Always the Vampire

by Nancy Haddock

  Go with the light? Brilliant idea. Too bad our merry little band of Void hunters had only a bare glimmer in the dark to go on.

  The door clicked softly, but the snick of Saber’s Glock as he put the safety on seemed to echo. So did the sigh he exhaled.

  I turned to find him carefully placing his weapon on the coffee table.

  “Cesca, I’m sorry. I should have listened more closely. I should have heard you come in.”

  Without a word, I walked into his arms. The first kiss was a light brush of our lips. The second kiss deepened, a playful dueling of lips and teeth and tongues until Saber hauled me closer. I felt his desperation then and held him tight, reassuring him through touch.

  I’m here. I’m fine. I love you.

  Saber broke the kiss and buried his face in my hair, his breathing as labored as if he’d run a marathon.

  “God, when I saw that Tower had you. He could have ripped your head off in a second, and I—”

  “Deke, stop. It’s over. I admit I had a fright, but my defenses kicked in. I could’ve pulled Tower’s aura harder if I’d had to.”

  He released me enough to give me a level stare. “You don’t hold back when you’re in danger. Ever. Especially not now when we’re going up against Starrack and the Void. Understood?”

  “Got it.”

  “Good. Now lie on the sofa while I get the first aid kit.”

  “Let me see your neck again,” Saber said half an hour later as he leaned over me.

  From my reclining position, propped up by cushy throw pillows on the sofa, I removed the ice gel pack he’d insisted I use and let him inspect the damage. Or lack thereof. My tussle with Tower had left bruises, but they had bloomed and faded ten minutes into the coldpack treatment. Still, it was sweet of Saber to coddle me. It gave him something to do besides continuing to rail at himself for failing to hear me come home.

  The living room lamps blazed bright, but he squinted at my neck for any lingering discoloration.

  “Saber, you’re acting like a vampire searching for the choicest place to bite me. It’s creepy.”

  He quirked a grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I think you need another bottle of Starbloods. Just to be sure you’re healing internally.”

  “Gag, no. One a day is enough. What I need,” I said as I levered upright, “is to know what Ray said.”

  Saber sat beside me and gathered me in his arms.

  “You don’t want to know how he looked?”

  I tilted my head to see his expression. “How bad?”

  “His skin is two shades darker and lined like a road map. The younger vampires are in worse shape.”

  Bile rose at the image. God, what would I do if Saber’s gorgeous Latino skin began to blacken and shrivel? I resolutely push the thought away.

  “You think he and the others will survive?”

  Saber scooted deeper into the cushions and dropped his head against the sofa back. “I don’t know, Cesca. Even if they do, the effects of the life force drain may not be reversible.”

  I snuggled closer, my head on his chest. “Are he and his crew going underground figuratively or literally?”

  “Literally. Ray’s heard on the undead grapevine that the illness slows in vampires who live in basements, so he’s going one better. He’s moving the crew deep into caverns.”

  “In Florida?”

  “West of Tallahassee.”

  “Huh. Hope he has mega cases of bottled blood to take.”

  “He has enough, but he’s also taking the blood bunnies.”

  I pushed upright and stared at Saber’s somber expression. Blood bunnies were groupies and donators, and the three I knew of were romantically involved with some of Ray’s vampires. But surely he wasn’t forcing them to go.

  “He’s not,” Saber said.

  “Not what?”

  “Not forcing the blood bunnies.”

  “You’re reading my mind?”

  “Your face. They volunteered to go, and I approved the plan.”

  “Simple as that? Don’t those women have jobs and families?”

  “Families not so much, from what I know. I assume they’ve taken leave or vacation time from jobs.” He shrugged. “They may be young, but they’re legal adults, Cesca.”

  “True.” The blood bunny I’d had a fondness for, the lisping Cici, had cut her ties with the Daytona Beach vampires even before Ray took over. She’d moved to St. Augustine, was attending a local college, and worked at Walmart.

  “Look at the upside. The bunnies can make grocery and Starbloods runs, thus protecting the public.”

  “The bunnies can also notify the VPA of any deaths.”

  “True,” he said. “And best of all, their vampire lovers won’t go through the illness alone.”

  Neither will you, I silently vowed, and cupped his cheek in my palm. “Saber, you’re such a romantic.”

  He waggled his dark brows and pulled me close again. “Any fantasies I can fulfill while the night is still young? A candlelit bath, perhaps?”

  I levered away and gave him my best intense stare. “Are you sure you don’t read my mind?”

  “Only as much as you read mine.”

  With that and an enigmatic grin, he rose and strolled into the bedroom. The faucets roared with water a moment later, so I locked the door, reset the alarm, and joined Saber. With candlelight flickering on the glass tiled walls of my art deco bathroom, the swirl of warm, scented water in the jetted tub, and my man both relaxing me into a rag and stimulating me to passion, I never did puzzle out if he was reading my mind or not.

  I found Saber’s note on the turquoise 1950s retro kitchen table the next afternoon. He wrote that he’d gone to Cosmil’s and would see me after my ghost tour for some more quality time before I took off for the bachelorette weekend in Fernandina Beach. He’d also programmed Triton’s and Cosmil’s cell numbers into my phone. What a guy.

  If you’re wondering why a design student has an art deco bathroom, a retro kitchen, a surfer-chic bedroom, and a British-colonial living room, it’s because I’d gone period mad when I decorated. However, since most of the period flavor was in the accessories, the décor could be easily changed if and when I ever moved out of the cottage and into a place truly my own.

  I didn’t think about Saber and I moving in together. At least I hadn’t until this past week when he’d camped out with me. After coming home to an empty house during those weeks he was on the road, I admitted that having him to myself every night was tempting.

  Did I have wedding fever?

  I pondered that as I dressed in black shorts and a lime green T-shirt, and with my hair in a ponytail, my feet in black sandals, I headed out to meet Maggie at Daphne Dupree’s store, Beach Bake. The shop was located on the island near Dondanville Road, so I avoided the downtown route in favor of taking US 1 to the 312 bridge, then heading south on A1A. The same direction we’d taken to Cosmil’s place on Tuesday.

  Maggie wore business casual and gave me a broad grin as I exited my SSR. “Things really are back to normal with you and Saber, huh?”

  “How can you tell?”

  “You’re glowing.”

  “Only pregnant women and people exposed to way too much radiation glow, Maggie.”

  “And women getting great sex.”

  “Okay, if women glow, what do men do?”

  “If they know what’s good for them, they keep doing their women right.”

  I shook my head. “Good thing you’re getting married.”

  “Isn’t it?” she countered brightly. “Plus it’s the perfect excuse to gorge myself with chocolate.”

  Once inside, we didn’t limit ourselves to chocolate. Lemon, coconut, strawberry, and banana cakes made an appearance at the tasting table. I stuck to savoring nibbles. Maggie groaned in ecstasy over whole slices. Small slices, true, but I don’t know where she put all that cake.

  Daphne was clearly delighted that every sample met with our approval, and beamed over our
final order that included a second chocolate groom’s cake and a banana coconut sheet cake with coconut icing. Daphne talked Maggie out of a lemon cake but promised threedozen lemon tarts on the house and agreed to add another layer to the traditional wedding cake to be decorated in a Victorian motif.

  I faithfully recorded the order in my maid of honor binder, while Maggie insisted on paying Daphne in full. I wasn’t surprised since she’d done the same with the caterer on Wednesday. The florist and rental company had three-quarter payments down, with the balance to be paid before the ceremony.

  Maggie was nothing if not efficient.

  We chatted outside for a few minutes after the tasting. I started to tell her that I’d seen Triton and made peace with my memories. Maggie knew all about my early years and even knew Triton was a shifter. But Maggie had an appointment with the photographer, so I let it go.

  I’d turned my cell off during the taste test but had no messages from Saber when I checked at a stoplight. I had the early ghost-tour shift tonight, a special one with a book club from Palm Coast. I wore my emerald empire-waist gown, one fashioned to evoke the English Regency period, and decided to take the group on a slightly longer tour.

  We visited Elizabeth at the City Gates, the characters at the Huguenot and Tolomato cemeteries, dropped by Fay’s House, then headed to the bay front and Casa de la Paz.

  “There are several versions of this story,” I told my tourists when we stood across the avenue from the house, “but here is the one I like best. In the early 1900s, a young woman I’ll call Philla came to St. Augustine to recuperate from an illness. Here she met a young man who had also come to town for his health. Let’s say he’s James. Well, Philla and James resided here, in the same boardinghouse, where they eventually fell in love and planned to marry.

  “The day before they were to leave, James insisted on going fishing against Philla’s wishes. A storm blew up and James drowned. Heartsick, Philla’s health worsened until she finally died in the boardinghouse, alone and in mourning for James. Now she wanders the halls or waits on the staircase, valise in hand, asking if it’s time to leave.”

  “Is she the bride spirit at the Tolomato cemetery?” a lady asked.

  “No, that’s a different ghost. Philla isn’t seen outside Casa de la Paz as far as I know.”

  “Then who’s that standing on the porch?” another woman asked.

  We all turned to stare, and sure enough, a woman in a period traveling outfit, complete with a hat and valise, stood on the wide porch. She seemed to gaze toward the Matanzas Bay inlet, then looked directly at my group before she turned toward the house and vanished.

  My group and I exchanged wide glances, and I admit to having chills and a tear in my eye. I love it when our ghosts surprise me and give my tourists an experience to remember.

  I bid my group farewell at the waterwheel, stowed my lantern, and headed to the office to check out and remind Candice I would be out of town over the weekend. I also mentioned needing time off the next few weeks.

  “The wedding?” she asked.

  I merely smiled.

  She nodded sagely. “That maid of honor gig is a killer.”

  I laughed and waved and stepped out of the office onto St. George Street not looking where I was going. I ran full force into Saber.

  “Thank God I found you,” he said in a rush, his hands on my shoulders to steady us both. “We need to get to Cosmil’s.”

  My gut tensed. “Has he been hurt again?”

  “Not yet. The Council of Ancients headquarters has been attacked, and Cosmil is frantic that we’re next on the hit list.”

  SEVEN

  “Fill me in on the attack,” I said once we were speeding south on US 1 toward 206 and the turn off to Cosmil’s place.

  Not that my first reaction had been so sedate. No, my mouth had gone dry, I’d gripped Saber’s hands, and I’d scanned the sidewalk for magical assassins. Hell, I’d even looked skyward as if expecting an air strike by Oz’s flying monkeys. I’d been that spooked by Saber’s blunt announcement. At this rate, I’d be the only vampire on the planet with chronic high blood pressure.

  Calmer now, I listened as Saber answered me without taking his eyes off the road.

  “You know the Council is in an uproar over Legrand’s murder and the body disappearing. Well, the members closed the local portals, but what they didn’t do—or didn’t do well enough—was put protection around the compound.”

  “The compound is a physical place?”

  “Yeah, in Chambery in the French Alps. The members stay there while they hold meetings, and an administrative and support staff of both supernaturals and mortals live there permanently. According to Cosmil, the compound was hit by the magical equivalent of a terrorist bomb.”

  “Oh, God.” My heart clenched, and dread churned in my stomach. “Was anyone hurt? Lia?”

  “Lia’s all right, but three humans are dead, and a fairy and werewolf are in critical condition.”

  “Those poor souls. This is the work of Starrack and the Void, I take it.”

  “Cosmil thinks so. Lia is staying over the weekend to help secure the place and unite the Council as much as she can. She’ll fly Air France to New York City on Monday and take a charter to the St. Augustine airport.”

  The new moon was Monday. Or was it Sunday? Whenever, Triton shifted at the dark of the moon and usually needed a day to recuperate afterward. Or had in the old days.

  “Triton will be shifting about then, so you and I will pick up Lia.”

  I startled. “Reading my expression again?”

  In the glare of a streetlight, I caught Saber’s grin. “No, Triton is the one who called about the attack. He mentioned shifting.”

  “Ah. So what does Cosmil expect to accomplish in this mini council meeting with us?”

  “Circling the wagons? Casting protection spells? Triton didn’t say, but whatever it is, it’s fine by me. I’m not taking any chances, especially with you leaving town.”

  The dark of the moon might be only a few days away, but the area all around Cosmil’s shack was washed in an unearthly, dusky glow.

  Which made it easy to see Triton where he stood sentry on Cosmil’s shabby porch. He was barefoot, had his arms folded, and wore cutoffs, a dark T-shirt, and a scowl. A lock of hair feathered over his forehead in the light night breeze, but it didn’t make him look less ticked.

  I lifted the hem of my gown to avoid getting grass stains and opened my mouth to greet Triton. He riled me before I was halfway across the yard.

  “You are not leaving for the weekend.”

  “Hide and watch me, bub,” I tossed back.

  “It’s too dangerous.”

  “I’m a big, bad vampire, Triton. I’ll live.”

  “Maybe, but what about Maggie and the other women?”

  “I’m already the designated driver. I’ll take care of them.”

  “You’re a pig-headed pain in the ass.”

  “Only when you’re wrong.”

  “Children!” Cosmil’s voice lashed from the far side of his shack.

  I whirled to see the wizard wearing a royal blue robe over another outfit of white pants and a tunic. He must buy his duds in bulk.

  “Ah, silence,” he said as he strode to meet me. “Now I may concentrate. Francesca, has Saber told you why you are here?”

  “He said there was an attack on the COA and you’re concerned we’re the next target.”

  “Protection spells are in order, yes, but you must also learn to use the amulet. In however rudimentary a manner.”

  I stiffened, but not in revulsion or fear, not of the amulet itself anyway. I remembered the warm pulse of the amulet, how simply right it had felt in my hand. Problem was, I knew what the amulet could do, so it was like a loaded gun. One I didn’t want to aim, never mind fire.

  “The amulet is a defensive tool as well as an offensive one, Francesca. It can hurt, but it can also heal. I would not put it in your hands if I thought yo
u were not ready.”

  I wasn’t surprised he’d read my thoughts. Annoyed, yes, but then it seemed every man in my life read me.

  And, okay, I might’ve huffed a bit as I asked, “What if I learn just enough to be dangerous?”

  “That shall not happen. The amulet responds to intent, you see.” He eyed me. “Or perhaps you do not, but you will. Now, come, all of you. Francesca and Saber, remove your shoes. We have a ceremony to conduct and spells to spin.”

  “You need a ceremony to cast spells?”

  “The ceremony is to bind our energies more tightly to one another.”

  I thought I was already pretty darned bonded, except maybe to Cosmil, but I didn’t object. Saber took my hand as we trailed after Cosmil. Triton walked at my other side, and Pandora emerged from the tree line to our right. When we reached the center of the perfect circle of trees, Cosmil stopped beside a carved wooden box placed in the short, springy grass.

  “Triton, you stand in the east,” Cosmil directed. “Pandora, the south. Francesca, Saber, take the west and north.”

  We moved into the cardinal positions, me in the west, automatically adjusting our places to be equally distant from Cosmil in the center. Seven feet, I heard in my head and in my own voice. As if I’d been here, done this—or something like this—before.

  Cosmil nodded his approval and bent over the box. He passed both hands over the lid—one clockwise, one counter—and mumbled a few words under his breath. A tingle of magick ran along my arms, and I jumped a little when I heard the lock on the box click. Then he opened the lid and lifted a rounded object wrapped in silver-shimmer fabric. Energy prickled across the back of my neck and trickled down my spine as he mumbled again and peeled away the cloth to reveal an honest-to-wizard crystal ball.

  Or was it crystal? I sharpened my vampire vision and looked closer. Reflections danced over the sphere’s surface, like a glass gazing ball in a garden. Whatever the material, my breath caught when Cosmil let the fabric flutter into the open box, cupped the sphere in both hands, and raised it over his head.