand strong and do what needed to be done. Taking a deep breath, I poised myself for attack, hesitating only one second to look out the peep hole to ascertain the identity of my prey.

  Instead of flinging the door open and lunging, I began to laugh, waking Vivienne from her sleep of the undead. “What is it, mon gars?”

  My hands fumbled with the lock. I couldn’t get the door opened fast enough.

  The next thing I knew Deirdre was in my arms again, and I breathed a sigh of relief and joy, kissing her so long and hard it stole my breath away. And hers as well.

  She reached up and softly touched my cheek, her eyes welling up with tears. “Hi, honey,” she said, softly. “I’m home.”

  “So I see,” I said. “What took you so long?”

  Chapter 26

  Vivienne squealed with delight and I stood away from Deirdre so that they could greet each other.

  “Are you cured?” Vivienne asked. “And how did you get here? The sun is just now setting. Were you here in the hotel all along?”

  “Victor brought me here,” she said, “and yes, I’m cured. Or at least I’ve been given my memories back. Apparently the poisons have some far-reaching effects. But we don’t need to speak of that now. Where’s Sam? And Claude and Chris and all the rest of them. I have some news.”

  “Sit down, love,” I said. She looked so fragile, so pale, seeming to have lost some of her spark. No wonder, I thought, she’s been through a lot. As we all have. I stole a glance at Vivienne and caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror. To say which of us looked worse would be difficult. She gave me a questioning look. “Sit down,” I said again, “we have news, too. And I think we’d better tell ours first.”

  Deirdre’s eyes darted from me to Viv and back again to me. Biting her lower lip, she pulled one of the upholstered chairs out from under the desk and sat down. “Fine,” she said. “I’m sitting. Now what’s wrong?”

  “Sam is dead.”

  “Oh.” I wouldn’t have thought it possible but her face turned even paler. She reached over and took Vivienne’s hand and held it up to her face where her tears had started to flow. “Viv, I’m so very sorry. What happened?”

  “Maggie got him.” For the first time since I met her, Vivienne’s face no longer looked youthful and innocent. Sam’s death had changed her, aged her. Would she ever laugh again? I didn’t know for sure, but knew the world would be a darker place if it were true.

  “What was Maggie doing here? Why didn’t you leave her back in Whitby? In fact, why aren’t you all back there?”

  I smiled at her. “It’s a long story, love. But I’ll make it short. The night you disappeared, Maggie left Whitby, taking Chris with her. We had to follow. She killed the other two dogs and threatened to do the same to him. I had no choice.”

  “Of course,” she said. “I wasn’t threatened. Not physically anyway. You made the right decision.”

  I continued with the rest of the story, up until my arrival at the Ballroom of Romance when she interrupted me with an excited exclamation.

  “Then that was you, at the door, demanding to talk to Max?”

  “Yeah.”

  She shook her head and gave a little smile. “If only I’d known. Derek didn’t say who it was, just that it was someone Max would need to deal with himself. While you were arguing with Max, I slipped out the back door. If I’d known it was you, I’d have stayed around.” A strange, haunted look crossed her face. “Or perhaps I would not have. Max brought you in earlier that evening, to address my delusions and you didn’t claim me.”

  “It wasn’t me, Deirdre, I swear it wasn’t.”

  “I know that now, but at the time the evidence seemed overwhelming.”

  “Oh, love, I’m sorry . . .”

  “Forget it, Mitch. I want to hear the rest of your story.”

  “There’s not much more to tell. I searched the streets all night, going to places we used to go to, looking for you. I knew you’d been in that room off of Max’s office.”

  She chuckled. “You may have passed me, actually. But you wouldn’t have known me, I was disguised.” She bowed her head for a minute and when she picked her face back up, it wasn’t her. And yet, as I looked into her eyes, her heart and soul were staring back at me.

  “Deirdre, I’d have known you regardless.”

  She shrugged and the false facial features seemed to slide off of her. “Maybe. I tried very hard not to be noticeable. But that doesn’t matter. When you didn’t fi
nd me, what did you do?”

  “What could I do? I came back here almost at dawn. That’s when I found out about Sam.”

  “She stabbed him, ma soeur, in so many places and so deep that it would make the hardest person weep in sorrow.” Viv’s voice sounded brittle. “He died instantly, I believe. But, God forgive me, I tried to bring him back. I ripped open my wrist with my nails and tried to force the blood down his throat. I called his name. I pleaded and begged for him to return. But he was gone and could not swallow my blood, could not hear my voice. Sam. Dead. How can this be? I still cannot believe.”

  Tears streamed down Deirdre’s face again and she put her hands up to her eyes to hide them. Vivienne got up from where she sat on the bed and knelt in front of her, grasping her hands. “Don’t cry, ma soeur, Sam always used to say there was nothing that made him feel more uncomfortable than a woman’s tears.” Viv drew in a short, sharp breath. “Mon Dieu, Deirdre. Your tears. They are clear. Sam was right.” She sniffled. “If only he were here to know that.”

  Deirdre calmed with Vivienne’s attentions. “What did Sam say? How is he right?”

  “He said that you were changing, that you were no longer a vampire, nor a human. And he said something else.” Viv smiled then, a sad vestige of her former mischievous grins, but a true smile anyway. “And he also said that you were with child. Is it true? Will you make this old tired monster kneeling in front of you an auntie?”

  “Victor says so.”

  “Ah,” Vivienne said, “then it must be true. And some good will come of this after all.”

  “Deirdre?” I’d stood back and let Vivienne comfort her, thinking that it would be good for both of them. I’d even thought about slipping out of the room and allow them to really talk. But this news was too wonderful to walk away from. “Is it true? Are you pregnant?”

  She turned to me and smiled. “It seems so, Mitch. Are you happy?”

  “Happy? Bloody hell, Deirdre, how could I not be happy? If it’s a boy, we’ll name him John Samuel Greer. What do you think, Viv?”

  “Sam would have liked that, Mitch. But,” Viv waved a hand at me, “I know that it cannot possibly be a boy. Lily and I have already decided it must be a girl.”

  I laughed. “Viv, who must be obeyed, has spoken.”

  “For now, though,” Deirdre said, “I think that’s enough talk about the baby. It will be what it will be. Right now we’ve got more important things to worry about. Maggie’s in custody, right?”

  I shook my head.

  “No one caught her? She walked out of here with a bloody knife the size of a machete and no one stopped her?”

  Vivienne flinched and I threw Deirdre a warning glance. “There wasn’t time, ma cher,” Viv said, “She was gone and I was tending to Sam.”

  “Yes, of course. I’m sorry, Vivienne, I didn’t mean to imply you had done something wrong. I know you loved Sam, you must’ve gone crazy at first. I think I can assume where she went: she went to find Max. Or Steven. She got her orders from him on the phone. But why kill Sam, I wonder? Max would want to keep Sam alive, I’d think, just in case something went wrong with his little potions.”

  “Potions?” I asked. Deirdre surprised me with her take-charge attitude. She really had changed. What had he done to her?

  “He gave me something to drink,” she continued, almost as if in answer to my question. “A hideous concoction. But it calmed me, kept the memories submerged and made me more docile.” She laughed bitterly, “I quit taking it after three or four days. But I still doubt he ordered Maggie to kill him. I’d think, rather, that his orders were to kill you, my love. You were the one who stood most in his way.”

  “But,” I reminded her, “Sam stood in her way. She had to know that as long as he was alive, he would keep her sedated.”

  “Ah,” she said, “of course.”

  I thought for a minute. “I don’t think, though, that Maggie would run to Max. He terrified her, especially since she failed to kill me the first time she tried. My guess is that she’s hiding out somewhere, biding her time, waiting to kill me or all of us. Then she can return to Max.”

  “Sounds very likely. So her time is limited. He’ll kill her either way, but I doubt she knows that. Max doesn’t like loose ends. We could just let him clean up his own problem.”

  “No,” Viv stood up. “I want her. I will make her pay for what she did to Sam.”

  “Then what do we do?”

  “To be honest, Deirdre, I don’t have a bloody clue. Too much has happened, I can’t even think straight right now.”

  Vivienne looked at me. “You did not sleep, did you, Mitch? How long do you think you can continue this?” Turning to Deirdre, she continued. “The man hasn’t had a decent day or night’s sleep since you disappeared. I will call Claude to come up and pass some time with me. You two should go to your room. Immediately.” She smiled at both of us. “You’ve been away for too long.”

  Deirdre nodded, a shy smile lighting her face. “If you’re sure you’ll be okay, Vivienne, that’s a good suggestion. I could use some sleep myself.”

  “Go,” she waved her hands at us. “Do not worry about me, mon amis. I need some time alone anyway. Perhaps I will take a walk.”

  “Whatever you do, Viv,” I reached over and ruffled her hair, “be safe. And be good.”

  She let out an exasperated breath. “Oh, foo, Mitch. I am always the former and never the latter. But if it makes you feel better”—she picked up the phone—“I will get Claude to accompany me.”

  “Perfect,” I said, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and took Deirdre’s arm.

  We heard her making arrangements with Claude as we headed out the door. Deirdre hugged my arm to her. “We do have a room, don’t we?”

  I pulled the key out of my pocket. “Indeed we do, Mrs. Greer, although I’ve not been there yet.” I looked at the number on the key envelope, consulted the room number sign on the wall and compared the nearby numbers. “It must be around the corner here.” We turned to the right to follow the corridor and I looked at the room numbers again. “Yeah, and then all the way at the end of the hall.”

  “You spent the day with Vivienne?”

  “Yes. Are you jealous?” I know that I would have been had our situations been reversed and Deirdre had spent the day with Sam, comforting him. I scowled at the thought.

  “No, Mitch, I’m grateful that you were there to offer her some sort of comfort. I can’t even begin to imagine what she must be feeling.”

  We nearly reached our room when we heard an angry screech from the direction we’d come. “Damn,” I pushed the key into Deirdre’s hands. “I’ll go see what’s wrong. You stay here.”

  “The hell I will. We’ll go together or not at all.”

  We rushed back to Vivienne’s room in time to see Maggie make a vicious swipe at Claude, who stood blocking Vivienne from harm. Blood spurted out of the slash, staining his white shirt and spilling over onto the floor. He didn’t blink an eye, instead he laughed. “You’ll have to do better than that, Maggie.” His huge hand encircled her wrist, forcing her to drop the knife and cry out in pain. I thought I heard the crack of breaking bones as Claude spun her around and held both of her arms behind her back with one hand. His other arm snaked around her neck. “Not so tough now, are you?” He said, then craned his head around to talk to Viv. “Get Sam’s bag, will you? He must have something in there we can use to restrain her. And hurry. I feel sort of funny.”

  “No need for that,” Victor’s voice echoed from the doorway and Maggie winced. “She’ll come along with me without a fight, won’t you, Maggie.”

  She whimpered slightly but nodded. “Yes, Victor. You have to protect me. They all want to kill me. Even Steven wants to kill me. But I had no choice, you know that, don’t you?”

  Victor reached over and took her head in his hands. “Poor girl,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle, “I know what your choices have been as well as you. I will find a place where y
ou can be alone and safe, where you won’t harm yourself or others. Maybe we can salvage the girl you used to be.”

  “But Victor,” Vivienne began to say, “she killed—”

  “Don’t overstep your bounds, Vivienne.” His voice changed, the gentleness replaced by cold steel. “Direct your revenge at me, or not at all.”

  She took a step forward, stared up into his eyes, and backed away.

  “Good,” he said. “You’ve done the right thing. Anyone else care to dispute my claim on this woman? Mitch? Deirdre? Claude?”

  I wanted to challenge him, not because I wanted to kill Maggie myself, that was the furthest thing from my mind. I wanted to take him on simply because of his superior attitude, because of his arrogant nature. And I wanted to test my powers against his. I had for years. I wanted to see if I could win. Almost stepping forward, I felt Deirdre’s soft hand on my arm. The heat of her skin and the glow in her eyes changed my mind. Let Victor take care of Maggie if he could; I had better things to do.

  Chapter 27

  Deirdre Griffin: New York City

  I held my breath, not believing that Mitch actually intended to challenge Victor. There was a time when I might have supported him in this effort; the qualities that annoyed Mitch about Victor had also annoyed me. But the blood I had taken from him gave me a deeper understanding of the man and what he was capable of. Placing a hand on Mitch’s arm, I looked into his eyes and sighed my relief as I felt the tension slowly pass out of his body.

  “Good,” Victor said again. “Claude, are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” Claude pulled his hand away from his chest, unbuttoned what was left of his shredded shirt, and studied the wound. “It seems to be healing up just fine, thanks.”

  Victor placed a hand on Maggie’s forehead. “Was there poison on the knife, Maggie?”

  She shook her head and answered him with a whispered “No.”

  “Then sleep now,” he passed his hand over her eyes and her body drooped. Victor picked her up as he had picked me up the previous evening. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He glared at Mitch. “Under no circumstances are you to play the hero and confront Max without me. Or it will be your funeral.” He nodded to me and to Vivienne and walked out the door, carrying Maggie as if she were a sleeping child. To him, I suppose, she was. As were we all.