I found him in front of a revolting bloodstained altar made out of a high wooden sideboard. Most Voodoo practitioners tell you to make two altars, one to God and one to the devil, but always make the altar to the devil smaller. There wasn’t an altar to God anywhere in the room, just one altar for evil. It was as psychically active as the doorknob. Not a drop of power coming from it, which meant none of the items were charms or magical jewelry. The only things that even looked important were two icons. I recognized Baron Samedi, the Loa, or spirit of death. He was a black man as skinny as a skeleton dressed for a funeral in a top hat and tails, his skull visible through his thin skin.
“Friend of yours?” Danny pointed.
“Nope,” I thought about it for a minute and changed my mind. “Maybe. But I know you two are close.” I pointed to the other image on the table of a skeletal woman in long flowing robes. “La Santa Muerte?”
Danny shook his head. “I don’t know who you think I’m hanging out with, Mors, but I do not know her.” His voice was defiant.
“Sure you do. She’s Mary or a variation on Mary, like Mary of the Sorrows, only for doing bad things.”
“Doesn’t look like the Madonna I know.” His voice sounded sad, I knew he could see the resemblance between the picture of the Holy Mother in his living room and this unauthorized version, a saint that the church would never canonize. She had a glass of tequila in front of her, a few flowers beside it. Santa Muerte was outside the realm of regular Voodoo, but that hadn’t stopped the Madame Marie from praying to her. I wondered why.
We told the uniforms to bag it and tag it, take the entire altar as evidence. They looked less than pleased, but it was their job. Besides, I was drained, utterly exhausted by the long day. It felt like years since I’d been talking to Danny about Ireland over lunch, and at least decades since I’d kissed Jakob goodbye this morning. I was anxious to get back to him.
We left the rest of the clean up to the night crew. There was an arrest warrant issued for Madame Marie. Danny had already given a complete description to the sketch artist. We drove back the office as quickly as possible, wrote out the briefest of reports, and told our night shift counterparts everything they needed to know in record time. I told Danny to give his girls a hug for me and climbed into Jakob’s car. I drove to his place too fast, with the top down, the wind cleaning the last bits of stink out of my hair.
The sun hadn’t started to set by the time I got there. Jakob’s house was built into a series of caverns, most rooms didn’t have windows, and the front door faced east. Despite the double-locking vampire doors, I always worried about letting sunlight into the room. I found Jakob in black silk pajamas watching TV. He paused the broadcast as I entered the room, looking up at me with a startled expression.
“You’re bleeding.” It wasn’t a question. He could smell my blood through the Band-Aid.
“Only a little.” I plopped down on the couch next to him, playing it cool. “How’d you sleep?”
“Like the dead,” he replied. It was a joke between us, and his answer didn’t mean his mood had lightened. He didn’t ask what happened, and I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. I turned toward the TV.
“That looks surprisingly like Danny’s priest.” I’d only attended church with Danny’s family a few times, but I still recognized the Catholic Mass and the priest presiding over it.
“It may be. Father Samuel from St. Patrick’s.”
“Yup, that’s him.” I wondered who would break first, me about my ugly day or Jakob about what he’d been watching. The clock ticked, and as always, I spoke first. Vampires have an annoying ability to sit quietly.
“I met a werejaguar who owns a chocolate shop, great stuff. I’ll have to take you some time. After that zombie hands and an actual zombie attacked Danny and me. I passed out a little, the EMTs gave me an IV, hence the blood. So are you going to tell me about watching this?”
“I can’t go into a church. Even if I could find one that was free of crosses, there would be too many holy items and holy water. This is my only option,” he shrugged. I guess if I could summarize my day in four sentences, he could sum up his religion in three.
“I always thought you were raised Lutheran, not Catholic. Now, you’re not, well I mean,” I stumbled over the words. “I didn’t realize you were still religious.”
“No one has ever put it that way.” He sighed heavily, the sadness coming out with the breath he didn’t need. “Yes, despite it all, I’m still religious. It’s how I was raised. It’s who I am. But I can’t attend services anymore.”
“Doesn’t this count as attending?” The look on his face made me wince. “I’m asking, not judging. I was raised none of the above, I have no idea how it all works.”
“It counts but I still miss the community of the church. The last church I attended was like a second family. When someone was sick, we comforted each other. We worked together and welcomed new people. I don’t think I’d be welcomed there now.”
“I don’t think you’re giving Father Sam enough credit. He’d probably be willing to come here to perform the mass for you.”
“Do you really think so?” His smile was half amusement and half sadness.
“Well, he shook hands with a death witch with no problem a few Sundays ago. I can’t see why a vampire would be that much different. Besides, you’re rich.”
“And that solves everything?” His smile was now completely amused.
“No, but it makes everything easier.” I kissed him softly. I was dating a walking contradiction, he couldn’t eat but loved to cook, he couldn’t as much as look at a cross in the presence of a believer, but he missed church. It was incredibly endearing. Jakob swept me up in his arms and hugged me close. The oven dinged behind him.
“Now tell me more about the zombie, or you’re not getting any of the fresh bread.”
I struggled against him but only for a minute. Jakob’s bread was worth telling my darkest secrets.
My dinner was an old favorite of his: bread, cheese, and milk. It was simple and satisfying, especially when the bread was hot and fresh. I told him the story while I ate. It was impossible to recount an attack by dismembered hands without shivering a little, which made my next thought seem a little insane.
“I was thinking that I’d stay at my place tonight.” I kept my voice deliberately casual.
“I was considering staying home from work with you, and you’d rather be alone? Why?”
“Because if something had happened to me, you wouldn’t have been able to come to me, I had your car. I don’t ever want to wake up in a hospital alone, so it makes more sense for me to stay at my very secure apartment while you’re working. I’m not saying anything else is going to happen, but I want you to be able to get to me if it does.” I finished my argument and stared at my bread. I wasn’t willing to admit how much it meant to me that he had picked me up from the hospital the last time I’d been hurt in the line of duty. This time I would have been alone, and the idea made me queasy.
“That sounds more like an argument to buy you a car than for you to sleep alone.” He took my hand and kissed it gently. “Mallory, if something had happened I would have flown to your side.” He meant it literally. I had forgotten Jakob could fly.
“I met people all day who are strong enough to be threatened by zombies and not move or give in. I don’t want anyone to force me out of my life.” I blushed at my own illogic.
“That argument makes a great deal more sense. I’ll drop you off on my way in, and then stop by in the morning.” Jakob went into the bedroom to dress, ending our conversation. I was grateful. After meeting Indigo and Rakesh, I was half-embarrassed that I had left my apartment after one threatening phone call. But after dealing with the zombie, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go back alone. Having Jakob stay with me was a perfect compromise. I just hoped the case wrapped up quickly. I didn’t want to offend his religious sensibilities, I had no idea how he felt about cohabitating.
I pu
t away the last pieces of bread and went into the bedroom. There was something about a room without windows that always surprised me. Light filled the space, but not from any one side. No matter how many times I entered it, it still looked odd. If I couldn’t get over it soon I’d have to convince Jakob to put up drapes that were always shut.
The idea of trying to get him to decorate his Spartan quarters reminded me of the other thing I wanted to convince him to do. He was buttoning on a bright blue shirt that brought out the blue in his eyes. Between its French cuffs and the black suit, I knew he had some meeting.
“So what do you have to do tonight at work?” I asked, trying to sound innocent.
“Review some proposal from architects who are hoping to refurbish a warehouse downtown into a shopping mall, sit in on a series of insipid teleconferences with people half way around the world, and talk to a construction manager about why he cannot seem to keep his budget under control.” He looked at me quizzically. “You know I could do most of it from here if you’d rather I stay.”
“No, no, it’s not that. I was curious if you’d invested in a restaurant or maybe, say, the food industry lately.” I put my arms around him to help him tie on his tie.
“Not since Ruesos’.” He turned around and kissed me. Ruesos’ had a private wine cellar room that Jakob had booked for our first date. It was the fanciest place I had ever eaten, certainly not the same level as Indigo’s chocolate shop.
Jakob turned back to the mirror to check his cuffs. “It’s a shame actually. I guess people don’t think to bring me the fun projects, just the expensive ones. I wouldn’t mind having a hand in writing a menu instead of arguing how much steel girders should cost.”
“Really?” I tried to catch his eyes in the mirror and look seductive. My seductive look was slightly over the top. “I may have found a fun project for you then.”
“Are you trying to seduce me to get to me to invest in something?”
“Would it work?” I asked.
“You might have to try a little harder,” he said, turning to face me. I stepped closer to him and began to nibble on his ear gently.
“There’s that chocolate shop I’d like you to see,” I breathed quietly into his ear. “If things worked out, I would always have chocolate to lick off your body.” I kissed the side of his neck, and ran my hands through his hair, deliberately ruining its perfect part. I brought my mouth to his and kissed him hungrily. He kissed me back and lifted me on to the bed.
“But you just got dressed!” I protested.
“And I can get dressed again,” he said, his voice filled with desire. He kept his mouth on mine, kissing me and unbuttoning his shirt at the same time. He moved too quickly, using vampire reflexes, and I was naked before I realized what he was doing.
His mouth trailed down my body, leaving tingles of desire as it went. He reached the center of me and stopped. I was breathless waiting for him to speak. Finally, he looked at me and said, “I do not need chocolate to lick off your body.”
He put his mouth on me, and I moaned. His tongue captured the tender parts of me and caressed them. I moved against him, my breath coming in short pants. The pleasure began to build inside me when he slowed. He rested his head on my thigh, placing gentle kisses where firm caress had been.
“Not yet, my love.” He stroked my leg, moving his hand from knee to hip in a fluid motion. His hand ended its journey at the core of my body. He slipped his fingers inside of me, searching for that spot his shaft found so easily. When he found it, the sensation made me gasp. I called to him. I begged. I screamed. All while he persisted on giving me pleasure, never breaking the sweet torture of his tongue.
Passion ripped through my body. It was too much, more than I had expected. I arched my body into his mouth, forgetting everything but primal lust. I moved hard against him, aware only of the increasing pleasure he gave me. Suddenly my body betrayed me, finishing in a burst of sensation. I collapsed onto the bed beneath him, panting, clinging to him as if I had been about to drown.
He moved from between my legs and kissed me gently, first on my cheeks, then when my breath had finally returned, on my lips. He eased into me, rubbing that place again with his hardness. A gentle heat rose again from between my legs. Jakob kept his eyes on mine, our faces close. He whispered to me in our private language, the sound of it bringing me even closer. My second peak was softer but no less powerful.
He watched my face, smiling, and then leaned back and gave in to his own pleasure. He lost control, and I felt him pour himself into me. He crumpled on top of me, completely spent.
“I love you,” I whispered. I pushed him over gently, enjoying the chance to look at him in the light. We usually made in love in the moonlight or with the lights on low. With his bedroom lights up, I could see all sorts of delicious details. The hair on his legs was tight blond curls. I ran my hand through it watching it shine in the light. I rested my head on his knee, running my fingertips where the hair became softer toward the center of his legs. Softer, and blonder but that could have been because of the pinkness of his skin. I’d never known a man so blond; it was fascinating. I caressed him softly, cupping his body as I moved it aside. A scar revealed itself, one so old it was pale against his skin, two tiny circles in the flesh high up inside his right thigh.
“What are you looking at so intently?” he asked, his voice held a mix of amusement and languor. He was as spent as I was.
“You have a scar here.”
“A very old scar.” His voice went quiet, warning me of a sensitive topic.
“I thought a man made you, this is where a woman would bite.”
“Not always,” he said in the same tone.
I suddenly worried that I was about to ruin the moment. “I’m sorry; we don’t have to talk about this.”
He sighed. “If we don’t, it will turn into a tender subject we never discuss. I don’t want that.”
“But I don’t want to hurt you.”
“The pain is old but not dull.” He curled up and brought me to his chest. “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t know. It made me who I am.”
“If you’re sure,” I hesitated, curious but cautious. Lying next to him, our bodies pressed together, faces inches apart talking about this subject felt more intimate than the sex we’d had, dangerously intimate. He nodded but took a minute before he spoke.
“Johannes was nine; of all the boys, he had my coloring and Elsebeth’s demeanor. They were both gentle, calm.” He smiled at a memory that was old enough to be called ancient. “He was wonderful with his sisters. In another year he’d take a wife, and I dreaded the way it would change our family.”
“At ten?” I said without thinking.
He laughed. “I was married at ten. How old do you think I am?”
“Thirty?” I looked at the lines around his eyes. They were faint but there. “Maybe thirty-five.”
He feigned a look of shock. “I was twenty-three. In the fourteenth century, people didn’t live to thirty-five that often.”
“I’m older than you are.” We’d been together long enough I thought I knew everything about him. I was amazed to discover he was so much younger than I was.
“I was married with seven children. Elsebeth had been pregnant eleven times. I don’t feel younger than you.”
“Fair point, I’m sorry I interrupted.”
“Not at all.” He kissed me gently. “The vampire came for Johannes. He had a preference for young men. In the early evening hours, he tried to buy my son as an apprentice.”
“Was that common?”
“Somewhat, but I wouldn’t let him go. Frederick was apprenticed and Albrecht…but Johannes…” he let his voice trail off.
“He was your favorite; you didn’t want him to leave.”
“Good parents don’t have favorites,” he said, but his look told me I was right. “When the attack happened it was chaos. The girls were screaming, the baby was already…” he shook his head not willing to relive th
ose memories. “Johannes ran upstairs, in his terror he fell into the wheel of the mill. By then we were the only two left alive. I fought as much as I could but the vampire held me in thrall. I struggled against it, and because of my spirit, he took me in my son’s place.”
“But why here?” I asked, my hand tracing the pattern of the scar.
“You don’t understand.” He softly took my hand and kissed it, then pulled me closer. “In the century I was with him, I was his oldest lover.”
I moved back, stunned. “But you’re not…”
“No, I’m not, and I never have been. When a vampire takes your mind, it doesn’t matter what you are. Will you never see how depraved we are?”
“Whatever made you, you’re the most moral man I know.” I kissed him to stop his protests. “Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry.”
“Fighting him made me strong. Strong enough to survive until I found you.” His smile was sad. “A dear friend once told me life is balance, and grave sadness is balanced by great joy. With such behind me, we can have only happiness ahead.”
Tears came to my eyes. I couldn’t find words to say. Instead, I held him close to me for a long time.
Chapter Four
“Will you find another voodoo practitioner to help you fight this one?” Jakob asked. We were driving into the city, the car a bubble of safety in the dark night.
“It hadn’t occurred to me actually. I’d assumed we’d charge her and let the court deal with her.”
“Someone who makes zombies and employs werewolves might not be so willing to let things go. Even after she’s charged and incarcerated, she may still come for you.”
I frowned at the thought. He was right. I hadn’t thought past getting her to trial. I was very happy with how my job worked. I put the bad guys in the hands of the courts and never dealt with them again.
Under a Blood Moon Page 5