The door swung open. Eric stood on the other side, staring at her for a moment before finding his voice. “Grace! What the fuck?” He stepped under the doorframe, confusion written on his face.
“No, Kincade. You tell me, what the fuck?” She poked him in the center of his chest. “What the fuck did I see tonight? How the hell did he rip half her throat out? What the fuck was up with his teeth? And more than anything, I want to know how the fuck he not only survived a seven-story fall, but stood up, brushed his ass off, flipped me the bird, and strolled away whistling? Fucking whistling, Eric!” Each question or exclamation had been punctuated by the tip of her finger jabbing his chest. Through her tirade, Eric waited with the hint of a smile. “And while we’re at it, why the fuck are you fucking smirking at me?”
“Perhaps you should ask her inside?” a man standing in the foyer behind Eric asked.
“And who the hell are you?” She turned her eyes away from Eric, focusing on the tall one behind him. The guy was about six feet tall, with sandy hair and eyes the color of the sky before a heavy rainstorm.
Eric rolled his eyes, grabbed her forearm and pulled her into the house. Grace tried to fight, but couldn’t break his viselike grip. “If your scent didn’t tell a different story, I’d swear you’d been drinking.” He glanced at the other one who’d spoken. “Nicholas, where can I take her to explain?”
The other man thought for a moment, a slight frown showing before he pointed to a door on the left. “Study’s free. If Christophe’s in there, just tell him I said he can share the library with me if he can’t find another spot. Gods know this place has enough rooms.” A low growl of frustration accompanied his words. With a last glance and shake of his head at Grace, he stalked into the room next to the one where he had directed Eric.
“Come on.” Eric sighed, grabbed Grace’s wrist, and pulled her into the study. “Why don’t you have a seat?” he asked, closing the door to give them some measure of privacy.
“I’m not moving until I get answers, Eric.” She planted her feet.
“Your heart is running a mile a minute.” He got in her face, eyes flashing with frustration. “You need to sit down and relax before you have a heart attack right here.”
“What’s going on? Tell me right now, or I’ll drag your ass to the station.”
He gently pushed her, and Grace’s calves bumped the sofa. Eric smirked, folding his arms over his chest as momentum dropped her into a sitting position. “You don’t have probable cause.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, and rather than play whatever sit and stand game he had in mind, she planted her feet, determined not to move. “I could give a shit about probable cause right now.”
“Fine.” He shrugged and stepped back, giving her breathing room. “What do you want to know?”
“What the fuck did I see tonight? How did the son of a bitch rip her throat out? Why did his teeth look like the canines had been filed to points? How the hell did he survive a seven-story fall? And how the hell did you know my heart is racing? What the fuck is going on?” She knew she wasn’t giving him a chance to answer, but a small part of her wasn’t sure she wanted to hear them anyway. Who would want to hear confirmation of their darkest fears?
“Well, that’s a lot to cover and, to be honest, I don’t know if I can answer them all. As for what you saw, I’m going to take a wild guess and say you saw the Vampire Killer in action.”
“He was just finishing with her, I think.”
From her robotic answer Eric could tell that she was in shock. A feeling that he remembered all too well. He didn’t move, waiting. She pulled her arms tighter around her chest and clamped her mouth shut. If she opened it again she couldn’t be sure about what came out of it.
“He was a vampire?” She asked.
“Yes.”
“A vampire.”
“Yes.” Eric kept his voice neutral, not wanting to spook her further. “Now that we’ve established that part, I can answer more of your questions. His teeth had not been filed to points, they are like that because he is a vampire. He survived a seven-story fall because we can do that. I know your heart is racing because I can hear it. You haven’t taken a breath since I started talking and while it’s not a necessity for me, you might want to do the inhale, exhale thing. Now, why don’t you wait here, think about what else you want to know, and I’ll go get you a drink. Then, you and I will talk about this, like civilized adults.”
“What?”
“Sit. Wait.” Eric turned and exited the room, closing the door behind him. He stood with his hand on the knob, looking at the innocent skeleton key in the lock and considered turning it for a moment before deciding against it. Shaking his head, he turned and crossed the living room to the full bar. He grabbed a bottle of Scotch and a couple of glasses before slowly returning to the study. When he opened the door, pleased to see that Grace had moved and sat in one of the high-backed wing chairs, scrubbing her face with her hands. He walked over to her and held out the hand with the glasses in it.
“Here, take one.” Eric reined in his anxiety and kept his tone soothing.
Grace peered up at him with some trepidation and accepted a glass. “What’s going on, Eric?” She hated the weak, timid timber to her words, but couldn’t help herself.
“You’ve fallen down a rabbit hole. How you respond to what I’m going to tell you is just about the only thing you’re going to have control over.”
“Oh God,” she shook her head, “I don’t know if I want to know.”
“Then stop asking questions,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “Let us handle everything, and you continue going with the flow, pretending nothing has changed.”
She shook her head and took a deep breath. “But if I go with the flow, more people are going to die.” She looked at him for confirmation. “Aren’t they?”
“Yes, they will. But we’re trying to stop that.” He kept his voice level, knowing it wouldn’t help to push her emotional buttons any more than he already had.
“We’re?” She frowned. “You’re mixed up in this more than I think, aren’t you?”
“Yes. But I can’t say much more until you agree that you want to know everything I’m allowed to tell you.”
“Allowed to tell me? What are you into? Some kind of gang?”
“Not quite. It all has to do with what happened back home, that stuff you asked me about the other night, the stuff I couldn’t come clean about.”
“Will you come clean now?” She stared at the drink in her hand as if it were going to come to life and swallow her instead of the other way around.
“I can’t. There’s a lot involved and complete honesty comes with complete trust,” he paused, an impish smile curling his lips, “and a lot of paperwork.”
“Paperwork?” She frowned and furrowed her brow, confused.
“Oh, why don’t you just tell the girl?” a different man, one Grace hadn’t seen before, asked from the open door. Another tall blond with striking lavender eyes, he wore black slacks and a deep purple button-down shirt.
“I am not a girl,” Grace insisted.
The man flashed her a charming smile. “Trust me, cherie, you are a girl to me.”
Eric let out an exasperated sigh. “Christophe, will you please behave?”
Christophe chuckled, “Ahh, but where is the fun in that? Just tell her, mon ami.” The blond gave an elegant shrug, the motion somehow seeming to be a part of a seduction. “It is almost always easier that way.”
“Tell me what?” She resisted a strong urge to stomp her foot, as frustration built, pushing her closer to the edge.
“He’s a vampire, doll.” Christophe folded his arms across his chest and moved so he blocked the one way out of the room. “As is the killer you’re searching for, the one you encountered earlier this evening. For that matter, most of those in this household are, as well.”
Grace immediately began shivering, every muscle and instinct screaming at her to run
. Her muscles didn’t obey, unable to move or even form a coherent thought. She heard Christophe’s voice as though he spoke from a couple hundred miles away when he said, “Give her a drink, you dolt.”
“Dolt? I’m not the one who dropped the bombshell on her without any warning!” Eric’s voice sliced through the fog that had settled in Grace’s mind.
“No, you were just going to dance around it until she died of old age.”
“It’s against the edicts! Maybe you’re suicidal after four hundred years, but I haven’t had that long and would like to continue breathing awhile longer.”
“Come on. You know she won’t blab. Get her another drink and once she snaps out of it, explain everything.”
“Do you have any other brilliant suggestions?”
“A hot bath.” The other vampire replied with a wink before he turned and strolled out of the room.
“What did he mean, you’re a vampire?” Grace’s voice trembled, and she pulled her knees tight against her chest, wrapping her arms around them.
Eric walked over to the coffee table and sat on it a few feet in front of her. He poured another glass of the golden whiskey and offered it to her. When she drank some of it, he set the bottle on the table beside him. “The other night, on the roof, you asked about what happened to me back home. The short version is that I died. A vampire attacked and drained me, leaving me at the brink of death. Another vampire found me and gave me his blood. I technically died, and three days later I woke in a coffin as a full-blooded vampire,” Eric explained, simplifying the entire process because he wasn’t ready to share all of the gory details.
With a look of complete defiance, Grace stared him straight in the eye, lifted the glass to her lips and finished the drink in one long pull. “Show me.” She whispered, but left him no way to ignore it. He knew she needed to see proof for herself.
“You mean the hardware?” he asked, flashing her the full length of his fangs.
Grace’s eyes narrowed, her brow knit together. She tilted her head to the right. “Are they sharp?” She reached out with her fingers.
Eric snapped his head back before she could touch them. “They’re very sharp.”
“What happens if I touch them?” Her eyes were focused on the sharp tips of his fangs, lips parted in fascination.
Eric closed his eyes and swallowed hard, feeling his control begin to slip, the blood lust beginning to rise as he breathed in her scent. “I’m not sure I trust my control.”
“Why not?”
“I think you know, Gracie,” Eric whispered, leaning in close.
“Say it.” Her pupils dilated, pulse sped and the words came out on a breath.
Eric chuckled, low in his throat. “Demanding, aren’t you?”
“I think we’ve danced around this long enough, Eric.”
“Fine.” He leaned in so close that he could feel the heat of her body. “We have trouble controlling our baser instincts, to feed and to kill, when we’re around humans we care about.” His voice drifted to a low husky register. “It’s why I cut myself off from family and friends. I didn’t want the responsibility or temptation to kill them. That applies to you too, Grace, I don’t want to kill you.” He closed the small distance separating them and brushed his lips over hers in a chaste kiss. “Though I do wonder what your blood would taste like slipping down the back of my throat as your vein pumped it into my waiting mouth.” He smiled when he felt the shiver run through her body and saw how dilated her pupils had become in spite of the ample lighting in the room. Satisfied, he sat back and cleared his throat before taking another sip of his drink.
“I didn’t think vampires could drink anything other than blood.” Grace shook herself, gathering the bits and pieces of the world she’d known and holding them close.
“We can. Eating is another animal altogether.”
“Was that a vampire I saw tonight?”
“The victim you found? Had she been bitten?”
“One side of her throat had been torn out. I don’t know.” Grace shook her head. “She might have had a bite on the undamaged side of her neck.”
“Did you call the authorities?” A woman’s voice asked from the open study door.
Eric shook his head and smiled as he turned to look at her. “Done so soon?”
The woman’s brow furrowed for a second before she shook herself and shrugged. “Apparently, I’ve confounded Richard once more. He needs time to figure out how to teach me.” She cocked her head to the left and frowned, continuing, “Since his usual methods are, in his words, about as useful as an umbrella made of toilet paper in a downpour.” The woman finished and strolled into the room, her gaze focusing on the newcomer to their little circle.
“Morgan, this is Inspector Grace Callahan. Grace, this is Morgan Blackstone, my employer.” Eric made the formal introduction while concentrating on his mentor more than his former partner.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Morgan offered a slight nod and sighed. “Now, I know this is incredibly crass of me.” She flashed Grace a brilliant smile, complete with fangs very much like Eric’s. “But you mentioned something about a woman with her throat ripped out?”
“Yes.”
Morgan turned her attention to Eric. “Have you informed Nicholas?”
“No.”
“Do so. I will keep your guest company. If I don’t miss my guess, he will want a word or two with her, as well.”
“Love, we don’t want to scare the girl.” The man with the sandy hair said from behind Morgan. The other woman turned and smiled at him. “What is it you think I should know about?”
“According to Grace, there’s another victim. This one had her throat ripped out on one side. The other had fang marks clearly visible.”
“That doesn’t sound right.” Nicholas stepped into the room and walked over to one of the chairs beside the coffee table. “Can you tell me everything you saw?”
“I saw a man attacking a woman. When I scared him, he jumped from a seven-story building. I ran over, on instinct, expecting him to be dead on the street below. He landed, stayed down for maybe three seconds tops, then got up, dusted himself off, flipped me the bird and strolled away, whistling.” Grace looked at her empty glass and shook her head with a disbelieving laugh. “That fucking bastard was whistling.”
“Do you know what tune?” Nicholas asked.
Grace stared at him for a moment, searching for a hint of mockery, but finding none. Shaking her head in denial about the entire situation, she mouthed no.
“After the perp got up and walked away, what did you do?” Eric asked, keeping his tone light and encouraging.
“I checked on the girl and used the elevator’s emergency handset to call for help. My stupid phone battery had crapped out on me. It was my only option that didn’t require leaving the crime scene.”
“So, the police department came and took care of her?”
“Yes, of course.”
Nicholas stepped closer into the room, rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers. “That would mean the body is with the coroner’s office?”
“Yeah.”
“How soon until an examination is completed?”
Grace frowned. Why am I being questioned, she wondered. “It depends on how busy things are, though generally they try to get them done as soon as possible.”
“Damn.”
“I’m missing something here. What is it?” she asked, not liking being kept in the dark.
“We hide what we are, or try to,” Eric said.
“I never would have guessed.” Grace rolled her eyes as the world began to right itself.
“And, as such,” Nicholas continued, choosing to ignore the verbal taunt, “we must be careful about what the human authorities learn.”
Grace shook her head. “They’ll chalk it up to the vampire killer. A few of the bodies have been found with similar bite marks.” She made a sweeping gesture with one hand. “The authorities think it’s a spre
e or budding serial killer trying to find his signature.”
“In a way, he is,” Nicholas answered, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s a case of a young vampire trying to figure out how and when he needs to feed.”
“You’re saying he’s not going to stop?” she asked as her stomach twisted with dread.
“Unless we can track and take care of him ourselves, yes.” Nicholas paused, trying to decide how much more he could reveal to the young inspector. After a moment, he continued, “He will continue to kill, and if I do not miss my guess, he will become more reckless.”
“Killing more people?” She shook her head. “No, that’s not right. Do you mean he’s going to kill more people than he needs?”
“I mean he’s going to become more creative with each kill. Perhaps even leaving the bodies out where they can be found.” Nicholas sighed. “He was already highly creative and cruel with Emily Stanton.”
“She was one of his?” Grace asked. “The department didn’t have her death on the Vampire Killer’s tally.”
“Yes.”
“But she didn’t have any bite marks.”
“She had bites,” Nicholas answered. When he answered her unvoiced question, he finished, “My Enforcer, Daniel, got there before the police and hid the bite marks.”
“Your who did what?”
“It is what we do,” Nicholas said without apology. “You have your duty. We have ours, Inspector. At this point, while we may not agree on the methods, we are on the same side and have the same goals.”
“And what goal is that?”
“To stop him from killing.”
“And how will you go about doing that?”
“My people and I will hunt and kill him.”
“Your people?”
“Yes. I have different resources than your department, my dear.”
“Can’t you bring him in? Do something other than kill? Why does there have to be more bloodshed?”
“Do you really want a vampire that’s stronger, faster and more brutal than any human in your department locked away in your cells?”
Forged in Flame Page 18