Embrace the Darkness (Darkness Series)

by Lilly Gayle

  “But I could make Weldon pay for his crimes without dragging you into it. Vampires have the power to exact retribution without fear of detection or reprisals. It’s a power few mortals will ever realize. And yes. It corrupts.”

  Does he feel corrupted?

  Staring into his eyes, she saw images from his life flash before her eyes. She gasped, her nails biting into her palms.

  Was he sending her mental pictures? Or was she somehow able to read his thoughts?

  He had killed—in the same violent manner in which her mother died. But he wasn’t a murderer. The men he killed were already dying—or they were a threat to society. Had he worn a badge, he would have been forced to shoot—just as she’d done in Iraq. And living with those deaths was as hard for him as pulling the trigger had been for her.

  She touched his knee. “Some deaths are unavoidable, and some men deserve to die. But I can’t condone violence unless it’s in the line of duty.” Even then, it was hard to get past the taking of a life. “If we find Weldon, I’m going to arrest him. Not kill him.”

  Their gazes locked. She could see the ghosts in his eyes. They still haunted him. So did his need for revenge.

  “You’re not like those other vampires,” she added when she sensed his anger. “You still possess a soul—a conscience. If you kill Weldon merely for revenge, it will haunt you.”

  He dropped his gaze, his sigh tearing at her heart. “I’m not so sure. If it wasn’t for the regenerative sleep, I wonder how easily I’d rest.”

  She squeezed his knee. “You did what you had to do to survive. The fact that you feel guilty proves you have a soul.”

  “Then you’ll trust me to handle this?”

  She smiled. “Not a chance.”

  Turning back to the computer, she hesitated. Weldon didn’t need an entire facility. Just a couple of rooms. He’d want to find some place away from major cities. Some place that wouldn’t attract too much attention if lights shone through the windows at night.

  She typed “abandon US laboratories” into the search engine.

  “This is interesting. If a university professor quits without providing for the final disposition of hazardous research materials, the lab is listed as ‘abandoned’ even if it’s still useable.”

  “I don’t think he’s working in a university lab,” Gerard said. “Too hard to blend in on campus.”

  “I know. But it goes to show an abandoned lab doesn’t have to be unusable.” She clicked a website containing pictures of an abandoned bio-chemical laboratory. “Looks like they left behind files. And equipment.”

  “Broken equipment,” Gerard said. “Refurbishing a lab costs money, with or without FDA approval. So does renting or purchasing real estate like that.”

  “He has the money. Or he could get his vampire to use his hocus pocus tricks to gain access to the building without money exchanging hands.”

  When she verbalized her thoughts aloud, it sounded stupid, even to her. But the idea took root and blossomed. Weldon was using an abandoned facility. Every instinct she possessed—cop, soldier, dhampir—agreed. She was on the right track.

  Frustration knotted the tendons in her neck as she continued to search. Most of the websites pertaining to abandoned labs led to gaming sites. Undead Avengers. Lethal Contagion. Mad Science II.

  Are any of these video games based on real vampire encounters? In one, the vampires were the heroes.

  “Maybe I should be looking for abandoned hospitals rather than deserted labs.” Her skin tingled when she thought of hospitals. She could almost see the vampire clone with Gerard’s face in her mind, walking down a narrow hall with peeling green paint.

  Returning her attention to the keyboard, she typed “abandoned US hospitals” and got multiple hits. Some of the buildings had been abandoned for more than a century.

  Third down on the list was a link to an urban exploration database.

  In recent years, urban decay had led to the exploration of abandoned buildings and other areas of society deemed off-limits to the public. Entering abandoned buildings without permission was dangerous and illegal but urban exploration or Urbex was becoming a popular hobby, especially among professional photographers.

  Even the photographs taken by amateurs evoked a visceral reaction. They captured an odd beauty in the unlikeliest of places—a glimpse of a forgotten past—a portent of the unpredictable future.

  Despite creeping kudzu and century-old neglect, the aesthetics and architectural beauty of some of the old buildings survived. It seemed a shame not to restore them.

  Shaking her head, Amber navigated the Urbex website until she found a link to abandoned hospitals. The oppressive, haunting pictures touched off a firestorm of images in her mind—brief mental flashes too illusive to grasp.

  Over-active imagination? Or some sort of paranormal psychic ability?

  Fueled by determination, she clicked a hospital link.

  “He’s not in South Carolina,” Gerard said, referring to an image on the computer monitor.

  The intricate crown molding, stained glass window, and dusty planked floor on the third floor of an abandoned asylum in South Carolina looked more like an abandoned ballroom. In contrast, windowed doors on the patient rooms locked from the outside and bars covered the windows. Without the dirt, grime, and green moss creeping across the floor from a leaking roof, the room would still be depressing.

  A century ago, the mentally ill had been locked away, sedated and restrained with no hope of recovery. Amber shuddered and continued her search. Nothing about the South Carolina asylum triggered any sort of psychic reaction. Just an emotional one.

  “Some of these hospitals are used for horror movie locations and paranormal investigations.” Nearby residents would be used to temporary renters. Weldon could set up shop and post guards. Only the vagrants would be disturbed.

  “That would suit Weldon’s needs,” Gerard said with an almost imperceptible shiver. “He definitely fits the criteria of mad scientist.”

  There were abandoned hospitals in all fifty states. Most were TB sanatoriums, asylums, or condemned mental institutions abandoned fifty years ago or more, but some were small town hospitals that had outgrown neighborhood locations. She clicked another link.

  Oppressive pictures filled the screen. In one, light from a dirty, broken window shone on the rusty frame of a hospital gurney—a haunting spotlight. A ghostly image.

  Gerard’s hand settled on her shoulder. The unexpected contact sent an electric shock to her brain. A vision shimmered in her head, just out of reach.

  “You can sense him too. Can’t you?” He leaned closer, peering over her shoulder.

  The image sharpened, becoming clearer—an image not visible on the computer monitor. “We’re definitely on the right track.”

  She loathed admitting the truth. Doing so meant acknowledging her abilities.

  “My touching you is like an antenna,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “You’ve been in contact with my clone. His imprint should be familiar and since I share his DNA, it should boost your ability to connect with him. Try linking your thoughts with mine and then concentrate.”

  She nodded, unable to speak. Her mind reeled. The images in her head intensified.

  “I feel it too. A connection to my clone. I can’t be sure where Weldon is, but my clone is sleeping in an abandoned hospital in North Carolina.”

  “He’s asleep? Now?”

  “Yes.”

  Amber looked toward the darkened window. “Why’s he asleep in the middle of the night? Isn’t that prime hunting for a nocturnal creature?”

  As soon as the words left her mouth, she cringed. Embarrassed heat flooded her cheeks. “Sorry,” she said, glancing briefly at Gerard. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that, well—”

  “It’s okay, mon chèrie. We are nocturnal in nature. Since vampires are only dangerous at night, I imagine Weldon is using the garlic-extract sedative to keep him sedated and under control
.”

  Heart pounding, she turned fully in her chair to face him. “Maybe he’ll still be sedated when we find him. Then, we’d only have Weldon to deal with—and I can arrest Weldon.”

  And charge him with what? Unless they found Axle or evidence Weldon had killed Tina and Richard, she couldn’t charge him with a crime. But she could turn him over to the Feds—if she could get close enough to detain him.

  Fear settled in her gut. Weldon had created a cloned vampire—a vampire he used as a bodyguard. “What if the clone’s not asleep when we go in? What if—”

  “Shush,” Gerard said as he placed two fingers over her lips.

  Heat sizzled between them. He leaned forward, eyelids drifting closed. Their lips touched and…

  The doorbell rang.

  Springing apart like two lovers caught in the act of adultery, they turned toward the foyer.

  Gerard’s gaze narrowed. “Expecting someone?”

  “Vincent and Megan.” She rose to her feet.

  “It’s too soon for them to be here. They had to catch a flight,” Gerard said, rising to stand beside her.

  Amber retrieved her gun, holding it against her side, barrel pointed toward the floor. As she approached the door, she motioned to Gerard. “Stay back.”

  He mumbled something in French.

  Casting a quick glance over her shoulder, she said, “What was that, Frenchie?”

  “No way in hell, mon chèrie.”

  Smiling despite the fission of fear that snaked down her spine, she leaned toward the door and peered through the peephole. Reid stood on the other side.

  Her heart dropped to her toes. “Well, shit.”

  Chapter 17

  Reid Sheridan didn’t wait to be invited in. When Amber opened the door, he waltzed across the threshold as if he belonged inside her home. The smile splitting his face turned into a scowl when he noticed Gerard.

  “What the hell is he doing here?” Sheridan narrowed his gaze, his hand going for the gun he normally wore under his suit jacket. But Sheridan wasn’t wearing a suit. He was wearing jeans and a polo shirt. Casual wear. For what seemed like a casual visit.

  Jealousy burned a hole in Gerard’s gut. He stepped closer. “I was invited. Were you?”

  Amber moved between them. “Enough.” She cast a reproving look over her shoulder at Gerard before turning to Sheridan. “What are you doing here, Reid? It’s after eleven.”

  “I dropped off my date a few blocks from here and was headed home. I saw your lights and thought I’d stop by.” He nudged her aside, stepping in front of her as if staking his claim.

  The fury burned hotter. Gerard’s gums tingled. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to show his fangs. He leaned forward. Amber elbowed him in the gut.

  “The alpha dog routine doesn’t impress me,” she snapped when he grunted. “And you.” She pointed to Sheridan. “Back off. Gerard’s a guest in my home.”

  “He’s a murder suspect,” Sheridan snarled.

  “No. He’s not. He’s been working with me on the case.”

  Sheridan looked as if she’d shot his dog. His face fell. “What?”

  With an exasperated huff, Amber turned and closed the door. Tension radiated across her shoulders and down her spine. Gerard saw it in the stiffness of her movements. Felt it in his gut.

  Turning slowly, she faced her partner. “Gerard gave me the name of a viable suspect. Dr. Steve Weldon. He used to work at Baldwin Labs.”

  “Tina Gallagher worked with him at Baldwin.”

  “Exactly.”

  Sheridan didn’t look impressed. “He was never a suspect.”

  Amber glanced at Gerard, asking with her eyes how much to share. He took pity on her and told Sheridan about Colonel Timmons—leaving out the vampire angle.

  “He was supposed to supervise medical research to improve a soldier’s endurance in the field,” Amber added. “But the army never sanctioned cloning or some of the other unethical experiments that went on at Baldwin. When the military found out, they closed the facility and arrested the colonel for misappropriation of funds.”

  Gerard added details about the money Weldon had taken from the Cayman Islands account. “Amber thinks he’s using it to continue Timmons’s research.”

  Before turning back to Sheridan, Amber gave Gerard a smile that hit him like a bucket of sunshine tossed into the darkness of his soul. His heart thumped.

  “Weldon blames Dr. Harper, and in turn, Vincent and Gerard for putting a stop to the experiments,” she said. “I think the attack at Lifeblood was aimed at them. Tina Gallagher and Richard Baxter were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “How are they responsible for ending the experiments?” Sheridan sneered when he looked at Gerard.

  Gerard met his challenging stare. He could use glamour if he wanted, but why bother when facts would suffice? Or at least, the recorded facts. “Megan and Tina left Baldwin when they realized Weldon was performing illegal experiments. When Vincent and I found out, we informed Senator Sherman Jackson. Sherm is head of the Senate Oversight Committee. Lifeblood of America was a major contributor to his re-election campaign. After Timmons’ was court-martialed, Weldon took off with the money. He’s been on the run ever since.”

  Sheridan frowned. “If Weldon’s a fugitive, he should be in the system.” He looked at Amber. “Have you run his plates? Or checked for activity on his credit card? I’m sure the Feds would be interested in exchanging information if they knew Weldon was a murder suspect.”

  “They’d just take over our case,” she said, avoiding eye contact.

  Guilt flushed Gerard’s skin. Amber wasn’t concerned about the FBI taking over her case. She was protecting him. A vampire. At the expense of her own integrity.

  His heart twisted.

  “Weldon’s good,” he said. “He didn’t leave a trail—paper or electronic.” If he had, Sonia would have uncovered it.

  Sheridan pinned Amber with hurt eyes. “Even if you weren’t ready to share your suspicions with Captain Stratford, you should have shared them with me. I’m your partner. You should’ve kept me in the loop.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s just…” She swallowed hard and took a steady breath. “I don’t have facts. Just theories.”

  “Then let’s put some of those theories to the test. Run ’em by me.”

  Brushing past Gerard, he headed toward Amber’s living room. She cast Gerard an apologetic glance and rushed to catch up.

  “It’s just ideas Gerard and I have been bouncing around since he told me about Weldon.”

  Sheridan sat in front of her computer and looked at the monitor. A list of links from Amber’s search of “abandoned US hospitals” filled the screen. “You think he’s opened a lab in an abandoned hospital?”

  “It’s one theory,” Amber said as she sat in the chair Gerard had brought in from the kitchen. He stepped behind her and placed his hands on top of the chair.

  Sheridan grunted in response and opened one of the links. “You rule out this abandoned hospital in South Carolina?”

  “Yes,” Amber said with a sigh. “We think he’s still in North Carolina.”

  “How do you know?” Sheridan turned, meeting her gaze. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I—” She glanced helplessly up at Gerard.

  Emotion cramped his throat.

  Giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, he said, “Lifeblood’s IT specialist, Sonia Dalca, learned that Dr. Weldon got a homeless man in Raleigh to make contact with Timmons. It makes sense that he’s somewhere in that area.”

  Skeptical eyes met his. Sheridan grunted again. “Sonia Dalca’s your IT specialist? Funny how that was never mentioned before now.” He looked at Amber. “Maybe we need to pay Colonel Timmons a visit.”

  “He’s dead.” Gerard smiled at Sheridan’s shocked expression. “He committed suicide in his cell about a week ago.”

  “Well, Timmons was never a suspect anyway,” S
heridan said, turning back to the monitor. He hit the back button and chose another hospital from the list that appeared on the screen. “What about John Umstead Psychiatric Hospital in Butner? That’s close to Raleigh.”

  Amber leaned forward, reading the caption beneath the picture. “Most of the patients were moved to Central Regional Hospital in 2008, but it looks like they’re still using some of the buildings. Weldon would want a facility that’s completely abandoned.”

  Reid opened another link. “What about the Old Davis Hospital in Statesville?”

  Amber sat up straighter. Gerard felt her excitement as she leaned toward the monitor. “Scroll down. I need to see those pictures.”

  Sheridan clicked through the haunting images. A broken skylight illuminated a shadowy stairwell with rusted rails. Crumbling plaster flaked from the walls and water damage in the lab left mossy green streaks. Vines growing inside the room from a busted window made it appear as if nature was invading to reclaim the property. The abandoned centrifuge and scattered bits of broken lab equipment added to the horror movie effect.

  “The basement’s flooded and there’s too much damage.” Her voice seemed to fade. Her body swayed.

  Sheridan turned to face her. “What about right here in Asheville? There’s an abandoned VA hospital and several private sanatoriums that are no longer in use.”

  “Too close. I’d know if he were close.” Her eyes drifted shut. Her body jolted upright in the chair.

  Gerard leaned forward, placing his lips next to her ear. “You sense something. Don’t you?”

  She’d sent out mental feelers and had apparently gotten a psychic “hit” on the clone’s location.

  Sheridan sprang to his feet, glaring down at Amber as if she’d betrayed him. “What the hell’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Sit down and pick another hospital, Sheridan,” Gerard said. He touched Amber’s shoulder. The contact sent an electric tingle up his arm. Brief images flashed through his mind.

  Touching Amber while she was in such a trance-like state enabled him to see through his clone’s eyes and share the mental images with her. Maintaining the connection was difficult. Speaking took supreme concentration. “Look for abandoned sanatoriums in western North Carolina.”