“I think I’m beginning to understand why.” He didn’t grin this time. With his elbows resting on the counter behind him, he shook his head. “I just don’t know where it’s leading yet.”
Jess wanted to press him for more details, but there was something in his expression that told her he wouldn’t—or couldn’t—answer her questions. “There’s another question we need to ask,” she said instead. “The vampires have formed an organization to hunt me down. Why put a bounty on me?”
Sampson had taken Sephina out of the playpen when she started to fuss and sat on a stool with her happily in his arms. She was sucking her thumb and watching his face. “Another question is why would they care what you do in North America? Traditionally, vampires in Europe barely know the North American vampires exist.”
Jess grimaced. “But they want me out of the way badly enough to risk exposure by coming here in large groups. I can’t see why we’d be a threat to someone in Italy.”
“It’s all coming back to the mind-controlling properties of the paste. If this whole situation revolves around it, why are they after me? Unless they think they can get the paste through me.”
“But it’s been destroyed,” Britt said.
Jess ignored that comment. “Sampson, you’ve been researching the paste. What have you found out?”
“It appears to be a beeswax salve. It’s mixed with a combination of herbs and a genus of vanilla that I can’t find in any scientific databases. Its properties are unique as far as I can tell. I think the vanilla plant itself has mild psychotropic properties, but there’s no way to tell if the herbs and beeswax enhanced its efficacy. Not only that, but the paste probably lost a lot of its strength over the last couple hundred years. Imagine how potent it must have been when it was fresh.”
“Shit!” As a person who’d been under the influence of the paste, Jess couldn’t imagine that it had been merely a weak version of the original concoction.
“But why did the Mayan’s use it?” Britt asked.
Sampson grimaced. “While most of their historical record is gone, along with most of their civilization, we do know some things about their culture and their blood sacrifices. In fact, during my research I saw a picture of a clay pot with the same markings as the one found in the Mayan ruins. That makes me fairly certain the paste was used in a sacrificial blood ritual.”
Jess shuddered. Powerful and potent, none of the Mayans would have been able to fight the effects of the paste. In fact, she herself had once been ready to jump off a bridge under the influence. If Britt hadn’t found her she would have jumped.
“You believe they used the paste in their blood sacrifices? Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Jess didn’t like the sound of this.
“Just found that tidbit tonight, Jess. Hadn’t had a chance to tell you with everything else going on. He looked down at the baby. Plus, some of it’s just guesswork. I saw a grainy picture of a wall carving with a vase that looked similar. I could be wrong. Why else would the vampires want it so badly? Do you suppose they’ve figured out something else about the paste? Something that Vaslov didn’t know?”
Jess straightened on her stool. “Like what?”
“I don’t know,” Sampson said, “But let me tell you a little bit about what I’ve learned. It’s beginning to make some sense, but I need to do some more research. And … if they get their hands on the stuff, the vampires could easily find most of its properties through chemical analysis, but without the specific vanilla plant I have no idea if they can make it work.”
“If the ancient vanilla genus no longer exists, doesn’t that mean the paste can’t be reproduced?” Britt asked.
“Assuming the vanilla is an integral part of the chemical makeup of the paste and it doesn’t still grow somewhere in the jungle foliage in South America.”
“But wouldn’t the plant be on record if it still grows there?” Britt asked.
“Not necessarily. There are many species of plants that have yet to be identified by botanists. Maybe it’s fairly insignificant in its habitat and no one’s noticed it. Or maybe it’s just never been found.”
“Or maybe it’s gone,” Jess added.
“Hopefully, but we can’t count on that,” Sampson responded.
“But what does the paste do for vampires if fully potent, and why do they want it so badly?”
“That’s the twenty billion dollar question.” Sampson said.
Jess looked at her watch. “I don’t have much time before stasis. I’d really like to go to my room feeling like we’re onto something.”
“I already have the breakdown of elements found in the paste. The stronger version could be recreated if we found the vanilla plant.”
Jess sighed. “Not something I’m in a hurry to do.”
“Is anyone in the least disconcerted that it was used in a blood ritual and vampires want it?” Britt asked.
“The thought had crossed my mind,” Jess gritted out through tight jaws.
“What did they practice blood rituals for?” Britt asked.
“They believed holding blood sacrifices kept the Cosmos balanced,” Sampson said. “They believed rebirth and blood sacrifice went hand in hand. They also had beliefs that involved a dualistic theme between good and evil.
Jess’s limbs were beginning to feel heavy. Stasis was approaching, but she wanted to continue this line of thinking. “What if vampires were connected to this paste long before Vaslov found it?”
“Shit!” Britt said, “When you put it that way I get chills up my back.”
“I think we need to find out more.” Jess turned toward Sampson. “Have you exhausted your research, or do you think you can dig deeper?”
“If those European vamps are onto something, I should be able to find out. Since vampires are intrinsically bad, they don’t have allegiances past their own needs. I can buy the information on the very black, black market,” he said. “Besides we’ve got the paste. They don’t.”
“We do?” Britt started to rise from his chair, concern edging his voice.
“It’s well protected,” Jess said, waving him back into his chair.
“That changes everything though. No wonder they want you.” Britt heaved a weary sigh. “I’m guessing you’ve got the paste in the lab, then. Make sure you beef up security. Hire some bodyguards if necessary. Sampson, you’re the foremost authority on vampire physiology and forensics. If these vampires want the paste that bad, they’ll most likely want you and your knowledge along with it.”
“Good point,” Sampson said, not nearly worried enough, if his outward demeanor was any example. He looked as if he was already contemplating this new challenge of finding how the paste worked for vampires centuries ago. Jess wanted to shake him. She couldn’t lose him and his brilliant mind.
“I’m nearly dead on my feet,” Jess said standing and casting a quick look at the baby.
Sampson groaned at her comment, but she knew he expected her sick sense of humor. “I’ll have to leave you men to figure things out.” She took Sephina, who was already asleep. “She’ll be safe with me today. Tonight Britt and I will bring her back to the lab.”
Back at her apartment, Jess double checked to make very sure the security locks were fully engaged. After punching in her code, she watched the light switch from flashing red to solid green and heard several deadlocks slide into place in the solid steel door. She settled the baby under the covers. Then she quickly dressed for bed and crawled on top of the covers.
Her last thought before dead-time was extreme sadness for Terry and the fact that all hell was going to break loose tomorrow.
Today, given the latest information about the vamps gunning for Jess personally, Britt stayed in Jess’s apartment to protect her. Problem was, he was just as likely a bigger threat to her. Point of fact, he’d inadvertently burned her badly enough that her flesh had been virtually hanging off. His new abilities were untested and a complete mystery to him. For all he knew, they could go wrong
at any time.
He stared at her bedroom door. His heart ached for the touch of her skin, for the feel of her lips against his. Even though he obviously still had some gaps in his memory, he remembered everything about her now, every nuance, every sensory moment.
He settled onto the couch in the apartment. Couldn’t stop watching her door. Could see it from his position in the living room. He wanted to go into her room again. Wanted to be near her. The urge to spend the night in her proximity was almost uncontrollable.
Since she’d been livid that he’d been in her room yesterday while she was in stasis, he tried to focus on the newspaper that he’d found on the table just inside the door.
Not daring to cross the threshold of her door tonight, he finally pulled a throw across his chest and stuffed a decorative black and white striped pillow under his head.
His eyes closed reluctantly around two in the afternoon. Nightmares filled his sleep. He was in a Mayan Temple fighting against an evil that scared him shitless. Gargantuan men, with tanned skin, black tongues and sharp teeth, were closing in on him. He’d die if he didn’t get help. He spoke in a language that felt somehow familiar on his tongue. The cavernous room reminded him of an arena. He stood in the center, tall and strong and the bastion of his society.
The evil creatures watched from the periphery of the arena. A strong coppery scent filled his nostrils soon after someone screamed to his left.
He heard, then saw, the blood trickling into a wooden catchment basin. Heard loud plops as the thickening blood hit the pool of arterial red. His stomach clenched, objecting to the sights and smells assaulting his senses.
Several oversized monsters gathered around the bowl like it was a feeding trough. They made visceral grunts. Licking and slurping sounds permeated the stone cavern, the sounds reverberating off the walls and assaulting Britt’s ears.
His instinct was to run. To get away before they used him as their next source of blood. For now they didn’t seem to notice him.
He looked at his own hands; they were unfamiliar. Nearby, a finely polished marble plaque hung on the wall. In the reflection he was a monster, too. His stomach gurgled, and the urge to scream nearly caught him unawares. If he screamed, they’d know who he really was—John Brittain hiding in the body of the monster.
The blood was gone now, the containers empty, and the lifeless body near the bowl shriveled from blood loss.
The monsters turned toward him, their irises glowing red and their fangs extending beyond their vicious grins. Maybe they knew after all?
It wasn’t until the nearest monster got closer that he realized they were really vampires. Chanting began around the perimeter of the room, and that’s when he saw the ancient Mayans dressed in their ceremonial garb. There were hundreds of them, chanting and rattling strange instruments while all their eyes rested on him.
The Mayan leader, the most horrifying vampire Britt had ever seen, slathered something onto his own forehead and his eyes glazed, then turned even blacker. In a blur of motion, he slashed out a hand and smeared the same paste onto Britt’s forehead.
The room wobbled and ebbed in and out until he felt as if he’d lost the ability to move on his own. He looked down. His feet were solidly on the cavern floor, but he couldn’t get them to move an inch. Suddenly, he felt the connection between himself and the vampire. He experienced the orgasmic rush the vampire got while he moved in on his prey. He saw everything but couldn’t run.
He tried to move away from the horrors of the blood filled trough, but realized he was being herded into the center of the room for all to see. He was the ceremony’s next victim. He was the main blood offering.
The bloodthirsty eyes of the Mayan humans watching him were as horrifying as the abhorrent faces of the vampires in bloodlust.
There was no escape for him. It took all the energy he could summon, but he somehow managed to understand what was being said in an ancient language.
“Britt? You okay?” His hair felt damp against his forehead when she brushed it with her fingers. “In your sleep you spoke in a language that scared the crap out of me”
“I did?”
“Nightmare?” she asked, letting go of his shoulders.
He sucked in a calming breath. “A damned realistic one.” He swiped at the moisture on his face.
“I should say so. You were speaking the ancient language of the vampires.”
“I was?” he shivered.
“How do you know it?” she asked.
A shiver wracked him again, and he sucked in another long, deep breath. “I have no freaking idea.”
Jess sat beside him and pressed a hand against his chest, regarding him worriedly. “Dreaming about fighting James and his new friends?”
“Actually, I was dreaming about being sacrificed to the Mayan underworld. I was their second blood sacrifice of the event, and the leaders performing the sacrifices weren’t Mayans.”
She’d been about to grab a tissue to give him to wipe the sweat off his brow before he said that. She paused. “They weren’t? Who were they?”
“Oh, I think you already know. They were vampires.”
She watched fresh goosebumps break out on him. His dream managed to fill in some probable blanks.
“Given the way blood rituals were handled, it’s more than likely the whole Mayan Culture was ruled by vampires. The fact that they instituted blood sacrifice for almost every occasion certainly fits into the vampire lifestyle.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes.
“Oh my God.”
“Yeah. Only not so much God as the devil incarnate,” Britt said.
She stared at the floor for a long moment. “Your dream. Do you think it was your imagination? Or was it prophecy?”
“Or was it reality and I’ve just remembered a clip of the past? I don’t know. I’m having so many weird things happening to me these days that I don’t know fiction from reality any more.”
“Doesn’t it make sense though?” She shifted slightly so that they were no longer touching. He looked like he still wanted her skin against his.
“You’ve got abilities you’ve never had before. You’ve got powers. Maybe your dream is meant to give us information. To help us fight against the vampires who are searching for the paste. Somehow you’re more connected to this whole thing than we realized.”
“How can that be?” He rubbed his hand over his rough face again. “There’s something I didn’t tell you, Jess. Zeke said I’m reverting into something that has been dormant inside me. I don’t know what the hell that means, but after what happened when I fried those vamps, I don’t think it can be good. I’m just an ex-cop turned vampire hunter. That’s all I want to be. Nothing else.”
“Tell that to the vampires you disintegrated with a thought.”
He didn’t like being reminded about whatever the hell it was he’d done. That meant he could just as easily destroy the woman he loved. How could he live with that?
She stood when he sat up, moved away from the couch. Probably afraid he might try to make love to her again. She wouldn’t be far off. “Where’s the baby?”
“Still sleeping. Even vampire babies need more sleep than adults.” She looked at her watch. “We’ll have to wait for at least another hour. It’s probably not a good move to carry a dead baby around the city. Someone might notice.”
“Good thinking.”
“Once we get Sephina safely into the building, we need to safeguard Sampson and the paste too. And we need to come up with the reason the paste is so valuable to vampires.
“It was just a dream.”
“Was it?”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the couch. She dropped neatly against the curve of his body. His fingers slowly worked their way up her back to the nape of her neck. He needed to see if she’d react the way he hoped she would. Damnit, he certainly reacted. Every time he touched her, his urges flamed into a forest fire.
The rigid straightness of her back reminded him that
she still didn’t trust him completely. But she’d allowed him to pull her close and that was a good start. He’d prove she could trust him if it was the last thing he did.
“Kiss me,” he said.
One eyebrow rose and her lips turned up in a wry smile. “Aren’t we bossy today.”
“Got a problem with that, Captain?” He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her mouth. Wanted her so badly he could barely breathe.
She closed her eyes for a moment, obviously considering his demand. At this point he could probably just take the kiss. But he wanted her to allow it. To show him she still wanted it too.
When she opened her eyes, he knew she’d made her decision. Whenever she wanted him, her gaze swallowed him whole. He sighed. Her expression wasn’t in his favor this time. Disappointment edged at him. “I’d better get cleaned up.”
This time she sighed. “Yesterday was amazing, but it’s difficult trying to recreate our relationship so soon after what we’ve been through.”
“For you, maybe,” he said. “Not for me. I’ve experienced very little loss of time. Even the time I spent in that room recuperating has faded away until it seems as if it barely existed. For all intents and purposes, yesterday you and I were partners working for the same cause,” he said. “And in case you’ve forgotten, we were partners in other ways, too.”
She twisted to face him and leaned one arm across his hip. Two fingers rasped across the edge of his jaw. “Don’t shave, I like the way you look with one night’s shadow. It reminds me of that first night we met on the sidewalk.”
His heart hitched. Oh God, that memory was indelibly etched into his brain. She’d propositioned him, or so he’d thought at the time, dressed head to toe in skintight leather that accentuated her accentuatables. He grinned. She wore leather on the job all the time, but that outfit had been retired from regular use. She only wore it when they were on jobs together. Just the two of them. Yeah, she liked to torment him.
He took her hand in his, pressed it against his heart. “Do you feel that?”
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