Embrace the Darkness (Darkness Series)

by Lilly Gayle

  Even if one or more of those persons wasn’t human.

  Vincent pulled Megan into his arms as if his touch alone could protect her. “Weldon’s responsible. He’s still researching vampires, and he has Axle. So, we need to find him before he takes another hostage.”

  The clone wasn’t human. It never had been. Does it even have a soul? A conscience? “The clone has to be stopped, by whatever means possible. But I’m taking Weldon into custody.” She wasn’t about to violate his civil rights.

  Vincent snorted. “If you can find him.”

  “I will.”

  “How? You refuse Sonia’s help. You refuse to admit you’re a dhampir. How are you going to find him? I doubt he has a Facebook page.”

  Amber smiled, trying to hold back a laugh. Despite Vincent’s lack of faith in her abilities, she was on familiar ground. “Research. Brains over brawn—or vampire hocus-pocus. I just need to take another look at the case files. The evidence is there. I just have to figure out a way to apply it to vampires—and Dr. Weldon.”

  “The man’s guilty. Why wasn’t he a suspect?” Vincent challenged.

  The prickly vampire rubbed her the wrong way. She clenched her jaw to keep from snapping back. “There’s no motive. He worked with Tina at Baldwin Industries. That’s his only connection to this case. If he was involved in anything more illegal than stealing the money Timmons had stashed in the Cayman Islands’ account, the evidence was destroyed in the gas explosion that damaged Baldwin Industries before the government shut it down.”

  “That wasn’t an explosion,” Gerard said. “The damage was done when Vincent and Sonia rescued me from the sub-basement. Colonel Weldon’s men set a gas explosion afterwards to cover up the truth.”

  “He wasn’t protecting vampires,” Vincent added. “He was protecting his operation.”

  Timmons had known about vampires longer than either Vincent or Gerard knew. He’d been quietly planning for years, which probably explained why some of Gerard’s DNA had survived. Timmons most likely had an alternate research site planned from the beginning. After his arrest, he’d alerted Weldon, and the researcher put those plans into motion with the money stolen from the offshore account. Weldon was wanted by the FBI in connection with the missing money, but local authorities in Virginia were no longer interested, and North Carolina didn’t consider him a suspect in any crimes.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” Gerard’s quiet accusation set her pulse to pounding.

  If she’d trusted him completely, she would have told him the truth about her mother’s connection to Timmons sooner. She swallowed her guilt, unable to meet his gaze. “When my dad was injured in the Beirut bombing, Nicolas rescued him and—” A fleeting thought took root. Her pounding heart nearly stopped beating.

  Her mother’s fear and hysteria had little to do with vampires. She’d known Nicolas. She’d known he was Amber’s father. And she’d believed him dead—the man she loved. The truth had been there all along. Nicolas all but confessed. He didn’t save Greg because they were friends. He saved him because he loved her mother.

  “Amber? Are you all right?” Megan asked.

  Gerard laid a hand on her shoulder. The gentle contact was nearly her undoing.

  “What’s wrong, mon chérie ?” he asked, his voice a salve to her wounded soul. “Why do you cry?”

  Was she crying? She raised a shaking hand to brush away a stray tear. Her throat ached. She swallowed against the pain. “My mother knew about vampires.”

  Slowly turning toward him, she placed her hands on his chest, a silent plea for forgiveness. “Nicolas went to see her after saving my dad—after saving Greg. He loved her. He was the father of her child—my father. She thought he was dead. Then—”

  Emotion closed her throat, trapping the rest of her words. More tears spilled over her lashes. Fearing Gerard’s rejection, she dared to lift her chin to meet his gaze. Pity—love—heartbreak all mingled in the blue depths of his eyes.

  Cupping her cheeks, he raised her face to meet his as he lowered his head and planted the softest of kisses against her forehead. “No more tears, mon amour.”

  She hiccupped. “You don’t understand.” She pulled away, hugging herself against the pain. “She was angry—confused—afraid. Nicolas was in the army when he died—when he was converted. My mother called his former sergeant. Timmons wasn’t a colonel then.”

  Gerard and Vincent exchanged glances, silently communicating.

  “It explains his obsession,” Vincent said at last. “And how he knew we existed.”

  “He believed her story but kept the knowledge to himself,” Gerard added. “It was his chance to advance his career. If he’d succeeded in creating invincible soldiers under his command, he would have been more powerful than the president.”

  Amber dropped her hands to her sides. Her heart ached. Before she could step away, Gerard draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her to his side.

  Swallowing the emotional knot tightening her throat, she said, “My mother wasn’t trying to hurt Nicolas. She must have loved him, and for all intents and purposes, she’d lost him.”

  “I don’t hold her responsible for Timmons’ actions.” His understanding smile eased her conscience. “And I don’t blame you.”

  “Timmons had more than just a couple of years to plan this,” Vincent said. “He had at least a quarter of a century.”

  Pulling away from Gerard, Amber straightened her shoulders and swiped at her tears. Detectives didn’t cry. She had her emotions firmly under control when she said, “Timmons had an account in the Cayman Islands. He siphoned funds from his black ops military project to that account and was arrested for misappropriation of government funds.”

  “The military knew about the cloning,” Megan said. “When Timmons was arrested, he admitted the truth to the senator who headed the Senate Oversight Committee.”

  There was no law against cloning in North Carolina—which was scary as hell considering the technological and biological researched performed at Research Triangle Park. But Timmons had been arrested in Virginia.

  “Only fifteen states have laws against cloning. I think Virginia is one of them, but Timmons wasn’t charged with violating cloning laws, and the media discounted the earlier allegations as rumor.”

  “The military didn’t want the public to know about the cloning,” Gerard said. “That’s why he was charged with misappropriation of funds. But Weldon got away and he needs Megan to continue the experiments. And Axle is his next project.”

  A quiet gasp drew Amber’s attention. Megan’s hands covered her mouth. Her face paled. “He’s going to turn Axle and then test the vaccine. If the dosage is wrong, it could kill him.”

  He might prefer being dead to being a vampire, Amber thought, her guilty gaze seeking Gerard’s. He knew what she was thinking. And he didn’t judge her for it. Gerard hated his immortal nature. It’s why he took the vaccine.

  Tension knotted her shoulders. “It may be too late to save Axle, but I’m going to find Weldon.” She raked a hand through her hair. “There’s got to be more information on him in the case files—something the Asheville PD overlooked.” Then again, her colleagues hadn’t known to look for vampires.

  “You can’t ask for Sheridan’s help,” Gerard said softly. “Or anyone else with the police department.”

  “I know.” And that bothered her. Reid was her partner. She should have his back—share what she knew. But her partner would never believe the truth, and the un-subs were definitely not the usual suspects.

  “Do you really think you can solve a supernatural case using normal police methods?” Megan asked.

  “I’m damn sure going to try. As soon as Gerard takes me home.”

  Megan sighed. “I can’t travel at vampire speed. But I’ll catch the first available flight or drive down, whichever gets me there quickest.”

  “You’re not going,” Vincent snapped. “You’re staying here. Where it’s safe.”

&
nbsp; She raised her chin. “I don’t think so, Vin.”

  “Damn it, Megan. I can’t keep you safe if you keep putting yourself in danger.”

  “You can’t keep me safe if you leave me here alone and unprotected.” She smiled coyly. “Besides, if you find Axle and he’s a vampire, you’ll need me. I may not be a medical doctor, but I’m the only doctor you know with vampire experience.”

  Grumbling under his breath in some language Amber didn’t understand, he turned to Gerard. “I guess I’ll fly down with my wife. Don’t get yourself into any trouble, moj prijatelj. ”

  Amber waited for nerves to twist her stomach into knots. Yet she remained relatively calm.

  Had she used her medication as a crutch since coming back from Iraq? Were the headaches and anxiety a result of not accepting what her mind had been telling her for years? That she was a freak. A hybrid vampire freak.

  Time to embrace my freaky side.

  Chapter 16

  Gerard “flew” Amber back to North Carolina as unceremoniously as he’d transported her to New York. The moment she regained her equilibrium, she gathered the case files from her desk and spread them over the kitchen table. She shoved half the stack toward Gerard.

  He raised his brows but opened the first file without comment and started reading. They sat in silence for a good half-hour, skimming paperwork.

  “There’s not much here,” Gerard said with a grunt, sounding discouraged.

  Distracted, Amber barely acknowledged his comment as she poured through the evidence folder, looking for anything she might use to tie Weldon to the case. There had to be something…

  In a homicide investigation, detectives looked at those closest to the victim first. If they didn’t uncover evidence or leads, they expanded the investigation to include friends, coworkers—anyone who might have a motive for murder. If a motive was suspected, detectives looked for evidence to build their case. Means and opportunity were established later.

  Richard Baxter had lived with his parents and younger siblings. His death devastated the family, and there didn’t seem to be a motive for killing the twenty-two year old community college student.

  Tina Gallagher’s ex-husband had a motive. He also had an alibi. Before going home to his wife and daughter, he’d been schmoosing congressional interns at the Capital Lounge on Capitol Hill. Tina’s mother was dead, and her father was in a nursing home with advanced Alzheimer’s. She had no siblings so investigators looked at Lifeblood employees next. Tanner was the first to suggest a sexual relationship between Megan and Gerard.

  Vincent had been the prime suspect before Tanner and Daniels interviewed him and Megan at their home outside of Cherokee. The hour and fifteen-minute drive to Lifeblood solidified Vincent’s alibi. Just before the time of the murders, he’d been at home on a three-way conference call with Brit Travers and a Hong Kong investment firm.

  The original detectives were unaware of Vincent’s ability to travel the sixty-five miles in a matter of minutes, so they’d dropped him from the suspect list. They were also unaware of Sonia’s ability to manipulate minds and behaviors. Yet despite the vampires’ abilities, Amber didn’t consider Vincent or Megan a suspect.

  She tossed the file aside and picked up the next one. A small red tab taped to the side marked Gerard as a person of interest.

  The origin, route, and destination of Lifeblood’s private jet had been filed with the FAA. Reid had even confirmed the flight data on FlightAware.com—proof Gerard had flown to Alexandria the night of the murders. Sonia had tampered with the website just as she’d manipulated the pilot’s memory and the credit card receipts. But no one had gone to Alexandria to show the night clerk at Morgan Suites Gerard’s photo. Nor had anyone spoken with Dr. Geniss.

  Gerard might be innocent, but the evidence was fabricated. If the night clerk denied seeing him or the doctor failed to confirm the late night meeting in the lobby, Gerard had nine hours unaccounted for—enough time to rent a car, drive to Asheville, and commit the murders.

  The police wouldn’t consider Gerard’s claim of having xeroderma pigmentosum as evidence he couldn’t drive after sunrise. They’d assume he used skin protection and rented a car with tinted windows. And Reid would be the first to accuse him. He didn’t trust Gerard, and he wouldn’t hesitate to get a search warrant for Gerard’s home despite the receipts Sonia had generated.

  Amber looked at the address listed in the files. “Is this your real address?”

  She didn’t know what she’d expected, but a luxury vacation rental in Black Mountain wasn’t it.

  Gerard lowered the folder he was reading and glanced at the page she held in her hands. He read the address and nodded. “Yes.”

  “Do you own or lease?” She knew the area, even if the vacation homes were out of her price range.

  “I own it. It has a privacy fence and not having permanent neighbors prevents anyone from getting too friendly or snooping around. Vacationers aren’t there long enough to ‘get to know me’ and the homeowners aren’t interested in making friends—just money. There’s also a panic room in the basement that provides security and protection during the day sleep when I’m most vulnerable.”

  “Is the panic room fixed up like a bedroom?” Her cheeks flushed. She would not ask if he slept in a coffin.

  “Yes. And I sleep in a bed—not a coffin. I also keep a refrigerator with stored blood, my computer, and personal files and records from my very long life in that room. Don’t worry,” he added, his smile stretching to show the dimples in his cheeks, “no one will find it, even if your partner does get a search warrant for the premises.”

  God, she hated when he read her mind. Even if he didn’t crawl inside her head, he had an uncanny knack for knowing her thoughts.

  Rolling her eyes, she reached for another file. Weldon’s name jumped off the page. Her heart fluttered. “This is it.”

  Gerard leaned closer, his big shoulder touching hers. Warmth settled in the pit of her stomach. She ignored the magnetic attraction and tried concentrating on Weldon’s file.

  Initial investigators didn’t find a current address for the researcher who worked with Tina at Baldwin Industries in Alexandria, Virginia. After Timmons’ arrest, Weldon cleaned out Timmons’ Cayman Islands account and skipped town. Since it was government money to fund a government project, the Feds wanted it back.

  Both the army and the government wanted to avoid ties to Baldwin Industries and allegations of cloning experiments using human cells. So, Virginia investigators dropped all but the embezzlement charges against Dr. Weldon. Once they determined he’d left the state, they turned Weldon’s case over to the Fugitive Apprehension Unit.

  North Carolina authorities weren’t even looking for him.

  Amber lowered the file and looked at Gerard. “If Weldon wasn’t on a federal watch list, I could search public real estate and tax records. But if I run his name for so much as a parking ticket, it’ll send up a red flag to the FBI, and Federal Marshalls will be knocking on my door within twenty-four hours.”

  Worry lines furrowed Gerard’s brow. “We can’t involve the feds. If they discovered anything about vampires, it would be impossible to protect our existence. And I don’t want to think of the possible consequences of manipulating that many minds—even if it could be done.”

  It didn’t matter if Weldon lived in Virginia or Timbuktu. Amber wasn’t interested in his home address. She wanted to find the lab where he was holding Axle and performing his experiments.

  There had to be a way to locate him without involving the authorities.

  Before Sonia killed Timmons, he’d been serving a fifteen-year sentence at Fort Lewis-McCord in Washington State—too far for Weldon to travel with Axle Travers as a hostage. He wouldn’t have risked Axle escaping. Then there was the junkie.

  The cloned vampire—or someone under a vampire’s control—had paid him to mail the letters to Timmons. The junkie lived in Raleigh. Which meant Weldon’s lab was most likely no more
than a day’s drive from either Raleigh or Asheville.

  Amber tapped the edge of the file folder against the table. “Timmons set up a plan years ago. Weldon was part of it. He’d have an alternate site in mind on the east coast to continue his experiments.”

  “He’s a fugitive and a pariah in the medical community. I don’t think he’s working for a medical or Research Company.”

  She dropped the file on top of the stack. “He has all that stolen money. He doesn’t need to work for anyone. And it’s not like he’s seeking accreditation. He could set up a lab in his basement if he wanted to. So, he’s most likely rented something.”

  Pushing away from the table, she abandoned her files and headed toward the living room. Gerard followed.

  “What are you looking for?” he asked when she sat at her desk and turned on her department-issued laptop.

  “Abandoned buildings where Weldon could set up a laboratory.”

  Gerard leaned over her shoulder as she exited the Asheville PD home page and opened an internet search engine.

  “Why not look through police files or databases?” he asked. “You have secure access to the department internet on that thing.”

  “There’s no database of abandoned buildings. So, I figured we could do an internet search to see if there’s anything on the east coast that looks promising. Maybe seeing pictures of what your clone sees will give you a mental connection or something. If you get any ideas on where he might be, I can search real estate records to see who owns the building and then contact the registered owner to see if they’ve rented space to someone matching Weldon’s description.”

  Gerard retrieved a chair from the kitchen and pulled it close enough to read over her shoulder. He leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs. “Once we locate him, you should let Vincent and me handle it.”

  The odds of locating Weldon through Gerard’s mental connection to the clone were next to nil. But she had no other leads.

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Not hardly—not when you admitted you can’t destroy a vampire created from your blood.”