Grave Expectations (Jess Vandermire, Vampire Hunter Book 4)

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Grave Expectations (Jess Vandermire, Vampire Hunter Book 4) Page 18

by Lina Gardiner


  Regent nodded. “Time is of the essence.”

  “I have to be somewhere else tonight,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and moving to the monitor on the wall. She turned it on and before her, she saw the vampire pacing the room, slurping down one bag of blood after another. “Have you thought about not feeding him so much? You’re making him stronger by keeping him fed.”

  “We tried cutting back on the food, but it enraged him. The door isn’t strong enough to hold him, if he gets angry enough. He’ll escape and then we’ll have real trouble on our hands. For now, he’s willing to stay inside as long as the food keeps coming,” Vasilli said.

  “Regent, I don’t want to lose you,” she said.

  “My darling sister, I don’t want to put you in harm’s way either. But in this case, we have no choice. We have to try.”

  “Okay, but if we do it, we do it now. I have to meet Britt later and that can’t wait, either.”

  Regent looked curious. Jess knew he was dying to know what was going on, but he also knew she wouldn’t tell him in front of Vasilli.

  “Let’s go downstairs,” Vasilli said, and opened the door next to the fireplace that led to the basement. Jess followed him and Regent came behind her.

  Eight Vatican guards dressed in black clothing waited in the hall outside the room. They were heavily armed with weapons she’d never seen before. The bullets inside the massive guns must be silver and they’d be heavy-duty rounds, if the rifles were any indication.

  Vasilli placed his hands on the new sliding bar that locked the door from the outside. Glancing at Regent’s younger self, she wondered what other technologies they were keeping from the planet.

  “I’ll go in first,” she told Vasilli. “You are completely human, I take it?”

  Vasilli’s gaze narrowed quickly on her. “Of course I am.”

  She grinned at him, showing him her lengthened fangs and her blacker than black pupils. “I’ll take the lead then. Get behind me. And Regent—don’t come near the vampire until I give the word.”

  When the door opened, stale air flashed over her. Even as a vampire, she found the scent of decayed blood overpowering … and disgusting. She heard Regent retch, but he managed to get himself under control.

  The vampire stood head and shoulders over her and must weigh close to four hundred pounds. He was massive. He rounded on her, his fangs bared, and his presumably once black eyes had turned bright red. He looked at her hands … obviously expecting them to be filled with blood packs. She held them out in front of her. Empty.

  He growled.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “You can’t ask that!” Vasilli shouted behind her.

  “What can I call you, then?” she said. “Give me a nickname.” She had to try something to get into this monster’s mind. To pull him away from the blood lust that controlled and confused his thinking abilities.

  The vampire picked up another bag of blood, sucked it down, then threw it in the corner.

  Jess wrinkled her nose. “Even you must find the decaying odor offensive. Why don’t you let someone come in and clean it up while we talk?”

  He swallowed and made a deep growling noise low in his diaphragm.

  “What may I call you?” she said again. “My name is Jess. I’m a vampire, too. I understand some of what you’re going through. As a matter of fact, this used to be my room.” She moved her hand to indicate his digs. What had once been a fairly nicely decorated bedroom had become nothing but a cot with shredded mattresses and piles of decaying plastic blood bags.

  “Your name. I know it’s in there. Can you speak? Can you pull yourself out enough to respond?”

  The monster turned his twisted, horrifying face toward her. His eyes made contact with hers. Had she made it through the thick fog that was his sickness?

  “Master.”

  “You want me to call you Master? I’m not sure I can do that; you see, I don’t have a creator in the vampire realm. I’m not about to—”

  Vasilli stood close behind her. “He doesn’t mean it that way. It’s a nickname he’s had for a long time. He doesn’t expect you to bow down to him.”

  Jess nodded her understanding. Good. She’d gotten through. Master was breathing heavily, though. And pacing back and forth. He needed to be calmed. And from what she understood, nothing anybody had done so far had helped him.

  “You and I are alike, Master,” she said keeping words working through his brain. Keeping him distracted. “I know what you are going through. What the blood fugue does to a person. But you can control it, Master. You can, if you try really hard.”

  The vampire’s eyebrows arched and his mouth contorted, as if she’d driven him to further madness. But he didn’t say a word. His gaze went to the corner … to the decaying refuse.

  “Can I get the soldiers to clean that up?” she asked.

  He nodded, but then closed his eyes and clenched his fists tightly to his sides.

  “Vasilli. Do it. And do it quickly. He’s obviously trying very hard to maintain control.” She turned back to the vampire. “Master, this is my brother, Regent. He is a priest and he has the ability to help people like you and me. He needs to know you a little more, though. He needs to touch your forehead. Anoint you with a little holy oil and say a prayer. Do you think you can maintain control long enough for him to do it?”

  Master shook his head back and forth. “No.”

  “He’s speaking,” Vasilli breathed, getting the soldiers to sweep the bags out of the room as fast as possible. “He hasn’t been able to do that for quite some time.”

  Jess ignored Vasilli. She needed to stay inside Master’s brain. Keep him from dropping back into the fugue state. “I will help you,” she said. “If you let me.”

  Regent moved closer to Jess. He was ready, ointment jar in hand. He was trusting Jess with his life. God, she hated this.

  Vasilli barked at the soldiers to shut the door as soon as they’d cleaned out the refuse. He seemed amazed by the progress she was making. “How can you get through to him? You’re a vampire. Surely you have no control over him.”

  “Only the ability to speak to him as one who understands what his mind is going through, as well as what his body’s autonomic responses are. I know how to guide him in trying to quell the urges deep inside him. Other than that, I am exactly like he is,” she said, looking straight into Master’s eyes. Hoping he understood what she was saying. She wouldn’t harm him. She wanted to help him.

  “If you allow me, I’ll hold your hands behind your back while Father Vandermire anoints you. The ointment will burn a little, but you’re a very strong man. You can handle it. And you can continue to listen to my voice while he does it. Remember that I am like you and I know what you’re feeling.”

  Master didn’t give her the okay, but he did move his massive clawed hands to his back. Jess quickly moved in and took his wrists in her hands. She tried to squeeze them in reassurance but her hands could barely wrap around them.

  Regent stepped up on a chair and swallowed hard. His face was pale and his pupils had nearly disappeared. His fingers were shaking, but he reached out and placed the ointment on Master’s forehead.

  The vampire roared in pain, and it took everything inside Jess to keep the vampire’s hands from breaking free.

  Regent continued to pray while he climbed off the chair and backed away.

  “Leave the room!” Jess shouted.

  Regent knew that when Jess said something, it was in his best self-interest to listen.

  She couldn’t talk the vampire down much longer. Even she could see he was losing grasp of their conversation, and the monster was taking control again. “Both of you leave, I’ll be right behind you.”

  They ran out of the room. Jess barely made it out behind the two men before Master lost it and threw himself against the door, screaming and keening in hunger.

  “Start feeding him again,” she said. “Otherwise, he�
�s going to break down the door.”

  Regent sat on a chair outside the chamber with candles burning and a tiny altar prepared. He began praying out loud and didn’t break his concentration for a second. Not even when Jess walked past him. She’d leave and he’d pray all night long. It wouldn’t do a damned bit of good.

  Before her foot hit the first step up, she heard the noise stop inside her old bunker. They heard breathing and pacing but the roaring had eased, at least.

  “Your prayers are working,” Vasilli said in awe.

  Jess made a disgusted noise. Obviously, the priest was desperate to save this person. Whoever lurked inside that hideous vampire, he had people who were very committed to bringing him back.

  Should she let Vasilli off the hook? Probably. “I’m afraid he’s too far gone,” she said. “Why are you trying to keep him alive like this? If I were inside that room, I’d want to die. He can barely break to the surface to listen for a few minutes. You can’t save him. Put him out of his misery.”

  Vasilli said something angry under his breath. She clearly heard every word. The tone was obvious—she just didn’t understand Italian.

  She glanced at Regent one more time. He was trying so hard. It would wear him down.

  But she knew the truth. There was no way he could save that darkest of dark souls inside her bunker.

  BRITT PACED THE sidewalk waiting for Jess. Where was she? He glanced at his watch for the twentieth time before sighing and leaning his shoulder against a streetlight.

  He’d bet Jess missed the team as much as he did. What was happening with his people tonight? Had they tracked down any vampires?

  He’d check in tomorrow night.

  Yeah, he was on vacation, but he still wanted to know his people were safe. A scent on the air ratcheted up his libido. Jess was nearby. He loved the light vanilla scent she wore, a scent that vampires were unable to detect for some strange reason.

  He turned his head to see her striding toward him in all of her leather-enhancing glory. God, she was beautiful.

  Her long dark hair flowed and her focused stride created the type of movement only meant for a woman with a body like hers—breasts firm and hips strong. A trim waist, red lips, high cheekbones, and raw tension behind those amazing eyes—she took his breath away.

  “Jess,” he said. “How’d it go?”

  She let out a ragged breath. “I’ll tell you later. First, we need to get this over with.”

  It was like there was extra kinetic energy in the air tonight. He’d been amped up for an hour.

  They went straight to the elevator, bypassing the greeters in the rotunda.

  Fisk greeted them the moment the elevator doors opened. Always on the side of the dramatic and borrowing heavily from the church, he was dressed in black robes tonight, embroidered with red and gold floss.

  The way Jess looked at him right now made Britt edgy for all the wrong reasons. Desire lurked in the hidden depths of her irises, and she knew it. He bit his lip and sucked in a steadying breath. Hell, she knew full well she’d affected him. She’d be able to tell by his heart rate, if nothing else.

  He forced his mind back to their current predicament. Besides, he didn’t want Fisk to realize Jess was his Achilles heel. Desperate to distract himself, he suddenly remembered how Jess had told him that Sampson was researching the vampire scrolls he’d found in Romania a few years ago, the runes and the incantations that could severely harm a vampire. Had Fisk found something? A rune? A text? Somehow, the fabric he wore hummed with energy.

  “What’s she doing here?” Fisk growled. “I told you, she can’t be here.”

  “On the contrary,” Britt said. “She’s your newest assistant.”

  “A famous vampire hunter? That won’t work. My clients will find out—”

  “I’m sure you have robes she can wear to hide her face,” Britt said. “It’s both of us, or neither of us.” Britt turned toward the elevator door.

  Fisk’s blond spiked hair looked like the bristles of a grooming brush tonight. His skin appeared sallow and his eyes seemed faded. He looked defeated … and he hadn’t even started yet. No wonder he wanted help from Britt. Healing vampires every night must be using up his power.

  “No effing way did I agree to this!”

  “Fine,” Britt said. “We won’t let the door hit us on the way out …” He jabbed his finger on the elevator button and the door opened instantly.

  Jess took his cue and stepped inside.

  “Okay, wait. Let’s not be in such a hurry. Maybe we can come up with an alternate plan?” Fisk said, sweat gleaming on his face.

  “No. Either Jess comes with me or you do this alone. That’s all there is. Take it or leave it.”

  Fisk cursed under his breath and stared hard at the floor.

  Britt rammed his hand onto the button and the elevator doors started to close.

  The doors suddenly opened.

  “Come back inside. We’re not done talking,” Fisk grumbled.

  “We are, as far as I’m concerned,” Britt said. “I don’t work alone. I’m a team player and Jess Vandermire is my partner.” His fingers reached out and touched hers for a second.

  Suddenly, Fisk turned red and sweat glistened anew on his forehead. He moved to his chair and dropped into it. “You win. Your vampire can attend. But if she interferes or lets the olde ones know who she is, I swear to God, I’ll eliminate her myself …”

  JESS’S HACKLES ROSE, initiating instantaneous transformation. She edged closer to his desk and, planting her hands on the top, she leaned toward him. It didn’t pay to make a vampire angry, especially when his neck loomed deliciously close with his pulse thrumming at his carotid artery like a flashing neon sign.

  “She doesn’t like being treated like she’s not in the room,” she said, in the most devastating voice she’d managed over the years. A harmonically enhanced voice that reverberated in people’s bones. Both men shivered.

  Britt winked at her when she glanced back at him.

  “I do apologize, Captain. I won’t misjudge you again,” Fisk said. “May I ask that you merely attend as a bystander? You can pretend to be my assistant and wait for me by the door. My man Brewster often does this, so it won’t be out of sync with my normal routines.”

  “Fair enough,” Jess said.

  A clock struck three on the wall.

  “It’s time,” Fisk said, and buzzed Brewster into the room. He quickly filled his assistant in and asked him to fetch robes for Jess immediately.

  She bit back a grin. Brewster, who didn’t live up to his name, bounced around like an angry giant fairy. He obviously didn’t like sharing his position, especially with a vampire. As if Jess cared.

  He might have been ticked, but he did what he was told. Two minutes later, he returned with a cloak hanging off his meaty arm. Jess put it on and pulled the hood up to partially cover her face. When Fisk was satisfied she was securely enough hidden, they crossed the hall.

  One lone, ancient vampire waited at a boardroom table. His skin looked like aged seal hide and was nearly the same color. Would she look like that eventually?

  As promised, she took her stance near the door. She waited and watched. She had to hope and pray they’d learn something valuable about handling a big vampire tonight because someone, somehow, needed to be able to keep the massive vampire at the rectory under control.

  Chapter Seventeen

  THE PALMS OF Britt’s hands itched, and he breathed a little heavier than normal. This session was monumentally important to him because he might learn how to help the people who meant the most to him.

  The vampire stood. Tall, stringy, and dangerous-looking. His neatly cropped black hair and filed fingernails indicated he was of important vampire lineage. He wasn’t just some lost soul from the street.

  “Welcome,” Fisk said, striding into the room quickly and extending his hand in greeting.

  The vampire ignored him.

  “These are my assist
ants,” Fisk continued as if the rebuff hadn’t happened. “John and Veronica will be aiding me tonight.”

  “You didn’t say anything about other people being involved.” The vampire’s voice resonated around the room, entering their bones in a manner similar to the one Jess had used earlier.

  “I’m sorry about the misunderstanding,” Fisk said in a humble way that struck Britt as blatantly fake. “If you’d like to decline this appointment, it is well within your rights, Mr. Bellarizio.”

  The big vampire narrowed his gaze on Fisk and showed his slightly yellowed teeth. Britt would have gasped at the sight, if he hadn’t been so busy holding his breath so he wouldn’t react. The fangs were aged like the tusks of an ancient walrus. He could almost see rings on them. Was that part of his abilities as a Grigoroi?

  Fisk motioned for Britt to stand next to him. “Shall we begin?” he said to the ancient one. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “Begin,” the vampire grated. “And make sure nothing goes wrong.”

  “Of course, sir. We will do everything within our power to effect change within you. You’ve already seen that it is possible. Of course, I can’t guarantee complete results, but with two of us, the odds are much better.”

  “Two of you? You both have this ability?” Bellarizio asked.

  Fisk nodded. “My friend is a novice. He’s not as powerful as I am, but he can help amplify my abilities.”

  Britt played the subordinate. Hell, maybe Fisk was right about him anyway. He crossed his arms over his chest, but when he felt his solar plexus vibrating, he dropped them again. Apparently, his unconscious abilities were revving up and getting ready to go to work. Funny—how could he have this ability and not have a clue how to control it?

  Fisk inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, then stood about two feet from Bellarizio. Britt stepped up beside him. It felt like a power surge was building, not only inside him, but connecting the two of them in a strange way.

  Fisk’s forehead was still beaded with sweat, and his face looked even paler. Was he up to this tonight?

 

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