Amanda moved onto her side and bent her elbow, propping her head up on her open palm. “Why don't we talk about something else?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Tell me about your wife.”
“I'd like to talk more about Aleksei.”
“I'm serious.”
“So am I.”
“I know her name was Caroline. You told me she died...”
“Right on both counts.”
“So what happened to her? It's obviously had a huge impact on you. Anyone can see you're not over her.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You really have to ask? You're a complete wreck.”
Danny laughed drily. “Thanks.”
“What happened to her?” Amanda asked again.
“She was murdered.”
Danny felt his throat close up as the words left his mouth. He bit his lip, and eyed the hotel mini-bar.
“Right in front of me,” he said.
“Oh my God. I'm sorry.”
Danny rolled his eyes and got up from the bed. He grabbed the pants he had tossed on the floor earlier, and pulled them on as he walked across the room to the mini-bar. He chose a bottle of scotch and tossed it back.
“And that's exactly why I didn't want to talk about what happened,” he said. “You'd be amazed how unbearable it can be to hear people telling you how sorry they are.”
“I don't know what else to say.”
“I know you don't. And it's not your fault. I just can't stand hearing it.”
“Who killed her? Why?”
Danny's eyes welled with tears. He reached for another bottle of Scotch and plopped onto the chair next to the mini-bar, stretching his legs out in front of him.
“A guy I knew at work. A cop. Actually, he was my partner.”
“Oh my God,” Amanda repeated. She stopped herself before adding her sympathy. “Why?” she asked.
Danny shook his head and took a drink. “It's a long story. Are you sure you want to hear this? Don't you have something better to do than listen to 'This is Your Life, Danny Fitzpatrick?'”
“No, I don't. What happened?”
“His name was Stephen Jackson. I was only partnered with him for a few years, before that I'd been with the same guy since I first became a cop. He retired, and I got put with Jackson, who had just moved to Chicago.”
“So you didn't know him that well?”
“Well enough. I thought I did anyway. He and I started working on a string of murders in the area. Women who'd been raped before they were murdered. We already knew about a serial rapist who'd been busy in Chicago, and Jackson and I got put on the case when it was clear the rapist had escalated and added murder to his game.”
Danny paused and took another drink. Amanda stared at him, wondering if he was still aware she was in the room. He looked as if he were miles away.
“I told you this was a long story so I'll make it short,” Danny said. “I had no idea Jackson was playing me for a fool, working this case with me while he was the god-damn perp. I kept talking about how it seemed like the asshole was so careful, he seemed to know just what cops would look for, but it never dawned on me that there was a good reason for that. Then one day he slipped, made a comment about how one of the women looked when she took her last breath. I guess he was getting so fucking cocky he didn't even think about what he was saying, he just wanted to brag about it. He tried to play it off as soon as he realized what he'd said, but I knew then. I knew what an idiot I'd been.”
“I started looking at the rape cases and realized they'd started right around the time Jackson moved to Chicago. I looked up unsolved cases in Des Moines, where he'd come from, and sure enough, there was a serial rapist who miraculously stopped right after Jackson moved out of the city. He knew I was after him, but I didn't have any evidence. He threatened, told me if I knew what was good for me, I'd stop. I told him to fuck off and I was going to keep going until I could nail his ass to the wall.”
“So he went after Caroline?”
Danny nodded. “That night I walked into my apartment and found him in the bedroom with Caroline. He told me she was going to be his next victim, and I was welcome to watch. He had a knife to her throat..” Danny's voice cracked and he quickly downed the rest of the Scotch.
“You don't have to keep talking about it,” Amanda said. “I'm sorry I brought these memories up for you.”
“Don't worry about it. These memories aren't ever gone, believe me.”
Danny tossed the empty bottle into the wastebasket, and stared at the painting of a beach scene on the wall. Why advertise the beach in an Alaskan hotel? He supposed the proprietors were just trying to help guests forget they were in this god-forsaken Arctic wasteland.
He turned towards Amanda, who was now sitting up straight in the bed, hugging her knees to her chest.
“He sliced her throat right in front of me,” he said bluntly. “I had a gun on him and I was about to fire, I knew I could blow his head off, but I waited too long. I was trying to make sure I had a perfect shot, but my fucking hands were shaking so god-damn much...”
Danny let out a deep breath. “Her blood splattered all over me at the same time I pulled the trigger and blew his brains out. Have you ever seen how much blood comes out of jugular veins?”
Amanda shook her head.
“A hell of a lot. Pumping everywhere, all over me. All out of Caroline. I still see that blood everywhere I fucking look.”
Danny got up from his chair and grabbed a bottle of vodka out of the mini-bar. He held it up to Amanda. “Time to move on to the alcoholic's choice.”
“So that's when you moved to Fairbanks? After Caroline was murdered?”
“You got it. I quit homicide, and left Chicago right after her funeral. I didn't care where I went. I just knew I couldn't stay there.” He sat back down and stared at Amanda. “So now you know all about Caroline. Satisfied?”
“I really am sorry. I shouldn't have pried.”
Danny waved his hand, dismissing her. “You didn't. I'm the one who screamed her name in your apartment and threw bottles across your living room. I can't blame you for being curious.”
“Still...”
“And I don't want you feeling sorry for me, okay? I can't take that shit.”
“Okay.”
“You don't feel sorry for me?”
“I don't, no.”
Danny chuckled. “Good. Because no matter what happened, I'm still a total fuck-up. I haven't done a single useful thing since I came to Alaska.”
“I don't agree with that.”
“No?”
“No. You listened to me. You're the only person that ever believed me about Aleksei. I think that was very useful.”
“Did it ever dawn on you that the only reason I believed you is because we're both fucking nuts?”
“Oh, sure. I definitely think that.” Amanda couldn't keep the smile out of her voice.
Danny smiled in return. “As long we're on the same page then.”
He walked back to the bed and lay down next to Amanda, drawing her mouth to his. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to ignore the line of red drops he had seen along her neck and the blood he was sure was splattered all over the hotel room wall behind her.
Chapter 45
Aleksei opened to door to his guest room, and saw Katie still unconscious on the bed where he had left her. He had foolishly hoped that sedating her wouldn’t be necessary, but her high-pitched, piercing screams when she had first regained consciousness and saw him standing in front of her had quickly dispelled him of that notion. Not that he was worried about anyone hearing her. He knew that wasn’t an issue here in Coldfoot. But he could only take so much of the screaming himself. Katie had a lot to learn before she became his permanent companion.
He had gagged her now and left her on the bed to sleep off the sedative. When she woke up, he’d start teaching her about good manners and ladylike behavior, neither of which inc
luded screaming loud enough to wake the dead. He left the room and closed the door behind him before heading to the kitchen. There was something he couldn’t put off any longer.
Not bothering to put on a coat, as he knew no one would see him here and there was no need to blend in, Aleksei opened the kitchen door and walked outside towards the root cellar. He hoped Maria was still alive, as he wanted her to be Katie’s first kill, but he couldn’t deny that it wouldn’t bother him if she wasn’t. He almost wished he hadn’t left her the food and water he had before he went to Seattle. He had moved on, and his mind was too occupied with Katie to deal with her. Plus, Maria had disappointed him, and he’d never had any tolerance for those who didn’t live up to his expectations.
Aleksei brushed the snow from the root cellar door, and opened it. He walked down the stairs into the cellar, holding a lantern in front of him, and found Maria curled up in a ball in the corner of the dirt floor, her fingers clutching her blanket around her face. He could tell instantly that she was still alive, but he knew she was pretending to be sleeping, regardless of the fact that she’d tried this trick with him before. He was amazed at how truly tedious she had turned out to be.
“Time to wake up, Sunshine,” he said. “I’m home. Did you miss me?”
Maria opened her eyes and remained silent, staring at him with a vacant expression.
“I see you still have some food left,” Aleksei said, glancing at the plates he had left on the cellar floor. “So you took my advice about conserving your resources.”
“Don’t you even want to know where I was?” he asked. “What I was doing?”
“I don’t care,” Maria whispered.
Aleksei grinned. “You’ll care soon enough.”
He walked over to Maria and squatted on his haunches in front of her, bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet. It was all he could do not to tear her neck open right now, but at the same time, she looked so gaunt and frail that it hardly seemed worth the effort. She wasn’t going to be any challenge for Katie at all.
“Sit up,” he said. “Now.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
Maria pushed herself up with arms that were starting to become bony and leaned against the wall. “Satisfied?” she said.
Unable to control himself, Aleksei bared his fangs. He couldn’t conceal his delight at the fear that invaded Maria’s face, and the whimper that escaped from her mouth. So much for the vacant expression.
“I am now,” he said.
He stood back up and paced around the cellar. “I see you still have food so I won’t bother to bring you more just yet. Nice job of conserving your water, too.”
“So you’re leaving me down here now?”
“Yeah, the house is off-limits now, sorry. I have a new guest.”
“What are you?” Maria asked.
“I’m a man with very sharp teeth,” Aleksei said. “I don’t have time to tell you anything more, and maybe if you hadn’t asked so damn many questions you wouldn’t have found yourself back down here in the first place.”
Before Maria could respond, Aleksei headed up the stairs. “By the way,” he said, turning back around. “You don’t have to worry about being Natasha anymore. That was a hopeless cause. I know that now. And you won’t have to be down here too much longer anyway.”
He turned away and walked up the steps, stopping again when he got to the door. Unable to resist, he yelled back to Maria before pushing the door off its hinges.
“You’ll be dead soon enough,” he said. “My new guest and I will see to that.”
Ignoring her cries, he let the heavy door slam shut behind him.
Chapter 46
Aleksei prowled into his study and poured himself a tall glass of vodka before taking a seat in his favorite chair. Maria had riled him up and he found himself regretting the strong sedative he had given Katie to knock her out. He should have gone a bit lighter. He wanted her to wake up now.
But for now he'd have to be content with planning the life he would give her and imagining all they would do together. It wouldn't go wrong now. He wouldn't be too late this time.
Aleksei was starving. He needed to feed, and he needed to do it soon, but he had to find Natasha first. He didn't have time to hunt.
He felt so confused, more powerful than he ever could have imagined, but also more lost. He should have joined Greger and his group of vampires. He needed to be among his own kind and learn how to manage his new life. He'd find the group again once he had Natasha. They'd learn from Greger together.
He raced through the streets of St. Petersburg, moving so quickly he was a blur to the hundreds of injured protestors and beggars who shuffled through the streets like zombies. He occasionally grabbed blond women he thought could be Natasha and tossed them into the gutters when they disappointed him.
Desperate, he knew the only way he could find Natasha was to turn to the one person he loathed above all others. Maksim Bodrov. Aleksei hated to admit it, but he knew Bodrov was the person most likely to know where Natasha was. Once he got the information he needed, he'd kill Bodrov and feed on him to ease his hunger.
Finally, he came upon the St. Petersburg barracks.
“Bodrov!” he yelled. “Maksim Bodrov! Where are you?”
He knew it was possible Bodrov would not be at his post, as most of the St. Petersburg guard had deserted amid the chaos of the protests. He nearly shook with relief when he heard Bodrov answering his calls.
“Who wants to know?” Bodrov yelled, walking towards the sound of Aleksei's voice.
“It's Aleksei Nechayev. I want to speak with you about Natasha.”
Aleksei heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Bodrov entering the room. He dragged his right foot behind him and moved with a stilted gait, his face wincing in pain with every step. Aleksei didn't bother to ask Bodrov what had happened to him. It was of no interest.
“What about Natasha?”
“I need to know where she is. She hasn't shown up at the hospital. It's urgent that I find her!”
Aleksei felt himself losing control as he talked. It was all he could do to keep from jumping on Bodrov and finishing him off.
“You're a little late.”
“What do you mean?”
Bodrov stared at Aleksei, feeling a sense of unease. He had never liked Nechayev and had tried to convince Natasha that he was a nutcase, but he seemed ever stranger now. What was wrong with him?
“I asked you what you mean!” Aleksei yelled.
“I mean you're not going to find her. Natasha's dead. She was killed yesterday in the protests. Knocked over and trampled by a god-damn herd of idiots.”
Aleksei stumbled backwards as if reeling from a physical blow. He stared at the floor and tried to maintain his composure. Surely this couldn't be true? Why had he bothered to find this piece of trash Bodrov?
“Sorry, man,” Bodrov said.
Aleksei saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and looked up to see Bodrov shuffling, pulling his dead leg behind him. He leaped forward and grabbed Bodrov's collar, pulling him half off the ground.
“What the fuck?” Bodrov said. “Get the hell off of me.”
“Where is she?”
“I told you, she's dead.”
“Tell me where she is.”
“I can't...”
“Tell me!” Aleksei screamed.
Bodrov stared into Aleksei's eyes and felt a rush of terror. “They moved the bodies to the Summer Garden, by the Field of Mars. You can probably find her there.”
Aleksei loosened his grip on Bodrov's shirt. “Right. Of course. She's taking care of them. That's what she does.” He stared outside the barracks, imagining Natasha in her nurse's uniform, tending to the wounded, just as she had done to him.
He felt Bodrov shift, obviously trying to pull away from him. He pulled Bodrov's shirt tighter, bringing him closer.
“You didn't take care of her,” he said. “What good are you
? What kind of a soldier are you?”
“There was nothing I could do...”
“Shut up!” Aleksei said. He stared at Bodrov's neck, watching his vein throb with fear. He looked back at Bodrov's face, and bared his newly-made fangs.
Bodrov shook with terror, and futilely tried to pull away from Aleksei's grip. “What the hell? Help! Someone, help me, please!”
Aleksei chuckled at his cries and moved within an inch of his face. “There's no one here to help you. And now that I know where Natasha is, I don’t need you anymore. I’m done with you,” he said, and sunk his teeth into Bodrov's quivering neck.
The screams intensified before Bodrov slumped in Aleksei's arms. Aleksei drained the last drops of blood from the body, and let it drop.
He was gone before anyone responded to Bodrov's screams, or found his dead body crumpled on the floor of the barracks.
Chapter 47
Danny tossed aside a folder of documents pertaining to Russia’s role in WWI, wondering what on earth he was doing back in the archives for a second day. He couldn’t read Russian, and the odds of finding another picture of Aleksei were clearly slim to none. And he couldn’t get behind Amanda’s idea that all this could somehow lead to finding Maria. He’d never been a history buff and that’s all these materials were as far as he was concerned. History. And ancient history, at that.
He rocked back and forth in his swivel chair and let out an exasperated sigh.
“This is a waste of time,” he said. “We’re not going to find anything else.”
“Do you always give up so quickly on your cases?” Amanda asked.
“None of my cases involved sifting through 100 year old documents.”
“Well there’s a first time for everything.”
“Maybe I’ll just leave this to you and go do some exploring around Sitka. It’s a lot warmer here than it is in Fairbanks.”
“It’s balmy here compared to Fairbanks. Sitka is totally different.”
“I think I will go look around then. I can’t stand being cooped up in here anymore.”
Polar (Book 1): Polar Night Page 18