by Nina Pierce
Instinct told him the woman was in trouble and once again, she had no one to save her. He’d be damned if whatever was keeping her out at night and making her ill would cause her harm. He’d seen how she’d lost weight over the last few months. He was neither blind nor stupid, though Alex seemed to think he was both. Glenn worried her behavior was somehow tangled with the rash of fires killing vampires.
Even with the addition of Ronan, RISEN didn’t seem to be making progress in stopping the murderer. If anything, the number of fires was escalating. With the death of the professor, Glenn worried Alex could be next. He refused to stand back and let that happen.
He hated leaving Alex alone and vulnerable in the cellars this morning. Despite her tough exterior, the woman needed protection and Reese seemed all too happy to be the one offering it. Glenn only hoped that stubborn streak of hers hadn’t sent him away.
Maybe Reese would also manage to get answers Alex was unwilling to give Glenn.
He didn’t need to hear the young woman’s thoughts to know she was keeping secrets about the fire at the professor’s mansion. He’d seen the guilt on her face last night as plain as her short red hair and lying smile.
Like the dark chill in the foyer Glenn entered, cold fear weighed heavy in his gut. Alex was as close to his heart as a biological daughter. He’d found her battered, drained and left for dead in the woods behind the tavern thirty years ago. A faceless vampire had raped and nearly sucked her dry. He hadn’t been sure he could save her when he’d brought her back to his farm. Only weeks of constant attention and blood he’d taken from well-paid prostitutes in the valley, who’d willingly given him a pint instead of sex, had brought Alex back to the world of the living dead.
He’d taught her how to survive on animals and she, in turn, had found the missing chemical combination for the synthetic blood wine to keep a small portion of the local vampire population—a population that was declining with each passing month—healthy and thriving. He prayed Alex wasn’t responsible for the horrific deaths. Glenn suspected, at the very least, she had information that would blow RISEN’s case wide open.
That was the other reason he was here. He wanted to find something, anything to keep Alex from standing trial. Over the past few decades there hadn’t been a vampire who’d left the hallowed halls of the tribunal without a target on their back, mysteriously disappearing or worse, found beheaded weeks or months after their trial. True guilt or innocence didn’t seem to matter. If someone was accused of slaying vamps and survived the tribunal’s verdict, there obviously were plenty of immortals out there who chose to dole out their own form of justice.
And Alex had certainly been acting odd the last couple of months. Not that her every waking moment was any of his business, but she’d been spending more and more hours away from the tavern without explanation. He’d also seen how queasy she’d become when they’d bottled the last batch of blood. Adding it all up was bringing him to only one conclusion—she was up to her pretty blue eyeballs in something that smelled an awful lot like trouble.
Glenn removed neither his sunglasses nor ball cap as he scanned the building’s directory in the marble foyer. Quickly, he found what he was looking for: Dr. Paul Morgan, Head of Chemistry Department … Room 308. Glenn headed down the nearly empty hall. He found the stairs and leaped gracefully up the three flights without fear of discovery. Locating the office door, Glenn scanned the hall before shoving two paperclips into the lock mechanism. A push, a twist and a little luck and the lock disengaged. Glenn couldn’t hold back his self-satisfied grin. Sometimes even vampires learned a thing or two from crime shows.
Slipping inside, he quickly shut and locked the door. Educators, Glenn suspected, ran in two flavors; neat to the point of obsessive order or systematic clutter. It appeared Professor Morgan fit the latter category. Files, periodicals and books were strewn about on the floor, chairs, and shelves. The desk in front of him was cluttered as well with a mess of notebooks and papers surrounding a computer monitor. The only organization seemed to be on the bookcases standing on either side of the window on the opposite wall. Textbooks and, he assumed, research materials, marched neatly across the shelves.
His cheeks puffed as he exhaled in frustration. With the proverbial needle hidden somewhere among the stacks, he had no doubt the answer was here. Glenn only wished he knew the question.
What he did know, aside from the fact the professor was one of a handful of humans who knew of the existence of vampires, was that he’d found no evidence of wrongdoing by Alex in the charred remains of the professor’s mansion. Glenn had snuck in after everyone had left, sifting through the debris throughout the morning.
Passionate people like the professor didn’t go through life without a mission. And though Glenn didn’t know the man well enough to know what pushed him out of bed every morning, he had no doubt proof of the professor’s life work existed. He also suspected the man wouldn’t chance leaving the only copy of that passion to be destroyed. Somewhere, there was more evidence and he had every intention of finding it and obliterating anything that might incriminate Alex. Then Glenn would help her fix whatever damage she’d done and restart her life.
He’d done it once before—he’d do it again.
Glenn stared at the computer. Over the years he’d become a master hacker. It was a time-consuming venture at best and not something he wanted to deal with at the moment. He’d taken the burnt hard drive from the professor’s computer at the mansion. Even though he didn’t have the expertise to deal with that, Glenn had simply not wanted to make it available to anyone else. If he couldn’t find anything in this mess, he’d take this computer with him and hope the answers revealed themselves in Morgan’s computer files.
Removing his sunglasses, Glenn stared at the office, trying to think like a professor. Of all the professions he’d had over his five centuries, teaching had not been one of them. But scientists were linear thinking creatures, surely he could manage logic. Surveying the cramped quarters, Glenn tried to see consistency in the randomness. The books on the shelves were the only ordered part of the room. He’d start there.
Leaping over four stacks of magazines and the desk, Glenn wondered how the professor had navigated the crowded space. With a careful eye he read the bindings of the books. An hour later, as the afternoon shadows lengthened into early evening, Glenn found what he’d been searching for. Three quarters of the way through the fourth set of shelves, a couple of feet above the floor, it glared at him like a neon beer sign in the forest. It was so cleverly hidden in the open, if he hadn’t been searching with an eye to inconsistencies, he wouldn’t have tripped upon it.
Pulling out the new copy of the John Grisham novel, tucked neatly among well-worn chemistry tomes, Glenn ran his fingers reverently over the embossed title—The Innocent Man. He had no doubt the title held not only irony, but some dark secret. He inhaled, praying whatever he found wouldn’t lead to Alex, but knowing deep in his gut that it would.
Glenn opened the cover, finding nothing but a generic inscription from the author himself. But several pages in, right at the end of Chapter Two, the story stopped and so did his heart. Lying neatly in a ragged hole sawed through the pages were a key and a Greyhound bus schedule.
He shoved both into his pocket and replaced the book on the shelf, careful not to make it stand out. Glenn had no delusions he was the only one searching for the professor’s secrets.
Obviously the man had been killed trying to keep them hidden.
* * *
“… no, make it a veggie burger. Spinach instead of lettuce. Tomato, but only if they’re fresh. Hold the mayo, but add avocados and extra pickles.” The young woman looked up at Alex and smiled, finally closing the menu she’d been contemplating for the last five minutes. “And could I have unsweetened iced tea with lemon? But the lemon on the side? And not too much ice.”
Alex wrote the order on her pad, fighting through the double vision blurring the words. “Fries?” she asked o
ut of habit. The young couple at the table bantered back and forth about good fats and bad fats and caloric intake, until Alex regretted making the suggestion. “How about I just bring you a sampler platter of our sides, on the house?” She gathered their menus and hurried away from the table before they could change their minds.
Blessedly there were only a few late afternoon stragglers in the tavern needing beers and food. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could put one foot in front of the other. Looking up at the antique clock on the wall, its pendulum swinging in tempo with the throbbing pain at her temples, she calculated the minutes until Katie would arrive and relieve her for the dinner rush.
She’d gotten through the morning without really noticing how the queasiness had morphed into full blown stomach cramps. Of course, there had been a little distraction in the wine cellar. Despite her confusion over the series of events that had resulted in her naked body bent over a wine cask—because damn, Reese had been insatiable—she couldn’t stop the sappy smile lighting her face or the warm rush of memory heating her blood.
But seriously, what the hell had that been anyway?
Months working to get the man’s attention and he chose now to make a move? For a vamp trained in precision maneuvers, the firefighter’s timing was way off on this operation. Because despite how she’d melted in his arms and loved every groan of pleasure she’d pulled from his lips—there was no altering the direction she’d chosen—and there was definitely no Reese on the road ahead of her.
Pushing through the kitchen doors, she set her slip on the stainless counter with the other two. “Order for table four,” she mumbled.
Chris turned from the grill and caught her wrist, stopping her escape. “Hey, you okay? You don’t look very good.”
“Yeah, fine.” She forced a tremulous smile. “It was just a long morning in the cellars.”
He let go of her hand, wiping his palms down his greasy apron. “Yeah, sorry about that.” Chris blushed. “I got held up at the university trying to get my fall semester straightened out.”
“Really, it’s not a problem. I didn’t mean—”
“No. Yeah. I mean Reese was here to help.”
“Seriously, Chris. Not a problem.” Alex circled her fingers at her temples, trying to counter the pressure building there. “I’m more worried about Glenn. It’s not like him to be so late. I can’t imagine what’s keeping him today.”
“He called a little while ago. He’s been held up doing personal stuff. He’s not sure when he’ll get in.” Chris smiled and shrugged. “Seems everyone’s running late today.”
The mother of all cramps twisted her gut, stealing her breath and doubling her over.
“Shit, Alex. You aren’t all right.” Chris grabbed her by the shoulders to keep her from completely falling to the floor. “What the hell’s going on?”
“Hey, guys.” Katie chose that moment to breeze through the back door.
“Grab the stool in the corner,” Chris said.
“I’m fine. Really.” Alex forced her body upright. “Hey, Katie. Thanks for coming in.”
“No problem.” Katie’s look of confusion would have been comical if Alex was finding anything amusing about her current situation.
“There’re only a few customers. Glenn’s running late.” The words tripped across Chris’s tongue in staccato bursts. “Orders are nearly ready. We need you to run the bar and tables until he gets here. Obviously Alex isn’t feeling well. Just—”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake I’m fine.” Alex pushed away from Chris, hoping her knees would hold her up. “Just woman stuff.”
“I hear you on that, sister.” Katie grabbed an apron and headed out of the kitchen.
Chris’s face scrunched in doubt. “That’s bullshit. I’ve watched you dragging your ass around here all afternoon. And you called Katie in. It’s pretty bad when you call in reinforcements. What’s really going on?”
Damn if she knew.
“I guess the professor’s death is affecting me more than I thought. I didn’t sleep well last night and I think it’s catching up with me.” She held his gaze, hoping Chris couldn’t see the deception in her eyes. “I’m not sure who’s going to make the funeral arrangements and—” Another cramp stabbed through her gut, making her gasp and bringing tears to her eyes.
Chris misunderstood. “Hey, now, we’re all here for you.” He reached out as if to hug her, hesitated, and settled for rubbing his hands up and down her bare arms. “I know how much the professor meant to you. We’re all here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
Yes, she did. “Thanks, friend.” She stepped out his reach and forced another smile. “Now that Katie’s here, I’m just going to go downstairs and finish up the bookkeeping and then head out myself. I guess I need a night off as well.” Alex didn’t even bother to take off her apron before running for the refuge of the cellar, grateful that Chris didn’t follow. Alone time was good.
Unlocking the door to the wine cellar, she let the damp, cool air settle around her. Less than twenty-four hours had passed since she’d been with the professor and already her body was screaming for the one thing she couldn’t give it—sustenance.
Dragging herself into the cask room, Alex took small, shallow breaths, working to keep her stomach from heaving as she grabbed a bottle of blood wine and a small measuring beaker from the shelf. Returning to her office, she fell heavily in her chair, her knees shaky and weak. With trembling hands, she grabbed a half dozen saltine crackers from her drawer, unwrapped them and crumbled them into the beaker. She poured the blood wine over them, holding her breath as she stirred the concoction with her finger.
Alex had no idea if this would work, but without the professor to guide her, she was running out of ideas of what to do for her starving body. Too far from one world and not close enough to the other, she prayed this solution would at least ease the cramping. Pinching her nose, she forced herself to swallow the cracker mixture. She gagged twice before managing to get it all down.
Heavy footfalls sounded on the stairs.
She shoved the beaker into the drawer with the crackers, corked the wine, and cleaned the crimson evidence from her lips. “I’m here in the office.”
“I was just checking to see how you’re feeling.” Chris stood in the doorway, disappointment shadowing his face. “I don’t know why you drink that stuff.” He walked to her in slow, measured steps. “It goes against your nature.” He looked down at her as he brushed his thumb across her lips, his gaze heavy with judgment. “You’re losing weight and your skin is so pale. The wine isn’t enough for any vampire. You need more nourishment.”
Chris viewed immortality with all the arrogance of youth. Fate may have pulled him into the suspended time warp of the vampire world nearly a decade ago, but unlike her—he celebrated every moment of his new found lease on life. A vampire in search of his own kind, he’d come to South Kenton, like so many others over the years, seeking Glenn’s wisdom and counsel. Glenn had happily welcomed him into the O’Malleys family. And up until a few months ago, Chris had been happy to help with the wine business; bottling and distributing, and helping vamps through the transition from human blood to the wine.
But something had changed. Oh, he still took his weekly two bottles of blood wine as scheduled, but something told Alex he wasn’t living off it. She had no hard evidence, just subtle changes in the man’s behavior and attitude. An air of superiority surrounded him like a winter coat. And he seemed to find more and more excuses not to help here in the cellar.
“Nothing to say for yourself? Not going to deny that perhaps you were wrong?” Chris said.
“About the wine?”
“What a stupid name for your concoction.” He hauled her to her feet so quickly the room spun in dizzying patterns. “Look at you. You’re pathetic, Alex. Standing there unwilling to admit your little experiment isn’t working. It’s an abomination and an insult to our race.”
“No that’s—”
“Drink from me. Feel the power of my blood coursing through you.” Tipping his head to the side, Chris offered his throat. At the sight of his throbbing artery her gag reflex took over and she drive heaved several times. Chris pushed her away so quickly her knees gave way and she crumpled back into the office chair. “Seriously? I’m that repulsive?”
She reached for his arm, but he pulled it out of her reach. “No, it’s not like that. It’s so complicated and—”
“Don’t bother explaining.” He held his hands up and pushed at the air. “I get it. I’m not good enough for you. I’m too new. You like ‘em with a century or two of experience under their belt.”
“What? No. That’s not it all.” She tried to stand, but another wave of nausea swept over her heated skin, keeping her rooted to the chair. Dropping her face in her hands, she pressed the heels of her palms against her eyelids, trying to bring the fuzzy edges of her vision back into focus. Tried to keep her chaotic thoughts moving in the right direction. “It’s not you. There’s nothing wrong with you. I just I can’t. I—”
“Alex, stop. Just stop. You don’t owe me anything. And you know what?” He began untying the strings of the apron hanging around his hips. “I don’t owe you and Glenn a goddamn thing either.” He threw the apron on the floor. “I can’t work for a fucking holier-than-thou vampire who thinks she’s better than the rest of us. Consider this my notice.”
The overly cheerful notes of Alex’s ringtone cut through his anger.
“No, please don’t leave like this. Let me—”
“Answer the phone, Alex. No doubt it’s one of the chosen you’re willing to help.” Chris stormed out of the office. “Fuck you. And fuck your wine.”
How the hell was she going to make that better? Not only was Chris a great short order cook, he’d become one of her true friends. Not that friendships would matter in another day or two, but she owed it to Glenn to keep Chris from quitting—especially on her account.