A Whisper of Humanity

by Denyse M. Bridger

  They were scrambling to reach the exit, pushing at each other in their mad rush to escape. Cartier roared his fury and chose his next victim. Faith's face swam before him, still with death. The second boy's throat was ravaged and his corpse flung away. Blood-lust and growing rage drowned all traces of reason within the ancient vampire's mind, and he smiled as he launched at the remaining punks.

  It was over in minutes, and six blood stained bodies littered the dusty floor. The violence of his kills had increased with the flow of blood that he'd gorged on. The evidence of his brutality was apparent in the gaping wounds and grotesquely rendered bodies. Cartier closed his eyes briefly, then flew from the building.

  * * * *

  The kills were nothing.

  But, the loss of control as Cartier had gone through the gang members to avenge Faith was something he wasn't able to dismiss as easily. Cartier never lost control of his reason. He took lives without guilt, but never in an insane rage as he'd done tonight. The realization that he'd felt, deeply, the fear of losing a mortal woman, enraged and unsettled him.

  * * * *

  "Nothing!” Shiller snapped as he came to a stop in front of his partner. He holstered his gun and waited for some sort of rebuke from Blackthorne. When it wasn't forthcoming, he eyed the blond man with something akin to apprehension.

  "Out with it, Blackthorne,” he said impatiently. “We just got a false lead, from one of my—"

  "Forget it, Don,” Adrian interrupted softly. “It happens."

  Shiller waited, still not willing to accept that Blackthorne was being so amiable about the screw-up.

  "What now?"

  "We find your informer and ask him where he got his information.” Adrian had the distinct feeling he already knew, but he needed to be certain. Shiller sighed and refrained from comment as he climbed into the car. Adrian flipped open his cellular and called the loft.

  "How's Faith?” Shiller asked innocently once Adrian had placed his call. When Blackthorne glanced at him, he smiled. “She was as white as a ghost when you guys headed for ‘the hotel', and she was barely conscious. I don't know why you didn't want anyone to know she was hit, and I don't want to know. It's your business. But have you contacted her captain yet?"

  "No,” Adrian answered the second question, then debated his reply to the first. “She's fine, it was a flesh wound. I haven't notified her captain, because Giselle figures she'll be all right in a few days. Someone's after her, Don. That's why she's not in a hospital."

  "You think this might be connected to—"

  Adrian shook his head immediately. “It's personal, nothing to do with the case."

  Shiller wanted to ask the obvious, but chose not to. He knew it was the right decision moments later when Blackthorne relaxed visibly. In spite of the teasing he'd tossed at Adrian, he knew that the Los Angeles detective and his partner had become friends. Blackthorne didn't have many people in his life, at least to Shiller's reckoning, so he was glad they'd found some common emotional ground. Faith Prentice seemed as difficult to get near as Adrian often appeared.

  "Where do we find..."

  "Terence,” Shiller supplied. “Check ‘The Underground’ first."

  "Appropriate,” Adrian mumbled as he turned the car into traffic.

  * * * *

  The scent of fresh blood was everywhere. Adrian reeled against the impact it was having on his senses. Six bodies were all but ripped to pieces, and he knew who was responsible. The amount of blood was minimal, the violence of the deaths sickening. Cartier had sought vengeance. Somehow the master vampire had known these kids were the ones who'd attacked Adrian and Faith. That wasn't surprising; Shiller's snitch had been given his misleading information by someone matching the description of Cartier's sound technician from VAMP Radio. The delay tactic had given Cartier time to unleash his revenge.

  "Steady, Adrian,” Shiller said quietly as he stopped beside his partner. “You look like you're—"

  Adrian waved aside the half-finished observation.

  "Has Giselle been notified?” he asked.

  "She's not answering her beeper. One of her assistants is on his way over."

  "Can you handle things here, Shiller?” Adrian questioned with sudden urgency. Giselle was at his apartment, not answering her calls, and Cartier would go there in search of Faith. He should never have left them there, not alone.

  Shiller's outraged voice followed him as he left the building at a run. He turned into the dark alley next to the store, and quickly rose in flight.

  * * * *

  Minutes later, Adrian burst into his loft, descending through the skylight. He spotted Giselle immediately and dropped to his knees next to her.

  "Giselle!” She was breathing normally and showed no signs of being attacked. He recognized the aftereffects of trance when her eyes opened and closed several times in an attempt to focus.

  "It's all right, Giselle,” he reassured as he carried her to the sofa. “You're safe."

  "Cartier was here,” she gasped and gestured vaguely toward the stairs. “Faith...” It wasn't necessary to continue speaking, he was already gone. She waited a few minutes more before she felt secure enough to move again.

  * * * *

  Faith was hauling herself into a sitting position when Adrian reached her side. She smiled wanly and didn't object when he picked her up and took her back into his bedroom. When he began checking her throat for marks, she pushed him away.

  "Have you lost your mind, Blackthorne?” she demanded weakly.

  Blackthorne ignored her as he contemplated the evidence that Cartier had let pass his second opportunity to take her. What kind of game was the older vampire playing?

  "What did he say to you?” Adrian asked as she glared at him.

  "What did who say to me?"

  Blackthorne's eyes darkened with warning. “Cartier,” he stated blandly. “And don't tell me he wasn't here."

  The challenge hung in the air for several tension laden moments, then she closed her fingers into fists and shook her head.

  "I wish he'd taken me with him,” she snapped, tone low with resentment.

  Adrian's expression was bleak.

  "Did you find the shooters?"

  It was Giselle who asked the question as she joined them in the bedroom. She held up a hand when Adrian would have admonished her for moving.

  "I'm fine, Adrian, really,” she told him with a small smile. “Just a little groggy."

  "He said they'd be dealt with,” Faith supplied into the warmth that arced between the two friends.

  "What?"

  She smiled at Adrian's anger.

  "You heard me, Blackthorne."

  "He killed six people, Faith,” Adrian told her coldly. “He no doubt enjoyed it tremendously."

  She felt ice flow along her spine and shook her head. “I don't believe you."

  "Why? You don't know anything about Cartier. He's a monster, Faith. A killer. And he intends to make you into one.” Adrian made no effort to soften the shattering disclosures. His voice was carefully devoid of emotion.

  "That's ridiculous,” she protested, though her confidence was clearly shaken. When she caught the look of concern that passed between Adrian and Giselle, her temper flared. “You're the one who doesn't understand, Blackthorne. You have no idea what he feels!"

  Adrian stared at her, more worry than disbelief in his handsome features.

  "I know exactly how he feels, Faith,” Adrian whispered sadly, then added very softly, “Because I'm just like him.” Her eyes glittered with un-vented rage, then she looked away from his direct gaze.

  * * * *

  Giselle watched as Adrian paced and waited for Julianna to arrive. She wasn't convinced calling the beautiful vampire would win him any support, but she wasn't in a position to offer him anything useful in the way of help herself, so she conceded to the inevitable. Adrian always went to Julianna when he was in trouble. It was something Giselle was slowly learning to accept.

 
She almost jumped out of her skin when Julianna slipped in through the skylight and landed next to her. The lovely vampire smiled in amused greeting, then went to Adrian's side.

  "This had better be important, Adrian,” she said after kissing him thoroughly. She laughed at the sheepish glance he cast in Giselle's direction. “Relax, chérie,” she purred, “Giselle understands that we are old friends. Don't you, Giselle?” She grinned at the other woman.

  Giselle offered them a weak smile, then went into the kitchen to make herself another cup of coffee.

  * * * *

  "What is it you want from me this time, Adrian?” Julianna asked once they were alone.

  "Your support,” he answered, then finished with obvious reluctance, “against Cartier."

  "Non!” It came without hesitation, and she glared at him in fury. “There is a great deal I would do to help you, Adrian, but I will not get involved in your war with Cartier."

  "He wants the woman he met at your club,” Adrian stated. “She's a friend, Julianna."

  "She is your friend, Adrian. Not mine. I will not risk it! Do you have any idea what he would do to me if I helped you keep this woman away from him? Let him have her, Adrian. This time, let him have the woman he wants,” she repeated with obvious meaning. “Faith Prentice is not your sister."

  "He's killed a half dozen people tonight, Julianna,” Adrian almost shouted in combined anger and hurt. The reminder of his youngest sister, Lily, was a painful one, and he resented Julianna for it.

  "All the more reason to let him have the woman,” Julianna concluded. “If she is the reason he has gone on this killing spree, then she will also be the reason he stops."

  "And what if he doesn't?” Adrian charged. “Do you think we can survive the attention this could bring to the community?"

  Her expression clouded again with annoyance.

  "Then return her to her home, Adrian,” Julianna advised. “But, let it go."

  "He'll follow her,” Adrian insisted.

  "Let him,” she said softly. She sighed heavily, then went to his side. “Adrian, this war you wage with Cartier will end in disaster if you continue to provoke him. He's powerful. No one knows that better than we do. He will have what he wants."

  "Help me, Julianna,” he requested again. When she would have whirled away in anger, he pulled her close. “Please, Julianna, this is important to me."

  Eventually she relented.

  * * * *

  "You'll be safe here,” Adrian told Faith as he looked around the spacious apartment Julianna had sent them to. Giselle finished checking the bandages on Faith's side and helped her sit up again.

  "I'd be just as safe on my way back to L.A., Adrian,” she said for what felt like the tenth time in the past hour.

  "As soon as Giselle says you can travel,” he promised, though he refused to meet her eyes as he spoke.

  "Or as soon as you kill Cartier? Is that it, Blackthorne?” Faith inquired with genuine resentment. “Why won't you explain whatever it is that's going on between you?"

  Giselle met his eyes, and Faith bristled at the obvious knowledge they shared.

  "If you want me to disappear, Adrian, you'd better be prepared to tell me why I'm leaving."

  "He intends to kill you."

  To Faith's astonishment it was Giselle, not Adrian, who made the surprising announcement.

  "She deserves to know, Adrian!"

  For long minutes, silence filled the room, then Adrian nodded and came to join them on the couch. He took Faith's hands in his and began to tell her precisely what Cartier was, and what he wanted from her.

  * * * *

  Julianna stormed into the back room of The Tomb, drink in hand. She was tired, and more than a little annoyed with the two men who had dominated her life for centuries. At that moment, she would have gladly rid herself of both of them.

  She drained her glass and peered into the crimson-filmed bowl of the goblet. Calm slowly penetrated her mood, and she walked the room as the tranquility of her now-quiet nightclub made its way into her mind.

  Her tour of the room ended at the chess table. Her fragile peace shattered and became an enraged growl of renewed fury. She ran her fingers over the white queen, then picked up the ornately carved playing piece. Finding the queen on her side was not an accident, it was a caution against further interference. Julianna knew she would heed Cartier's warning.

  She clutched the piece tightly, then flung it across the room as impotent rage coursed through her veins.

  "Damn you both!” she shouted to the empty room.

  * * * *

  "What have we got on the multiple homicides at that store-front?” Captain Cohen asked as she came to a halt next to Blackthorne's desk.

  "Giselle's doing the autopsies,” he began, suppressing a twinge of anxiety at the enquiry.

  "And what have you turned up?” Cohen repeated with more insistence.

  "One of the guns at the crime scene matches the ballistics in the shooting earlier in the night,” Adrian told her. “Looks like one solved, even if the motive isn't clear."

  "Any suspects for the massacre?” Her revulsion was clear in the uneasy tone of her voice and the shudder that visibly rippled her body.

  "None,” Shiller put in as he dropped into his chair and tossed the file he was carrying onto Adrian's desk. “And Giselle hasn't been able to determine exact cause of death, the wounds are inconsistent. She said something about blood losses and the possibility of shock induced trauma that led to death.” He shrugged. “None of it makes much sense, and there were no prints at the scene—another mystery. Naturally, no one saw anything out of the ordinary.” He looked from his partner's carefully neutral expression to the annoyance on Cohen's face and wasn't reassured by either.

  "Find something, gentlemen,” Cohen advised. “We have six dead bodies on our hands, and I need to have something better than ‘we're looking into it’ to give to the police commissioner when he calls again to yell on the mayor's behalf."

  Before either detective could reply, she slammed the door to her office.

  "Great!” Shiller muttered. “How are we supposed to find something when there isn't anything to be found?"

  Figuring it was rhetorical, Blackthorne didn't bother attempting an answer of any kind. He had other things on his mind just then, though the two were directly connected in a sense. It had been two days since the attack Cohen referred to, and in that time, Cartier had made no move toward Faith Prentice. Adrian was certain it was simply a move to keep him off guard.

  It was working.

  * * * *

  Faith twisted the dials on the sound system in her temporary residence. She'd been up for most of the day and was weary with emotional strain as well as physical. She was about to turn off the radio when his voice froze her hand in mid-air. With a sharp exhalation, she slumped into an armchair and listened in shocked wonder.

  * * * *

  "...Vulnerability comes with caring, boys and girls. You let someone touch you, and you give them the greatest weapon they could hope to have. No one's immune. No one's ever really good at being alone. It's a sickness ... loneliness ... , and it eats away at your soul. It's insidious. It makes you weak, boys and girls..."

  Cartier's expression was grim as the words spilled out into the night, carried to the world via Internet radio, to an audience who had no true understanding of what it was he spoke about. No mortal could, of course. Cartier's isolation was the product of millennia spent alone, in a search that had promised him an end to the ache within him, but always denied him the prize he sought.

  He thought he'd found a worthy companion in Faith Prentice, but his lack of control had dissuaded him in a way Adrian would never have been capable of employing.

  * * * *

  Faith shivered as the sound of his voice seduced her. The response was so intense she felt tears slip from her eyes. It shocked her to realize she was breathing erratically and her heart was pounding wildly. Impulsively, she rose a
nd headed for the bedroom. Minutes later she was dressed and gone from the apartment.

  * * * *

  Adrian snapped the phone shut and headed directly for the apartment house. She should have answered the phone; he'd been trying to get through to her for nearly an hour. Dread had settled in the pit of his stomach, cold and tightly coiled into a knot that felt tangible.

  * * * *

  Cartier knew the moment he was no longer alone in the studio. He glanced up from his solitary seat in the centre of the shadowed room. Beyond the glass walls that enclosed him, he saw her. Dark hair was wind blown and her eyes bright with yearning. He smiled and invited her in with a careless gesture of one hand. He leaned back in his chair and watched as she crossed the short distance that separated them, then stood before him.

  "What do you want, Faith?” he eventually asked.

  "I heard your...” She stopped, drew in a ragged breath, and held out her hands, palms upturned. “I want to be with you, Devon,” she admitted in a rush. “I've wanted to be with you since that night at The Tomb."

  "Adrian saved your life that night,” Cartier informed her. When she didn't comment, he looked more closely at her. “And he's told you a great deal since then,” the master vampire concluded.

  "It doesn't change how I feel,” she assured him.

  One eloquently arched eyebrow rose, his smile was indulgent and not a little mocking.

  "Go, while you have the chance, Faith,” he decreed coldly, voice devoid of any discernible emotion.

  * * * *

  Adrian flung the apartment door open and raced through the rooms in search of Faith. She was gone. He stood in the living room, and for a minute it didn't register. Slowly, he heard the low sound of a familiar voice. The radio was still on, soft and insistent, pouring out a spell of dark seduction to an unsuspecting audience. And one mind in particular would find the lure an irresistible force.

  As quickly as he'd entered the apartment, Adrian abandoned it.

  * * * *

  Faith stared at Cartier in confused horror. “No!” She walked around the console that separated them and knelt next to his chair. “Don't send me away,” she pleaded, beyond caring what a fool she was making of herself. “I'm tired of being alone, too."