Blood Game

by Iris Johansen

  “Yes, I’d describe a tendency toward vampirism as being very awkward,” Jane murmured.

  “And they didn’t think I’d be a suitable guardian for my sister, so before they died they set up a trust find and made arrangements for her to go to a series of private schools. I admit I resented that lack of confidence. I loved Maria. I would have seen that she had a good life. But Maria was years younger and very different from me. No darkness about her. She wanted to live life and drain every minute of pleasure from it.”

  “You did love her,” Eve said, her gaze on his face.

  “Oh, yes. As I said, there weren’t many people that I did care about. Anyway, she met a young man while on vacation in Paris. Carlo Givano. Handsome, charming, hardworking, totally devoted to making her fall in love with him. He persuaded her to elope and took her back to his home, a vineyard outside Genoa.” He paused. “When I went to visit her, I liked him. I went away convinced that she’d made a decent marriage.”

  “And did she?” Jane asked.

  “No.” He looked out at the lake. “Givano was a member of the cult. He’d been sent to track down members of the Ridondo family, namely, female members: the males might have proved too difficult. There were still stories being repeated in the cult of the Ridondo brothers’ powers. They didn’t want a confrontation, they wanted a victim.”

  “Why?”

  “They were experimenting, trying to find the strongest bloodline to lead them to their resurrection. They thought it logical that since she was a descendant of the Ridondos, her blood would be almost magical. That it might even give them instant resurrection.”

  “And Givano lured her to them.”

  “Jelak was on the scene by then, and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her. He paid Givano to give her to him.” His lips tightened. “He was clumsy. He wasn’t sure what he was doing. He kept her alive a long time before he realized she wasn’t going to let him win the game.”

  “So you set out to find Jelak,” Eve said. “What about Givano?”

  He turned from the lake to look at her.

  He didn’t need to answer, she thought. It was all there in the stark brutality of his expression. She had seen what he had done to Jelak. What he had done to the man who betrayed his sister would have been equally horrendous.

  She looked down into the coffee in her cup. “I’m sorry about your sister. I can see why you would have been so bitter.”

  “Can you? Yes, you know what it’s like to lose someone you love.” He smiled. “Well, is your curiosity satisfied? Are you ready to let me go off into the sunset?”

  “No.”

  His brows rose. “No?”

  She looked up at him. “You may have done it for your own purposes, but you saved Joe, and you saved me. I can’t forget that. I feel a certain bond.”

  “What?” He shook his head. “You’re much more clear thinking than that.”

  “Maybe I’m not.” She got to her feet. “But I don’t think that we’re through with each other, Caleb. I don’t know what you’re going to be to us, but we’re going to have to play it out to the finish.”

  He suddenly chuckled as he stood up. “I told Quinn that you’d want to put a period to the episode. You’re not doing that, Eve.”

  “Just a comma.” She smiled faintly. “I may have need of a hunter.”

  He turned to Jane. “What about you? A period?”

  “I’m taking it under consideration.” She added coolly, “I don’t appreciate ‘invasions.’”

  “But you liked that one.” His lips indented at the corners. “I made sure you would.” He turned and started down the steps. “But I’ll respect your decision, whatever it is. That’s part of the code I’ve tried to teach myself. Good-bye, ladies.” He glanced at Jane, and he smiled. “It’s been an experience I won’t forget.”

  Jane got up and joined Eve at the steps to watch Caleb climb into his car.

  “Quite an experience,” she murmured. “I’m not sure that you were wise to make any commitment to him at all.”

  “I didn’t make a commitment.”

  “You didn’t cut him loose or turn your back. With Caleb, that could become a commitment.”

  She shook her head. “I told him the truth. He knows all about truth and lies. Probably no one could differentiate better.” She glanced at Jane. “Could they?”

  “No, I guess not.” She watched him drive away. “I’m going to be leaving tomorrow. I have to go back to Paris. I let Celene Denarve, a gallery owner, talk me into another show there. It’s scheduled for next week.”

  Eve looked at her in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because then you would have tried to make me go back and made it difficult for me if I decided to cancel the show.” She made a face. “Almost as much as Celene would have if she’d had to postpone. She’s been a good friend to me, but she’s got a bit of a Gallic temperament.”

  But Jane would have canceled it without a thought if she’d thought Eve needed her here, Eve knew. “You bet I would have made your life difficult. Dammit, you dropped everything to fly to my rescue.” She reached out and lovingly took Jane’s hand. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Jane said. “I did it for me. I would have been a nervous wreck if I’d had to gnaw my fingernails worrying from across the Atlantic.” She added teasingly, “What? Do you think I like you or something?”

  “I thought there was a possibility.” She reached down and patted Toby’s head. “Of course, it might be that you just missed Toby.” She smiled. “If this is going to be your last night here for a while, I’ll ask Joe to put some steaks on the grill. You always like to barbecue.”

  Jane nodded. “I like the ambience more than the food. The sun going down over the lake, the smell of the charcoal, you sitting on a folding chair beside the grill watching Joe. When I’m away, I remember all those things.” Her gaze went to Joe standing by the lake. “It’s good that I’m going away right now. You need some time alone with Joe. Things are . . . different now.”

  “I can’t deny that’s true,” she said. “When I picked you up at the airport, I never dreamed how different they were going to be. But Joe seems to be handling it well.” She glanced at Jane. “How are you handling it? We threw a lot of weird stuff at you. To your credit, you never threw up your hands and told us to go to the nearest psychiatrist.”

  “What can I say? If you were nuts, I didn’t want to be sane. So I had to go along for the ride.”

  “It was a rough, bumpy ride.”

  “But we all came through it.”

  Eve gazed at her searchingly. “But in what state?”

  “You’re asking me if I believe in Joe’s ghost? I still don’t know. It’s hard not to believe in her after you got that call from the senator. Yet it defies everything that’s solid and sure in my life.” Her hand tightened on Eve’s. “But you’re solid, you’re sure, and so I have to believe everything you believe. Yeah, I believe in Nancy Jo, but I’d believe a hell of a lot more if I could see or touch her.”

  Eve laughed. “That’s my practical Jane.” She released her hand. “Now I think I’ll go down and tell Joe that a barbecue is in order.”

  “I’ll take the steaks out of the fridge.” She hesitated as she turned toward the door. “You told me about Nancy Jo. You didn’t tell me if you’d told Joe that you’d been seeing Bonnie.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “It would have been difficult. Nancy Jo was enough of a problem for him to face without Bonnie being thrown into the mix.”

  “For him to face, or for you to have to give up to him?”

  “What are you talking about?” Eve asked impatiently. “Joe has grown almost antagonistic toward Bonnie in the past few years. It would have just added fuel to the fire for him to know that my obsession has grown to the point that I even dreamed about Bonnie.”

  “‘Dreamed’?”

  “It’s hard for me even now to admit she i
sn’t a dream. Imagine how hard it would be for Joe.”

  “But now he has his own out-of-the-world experience with which to compare it. I’d think that would make a difference, don’t you?”

  Eve looked away from her. “I’m not sure.”

  “You don’t want to give her up,” she said softly. “I was wondering if you’d react like that. You don’t want to share her. She’s been yours all these years in a way that was incredibly secret and special. To tell Joe about it would be like giving her up to someone else. You can’t stand the thought.”

  “Ridiculous. I love Joe.”

  “That doesn’t mean you want to share Bonnie with him. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to treasure Bonnie. You just have to realize what you’re doing. It was difficult, but you understood about Nancy Jo. That must have meant a hell of a lot to Joe. This is the time when Joe might come close to understanding why you never shared Bonnie.”

  Eve felt stunned as Jane’s words hit home. Dear God, was Jane right? Eve had thought she was protecting herself from everyone thinking she was a nutcase. She had thought she was protecting her relationship by not letting Joe know how overpowering was her obsession.

  But she was actually keeping Bonnie a deep, precious secret so that she wouldn’t have to share her. As selfish as a miser hoarding her gold.

  “It’s true, isn’t it?” she whispered.

  “Only you will know that, Eve,” Jane said gently. “Nothing could be more natural than for you to react like that. She’s your baby. She was taken away from you in life, so you want to keep this spirit of Bonnie close and safe. But either way you have to face it so that you can handle it. As I said, things are different now.” She reached over and kissed Eve’s cheek. “I’m going to go in and get out those steaks and start packing.”

  Eve still stood there after Jane had gone inside, staring down at Joe beside the lake. His brown hair was rumpled from the breeze and his tea-colored eyes were squinted slightly from the rays of the setting sun. His shirt was open and even from where she stood, she could see the tiny wounds that scarred his chest and abdomen. Wounds that Jelak had inflicted because Joe wouldn’t allow Jelak to use him as bait. He was stubborn and loyal and giving and as loving as he was tough.

  Emotion surged over her as she stared at him. Dear Heaven, she loved him.

  She started down the steps. “Joe!”

  JOE TURNED TO SEE EVE COMING down the steps. She was smiling, her expression eager.

  “What?”

  “Jane’s going back to Paris.” She had reached the bottom of the steps. “I thought we’d have a barbecue for her. Okay?”

  “Sure. But you didn’t have to come down to tell me. You could have called me back to the house from—” He stopped, stiffening, his gaze going to the top step of the porch behind Eve.

  Bonnie.

  She stood there behind Eve like a loving shadow.

  No, there was nothing shadowlike about the little girl on the step. She was standing straight, her legs slightly parted, all bright curly hair and eyes that shone as brilliantly as the sun on the water. Not a shadow. A guardian, fearless, vigilant, watching over Eve.

  And watching over him?

  “Joe?” Eve said.

  Bonnie met his eyes and slowly nodded.

  Then her luminous smile lit her face.

  “What’s wrong, Joe?” Eve had stopped on the bank in front of him.

  He pulled his eyes away from Bonnie. “Nothing.” He was bewildered, uncertain, and yet he was absolutely sure that nothing was wrong.

  He looked back at the porch. No little girl. Bonnie was gone. What else could he expect? She was the one who had taught Nancy Jo the trick.

  He tried to clear his head and remember what Eve had said. “You didn’t have to come down to get me.”

  “I wanted to come down. I wanted to be near you.” She stopped in front of him. “Touch you.”

  He smiled. “Be my guest.”

  She reached out and put her hand on his bare chest. He could feel the warm smoothness of her palm, the strength of her fingers from years of working the clay. His heart began to beat harder as it always did when she touched him.

  “And I want to talk to you,” she said. “I want to sit down here on the bank and talk about all the years we’ve been together.”

  He grimaced. “Past history. Let’s strike new territory. I’d rather talk about the future.”

  “No, first we have to talk about the past.” She looked up and met his eyes. “Because then we have to talk about Bonnie.”

  THE END

  * * *

  Eve Duncan Will Return

  April 20, 2010

  ALSO BY IRIS JOHANSEN

  Storm Cycle (with Roy Johansen)

  Deadlock

  Dark Summer

  Quicksand

  Silent Thunder (with Roy Johansen)

  Pandora’s Daughter

  Stalemate

  An Unexpected Song

  Killer Dreams

  On the Run

  Countdown

  Blind Alley

  Firestorm

  Fatal Tide

  Dead Aim

  No One to Trust

  Body of Lies

  Final Target

  The Search

  The Killing Game

  The Face of Deception

  And Then You Die

  Long After Midnight

  The Ugly Duckling

  Lion’s Bride

  Dark Rider

  Midnight Warrior

  The Beloved Scoundrel

  The Magnificent Rogue

  The Tiger Prince

  Last Bridge Home

  The Golden Barbarian

  Reap the Wind

  Storm Winds

  Wind Dancer

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  BLOOD GAME. Copyright © 2009 by Johansen Publishing LLLP. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.stmartins.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Johansen, Iris.

  Blood game : an Eve Duncan forensics thriller / Iris Johansen.—1st ed.

  p. cm.

  ISBN 978-0-312-36812-8

  1. Duncan, Eve (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Serial murder investigation—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3560.O275B58 2009

  813'.54—dc22

  2009016921

  First Edition: October 2009

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  CHAPTER

  1

  Malua, Samoa

  Present Day

  TWO MINUTES.

  The explosive was in place beneath the back veranda of the house. The charge set.

  Agent Art Benkman slid behind the garden wall that surrounded the pool and house and waited.

  No mistakes this time. His superior wouldn’t tolerate another near miss. It had been made clear that Black must be destroyed. He was a monster who knew too much.

  No, he’d seen Paul Black go into the house an hour ago. It was the best time for the kill. Only one person in the house beside that son of a bitch. A house keeper who occupied the end bedroom of the rambling bungalow. He’d seen her light go out two hours ago. She’d be asleep by now.

  Good night.

  And good-bye.

  No one would survive this blast. He’d had to be sure.

  One minute.

  The flames from the blast would probably reach the top of those palm trees hovering over the roof.

  “I’ve got you, Black,” he murmured. “Burn in—”

  Pain.

  He was flipped over and was looking up at the man who had sent the needle-sharp stiletto deep into his back.

  Black. But it couldn’t be Paul Black. He was in the house.

 
No, he was here. That dark, devil’s face…

  “Who sent you?” Black asked. “Who told you I was here?” He was searching in Benkman’s pockets, pulling out his wallet, and the e-mail that he’d received two days ago. He glanced at it and smiled. “Very explicit. And you obeyed blindly like a good agent? Never mind. You don’t have to answer. I don’t need you now.”

  “Kill you…” Benkman whispered. “I have to—”

  “Die,” Black supplied as he picked up Benkman as if he were a child. “That’s all you have to do.” He was carrying him over to the house. “How do you feel about cremation?”

  “No!” He started to struggle as panic overcame pain. “Don’t leave me here. It’s going to—”

  “Blow?” Black dropped him on the floor of the great room. “In about forty seconds.” He looked down at him. “Why don’t you see if you can make it through the French doors and out onto the terrace? You might survive then.” He turned and strolled out of the house.

  Bastard.

  Benkman rolled over and started to crawl toward the French doors.

  Pain.

  The blood was pouring out of the wound as he moved.

  Weak.

  The blood was slippery…

  He was dying.

  No, he’d be okay. He was always okay. He just had to get out of this damn house.

  So slow. He was moving so slow.

  He reached the French doors. Now crawl out onto the veranda. He was almost there…

  And then he saw Black standing by the garden wall and watching him. He was smiling.

  He tapped his watch.

  Too late, Benkman realized frantically. He was too late. Time had run out.

  “Don’t leave me!” he howled. “Get me out of—”

  The house exploded and became an inferno.

  “HERE’S THE REPORT, SIR. Shall I call Atlanta and give it to her?”

  Venable scowled as he looked down at the report that Agent David Harley had put in front of him. This inquiry was shaping up to be a king-size headache. Why had he become involved in this mess?

  He knew the answer. He liked Joe Quinn and Eve Duncan, and they had helped the CIA on many occasions. When Catherine Ling had asked him to pull strings and get this report concerning the death of Eve’s daughter, he’d thought it might be a way to pay back.