"Where is it?” The man's eyes were wild, and his shock of red hair was a mess, as though he had been running his hands through it at length. “Where the hell is it?” His voice elevated a few decibels as his shaking hands clenched. Then he turned his gaze toward Eron, his eyes emblazoned with hatred and distrust. “You."
He walked like a predator, his head lowered but eyes still connected to where Eron hung from the wall. “Where is it? How did you move it?"
Eron couldn't stop the small chuckle from escaping. “First, I don't know what it is you're looking for, and second, I'm kind of at a disadvantage here. If I could move anything it would be my ass out of these manacles."
"You're talking much better today, like you've got some of your strength back. Maybe you have other powers back."
"Trust me,” Eron said low and levelly, “The first thing I would have done if my powers had returned was turn your ass into barbecue when you first set foot in this room."
"Hmm . . .” The man seemed to ponder that information before retrieving a tined instrument from one of the lab tables. He walked to Eron and held the object in front of his face. “Bend it."
"Pardon me?"
"Bend it!” The man grinned devilishly as he shook the instrument for emphasis. “Bend it or I will ram it straight through your stomach."
Shit. Eron focused on the fork-like instrument, hoping like hell that a small amount of his telekinetic ability was still functioning. He was able to complete sentences without running out of breath since the man had eased off the amount of bloodletting sessions he had been subjected to for the past few months. Maybe . . . just maybe . . .
Nothing.
Eron screamed as the instrument was shoved into his midsection, the pain unbearable in his condition. “I should let you die,” the man said between clenched teeth, “but the master won't allow it yet."
The instrument was retracted, allowing air to hit the fresh wound, burning Eron to such degree he couldn't blink back the tears. He was crying. The man would pay for this, even if he had to come back from death to destroy him, the man would pay for weakening him to this level.
"I will kill you and the demon that controls you,” Eron managed to get out between teeth gritted against the pain searing through his body.
"Not if I find my journal first,” the man said before turning and exiting the laboratory, not stopping to bandage Eron's wound.
Eron let his head fall forward so he could inspect the damage. When he saw the blood oozing out of the open hole, vampire or not, he would have vomited had he anything in his stomach. He needed to sleep right now, reach the mending stage before he bled out completely.
He closed his eyes and summoned sleep, thinking all the while that he might never wake again.
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Chapter Thirteen
"Are you hungry?"
Aria jumped as Christian's voice cut into her thoughts. She'd been awake for hours. After staring at Rialto's sleeping form for as long as she could bear without touching him, all that was left to do to pass the time was think.
"A penny for your thoughts,” Christian said as he entered the room and sat at the end of the bed she was currently reclined on. “Looks like I interrupted some pretty deep thinking. What's up?"
"I'm starved, actually."
Christian grinned, looking even more handsome than usual. “And the other question I asked?"
Aria studied his face, amazed at the amount of compassion she saw in his dark blue eyes. “You really care about Rialto, don't you?"
"He's like a brother to me,” Christian answered without a moment's hesitation. “Why? What are you planning to do?"
"Can you read my mind too?” Aria shifted, a feeling of paranoia washing over her.
"No,” Christian answered with a smile. “Your feelings are written all over your face. You're clearly worried about Rialto and rightfully so. But I also see guilt. Guilt makes people try to fix things."
"I bet you're really good in the confessional."
Christian laughed. “It's not a sport one competes at, but I have learned how to see people quite well over the centuries. I pick up little things in their eyes, the tone of their voice, selected words. I know you have an idea how to help Rialto, and I feel compelled to make sure you're not making any decisions in haste."
"Why?"
"We protect our own."
"I'm not a vampire."
"You are Rialto's soul mate. That makes you one of us. Now, what are you thinking of doing?"
"Nothing, just . . . there has to be a way to stop this thing that's happening."
"Which thing would that be?"
"The sickness. There has to be a way for Rialto to live without changing me over."
Christian's eyes clouded over for a second before he blinked and looked away. “Sometimes acceptance of one's fate is the only means for survival."
Aria watched in surprise as he stood and walked toward the doorway, turning when he reached it. “What is it, Aria?"
She shook her head. “You're supposed to be a man of God. Why can't you believe that not everything is up to fate? Why can't you just believe?"
His grin was slow and sympathetic, never reaching his eyes which were dull and blank. “God granted us common sense and the ability to use it. I believe, Aria, more than I can describe. But I also believe we must do, and that we must figure out some things ourselves."
"So you're saying I can't beat this thing?” She rose from the bed and followed Christian through the narrow passageway, waiting for him to unlock the door which would allow them entrance to the church.
"You can't change what you are, Aria, what you were meant to be. All you can control is the effect it has on you when the change takes over."
Aria still pondered Christian's remark a few minutes later as they stood in a small room toward the back of the church. The room was barely large enough to hold the table and chairs sitting in the center, let alone the small refrigerator which Christian searched for food.
"Here we go,” he said as he pulled out a plastic container and removed the lid, sniffing the contents. “Still good."
Aria watched curiously while he put the container in the microwave and nuked the food. “That's not anything with blood in it, is it?"
His answer was a chuckle.
"Seriously, what is it?"
"Chili. Some of the kids in this neighborhood don't always get enough to eat at home. I make sure I've always got something here for them."
"Do you eat?"
"I can. We all can. It's just not a requirement."
"How do you not get caught drinking blood?"
The timer on the microwave sounded, indicating the chili was done. Christian removed the plastic container, grabbed a plastic spoon out of a tray next to the microwave and set the two items in front of her on the table. He took the seat across from her and steepled his long fingers beneath his chin. Looking at those fingers, she noticed how smooth and light his skin was. It wasn't Rialto's or Seta's deep bronzed tan or her own dark brown. “You're a little pale. I darkened when I tasted blood."
Christian lowered his hands to the table and studied his palms. “I haven't had living blood in a long time. That's partly how I manage not to give myself away. I stay in the church, help those who ask for it. I open the doors in the day as well as in the night, and I'm careful to keep my home a secret."
"You live off of bagged blood."
"I find it more humane. True, I'm not as strong as a vampire my age should be, but bagged blood is easier to acquire. I couldn't live here and risk being found drinking from a mortal in some alley."
"The others get by with it."
"They travel. I choose to stay in one spot until I have no choice but to leave."
"When people start noticing you don't age."
"Right.” He nodded toward the chili in which she was circling her spoon. “Eat or Rialto will have my hide. I'm supposed to be taking care of you."
Aria ignored his orde
r, intrigued with the lack of laugh lines around his eyes and only one crease at the curve of his smile. “How old were you when you were changed?"
He frowned. “I'm not sure."
Aria stared at him. “Why aren't you sure? Surely you'd remember your age."
Christian shrugged, his eyes registering unease. “It's a long story."
Aria pondered that. “How long have you been a vampire?"
"Hundreds of years have passed since the night I was changed over. If you're trying to evade my original question, Aria, it won't work."
"What question?"
He looked at her knowingly. “What are you planning?"
"Nothing.” Aria tried to appear casual as she took a bite of the chili. It was a little hot, but tasted decent enough.
"I'm not allowing you to leave this building without one of us with you."
Aria sighed in frustration. “How did you even know I wanted to leave?"
"It's in your face. You're anxious to be gone from here."
She set the spoon down. “I'm not going to do anything dangerous. I just want to find some information."
"Absolutely not, Aria. Seta has seen your future, and in her vision you were lying on a metal slab, dying. You're not going anywhere by yourself."
"Well, I can't stand to just sit here and do nothing while Rialto wastes away."
"The day sleep is giving him back his energy. He's not dying, not yet anyway.” Christian paused, looked at Aria and opened his mouth as though there was more he wanted to say, but with a shake of his head, he closed his mouth and pushed away from the table. “Eat, Aria. You need your strength, too. I'm going to open the doors for afternoon prayer. You're welcome to join us if you like."
Aria waited until Christian left the room before she pushed the chili away. She couldn't eat when her stomach was in knots. Rialto was lying in a room beneath the church, possibly dying, and she was sitting on her butt doing absolutely nothing to help him. Although she had some prayers which needed answering, she wasn't going to join Christian's prayer group. She needed to find a way out of the church while he was occupied.
The room she was in didn't have a window so that route of escape was out. She walked over to the only door and put her ear against it, listening for Christian. She waited several minutes, but didn't hear a sound. She was in the back of the church. Christian and his prayer group would be in front, in the chapel. So far she'd only seen one door leading to the outside, and it was in the front of the building.
She turned the knob slowly, careful not to make a sound in case Christian also possessed hypersensitive hearing, and stepped into the hall. The hallway was narrow, but fortunately, not too long. She hadn't seen any exits when she came up here with Christian so she turned left, toward the two rooms she hadn't inspected.
The first room was smaller than the one she had just been in and only contained a small cot and a nightstand with a lamp. Like the other room, it was windowless and escape proof.
The second door was locked. Lock-picking wasn't a skill she had ever acquired so she muttered a colorful string of curses and kicked at the door with the toe of her boot. Somehow, some way, she was getting out of here before nightfall.
Aria sat on the edge of the bed and slipped on her boots. She'd waited patiently for Christian's afternoon prayer session to end and watched as he unlocked the door leading to his underground home, carefully memorizing the order in which each lock was unbolted.
An hour after coming back down into the hidden residence, she felt safe enough to venture out. It was about three hours before nightfall. Surely all three of the vampires were asleep. She went straight for the door and slowly, carefully, unlocked it, praying all the while she remembered the correct sequence.
The door opened and she slipped through, carefully closing it behind her, her hands shaking with the fear that one of her protectors would wake up before she left the church. She succeeded and hurried upstairs, stopping at the alarm panel beside the church's front door. She'd memorized the code she saw Christian punch in after his last parishioner left. She felt guilty as she unarmed the system, then reset it so the church and the vampires resting beneath it would remain protected, but she couldn't let precious time escape her when every moment brought Rialto closer to death. She didn't care what Christian said about Rialto regaining his strength. He was going to die unless they figured out a way to save him. Knowing him, Rialto would be too busy searching for the killer to worry about his own survival. That left the job up to her, and she wasn't going to give up on him, not without a fight.
Summer was drawing near, but the air was cool as Aria walked away from the church, wishing she had swiped Rialto's car keys before escaping. This was not the type of neighborhood she preferred to walk in alone. Aria picked up the pace, anxious to get out of the neighborhood before she was mistaken for a hooker.
Almost as if on cue, a car horn blared behind her. Aria kept her head down and picked up speed, almost coming to a jog. She looked at the buildings she passed, but none looked like the type of place to seek shelter. Another blast of the horn caused her to jump. Why hadn't she stayed at the church?
"Ms. Michaels!"
Aria halted at the sound of her name and turned toward the street to see a Crown Victoria roll to a stop beside her. The driver's side window was lowered to reveal the detective who'd been in her apartment just two days before. “I thought it was you,” he said, angling his head out the window. “What are you doing here?"
"I was on my way to Enoch Pratt."
"And you chose to go there by way of the most dangerous street in Maryland?” He nodded toward the passenger seat. “Get in. I'll drive you."
"Oh, that's all right, I'll . . ."
"I'm not asking, Ms. Michaels. I have some questions for you. Get in the car."
Aria's mouth went dry as she looked into Detective Porter's eyes. They were compassionate but stern, the eyes of a man who was not going to take no for an answer. She exhaled a breath and walked around the front of the car, noticing the detective's stare never left her.
"Am I under investigation?” Aria asked as she slid into the passenger seat and closed the door, praying this wasn't a mistake.
"For what?"
"You tell me. You're the one with the questions and the not so friendly face."
"I'm concerned, Aria. There are too many bodies, er, victims, I should say. Sorry.” He glanced at her before putting the car into drive and pulling out onto the street. “Too many victims and not enough clues. It doesn't make me a friendly, happy guy when I'm the man who's supposed to catch this freak and I have no idea who he is."
"Are you sure it's a man?"
"Are we back to your theory that the killer is a vampire?"
Aria rolled her eyes. “If you're going to insult me, I'd rather walk."
"What are you doing in this neighborhood?"
"What are you doing here?"
"Hel-lo. Homicide detective. I practically live here which explains why you shouldn't be in this area. You're not unfortunate enough to live here. Why pass through? Definitely not to get to the library, which is in the other direction from your apartment."
Aria studied the detective's profile as he steered the car onto another road, leading in the direction of the library. His features were devoid of any emotion, his eyes focused on the road before him. “If you have something to say, Detective . . ."
"Jonah."
"Excuse me?"
"Jonah Porter. You can call me Jonah."
"Well, Jonah, what are you getting at? Why did you pick me up? What questions do you need answered, and where is your partner?"
"That's a lot of questions. Let's see. My partner's sister is having a baby, so she's at the hospital. I picked you up because there's a serial killer on the loose and this isn't a good neighborhood for a woman to walk alone in, serial killer or not. I also need to know about your friends."
Aria's heart skipped a beat. “My friends?"
"Yeah, particu
larly the two I saw walking around late last night. You want to explain to me how a teenage girl can pick up a six-foot plus man and disappear within the blink of an eye?"
Aria's breath caught in her throat, sending a sharp pain through her middle. How could she possibly explain what he had seen? And why hadn't Seta and Rialto been more careful? Hell, Rialto probably hadn't been in any condition to cover his tracks, and Seta's concern for him could have clouded her judgment. “I don't know what you're talking about."
"That might have sounded believable, if not for the shaking in your voice."
"Look, whoever you saw—"
"I saw the man who calls himself Rialto Renaldi, your fiance, as I recall. I saw him fall down and I saw a girl no more than eighteen, nineteen tops, pick him up, throw him over her shoulder and then poof, she was gone."
"Obviously you're not fit for this job if you imagine things like that! And to think you scoffed at me when I said a vampire killed my mother. At least there were holes in her neck to support my theory."
"Are they people, Aria? Who the hell moves like that?"
Unsure how to respond, she opted for treating the detective the way she'd been treated when she'd given the homicide department the theory that a vampire had killed her mother. “Were you by chance drinking when you saw them, detective?"
"Don't be cute, Ms. Michaels. I'm trying to help you."
"Then find the monster who killed my mother."
"I'm trying to. Tell me about Renaldi."
Aria grinned. “He's tall, good looking. Great in bed . . ."
"That's real cute. Do I need to show you the pictures of your mother after she was found?"
Aria's mouth gaped as she stared at him in enraged horror. “How dare you."
"I'm glad to see that you agree this isn't a matter to be joked about.” He pulled over in front of the library and turned to face Aria head on. “Something sick and twisted is going down in this city. Your mother and others like her were left abandoned, their bodies completely drained of blood, and the only wounds were two small holes in their necks. Evil is in the air, and last night I saw something that defies rational explanation. I ask you again, Ms. Michaels. Who is this man you call your fiance, and what the hell is he?"
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