Dark Obsession

by Amanda Stevens

  That’s what worries me, he thought grimly.

  * * *

  “I’ve got to tell her.”

  “You know you can’t. It would be disastrous.”

  Slade glared down at Delaney from across the commissioner’s desk. It was dawn outside, and Slade had to get home before the sun came out full force. His eyes couldn’t withstand the light, not for any length of time. He was cutting it close, coming here this late, but he’d had no choice. He’d stayed outside Erin’s apartment until just a few minutes ago because he didn’t dare leave her alone, especially not after the strange way she was acting. At least now he knew she would be safe—for twelve more hours. Until sunset.

  His temper exploded when he thought about the danger she was in. And it was all because of him. Because he couldn’t be honest with her. “Damn it, I’ve got to tell her.” He slammed his fist against the commissioner’s desk. “How else can I make her realize the danger she’s in? She already suspects, anyway. She couldn’t write the books she writes if she didn’t already believe, whether she knows it or not.”

  “Nick,” the commissioner began in a calm, rational voice. Tall, lean, impeccably dressed, Thomas Delaney could be infuriatingly rational. He leaned back in his chair and eyed Slade speculatively. “Let’s not lose sight of our objective here. Don’t forget the oath we all took. We can’t reveal the Mission or its purpose to anyone. If the citizens out there found out what we’re dealing with, there would be mass hysteria. Civilization as we know it could crumble, and we would have no way to prevent it. You can’t tell her, Nick. You can’t tell anyone.”

  “Then how the hell am I supposed to protect her? She won’t leave until her sister’s killer is caught, and I can’t be sure she won’t be his next target.”

  “She hasn’t gone to that club yet,” the commissioner observed. “That place seems to be the link with the other victims. Except for the old man, of course. And from what you told me, he was the girl’s kill.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Slade asked darkly. “There’s another link. Another reason why those girls were killed.”

  “Meaning you.”

  “Meaning me. And that’s all the more reason why I need to be honest with Erin. Believe me, she can handle it.”

  “We can’t take that chance and you know it. Especially not with someone like her. She already has notoriety because of her books. If she went public with this, it could be the end of the Mission. The end of everything we’ve worked so hard to accomplish. We’d all be declared insane. Or worse,” he said dryly.

  “There are other things to consider here,” Slade said angrily. “We’re talking about Erin Ramsey’s life.”

  “I’m counting on you to keep her safe.”

  “Like I did Simone?”

  A flicker of pain crossed the commissioner’s stoic expression. “That wasn’t your fault,” he said softly.

  “But Simone is still dead,” Slade said bitterly. “Because I couldn’t protect her.”

  What if he couldn’t protect Erin? What if he lost her to the darkness, too? He’d already lost his soul. How could he survive knowing that she had lost hers, too?

  CHAPTER TEN

  Erin slept until nearly four o’clock the next day, but her rest was plagued with dreams about her sister. In the dream, she and Megan were walking together in some sort of dimly lit tunnel when suddenly the path split into two different trails. One way held complete darkness. But rather than being frightening, the blackness exuded a kind of mystical excitement, a subtle beauty only visible to the discerning eye.

  At the end of the other path, a white light shimmered with radiance. It, too, held a special allure, and for the longest moment, both Megan and Erin stood looking down the two tunnels.

  Then suddenly Megan was gone, and Erin had no idea which way she’d gone. “Megan! Where are you?”

  “Here.”

  “Which way?”

  “You have to choose for yourself.”

  And then, when Erin was just about to enter the tunnel with the light, a voice spoke to her from the darkness. A silky, seductive voice, which touched the forbidden desires deep within her.

  “This way, Erin. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  “I’m not one of you,” she whispered.

  “You just haven’t admitted it yet. But you know, Erin. You’ve always known that you belong to the darkness.”

  The dreams went on and on like that until Erin finally shook off the remnants of sleep and got out of bed. But there was something about the voice in her dream, the voice in the darkness, that lingered in her mind. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing the woman who stared back at her.

  You know. You’ve always known that you belong to the darkness.

  The voice was right. She had always known. It wasn’t the darkness that had always frightened her. It was knowing that she was a part of it that scared her desperately and made her deny what she knew in her heart to be true. You know what you have to do, she said to her reflection.

  Blue eyes—Megan’s eyes—stared back at her. Then the illusion dissolved as the telephone on the nightstand shattered the silence of the apartment.

  Erin crossed the room and picked up the receiver. The voice on the other end sounded oddly familiar to her. Hypnotic, persuasive. “Miss Ramsey? This is Roman Gerard. I’d like to talk to you about your sister, if you have some free time today.”

  Erin’s heart leapt with excitement. “Of course,” she said eagerly. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you, as well. Just tell me when and where to meet you.”

  “Come to the Alucard as soon as you possibly can. I’m very much looking forward to meeting you.”

  Erin hung up the phone and hurriedly dressed. This was the break she’d been waiting for. Briefly she thought that perhaps she should call Nick, but almost immediately discarded the idea. He would only try to talk her out of going, and Erin desperately wanted to meet with Gerard, to find out what he could tell her about Megan.

  It wasn’t until she was almost at the theater that she stopped to consider how in the world Gerard had known about her in the first place, and how he’d known where to find her.

  * * *

  Following the side street that ran parallel to the theater, Erin once again located the stage door. She knocked loudly a few times before the door opened inward, and a shadow appeared in the doorway.

  Erin’s hand fluttered to her throat as she studied the dour little man standing there. He wore faded overalls and a ragged flannel shirt, and in one scarred hand he carried a bucket. Surely this couldn’t be Roman Gerard. “What do you want?” he barked in annoyance. “Theater’s closed right now.”

  “I know. I’m looking for Mr. Gerard.”

  “Come about the part, have you?” He eyed her up and down with beady black eyes. “You’ve the right look, I guess. Same as the others. Come back later,” he advised.

  “Are you Mr. Gerard?”

  He cackled like a raven, displaying uneven rows of sharp, dingy teeth. “I’m the janitor, missy. But I reckon I’ve seen enough of your kind to be able to size you up pretty quick.”

  “I’m not an actress,” Erin said coolly, unnerved by the little man’s avid stare. “I’ve got an appointment with Mr. Gerard. He wanted to see me.”

  Something changed in his attitude. A cloud drifted over his expression. He cast a quick, uneasy glance over his shoulder. “He ain’t here now,” he said with a note of urgency in his voice.

  “But I thought—”

  Something moved in the darkness behind him. Erin had just the briefest glimpse of a tall, gaunt shadow staring at her from the gloom. Then she heard a voice, a beautiful, baritone voice asking, “Who is it, Griffin?” There was a shuffling sound, a low murmur as Griffin turned and spoke into the darkness. Then the other voice said, “Ask her to come in.”

  Griffin looked as if he was about to protest, then with a dark glare at Erin, he opened the door wider and let h
er step through.

  Inside, the theater was gloomy. The overhead lights in the auditorium, as well as the stage lights, were off, and the electric bulbs in the wall sconces flickered like candlelight, creating an eerie ambience that would immediately draw the audience into the dark atmosphere of the play.

  Erin shivered as she gazed around the empty theater. The usual hustle and bustle before the premiere of a show was absent from the Alucard Theater. It seemed deserted, and Erin wondered if the play might have been canceled because of Megan.

  Griffin scowled at her from the shadows. “This way,” he barked. He led her through a corridor to the right of the stage and up a flight of stairs to a balcony that hung over the auditorium, providing an excellent view of the stage. It was even darker in the balcony, and Erin began to feel scared. Where was everyone?

  “Where is Mr. Gerard?” she asked, turning to face Griffin, but the creepy little man was nowhere in sight. Erin looked around for a minute, unsure what to do. Her first instinct was to run as fast and as far away from the Alucard Theater as she could, but in the gloom where she stood, she wasn’t even sure she could locate the stairway Griffin had led her up.

  Okay, she thought, taking a deep breath. No need to be frightened. This was a theater, after all. There were bound to be rehearsals later. The actresses and actors would all start streaming in any minute now to get into makeup and wardrobe, and without a doubt, the people who worked behind the scenes were already here, making sure props and costumes were all in place. The feeling of aloneness was just her imagination.

  But…was it merely a fancy or had the balcony suddenly gotten colder? An icy breeze licked down the collar of her coat, and Erin tugged it more tightly around her. She started to ease through the darkness in the direction she thought the stairs were located, but suddenly the stage lights came on, illuminating the area just enough to reveal an elaborately decorated bedroom.

  A woman sat in front of a mirror, brushing her hair, and though the stage was a long way from Erin and only dimly lit, she could have sworn that the woman cast no reflection in the mirror.

  Just an illusion, Erin thought. Just a stage prop.

  But her legs were trembling in spite of herself. There was something so very disturbing about the way the woman looked, the way she was dressed. Erin couldn’t take her eyes off her. She seemed so…familiar.

  And then, as the woman turned and Erin caught a glimpse of her profile, she knew. The woman reminded her of Megan, enough so that the hair at Erin’s neck prickled. She almost started to call down to the woman, but caught herself, realizing that it was all a deception. The woman on stage couldn’t be Megan. Megan was dead. Buried. Just a memory, Erin thought sadly as she watched the stage.

  The actress wore a flowing white gown that seemed hardly more than a whisper of silk, and her long, dark hair gleamed in the candlelight. As she stroked her glossy curls, a breeze from the open window drifted in, and the candle flame danced wildly.

  The woman stood, the silhouette of her body through the gossamer gown revealed as she turned toward the window, a look of quiet exultation on her features.

  A shadow passed across the window, and then in yet another clever chimera, a man was standing before her. He was tall, extraordinarily thin, but handsome and alluring with an almost regal bearing. He wore dark clothes and his long black hair was pulled straight back, highlighting aristocratic cheekbones and full, sensuous lips.

  He took the woman’s hand and lifted it to his lips, and the woman looked as if she might swoon. Erin could have sworn she felt his cool, moist breath against her own fingers as she watched the scene unfolding on stage. She lifted her hand to her face and felt the chill of her flesh. Her heart pounded, and for a moment she wondered if she was dreaming. The play was affecting her strangely, as if she had witnessed this scene before. As if she were somehow a part of it.

  The man spoke and his voice sent deep chills down Erin’s spine. “Such a lovely white neck. Such smooth and tender flesh. Your neck was made for my lips. One kiss, my love. One last kiss before dying.”

  Erin gasped, recognizing the words from Megan’s script. That was why it all seemed so familiar to her. She had read Gerard’s Dark Obsession. The woman on stage was playing Megan’s role. That was why she reminded Erin so much of her sister.

  The woman laughed, and the sound echoed eerily in the theater. The man took her in his arms and kissed her. Erin watched as the woman went limp, overcome with passion, and Erin felt her own blood stirring. The man broke the kiss, and bent her backward over his arm so he could trail his lips along her smooth, graceful neck. The woman sighed and whispered her desires.

  The lights on stage dimmed even more, and suddenly the woman was alone again. Slowly she lifted her head and gazed straight through the darkness until Erin could have sworn she was staring right at her.

  She does look like Megan, Erin thought briefly, just before the woman smiled, revealing long, gleaming fangs in the candlelight. Horrified by the scene, Erin ran. Oblivious of the darkness, she fled, almost falling headlong down the stairs before she managed to gain her balance. With one hand she felt along the wall until she was sure she was in the corridor Griffin had led her through. At last she came out of the darkness into the auditorium and located the stage door.

  She wanted to hurry, wanted to get out into the last remnants of sunshine as fast as she could, but there was a man standing in a passageway near the door watching her. The intensity of his gaze paralyzed her for a moment, then Erin reached for the knob.

  “I wanted to talk to you about your sister.” The beautiful baritone voice, the voice she’d heard on stage, spoke to her from the shadows. Erin’s heart pounded like an erratic drumbeat as she felt her hand tremble on the doorknob.

  He moved toward her, keeping to the shadows of the passageway. His presence seemed hardly to disturb the darkness surrounding him. There was something familiar about him, Erin thought. Something frightening…

  She swallowed, letting her hand fall from the brass doorknob. “What about her?”

  “You look exactly like her, you know. She was very beautiful, so vital and…alive, if you know what I mean.”

  Erin met Gerard’s eyes. Again she had a disconcerting feeling that she had seen those eyes before. “Have we met?” she asked suddenly.

  Gerard’s smile deepened. “It does seem so, doesn’t it?”

  “How well did you know my sister?” Erin asked abruptly.

  He was studying her carefully, his gaze raking over her until Erin grew uncomfortable. She tried to look away from his eyes, but found she couldn’t. They were such an odd color. So light they almost seemed to glow in the dim light.

  “Megan and I became…quite close. She had a rare talent. She captured the essence of my heroine so…magnificently,” he added with a strange glint in his eyes.

  “I see you’ve already recast,” Erin said. “The actress I saw earlier was very good. In fact, she looks like my sister, too. Uncannily so.”

  “Do you really think so?” Gerard asked smoothly as he moved closer. “The actress is adequate for the role, but she brings no special understanding to it. But you…I have a feeling you could capture the spirit of my heroine even better than your sister. Have you any acting experience, Erin?”

  She gave a nervous little laugh. “Hardly. I’m a writer.”

  “Ah, yes. Demon Lover. We have much in common, you and I.”

  “Because we both write about vampires,” Erin said, growing more and more uneasy. The shadows on the wall of the theater loomed, closing in on her.

  “Because of so much more than that,” he said. “Tell me why you felt it necessary to destroy the vampire in the end, Erin. I was very disappointed.”

  “He was evil,” Erin said. “He had to be destroyed.”

  “He was only evil to those who could not understand him. Just think of the knowledge he had accumulated over the centuries. The secrets of the universe he had learned, the power he held in the palm of
his hand. You destroyed the wrong man, Erin. The heroine should have destroyed the vampire’s tormentors.”

  “But you did that,” she said, “in Dark Obsession. Your vampire is the victor.”

  “As it should be. Survival of the fittest, Erin.”

  Their voices echoed in the empty auditorium, reminding Erin once again how deserted the place was, how abandoned she suddenly felt. “I wonder if we could resume this conversation another time,” she asked nervously. “I really must go now, but I would like to talk to you more about Megan. Could I come by in the morning?” When the sun is shining, she thought. When there are people about.

  “I’m afraid I’m not a very early riser,” he said with regret. “Not many of us in the theater are. I often don’t arise until most people are sleeping. But by all means, do come back. I feel we have so much in common. I’m eager to talk with you again. Who knows? I might even convince you to resurrect the demon lover in your next book.”

  “He’s dead,” Erin said.

  “Is he? You never know about a vampire, Erin.”

  Erin’s hand tightened on the doorknob. She could feel his eyes on her, and for some reason she had the chilling notion that he was looking at her neck.

  “Au revoir, Erin.”

  Au revoir, she thought as she opened the door and hurried through. Till we meet again.

  The words made her shiver, made her want to hasten home and bolt all the doors and windows and hide herself away in the apartment until it was morning and she was certain all the monsters had gone away again.

  You’re being silly, she scolded herself. It’s just a play and Roman Gerard is just a man. A very strange man, but just a man. But it was more than that, and Erin knew it. Somewhere inside that theater, somewhere buried in the lines of that play might very well be a clue to Megan’s murderer.

  In the falling twilight, the theater seemed to wear a pall of gloom. The shadows around her deepened, and the wind grew brisker. Shivering from cold and from a growing uneasiness about Roman Gerard and his play, Erin gathered her coat around her and ran toward the street, anxious to become a part of the crowd of people hurrying home from work.