“Princess,” Ken said, his tone even, his expression serious. He seemed to choose his words carefully. “We understand you checked up on us, and we understand why.”
I fingered my silver necklace and tried not to gulp.
“Candy talked with you?”
David nodded. “Scuttlebutt has it you know what made our former master ill and that you’re on a mission to stop it from killing the rest of us.”
I searched their faces. “Are either of you sick?”
“We’re healthy. We just aim to thank you.”
I shook my head. “Guys, I’m only one of a number of people trying to stop the infection.”
“Still, ma’am, we appreciate it. You need anything, you call.”
I had to smile. “Call in the Marines?”
“Ooh-rah,” David said.
Ken nodded and handed me a business card. “Semper Fi, ma’am.”
Ken and David’s cell numbers were neatly printed on the back.
Thanks to a special late checkout time, I got to sleep until three Sunday afternoon. Maggie wasn’t in a tearing hurry to get home, so with the amulet tucked safely in the back pocket of my jean shorts, we hit a dozen garage sales en route and rolled into her driveway shortly after six.
When I offered to help her tackle any wedding RSVPs that had come in, she waved me away. Maybe because Neil had stepped onto the wide wrap-around porch. Talk about a pheromone spike.
“We’ve heard from most people,” she said. “Let’s put it off a day or two.”
I laughed. “Fine. Have fun with your hunk of burnin’ love.”
“You, too,” she said with a wink.
But Saber wasn’t in the cottage.
I propped my little pink bag against the kitchen door frame, but my cell rang before I could pluck the note I spied off the fridge.
“Hey, Princesca,” Saber murmured. “I missed you.”
“So why aren’t you here to show me how much?” I murmured back as I sank into a retro kitchen chair. Ouch. The amulet bit into my butt as it hadn’t in the plush seats of Neil’s car, and I dug it out of my pocket.
“Because Cosmil asked if Lia could stay at my place. She’ll be landing about four tomorrow afternoon.”
“Ah, and you’re cleaning the house.” Which shouldn’t take long, I mused as I spun the amulet on the kitchen table. He kept a neater house than I did—and he hadn’t been living at his place for over a week. “I’m surprised Cosmil isn’t going for safety in numbers. He could always conjure up a bedroom and bath addition to the shanty.”
“I’d love to see that, but Cosmil seems to think Lia will want her privacy.”
“Or maybe Pandora has a jealous streak and doesn’t want another female shacking up with her wizard.”
“Lame joke, Cesca.”
“Long weekend, Saber. Are you about finished cleaning?”
“Yeah, but I found a problem with the hot tub. I want to fix it now, so I’ll be here awhile.”
“Want me to come over and help?”
“Thanks, but no. I need to run out to Cosmil’s when I finish, so I’ll pick up something to eat before I come back to your place.”
“Get more food and litter for Snowball, too.”
“Got it.”
“By the way, what’s Lia going to do for transportation? Will we be shuttling her around?”
“Not a clue, honey. I figure Cosmil has something up his sleeve.”
“So long as it’s not my SSR.”
Saber disconnected on a chuckle.
I snapped my cell closed, set it on the table, and sighed. I would have loved to take a nap, but once I’m up, I’m up for eighteen hours. Okay, with occasional exceptions. Most of those involving Saber. Maybe this would be one of those good lovin’ nights when he’d leave me boneless and sleepy.
Meantime, might as well be productive. I left the amulet on the table, grabbed my luggage, and unloaded the dirty clothes right into the washer. With the machine filling, I headed to the bedroom with the near-empty suitcase but stopped short in the doorway.
Snowball, her back arched, her tail fluffed to three times its normal volume, stood statue still at the closed closet doors. She didn’t so much as flick an ear at my entrance. What the heck?
Then I heard an echo of Pandora’s warning. She will sense the unseen and alert you to presences.
Oh, damn.
A thump drew my attention back to Snowball, who emitted a low, unholy growl. She swiped one paw then the other at the bottom of the door.
In a horror movie, the idiot heroine would march to the door and ease it open. This was no movie, and I was sure no heroine. But Snowball had cornered something, and I needed to know what. Pronto.
I opened my senses. Stared at the white wood door. Imagined it slowly, ever so slowly, becoming opaque glass. It did, and a shadow appeared.
Snowball went bonkers, launching herself at the shadow. Hissing and spitting and yowling as if she were in a cat fight to the death.
I blocked the noise and opened more. I visualized the opaque glass growing window clear. Willed the shadow to be identifiable.
I knew it wouldn’t be Starrack or the Void. I also knew that was no living being behind the door. It felt too old. Too dead. Too fragile and frightened.
Of a kitten.
The vision sharpened with an audible snap, and I gasped to see a tiny woman wearing an eighteenth-century court dress. The tiny human woman who had been King Normand’s mistreated mistress and main meal deal—and my personal maid. The tiny woman who had helped bind me in that cursed coffin and hours later had been slaughtered by the townspeople.
She’d been the closest thing I’d had to a friend in King Normand’s court.
“Isabella?” I said on a wave of relief.
She gave me a hesitant nod.
“What are you doing here?”
She pointed at the still-crazed Snowball.
“You’re frightened of the cat?” Well, of course she was. Isabella had jumped at her own shadow in the old days, and not without reason.
“I’ll take care of her. Snow,” I crooned, crossing to the kitten. “It’s okay. Calm down now. This is a friend.”
Snowball flicked an ear at my approach but stayed hunched by the door. When I spoke singsong assurances to her, gently petted her, she only growled louder. I glanced at Isabella. Was Snowball telling me the ghost was an enemy in a friend’s guise? My psychic senses said no. So maybe the cat just didn’t like spirits in her territory. Whatever her issue, mine was to talk to Isabella.
I scooped Snow up, only to have her squirm and dig her hind claws into my ribs. Before she could scratch her way up my chest or twist out of my grasp, I shut her in the bathroom.
When I turned back, I half expected Isabella to be out of the closet. She wasn’t, and the door still looked like glass. Did I need to let her out?
Not without a further question.
“Isabella, are you alone?”
Her brown eyes narrowed as she seemed to look past the door and into the distant yard. “I am alone for now.”
“Do you want to come out?”
She shook her head and shrank away.
“Okay, but why are you here?”
“There is little time, but I have come to warn you,” she whispered.
Oh, great. Another warning. Like I didn’t have enough on my plate. Still, I nodded.
“Go on.”
“Something is awakening the king and his court. Something evil. Something with a darker soul than even Marco.”
My breath hitched. Finding a darker soul than Marco’s would be a trick. He was the psychopath who’d courted me when he was human. When I rejected him, he voluntarily joined the vampires, rose to become Normand’s right-hand vamp, and then captured me so I could be Turned. Marco had counted on pairing up with me, but Normand wasn’t a vampire to be manipulated. He’d nixed Marco’s plan.
Did Isabella know Marco was dead?
Didn’t matter. Th
e evil she spoke of had to be Starrack and the Void, but awakening the ghosts of vampires?
“What does the evil want with the king and his cronies?”
Isabella’s nearly solid shoulders lifted in a shrug. “The evil creates chaos. Fear. Vampires excel at both. This is all I know.”
“All right, but I’ve never felt their spirits on this property. Or yours, either, Isabella. Not even when I was still buried under the ruins.”
“After the massacre and fire, the vampires were dismembered and their pieces scattered. We humans, our remains were thrown into the river.”
“I’m sorry you were treated with disrespect.”
“It was not your fault, Francesca.” Isabella said, stepping closer to the door, her voice gaining strength. “You might have known the villagers were coming, but telling Normand would not have made a difference.”
I flushed with old guilt. “How did you guess I knew about the plot?”
“I saw the weight of knowledge in your eyes, my friend, but we were ready to die. We were at peace away from the monsters, even those of us who did not immediately cross over. The vampires, I do not know what happened to their wretched souls, if they possessed souls at all.”
“So you’re saying this evil is calling Normand and his crew back from wherever they went?”
Isabella nodded.
“Are they coming to this property?”
“Oh, no. This ground has been reconsecrated. They cannot come here.”
I gaped at her. “A parish priest blessed the land?”
“No, the holy man. The one with the great panther at his side.”
I inhaled so hard the room spun. Cosmil had been on Maggie’s property? When? And why hadn’t he released me from the coffin? He had to have known I was buried right under his twitchy wizard nose.
“Francesca, you are woolgathering when I must leave.”
I blinked at the ghost’s fast-fading form.
“Sorry, Isabella. Thank you for the warning.” I paused, caught by the sad smile she flashed. “Um, do you want out of the closet now?”
“I have used much energy, so yes, if you would be so kind.”
Three steps brought me to the closet. When I twisted the knob, a wisp of white streamed into the bedroom, just like a Hollywood special effect. Isabella’s essence floated to the living room, leisurely enough that I could follow, then when I opened the front door, Isabella’s thin trail of white shot toward her burial place. The Matanzas River.
The River of Slaughter.
Dark clouds had gathered. I’m not sure when that happened. After Isabella’s shade left, I wasn’t aware of much at all—except the questions chasing through my brain.
Then a crack of thunder rattled the cottage, echoing as it rolled out to sea. I shook off my mental fog to find myself propped on the sofa, Snowball curled sleeping on my lap.
It figured the cat would nap while I worried, but what freaked me was that I didn’t recall letting her out of the bathroom. Talk about being zoned out.
I needed to tell Saber about Isabella’s revelations. I needed to confront Cosmil about leaving me buried in that stinking coffin.
I needed to know what the hell time it was.
Snowball barely twitched as I eased her from my lap and rose to check the digital clock on the kitchen stove. Eight forty. Damn, I’d spent more than two hours lost in thought. That wasn’t like me.
In fact, it wasn’t like me to be so lethargic that I’d wanted a nap, either.
A rash of goose bumps climbed up my arms.
Was the Void beginning to infect me?
No. No, no, no. Think positive, I commanded my brain. You’re perfectly hale and hearty. Your vitality meter is off the charts. You’re the Energizer Bunny with fangs. Now move it.
I scooped up the cell phone, flipped it open as I marched to the laundry room, and punched Saber’s number. One ring, and I moved my clothes to the dryer. Two rings, and I added softener sheet. Three rings. I let the machine lid slam shut and paced into the living room.
Saber answered on the fifth ring.
“Cesca,” he shouted. “You’ll have to talk loud. We have a hell of a storm going on out here.”
“Are you at Cosmil’s?” I yelled loudly enough to hurt my own ears. Clearly, this was not the time to tell him about Isabella.
“Yeah, and downed trees are blocking my SUV.”
“Are you all right? Do you need me to come get you?”
“We’re fine, and I don’t need a ride, but I do need a favor.” He paused a beat. “You still there?”
“I hear you.”
“Listen, Triton was supposed to be here hours ago. I can’t reach him on the phone, and Cosmil is worried.”
“He’s probably just resting before he shifts tonight. Or there may be broken limbs blocking his streets.”
“Is it storming there?”
I peered out the window. “Not now. It’s moved off shore.”
“You’re likely right about Triton resting, but will you go check on him anyway? Give Cosmil some peace of mind?”
I’d rather give the wizard a piece of my mind, but in the spirit of staying positive, I agreed.
“I’ll call you when I get to his place.” No response. “Saber?” I hollered.
The line was dead.
Peachy.
Not feeling quite the urgency Cosmil did, I took the time to rewrap my ponytail and then changed from my shorts outfit and sandals into a pair of cutoffs, a Florida Gators T-shirt, and sneakers. No socks. Maybe I’d head to the beach myself. Meditate on health affirmations while I listen to the ocean. Heck, maybe I’d stick around until sunrise and surf. I kept an extra bathing suit in my truck. If the storm still sat off shore, the waves might be worth catching.
I grabbed a beach towel, stuck my phone in my pocket with my driver’s license, and then wrestled my board out of the laundry room. The amulet still on the kitchen table winked in the light, so I snagged it, too. I locked the cottage but didn’t set the alarms. I remembered Neil’s warning about arming them if Saber and I would be coming and going half the night.
It was tricky to load my board in the SSR with any stealth, but I managed. Within ten minutes of talking with Saber, I cruised out of my neighborhood and down San Marcos, past the bay front and over the Bridge of Lions. I sang along to my favorite CD because it revved me and because, really, who can be stressed or scared when the Beach Boys are blasting through the speakers? I even had the bushy-bushy hairdo the lyrics touted. Brown, not blond, but still.
Triton’s place was soon in my sights. Faint light shone from the shop, but his apartment upstairs was dark. Great. He’d either run late getting to Cosmil’s, or he’d already left for the beach to shift. Back in the days that I’d gone with him, he’d insisted on being near the ocean between nine and midnight, no matter what the true astronomical time of the new moon.
It was just nine now.
Of course, Triton might be sleeping, in which case I’d bang on his door and chew him out.
I drove past his store and turned on the road that took me by the lighthouse. A few turns on backstreets would take me to the one that ran behind his property. I’d park in the drive, knock on the door, maybe peek in a window. Then I’d call Saber back with a clear conscience.
I maneuvered around two lights-flashing cop cars at the end of Triton’s block and crept on down the narrow road littered with storm debris. A few sizeable limbs were down, but only twigs and leaves covered Triton’s driveway. Nothing to scratch up my SSR.
As I exited the truck, the wind rose, caught my ponytail, and lashed strands across my face. Interesting. The air crackled with a different energy here than at home, and the scent of rain was heavier. Old storm going or new one coming? I looked up to search the sky, and a fat drop of water plopped dead center on my forehead.
I swiped it away and stomped up the stairs to Triton’s door. More twigs and leaves carpeted the deck, and what looked like muddy footprints clumped around
the apartment’s entrance.
I sidestepped the mud and briskly knocked.
And the door flew open under my knuckles.
Nothing reached to jerk me inside, but my every muscle clenched in dread as soon as I smelled the stench of blood.
TEN
“Triton?” I whispered.
No answer.
“Triton?” I spoke louder to push the fear from my voice.
It didn’t work, but I gingerly crossed the threshold anyway. Between the streetlight filtering in the room from behind me and my trusty vampire vision, I took in the destruction.
Lamps broken. Couch cushions askew. Books and knickknacks scattered helter-skelter on the carpeted floor. Beyond that, a kitchen area that was similarly trashed. Guilt that I hadn’t hurried more threatened to flood me, but it didn’t look like five minutes would’ve made a difference. I didn’t have time for regrets anyway. I had to find Triton.
Then I spotted two legs sticking out from behind an armchair.
Crap and triple crap.
In a blink, I stared at Triton where he lay sprawled face up, one shoulder against the wall as if he’d slid down it. Blood oozed from a gash on his forehead and from his nose, and his lower lip looked split in the corner. Dark stains smeared his light-colored shirt and shorts, and one of his sneakers was untied.
“Triton,” I said as I shook his shoulder.
His eyelids fluttered open. “Cesca?”
“Who else? What the hell happened?”
“Bounced myself off the walls.”
“With help from what army? Here, let me help you up.”
I held out my hand. He grasped my forearm instead, grunting and gasping until I had him on his feet.
“Can’t go to the hospital, Cesca,” he panted as I tugged his arm over my shoulder to help him to the armchair. “Have to shift soon.”
“Duh. Where’s your first aid kit?”
“Heal when I shift. Don’t need first aid.”
“Yes, you damn well do,” I snapped, and released his weight.
Always the Vampire Page 10