Triton came to me in a dream.
I stood at his mind door, deciding whether to knock. The door cracked to show a thin, glowing line, then blew wide open. I was sucked into a blinding light, falling through space and splashing into an azure sea awash in foam.
Triton flashed the wide smile I knew from his boyhood. “Remember this?”
I wiped water from my eyes and found us bobbing in the water beyond the breakers as if we were body surfing, waiting for a wave. Then he took my hand and dragged me to the ocean floor where a treasure chest was wedged into a coral bed.
“Open it,” he mouthed.
I did, but it was empty.
I caught the top and side of the rough box and leaned inside. A tiny golden dot suddenly appeared where there had been only a void. As if in slow motion, the dot floated higher.
“Catch it,” he commanded, but when I reached in, my hand plunged into a cold, oily mass that crawled over my skin.
When I opened my mouth to cry out to Triton, the black ooze dove into my mouth and down my throat, thickening until I couldn’t breathe.
I jerked awake to find my face buried in the pillow. Duh. No wonder I was smothering. It was a dream, just a dream.
Still, it was almost dawn before my heartbeat slowed to its normal rate, and I dared to shut my eyes.
Tuesday afternoon, I awoke almost an hour earlier than usual, and with a bad-dream hangover. Or maybe it was a slept-before-daylight, broke-my-routine hangover, but I’d been exhausted. From Ike’s murder to learning of Saber’s past, the emotions of the last day and a half had me feeling like I’d Hoover-sucked my own aura.
The sound of keyboard keys periodically clacking got me moving. Poor Saber, typing one-handed. I brushed my teeth, wondering how good his healing powers were and if the cast was already for show more than stabilizing the broken wrist. But since only a handful of people must have known about his rapid healing, he had to leave the cast on for now.
By the time I’d washed my face and scraped my hair into a ponytail with the stretched out scrunchie I’d been using for two days, I felt better. And worse. I needed a new scrunchie, not to mention a change of clothes. The jeans and top I’d worn for two days were ripe, and I don’t even sweat. And, damn. I was supposed to be watching Maggie’s doorstep for cabinet hardware on back order, and watering her plants.
I stopped in the office doorway, intending to tell Saber I needed to make a run home. He looked up and grinned.
“Hey, good news. I got a coded e-mail from Candy, and she’s got a team together.”
“That’s great. When are they hitting Vlad?”
“Maybe tonight, but probably not until Thursday. They’re planning strategy while they unravel some red tape.”
He shrugged. “Not much. I got a call from Jackie, my Realtor. She wants to show the condo tonight and several times every day this week. Think you can help me speed shop for all that stuff she wants me to get?”
The Triton-dream hangover vanished. I had a mission, and I could pick up a change of clothes while we were shopping.
In the next two hours we hit Tuesday Morning in Ormond Beach, a Target, and a Wal-Mart. I’d decided against buying clothes since we were on a tight deadline, but I did check off all the items on the staging list.
“What do you say to going back to St. Augustine tonight?”
“Fine by me, but don’t you want to be around in case Laurel and Marco cause problems?”
“If they do, the damage will be done before I can get there. Wherever there may be. With Jackie showing the condo this week, it’d be easier to be gone.”
“Good point.” Yippee. Fresh clothing and my own shampoo.
“If you want, I can stay at Neil’s place. I’ve got the key, and he won’t mind.”
“He might not, but I would. Bring your laptop, and set up Operation Vlad at my place.”
“You mean somewhere more remote in case vamps—or back then, weres—came after me?”
I nodded.
“I thought about it, but I didn’t want to fool with maintaining a house and yard.” He looked over and grinned. “Plus, I knew the resale value on the condo would be damn good.”
He reached over the console to take my hand. “I’m ready.”
By five that afternoon, we had accessorized Saber’s place to HGTV perfection. Aside from adding colorful vases, throw pillows, and art, we’d assembled a bistro set. We also packed Saber’s sensitive files and books with titles like The Vampire Slayer Handbook. Okay, so that wasn’t a real title, but those books came off the shelf, and the Starbloods came out of the fridge. Wouldn’t do for a potential buyer to see that.
Once we’d finished staging, we spit-shined the condo to a show-ready gloss. Saber threw a week’s worth of clothes and toiletries together, and we headed out.
Saber had just shut the tail door on the SUV when I heard a plaintive mewling echo in the concrete parking garage.
“You hear that?” I asked Saber.
“But what if it is? Help me look, would you? She’s been gone over twenty-four hours now. She might be hurt.”
“Cesca, I’m telling you, Pandora can take care of herself. If there’s another cat down here, it probably belongs to one of the owners.”
“I know, and I won’t take it home. Promise. I just need to be sure.”
I heard him mutter, “Famous last words,” before I began calling. Two Here, kitty kitties later, a little ball of pure white fur edged from behind the rear tire of a Jaguar and tottered toward me.
I ignored Saber’s “Here we go,” and scooped up the kitten. She fit in one hand, and when huge crystal blue eyes blinked at me, my heart turned over.
“Oh, Saber, she’s so tiny and skinny.” I gently petted the top of her head.
“But what if the owner doesn’t find her in time? Or is out of town? Or what if she’s a stray?”
“Oh. Hadn’t thought of that. You’re right.”
I carried the kitten, now purring in my cupped hands, to the alcove by the staircase, rubbed my cheek against her downy fur, and set her down on the cement.
Saber did. He rolled those sexy cobalt eyes at me, and then stomped toward a door marked Storage. He fumbled with a key and disappeared inside. A couple of thuds later, he came out with a medium-sized cardboard box, and relocked the door.
“Here.” He thrust the box at me, opened the rear door of the SUV, and handed me a towel. “Get her settled while I leave a note for the office.”
I snagged the back strap of his sling. “Saber, if you’re allergic, or you really don’t want me to take her, I won’t.”
He gave me a rueful grin. “You think I can leave her now that I found her?”
In a flash of warmth, I knew he wasn’t talking about just the kitten.
“Uh, no is right.” He pulled me in for a quick kiss. “Go take care of Snowball, so we can hit the road.”
I didn’t say it. I never brought it up, not in the hour it took to get back to St. Augustine. Not when we stopped to get Saber a fast-food burger. Not even when Saber stopped at Wal-Mart to buy kitten food, a litter box, and toys. Nope, I never one single time mentioned that he had named the kitten before we ever had her in the car.
Must’ve been our night for felines, because Pandora, in her house cat form, perched on the tiki bar on my patio.
“Pandora, geez, where have you been? I’ve been worried.” Saber stood next to me, and Pandora stretched to look into the box at Snowball.
“She’s not a snack,” Saber said, shifting the box away.
Pandora huffed, than turned her amber eyes to me.
Saber cocked a brow.
“She said,” I translated as I unlocked the door, “that they went west and south, and she lost them after a few hours.”
“Could be anywhere by now. Here.” He shifted Snowball’s box to me. “I’ll get the other things from the car while you talk to Pandora.”
I nodded, pushed the door open, and put Snowball’s box on the coffee table before I hit the code to turn off the alarm. Pandora padded in behind me, pausing to sniff each room in general, then stretching up to sniff Snowball again.
“Okay, good to know. Do you have anything else to report about the vamps? Did you tell Triton about the trouble? Is that where you’ve been all this time?”
She swung her head around. Triton will speak to you. Listen. I will keep watch.
With that, she trotted out my open door.
Triton would speak to me, huh? He’d better, and he’d darn well better speak to me clearly, not through another dream. I was so over these veiled messages.
Saber and I settled Snowball and organized Saber’s command central space in the kitchen. Laptop on the table, VPA files in their storage box stowed underneath.
I checked Maggie’s Victorian wraparound porch for the cabinet hardware. No delivery yet, so I watered her plants which, thankfully, were still thriving. On the way back to my cottage, I turned on my vamp hearing to see if the Listers were home yet. Silence. Good.
Saber got to work on entering digitized log information of Laurel’s movements into a GPS charting software program. The printouts would not only time stamp everywhere Laurel had been but would also plot the times her tracker had been working and when it hadn’t.
I remembered to make the hotel reservation for Jo-Jo, and since I’d sadly neglected my art institute classes, I booted up my own computer.
When Saber went to bed, I played with Snowball until I wore her out again. Then it was time to knock on Triton’s mind door. If nothing else, I’d tell him to stay out of my dreams.
I’d missed the cushy embrace of my leather couch and took a moment to get comfy. With the charm in my left hand, the static quickly morphed into the sound of waves breaking on a shore. Triton’s mind door appeared in my third eye, already cracked as if he knew I was coming.
“A vampire named Ray mentioned a madness in the senior vampires. And a darkness. Is that what you’re hiding from?”
I blinked. I was finally getting real answers instead of double talk?
“Wait. Faeries and elves are real?”
“Don’t take that long-suffering tone with me. I get it. Void thing is hungry and shape-shifters are on the menu, too.”
“Well, of course we must. You get me the destroyer handbook, and I’ll jump right on it.”
In my mind’s eye, Triton shook his head. The Void is not a joke.
“I’m not laughing. I’m trying to understand. Don’t you give this thing more power by fearing it?”
“How? From behind the scenes, like the way you held land in trust for me? Wanna talk about that?”
“I know. How much do I owe you for back taxes? You might as well tell me, because you know I won’t be in debt.”
The door slammed shut. Damn it.
August thirteenth. I woke slowly from a dreamless sleep, savoring memories of this time last year. The lucky day for me when Maggie’s hefty construction foreman had stepped just so on a rotten part of the kitchen floor and fallen into the tiny basement where I had been trapped for over two hundred years.
The man had landed on the lid of my coffin and might’ve broken through that, too, except that the wood had been darn near petrified when King Normand had put me there. After another couple of hundred years of curing, it didn’t give an inch.
His plunge had jarred me, though, and if I screeched a little, who could blame me? Maggie didn’t, even if it did cost her the man’s construction expertise. He scrambled out of the hole he’d made yelling about the dead talking, and dashed out of the house just short of vampire speed.
Maggie? She lowered herself into the hole and removed the worst of the debris from the coffin, talking to herself the whole time. When she tentatively knocked on the lid, I knocked back.
“Hello out there,” I remembered saying. “Please don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Okay, in retrospect, that sounded lame, but my friend Maggie is about as fearless as they come. When she said to hang on and she’d get me out, I stopped her.
“I’m, well, I’m a vampire, and I’ve been here a terribly long time, so before you release me, may I ask for three things? Please?”
“What do you need?” she’d asked.
“Give me a few hours,” she’d declared, and she was as good as her word.
She’d come back with Neil, who grumbled that Maggie was insane, but she’d prevailed. She put Neil to work cutting the silver-laced chains fastened to the coffin while she drilled a hole in the side of the coffin near my head. After centuries of using vampire hearing to eavesdrop on the distant, changing world, so much noise from power tools right outside my box was deafening.
When the hole was drilled clear through, a small beam of filtered light let me see with my physical eyes. Excited, elated, exuberant. Words couldn’t touch the myriad emotions rioting in my heart in that moment. I would’ve cried if I’d been hydrated enough to make tears. Clever Maggie soon fixed that.
She stuck an extra long straw through the hole, explained how to use it, then put the other end of the straw in bottle after bottle of blood. I sucked them dry without feeling the least bit queasy from the smell, and then Maggie fed me water chasers through a clean straw.
When the chains lay on the basement floor, Maggie and Neil took tire tools to each end of the coffin and gently pried the lid loose. I pushed from inside, and, with a whoosh of fresh air, I was free.
Neil took one look at me and brandished the tire iron. Maggie? She asked me my name.
“Francesca Melisenda Alejandra Marinelli,” I’d told the petite yellow-haired angel.
She’d stepped closer, put out her hand to take mine, and said, “I’m Maggie O’Halloran. Welcome to the world.”
That sealed it. Maggie became my best friend forever.
The baggy blue nylon shorts, equally baggy T-shirt, and rubber flip-flops she brought for me to change into seemed indecent at first. Of course, that was before I saw my first bikini. I thought the bikini bra was a fabric sample. Now the hairbrush Maggie gave me? That was the Holy Grail.
What a long way I had come. Correction, we had all come. Thanks to Maggie, I had a new lease on afterlife. Thanks to Saber, I had a sex life. Above all, I had a family of my heart, friends, and a future.
And I’d better get moving if I wanted to enjoy what was left of the day.
I went to the kitchen to snag my Starbloods, expecting to see Saber hunched over his laptop, but he wasn’t in the house. Neither was Snowball, and I wondered if Saber had taken her to PetSmart. If he came back with one of those huge scratching post hotels, I was arranging an intervention.
A long, leisurely shower and hair washing later, I was in a short, silky robe, flatironing my wild hair as straight as I could get it.
I was just about finished, when a huge bouquet of flowers appeared, reflected in the mirror with Saber peering through the foliage.
My eyes swam with tears, and I dropped the flatiron on the counter as I turned.
I touched one of the red roses mixed with white calla lilies and ferns. Then I noticed the art deco-style vase he held with his good hand, and steadied with the hand in the sling.
He grinned. “I found it at the store here, and took it to the florist to fill. These are the flowers you like, right?”
Dear man. “They’re perfect. Thank you.”
I took the flowers from him and leaned in for a kiss, when a white, whiskered face peeked out of Saber’s sling.
“Meow?” the kitten squeaked.
Saber pulled me the rest of the way into his body. “Never mind her. Kiss me.”
I did until I felt little claws dig into my robe. Then I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Mood spoiler,” Saber said to Snowball, before swatting my butt. “Go get dressed. I have a full schedule planned.”
When I finished my hair and makeup, I slipped into my favorite denim Capris, an icy blue bra top camisole, and sandals. The outfit was dressy enough for nearly anything Saber had planned, and with the mermaid charm tucked into my cleavage and a spray of the gardenia perfume Saber had given me for my birthday, I was ready.
My steps faltered when I entered the living room. On the coffee table were a bouquet of daises, a gallon of Publix sweet tea, a package of Fig Newtons, and three gift cards.
“The flowers,” Saber said, “are from Millie and the Jag Queens. The bookstore gift card and tea are from your tour guide friends, Janie and Mick.”
The Fig Newtons and Blockbuster gift card were from Maggie, I knew. That cookie was one of the first solid foods I’d nibbled on about a month after I’d come out of the coffin, and we’d spent so much time at Blockbuster in my crash course to get up to speed with the twenty-first century, the staff knew us by name. The surf shop gift card was from my hang-ten buddy, Neil. Not that I can hang ten, or even five, but Neil and I had bonded through surfing. A far cry from when he was ready to bash me with the tire iron.
Saber cupped my cheek, brushed a tear away with his thumb.
“Yes, Sally Field, they do, but no crying on your very first anniversary. We have things to do.”
The rest of Wednesday afternoon and evening, Saber and I made memories. First we strolled St. George Street, had a bite of free pizza (I took the smallest one), and then stopped to taste-test gelato. The whipped cream-looking treat coats the tongue like a lover’s kiss, and I couldn’t resist testing three flavors. Between the gelato and tiny bit of pizza, my stomach groaned. I can eat real food, and I eat a touch more now than I used to, but my stomach is too shrunken to tolerate much.
We headed to the bay front next. Specifically to the marina. Surprise! We were taking the sunset sail on the Schooner Freedom , the replica of a nineteenth-century blockade-runner. For two hours, Saber and I sat hip-to-hip near the bow and held hands. The nearly full moon rose early, and we watched dolphins riding the ship’s wake as they escorted us past the city sights.
After dinner on the second-story veranda at A1A Ale overlooking the bay (Saber ate, I picked), he took me back to the bay front, this time to the horse-drawn carriages. One carriage with white bows and bunting on the sides displayed a sign on the back reading Happy Anniversary.
“Saber,” was all I choked out before he kissed me.
Our driver was a man in his fifties with a careworn face, shaggy salt-and-pepper hair in a thin ponytail, and look-into-your-soul blue gray eyes. I knew that intense gaze from somewhere but couldn’t call up the memory. Then again, duh, I likely saw him every time I guided a ghost tour. Saber had to have paid the man something extra, though, because the driver didn’t start the tour spiel that was part of the whole tour-by-carriage gig.
Saber must’ve read my mind, because he held me close and whispered, “He’s just driving us tonight so we can enjoy the evening and cuddle.”
“Works for me,” I murmured, pulling his head closer for a kiss.
We kissed again at the Love Tree. Actually got out of the carriage to stand under the palm tree that grows right out of an oak tree. The legend is that if you kiss your lover under the commingled trees, your love will last forever.
When the hour-long carriage ride ended back at the bay front, the driver turned his intense gaze on me. He winked, and in a rusty voice said, “Never underestimate the power of love.”
Caught off guard, I could only smile, thank him, and take Saber’s hand to step out of the rig.
As I glanced at the driver a last time, a shiver shimmied up my spine.
“You cold?” Saber asked. “Your blue hoodie is in the car.”
He dropped a kiss on my nose. “Yep, because we have one more excursion before your anniversary night is over.”
A walk on the beach in the almost full moonlight. What could be more romantic? A yellow comforter, a bottle of sweet tea for me, wine for Saber, and daringly making love on the beach with just the shadows of the dunes to give us the illusion of privacy.
We stayed on the beach for hours, talking, touching, just being together. My heart was so full, my body so sated, that I drifted to sleep in the cocoon of Saber’s arms later, knowing what feeling cherished truly meant.
Thursday afternoon, we were back to business, but I didn’t mind in the least.
Saber wrote a coded message to Candy while I first checked for Maggie’s package (not there), then wrote thank-you notes for my anniversary gifts. Oh, I’d called, too, and left messages, because no one answered their phones. But good manners were important, and writing a note was an extra way to show how much I appreciated my friends.
Snowball wreaked havoc batting my cards and stamps around, but she was now snug in Saber’s sling. The sling he didn’t need anymore and hadn’t been wearing for the past day, but Snowball had dragged the thing to Saber and meowed until he put it on.
“You work tonight?” he asked as I finished sealing and stamping my last note.
“Shoot, I knew I forgot something. I’ll call, but I imagine I’m back on the schedule, since I’ve been off for three days. Will you stay here to wait for word from Candy?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought I’d go with you and run interference if that ghost hunter shows.”
Elise Williams, owner of Old Coast Ghost Tours, confirmed that I worked the early shift tonight and Friday, but was off on the weekend. Then she told me what a riot my friend had been on Leno Wednesday night. My bad. I’d forgotten all about Jo-Jo’s appearance.
“That spot increased our business,” Elise said. “In fact, your tours are sold out for tonight and tomorrow.”
“I’ve asked Janie and Mick to help you out. Keep the autograph hounds from bothering you.”
I must’ve looked queasy as I said good-bye, because Saber got up to steady me.
I gripped his shirt. “Did you happen to remember about Jo-Jo being on Leno?”
“I set the DVR. You want to see it?”
We hit fast-forward until Jo-Jo appeared on the screen. Then Saber rewound a smidge and hit Play. With Leno’s usual flair, he introduced Jo-Jo, and the curtains parted.
“Good evening, thank you. Yes, it’s true I’m a vampire. Hard to tell me apart from anyone else in L.A., isn’t it?”
The joke elicited chuckles, and Jo-Jo went on with some of the jokes he did during open mike night, and then juggled. Judging by the laughter, Leno’s audience thought Jo-Jo was hilarious, but why did Elise think this had increased business?
When Jo-Jo sat with Leno, I knew.
Leno got Jo-Jo to talk about his court jester days, rubbing elbows with royals. That’s when Jo-Jo said he had feared getting royally flushed when he came to St. Augustine, but that Princess Ci was one of the good ones. He mentioned my ghost tour job, then extolled the glories of living in a town where the local princess didn’t want to rule over other vamps.
“Aw, geez.” I dropped my head in my hands.
Saber was more succinct. “Shit. That’s gonna piss off the Covenant from coast to coast.”
TWENTY
Gorman wasn’t lying in wait at the tour substation. Instead, a crowd of thirty ghost tourists chattered loudly enough to wake the, um, dead.
Janie in a Victorian costume and Mick in his Spanish soldier suit hurried toward Saber and me, and someone in the crowd yelled, “There she is!”
Saber thrust me behind him just as Janie and Mick reached us. Mick stood shoulder to shoulder with Saber against the stampede, and Janie huddled next to me.
“Back off, folks. Now.” Saber’s voice cracked across the space, and everyone froze.
“Wow, are you the bodyguard?”
“No, the boyfriend.”
The crowd laughed but fell back, and Mick spoke up.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is a ghost tour, not a rock concert. We need some order here.”
When the group energy downshifted from crazed to curious, I stepped from behind Saber and smoothed the skirt of my sapphire Regency gown.
“I’m delighted you all came out for the tour, but we do have a schedule to keep with the ghosts. So, please gather around me in an orderly fashion, and we’ll begin.”
I introduced Janie and Mick, and off we went without another incident. Okay, I did have writer’s cramp at the end of the evening from signing autographs. I felt like a fraud, impersonating a celebrity, but it would have been rude to refuse. Vampire superpowers I may not have, but I have manners in spades.
When the last tourist walked jauntily off, I hugged Janie and Mick.
“Thanks for your help, and for your anniversary gifts.”
“You thanked us in your phone message,” Janie teased. “I bet you sent a note, too, didn’t you?”
I nodded, and she rolled her eyes.
“You’re terminally polite, you know that?”
“You want crowd control help tomorrow, Cesca?” Mick asked. “I heard another thirty people signed up for that one.”
“You two don’t have something better to do?”
“Lots, but we can do that later, can’t we, Janie? It was kind of fun to be part of your entourage.”
I groaned. “Please, stop. I want this hubbub to die down.” We chatted a few minutes more, but Saber was getting antsy about the raid on Vlad’s place. After we’d parted, it dawned on me that Kevin Miller hadn’t been on the tour. Maybe he’d given up waiting for me to come back to work and had gone home, but my little voice nagged that something was off.
Candy was supposed to call with her raiding-Vlad’s-nest report, but hours dragged by while we waited.
I gave halfhearted attention to my homework while Saber fidgeted, watched ESPN, played with Snowball until he wore her out, then paced. He was jumping out of his skin by the time midnight rolled around, but five minutes later, his cell rang.
A quick check of caller ID, and he turned on the speaker.
“Candy, you guys good?” he asked.
A loud pop in the background, a little screech, and a curse crackled over the speaker. I shot out of my chair. One beat, two, and finally Candy spoke.
“Sorry, Saber. Crusher just opened some champagne all over me.”
I exhaled on a whoosh of breath as Saber pulled me down beside him. “I take it the night went well?”
“Well is relative. We’ve got some answers, and we’ve got Vlad in custody. That’s why I’m callin’ so late.”
“You made a capture, not a kill?”
“Got Vlad with a stun gun. I didn’t think it would work, but one of the guys on the task force nailed him. Once he was down, we got the silver shackles and guards on him and swept the building.”
“Candy, tell us what happened.”
“Us? Is Cesca there?” Candy laughed. “Well, a course she is. Okay, here’s the skinny.
“From what we got out of three different vamps, Marco is down your way. He put his tracker in some poor homeless guy who was probably more dead than alive to begin with. Vlad stuck him in a hole of a room where he died.”
I glanced at Saber and grimaced.
“So you’ve got Vlad on felony murder. Did the vamps tell you why Marco is in Florida?”
“Oh, yeah. Most of ’em couldn’t tell us enough, but Jemina is apparently a woman scorned, and she spilled that Marco’s workin’ with Laurel. She told us Vlad wanted Ike removed, and Marco went to do the job.”
“That fits our theory. You find any payment records to Vlad from Ike?”
“We found reams of records, and it’s fascinatin’ stuff. We also found at least a partial list of vamps who are rakin’ in tributes across the country, but this next part is weird.”
“Hit me.”
“The vamps in major nests are in turn makin’ payments to someone else. Someone higher, I have to assume. The amount varies, but it goes to an offshore account.”
“Shit.”
“By the truckloads. I’ve already got the forensic accounting team on this, but I don’t know how far they’ll get before the owner of the account finds out we’re tracing it.
“It’ll be closed and another one opened.”
“Yeah. The big question is, who or what could possibly have that much control over vampires?”
The madness, Ray’s voice whispered in my head.
“The what?” Candy asked.
I blinked at Saber. “Did I say that out loud?”
Saber gave me a questioning look. “Yeah, you did. Are you getting something psychically?”
“I’m not sure how I got it,” I said, rubbing the goose bumps that erupted on my skin, “but I think it ties to what Ray told us on Monday.”
“Wait, people. Catch me up. Who is Ray?”
“Ray,” I began, “is a vamp who was Ike’s friend and attorney. Ike willed his worldly goods to Ray, so Ray takes over Ike’s nest.”
“Gotcha. Go on.”
“We interviewed him and the rest of Ike’s vamps on Monday night, and Ray told us privately that there was a madness affecting the major nest vampires. He didn’t elaborate, but you could tell he’s seriously alarmed.”
“I don’t suppose Laurel’s tracker is workin’,” Candy said.
“Negative, it appears to have been removed entirely. As of Monday, Ray had temporarily shut down the club, and he’s keeping his vamps nestbound.”
“No reports of activity that would point to Marco and Laurel bein’ on a rampage?”
“Been as quiet as a tomb.”
Candy was quiet a long minute.
“All right, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll hurry the forensic accounting team along, and you two see if you can get more information out of Ray. Crusher and I will work on Vlad, maybe even give him a chance to cut a deal if he’ll tell us what’s goin’ on. Meantime, I’m puttin’ out an alert to headquarters and every VPA office in the country.”
“You getting Homeland Security involved?” Saber asked.
“And the FBI and freakin’ CIA if I have to. We’ve got to bring these suckers down. Every last one of them.”
“Won’t Mr. Big with the offshore account just come after the next heads of nests?” I asked.
“Not if we can get one of the honchos to roll on this guy.” Candy sighed. “I’ll admit the chances of that are slim and none, but Slim ain’t left town yet. And, Saber, you need any backup, you call us. Crusher can be down there double time with half an army of his freelancers.”
“Good to know. We’ll talk to Ray tonight and check in if we learn anything new.”
Saber snapped the phone shut and tapped it on his knee. I didn’t like his speculative expression.
“Are we going to Daytona now?” I asked.
“No, I don’t want to disturb the perimeter Ray has set up.”
“What perimeter?”
“Except for last night during our date, I’ve been checking in with him.” His lips twitched. “Remember how vampires like to have psychics or witches in their camps?”
“I was one, and what’s funny about it?”
“It seems that Suzy is also a fairly powerful witch, and has set wards on the property.”
“Her witchy powers didn’t go haywire when she was turned?”
“Apparently not. That’s why I don’t want to go out in person, but if we call Ray to question him, you think you might be able to get in his head enough to read him?”
“I can try.”
Saber jerked his chin toward the computer. “Turn that off so the mail alert doesn’t ding.”
I did, and also grabbed a pad and pen as he dialed Ray. I didn’t know Saber had the number, but then I didn’t know the residence had a phone line.
“Nest residence,” Miranda said in her crisp British accent.
“Hello, Miranda, this is Saber. Is Ray available?”
“He has Tower engaged in a rousing game of chess, but let me call him, Mr. Saber.”
Tower played chess? Suzy the vampire cheerleader was a witch? I was starting to feel like an underachiever.
“Saber, is there any news?”
“That’s why I’m calling. Vlad is in custody, and the vamps in his nest are cooperating with the VPA.”
“And they have confirmed what?”
“Vlad wanted Ike out. He sent the vamp we told you about, Marco, to work with Laurel and get the job done.”
“Marco is the one who is immune to silver?”
“If the reports are true, yes.”
“Are Laurel and this Marco still at large?”
“’Fraid so. The VPA in Florida is on alert. I notified the agency Monday that they were Rampants, but these two are flying off the radar.”
“So it is advisable to keep the nest secure?”
“Yeah, though you might be able to help us get a break if you’re willing to help.”
Ray paused. “Help how?”
Saber gave me the high sign to turn on the mind probing, but I was already there. Not picking up anything yet, but tuning in as best I could. I doodled on the pad to clear my mind.
“You mentioned that the upper-level vampires, the ones running the bigger nests, were being afflicted in some way. You called it a madness, but can you be more specific?”
“Un momento.”
We heard footsteps, voices in the background, then a door closing before Ray spoke again.
“You understand I can only give you my observations, yes?”
“That’s fine,” Saber said. “Anything to go on will help.”
“Rico—that is, Richardo, the head of the South Beach nest—could be somewhat fearsome, but was stable in temperament.”
I closed my eyes and let Ray’s voice wash over me.
“Months ago, perhaps in October, Rico became more erratic in his behavior. At first, he lashed out at his nestlings over small matters that he shrugged off in the past. Then he grew more easily enraged, meting out harsh punishment to those who would before have been given only a reprimand.”
“Did he feel his authority was being challenged?”
“I do not think so, and yet he grew to be more and more paranoid, especially since March. I began to hear the same thing from vampires in other major nests. Their leaders were following a similar pattern.”
“Besides Ike asking you to investigate Laurel, was there anything in particular that made you leave?”
“Rico was becoming insular. Seeing only his advisors.”
Of which Ray was one. I slid into his memories and watched as he entered a large, dark chamber. A magnificent chandelier hung in the center of the room, yet only a few candles lit the room. Rico sat in a high-backed armchair crowded into a corner. No windows ran along those walls, though both the other walls were lined with windows. I had the impression of a fabulous mansion that had once bathed in the south Florida sun. Now shadows crept along the floors, an oozing, oily fog.
“What happened when you asked to leave?” Saber asked.
I flinched as the scene unfolded in Ray’s memory. Rico rose from his armchair, and the candlelight caught his gaunt face. He gestured wildly and shouted in Spanish about Ramon’s betrayal. Ramon—Ray—assured Rico he would return; Rico wouldn’t hear him. He backhanded Ray, but the blow that should’ve launched Ray across the room barely snapped his head to the side.
Rico is starving. His energy is being drained.
I wrote the words on the pad without conscious thought, without even opening my eyes, but Saber must have seen it.
“Did you notice physical differences in Rico? Did his habits change? Did he seem to age?”
Ray sighed. “You remember when some of the independently living Miami vampires disappeared?”
“Yes.”
I remembered, too, because Saber had gone to Miami to investigate right after we started dating.
“Rico—”
Ray broke off, but the scene in his mind kept playing. Vampires and a few humans who seemed to be spouses were dragged before Rico. If the vampires would join his nest, he would spare them. Those who resisted . . .
I snapped my eyes open and clutched at Saber’s good arm, but it was too late to stop the images of blood spurting as Rico tore out their throats.
“Let me simply say Rico was feeding more often, and yet the feedings did not sustain his energy.”
“Damn it to hell.”
“So it would seem,” Ray replied. “I have shared with you. What are you not sharing with me?”
“Before I tell you, let me ask you one more thing. Does Rico have an accountant?”
“One who is a vampire, yes. He was one of Rico’s advisors. Or I suppose he still is, if he lives.”
“Did this vampire mention Rico was paying another vamp?”
“He did not know who Rico paid, but money transfers were made.”
“To an offshore account?” Saber pressed.
“Yes. What have you found?”
“The raid on Vlad’s nest turned up records of payments from minor nests to him, and from him to an offshore account. The feds are tracing it, but would you speculate that whatever controls the account is responsible for this madness thing?”
“Madre de—It is la oscuridad, Saber. The darkness. I can say only two more things. Do not be surprised if the account disappears.”
“Yeah, we’re figuring that’s a good possibility.”
“I would call it a certainty. Tell the princess that I allowed her to see into my memories so she will recognize the black fog. The darkness. Do not let it consume her.”
“Black fog?” Saber paused. “Ray?”
The line was dead.
I collapsed back on the couch as Saber shut the cell phone and then pulled me into his arms.
“What the hell did you see?”
“Rico killed at least ten vampires and their human mates, but he looks almost emaciated. Like something is draining his life force, not just his aura energy.”
“The black fog?”
“I saw it in the room, sort of spread out over the floor.”
“Is that why you’re shaking?”
I took a deep breath. “No, I’m shaking because I forgot to tell you that I got info out of Triton. He called this darkness thing the Void. He said it preys on the power of vamps and magical beings.”
“Humans, too?”
“He didn’t say, but the black fog in Rico’s house looked similar to the dark shadows Kevin caught on video last week.”
I felt Saber’s lips in my hair. “I noticed Kevin wasn’t on the tour tonight.”
“I know. When I realized he wasn’t there, I figured he’d left town. He told me he had a limited time here. A few weeks, I think, but I don’t remember more than that.”
“And now you’re afraid he’s, what?”
“I don’t know. He wore enough silver crosses to ward off most any vamp, but my little voice is screeching that something is wrong.”
“Did he give you a card? Tell you where he was staying?”
I thought back to the first time I’d met Kevin, then sprinted to my closet. The pirate outfit. If I’d kept the card he’d shoved at me, it had to be in the pocket.
It was, and it listed Kevin’s address, phone number, MySpace page, and a paranormal investigation website. Another number was handwritten on the card.
“Find it?”
“I did, but it’s too late to call if he’s gone home. I’ll check his MySpace page first.”
“How will that help?”
I activated my laptop screen. “He told one of the groups last week that he’d upload his videos to some Web page or MySpace. I can’t remember which one, so I’m starting with this.”
The page came up in pieces, and I gave a quick glance at his blog titles.
“There.” From over my shoulder, Saber pointed at Kevin’s last blog entry. “St. Augustine Shadow Man?”
I clicked, brought up the blog dated Thursday morning, and scanned it. Basically, he wrote about the amorphous shadow he’d caught on video and mentioned the differences between it and a typical shadow man. He gave a link to his video, and, when I clicked it, the two videos of the shadow and the light entities played across the screen.
“Is this the shadow you saw when you were reading Ray?”
“It’s similar, but the one in the vision stayed low to the floor. It didn’t loom up behind Rico or Ray. Or if it did, I didn’t see it.”
I tapped a nail on Kevin’s card where it lay next to my laptop and stared at the scrawled phone number. I recognized the exchange as a local one. His hotel? It went against every mannerly instinct I had to call so late, but what was the worst that could happen if I called? I’d wake him up? I’d disturb a tryst between Kevin and Leah, or Kevin and Caro? Heck, the hotel operator might tell me Kevin had checked out, and I could shut my little voice up entirely.
“I’m calling,” I said, and scooched away from my desk to go grab the cordless in the kitchen.
I stood in the kitchen doorway, biting my lip as I punched in the number.
“Is Kevin Miller still checked in?” I asked when an operator answered.
The woman who was either sleepy or bored out of her skull asked me to hold, and then the line rang.
Once, twice. I let it ring five times before I hit the Off key and put the unit back on the charger.
“Not there, huh?”
“No, but he’s apparently still checked in.”
“Maybe he’s out with those girls he hooked up with.”
“Maybe. I wish my little voice believed that.”
Saber sighed and scooped his keys off the coffee table. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“To Kevin’s hotel.”
Night clerk Beth Gravis wasn’t happy when Saber introduced himself, showed her his badge, and asked her to let us into Kevin’s room. Nope, not happy even when Saber flashed his sexy smile.
“Is he a scam artist? I just upgraded him to a patio room two days ago, and I’ll be in trouble if he’s skipped on the bill.”
“It’s nothing like that,” Saber said. “We’re concerned he’s had an accident.”
Alarm flared in her hazel eyes. “Should I call an ambulance?”
“Let’s see if he needs one first.”
Beth didn’t grumble as she led us to Kevin’s first-floor room, not with her lips pursed in a thin white line. She jammed the card key in the slot and pushed hard on the lever handle.
As the door swung open, I saw a flash of movement in the dimly lit room.
And smelled jalapeño, garlic, and cheap cigar.
“Saber, it’s Gorman.”
But Saber already had his Glock in his hand when he lurched inside. Beth and I crowded in on his heels.
“Gorman, stop right there, or I swear I’ll shoot you and enjoy it.”
Frozen in the threshold of the sliding glass door I assumed led to the patio and pool, Gorman sneered. “You wouldn’t shoot an unarmed man.”
“You want to test me? Lace your hands behind your head. Do it now.”
As Gorman complied, Beth said, “Vic?”
I peered at her slack-with-confusion expression. “You know Victor Gorman?”
Beth swallowed. “He works here. He’s one of our maintenance engineers. He told me this Mr. Miller was writing a hotel review and talked me into the upgrade.”
“To this specific room?” Saber asked.
“Yes. Should I call the police?”
Saber nodded, and Beth scurried off, leaving the heavy door to clunk closed behind her.
“Keep your hands laced and sit in the chair.”
I held my breath while Gorman complied, and I scanned the room for signs of, what? The Covenant didn’t take kindly to vamp-friendly humans, but would Gorman harm Kevin?
The bed was made, clothes hung in the open closet, and from peeking in the bathroom, I could see toiletries strewn on the counter. Kevin’s cameras and other equipment appeared to be missing, but maybe he was ghostbusting on his own tonight. Wait, Kevin’s laptop lid was half-closed. That didn’t fit.
“Saber, I think he’s been on Kevin’s computer.”
Saber hardened his cop face. “Is that right, Gorman? What were you looking for?”
“I got the right to remain silent.”
“Cesca, see if Kevin’s stuffed in the bathtub.”
Gorman snorted. “He ain’t in there. He left with two gals afore dark.”
“Where’d they go?”
“How the hell should I know? Can I put my hands down now?”
“No. What’s the deal with having Kevin moved to this room?”
“I ain’t sayin’.”
“Fine by me. I’m happy to see you stay in jail. You should be there for attempted murder, but Cesca won’t press charges.”
Gorman’s eyes shifted to me then away. “I was just fixin’ the slidin’ glass door catch.”
“Right. At one thirty in the morning.”
I saw police car lights strobe through the window, then heard the hotel room door lock tumble and open.
Saber didn’t move, but I whirled to face an astonished Kevin. Before he could speak, the EMF meter he held suddenly screeched, and then St. Augustine’s finest burst through the sliding glass door.
An hour later, the cops had sorted out the story. While Kevin, Leah, and Caro had gone on a lighthouse ghost tour, Gorman had entered Kevin’s room by simply jiggling the sliding glass door lock until it failed. Something he knew the lock would do because he purposely hadn’t fixed it. At which point Beth had muttered, “He is so fired.”
When pressed as to why he’d broken in, Gorman admitted he’d been on Kevin’s computer looking for the list of vampires who were moving to St. Augustine. Why he thought such a list existed, never mind why Kevin would have it, boggled the intellect. Then again, that was Gorman. And, though he was cuffed and led away, I was betting he wouldn’t stay in jail long. He must have a bail bondsman on speed dial.
Kevin said that, after the tour, he and the girls had trolled the lighthouse neighborhood, and made contact with a spirit who called himself the Mariner. Or that’s what he thought the voice said when he’d listened to it in a near-empty all-night restaurant. Saber and I declined his invitation to hear the recording for ourselves and left the hotel with a word of thanks to Beth.
Relieved as I was that Kevin was safe, my body didn’t seem to have the memo yet. My shoulders had more knots than the berry farm, so much so that Saber noticed.
“Why don’t you go surfing this morning?” he said as we got into his car. “You haven’t been out in a week, and it might relax you.”
He was right. I’d missed the exercise and the Zen-ness of simply feeling the ocean roll under my board.
“And tomorrow afternoon when you get up, I’ll have the information you need to claim your land. You can start ripping out vines to your fang’s content.”
“Are you trying to keep me busy?”
“I’m trying to take your mind off things neither of us can do a damned thing about right now.”
“What about taking your mind off things?”
“You’ve got a king-size bed that can help me out there, so long as you’re in it with me.”
I took his hand and squeezed. “Home, Saber.”
The waves on Friday morning weren’t the stuff of surfer dreams, but my spirits rose the moment I hit the water.
I joined some other surfers I knew by face more than name, and hung with them awhile. Later, I paddled out farther than the others, just to sit and be, but about levitated off the board when something hit my right foot.
Last time that happened, a dead body had surfaced. This time a dorsal fin broke the water in an arc. Not a shark, a dolphin. Whew! I watched as it swam nearer, and wondered for a moment if it could be Triton in his shape-shifted form. But no, the moon would be full tomorrow. Triton changed only at the dark of the moon. Well, he did unless his inner shifting clock had changed over the centuries.
“Triton?” I said as the dolphin approached.
It dove under my board, then did a Marineland-worthy leap out of the water on the other side.
“Triton, damn it, if that’s you, you’d better get your flipper over here now.”
The dolphin bobbed up near my left leg, clicked and whistled, but a fast mind probe told me this wasn’t Triton. This was a dolphin out to play, willing to connect with me. I reached to touch, and it lifted its beak to my hand. For a moment suspended in simple, profound accordance, we met gazes. Then the dolphin slowly rolled away from me. It circled back once more before arching away toward the shore.
I paddled hard to follow, and in an exhilarating minute, we had both caught a wave, the dolphin and me.
We were nearing the shallower water when the dolphin peeled off. I rode the wave until it fizzled into froth, and packed it in for the day.
How can you top surfing with a dolphin for a natural high?
Something in me must’ve healed that morning, because I felt better than I had in a week when I woke up Friday afternoon.
It helped that Saber had news. First, Kevin had called to thank us for catching Gorman. I knew Kevin would be on my tour tonight, even if he had to crash it, and I didn’t care.
The second bit of good news was that Saber had sweet-talked his former Realtor, Amanda, into giving him the information I needed to claim my property. I’d wait to file on Monday, but I could hardly wait to talk with Maggie about fixing up the place.
Even Candy had checked in with cautiously optimistic news. Vlad stonewalled them in the interrogation, but the offshore account hadn’t been closed yet.
The one surprise was having visitors ring my doorbell at six fifteen that evening. I didn’t recognize the two men in their sixties dressed in green polo shirts and gray Sansabelt slacks that I spied through the peephole, but they weren’t selling Amway.
Saber stood at my back, hand on his holster as I opened the door.
“Ms. Marinelli?” the slightly taller and thinner man said.
“Yes?”
“I’m Reggie Princeton, president of the local Covenant organization, and this”—he indicated Polo II—“is our vice president, Phil Jameson.”
“Gentlemen,” I said, being pleasant as you please, though my muscles tensed for trouble.
“I’m Deke Saber. What do you men want?”
“To apologize for the actions of Victor Gorman,” Reggie said without hesitation.
“Which actions, exactly?” Saber pushed.
“All of them. The stalking, the threats, the arrow incident. None of his actions have been or will be sanctioned by our branch of the Covenant.”
“Why not?” Saber asked. “That’s part of what you do. Provoke vamps until they defend themselves, then call for an execution.”
“Some branches do those things,” Phil piped up. “We don’t. Not anymore.”
“Ms. Marinelli has proven herself harmless,” Reggie said.
“And?” Saber pressed.
“And our activities are under law enforcement scrutiny. From now on, we’ll merely keep an eye out and report problem vampires to the VPA for them to deal with. Gorman has been a—”
“Rambo wannabe?” I supplied.
Reggie smiled. “I was going to say he’s been a challenge to deal with since he joined, but your description is on target.”
“We appreciate knowing your new policy,” Saber said, “but what are you going to do about Gorman?”
“We’re tossing him out at the meeting tonight,” Phil stated. “That’s the worst we can do to him.”
“Um, can’t you do something less than your worst?” I asked. “Like fine him, or give him some very specific job?”
Phil’s eyes bulged. “You want us to keep him?”
I shrugged. “It’s better for someone to have an eye on him than for him to go completely renegade.”
Reggie and Phil exchanged a look. “You have a point, but Gorman is stuck on half-cocked. We don’t want to be blamed if he attacks you again.”
“What if,” Saber said, “you demand that he surrender his weapons, and tell him he’s not allowed to restock until you tell him to?”
“Knowing Gorman, he’ll start screaming about his Second Amendment rights.”
Saber shrugged. “Tell him it’s that, or he’s out of the club, and that you’ll inform me that he is conspiring to commit murder.”
Reggie gulped. “You’d trump up charges against him?”
“I’ll do what I have to do to keep Cesca safe.”
Reggie jerked a nod. “All right, but let me ask you something. Gorman is riled up about this Jo-Jo fellow coming back to town, and about rumors that a whole lot of vampires are moving here. How much of that is true?”
I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. “Jo-Jo,” I said firmly, “is doing a benefit here Saturday night and leaving again on Sunday. As for the other, there are no masses of vampires moving to St. Augustine that I know of.”
“And if more vamps were to move here,” Saber said, “they have the right to live where they want so long as they comply with VPA regulations and obey the same laws all of us do.”
Reggie and Phil reluctantly agreed, then turned their attention back to me.
“You really have no intention of setting up a nest?” Reggie asked.
“Mr. Princeton, even if I wanted to, which I don’t, my cottage isn’t big enough to house a vampire nest.”
Phil hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “What about the big house?”
“That’s Maggie’s home, not mine.”
“It seems Gorman has misinformed us about a lot of things, Ms. Marinelli.”
“Will you keep him in the fold?”
Reggie cracked a wry smile. “As long as you remember this was your idea.”
“Or until we get fed up enough to knock him off ourselves,” Phil added.
Reggie and Phil said cordial farewells and had just closed the gate when Hugh Lister stormed through the jasmine hedge. I braced myself for his onslaught.
“What did those two Covenant men want?” Hugh demanded.
I blinked. “You know them?”
“Know of them. Did they threaten you?”
“Uh, no.”
“Good.”
“Good? I thought you hated us.”
“I hate your loud parties and your late night shenanigans, and I don’t trust you one little bit, missy.”
“But?” Saber asked.
“I’ll be goddamned if some two-bit hate group gets away with scaring you off.”
Mouth open, I watched Hugh slam back into his house before I looked at Saber.
“Bless his holy name.”
TWENTY-ONE
Friday night’s tour went off without a hitch, other than that I again spent as much time signing autographs as I did telling ghost stories.
Kevin, Caro, and Leah showed up and made three more than we were supposed to have, but I didn’t complain. I introduced them to Mick and Janie, and Kevin showed off some of the video he’d shot during the tour. This time, he’d caught a few white shadows hovering around me and other members of the group, but nary a hint of a black shadow.
Saber teased me about Kevin as we walked home hand in hand.
“I think you’re starting to take the wounded under your wing like Neil says Maggie does.”
“Kevin’s a little weird, but he’s not wounded.”
“And Jo-Jo was wounded and a lot weird, but he grew on you.” Saber grinned. “And then there’s Snowball.”
“Oh, no, bud. I’m not taking the fall for Snowball. I felt sorry for her, but you’re the one who named her.”
“Okay, you’ve got me there.”
I grinned. “I’ve had you a lot of places.”
“Yeah, you have,” he said, drawling out his words. “Want to go for a new one?”
Saber said he had to check on Neil’s place, but what he did was seduce me into Neil’s solar hot tub for a romp. Even with his arm still in the cast, the hot tub was another reason to love Saber’s soon to be new house.
Later, while Saber slept back at my place, I killed time before picking Jo-Jo up at the regional airport by first working on my design classes, then playing with Snowball. She spooked me a few times when she stopped batting a toy to stare at the door, arch her back, and hiss, but I sent out feelers and didn’t sense anyone there.
Except for the third time when I heard Pandora chuff on the patio. If Snowball had been a dog, she’d have gone on point. I scooped her in my arms and cracked the door. Pandora in her full panther size sat smack on the threshold.
“Where have you been?” I spoke softly enough not to disturb Saber. “I thought you were supposed to stay nearby.”
Old Wizard had need of me, but you have been safe.
“Old Wizard?” Then I remembered. “Oh, the guy who’s at the big meeting. The guy you, um, live with. Right.”
The time of the first resolution is near. Be prepared to claim your power, Princess Vampire.
Pandora rose and turned.
“Come on, Pandora, give me a straight answer. What the hell is the first resolution?”
I will be there when you need me.
She padded toward the gate.
“When I need you for what?”
Silence.
“Pandora, it really ticks me off when you do this.”
More silence. Snowball relaxed and batted the feather toy I forgot I held.
At three forty-five by the light of the full moon, I drove to the airport. Jo-Jo bounded into the all but deserted terminal toting a fancy piece of carry-on luggage.
“Highness! Good to see you!” he gushed, then gave me air kisses.
Air kisses? This from the vamp who’d been prostrate at my feet two weeks ago?
Jo-Jo dropped more surprises on me en route to his hotel.
“Vince is negotiating a deal to star me in a remake of The Court Jester. You know, that movie? The original starred Danny Kaye. Anyway, the shooting schedule could be tricky, what with me only up at night, but Vince says if this company wants to do it bad enough, they’ll work it out with the unions. They might even shoot part of it here.”
“The tourism bureau will love it.” And they would, but Gorman wouldn’t. Might have to call my new Covenant contacts with a heads up.
“I hope I don’t have to sing,” Jo-Jo went on. “That could be trickier than night shooting. Now, guess who I looked up?”
“In Vegas or L.A.?”
“Daytona. I called Donita and offered her a job as my personal assistant. She took it, and she’s coming up to meet me tomorrow night before the gig. Isn’t that a stroke of genius?”
“It’s perfect for both of you,” I said, grinning to myself, “but I didn’t think she had her car back.”
“She doesn’t. She’s catching a ride with someone who’s coming up for the show at the Riot.”
“You said there were other acts, Jo-Jo. What time does the whole show start?”
“At eight, but I go on at nine and ten thirty. You will be there, right, Highness? For at least one show?”
For all the air kissing, that little bit of insecurity reassured me Jo-Jo hadn’t gone completely Hollywood.
“We’ll be there.”
I felt jumpy all afternoon on Saturday but figured the cause was either the full moon or simply anticipating Jo-Jo’s performance. When it was time to get ready, I paired black jeans with a lime green top and sandals, and put my hair in a ponytail. Saber wore black jeans, too, but with a blue shirt that made his cobalt eyes look like a stormy ocean.
We were headed out the door at eight fifteen when Candy called. Saber took the call with the speaker feature on as we hustled to the car.
“Vlad’s dead,” she said tersely. “He was startin’ to look ill, so we decided to move him while he slept. Son of a bitch woke up, broke out of the building, and ran into the sun. He fried before we could put out the fire.”
I shuddered and blocked the scene my imagination conjured.
“So much for getting his cooperation.”
“We lost the offshore account, too. It was closed at the last minute yesterday.”
“Did the investigators get enough to trace it?”
“I’m not sure yet, but the whole thing with Vlad is buggin’ me. He seemed to weaken and age while we had him in custody.”
I immediately thought of Rico, the black fog Void sucking his life force.
“You two have any idea why that would happen?”
“He was being energy drained,” I told her as we reached Saber’s car.
“How is that possible? We didn’t let anyone near him.”
“You didn’t have to,” I said. “Something is getting to vamps wherever they are.”
“What?”
I looked at Saber, waited for him to tell her, but he shook his head.
“Candy, our intel on this isn’t confirmed. We’ll do some checking and call you later.”
“All right, but keep me in the loop.”
Saber disconnected and faced me. “You okay about Vlad going up in flames?”
“It’s gross, but the real question is how he awoke in the first place.”
“The Void gave him a super shot of energy?”
“I don’t want to think about it.”
But I couldn’t help it, and my jumpy feelings shifted into overdrive as we sped through traffic to the island.
My nerves frayed to shreds when we found the parking lot near full but strangely quiet. No smokers stood outside as they had last time. And then we spotted Pandora in her house-cat form waiting at the club door.
The vampires you seek are inside. Go quickly. Help is waiting.
Stark fear ripped though me, and Pandora sprinted around the building before I finished relaying her message to Saber.
“Do you think Laurel and Marco have killed everyone?” I whispered.
“No, but they’re holding a hundred or more hostages we have to keep alive.”
“Please let them be in thrall.”
“Amen.” He drew his Glock, held it by his thigh, and reached for the huge half-moon door handle.
I gripped his cast to stop him. “Wait. Do we have a plan?”
“We take whatever help is waiting, and we end it.”
“That’s the whole plan?”
“Honey, vamps don’t do hostage negotiation. We know the basic layout of the building. I’ll take the first clear shots I have, and you wing it for all you’re worth.”
Wing it, right.
He pulled the heavy door open, and we stepped from the lights of the street into the dim club foyer. The smell hit me first. Not death. A sweet orange tang that clogged my throat.
I glanced at Saber. Mouth clamped tight, he jerked his chin. Move, I heard him say in my head.
I stutter-stepped, then stopped, eyes on Saber’s face. I hadn’t really heard him, had I? I’d read him. Had to. I didn’t have time for another shock now.
I eased into the club proper, Saber at my back, dread fisting tighter in my chest with each shallow breath. I scanned the humans frozen in place, figures in a wax museum. Grateful the thrall left them senseless, I edged deeper into the bodies suspended in time.
Sudden movement on the stage drew my attention, and a man stepped into the glare of two spotlights.
No, not a man.
The monster from my past. The vampire I’d convinced myself was dead.
Marco Sánchez.
Everything stilled in me. Blood. Breath. Life.
However he had disguised himself in Atlanta, tonight he’d stripped his mask. Midnight black hair the color of his soul. Dark, cruel eyes with the same glint of evil glee I remembered.
He stood on the stage dressed entirely in black, brandishing a short sword that flashed silver in the spotlights. As I watched, he paused, shielded his eyes, and made a pretense of seeing me.
“Ah, Francesca, Princess of the House of Normand,” he said with a mocking bow. “Welcome to my little reunion soiree.”
His voice made every drop of blood in my body go icy, but I controlled a shudder and looked at the others on the stage. Just out of the glare of the spotlights. Jo-Jo slumped in a chair, his hands bound behind him, Donita kneeling at his feet. She didn’t seem to be harmed, but neither did she seem completely in thrall. Shock waves of terror quivered from her.
Another female hunched across the stage floor from Donita. Laurel. Half-clothed, a grotesque tattoo of burn marks on her bare arms, and an oozing slash on her upper chest. She still wore Saber’s silver handcuffs and cowered beside Marco, yet her eyes flashed with rage.
“Now, now, Francesca,” Marco chided. “Is this any way to greet an old friend? Come closer.”
I turned to Saber, but he was frozen, too. My heart seized.
“Do not look to your tame mortal for help, Francesca,” Marco said silkily. “He will do as I tell him. Shall I demonstrate? You, throw down your weapon.”
Saber complied, but I saw the spark in his eyes and remembered. He was immune to enthrallment. Playing along.
“Wing it. I’ll move in when you distract him.”
A rush of relief made tears prickle my eyes. Then Marco ruined the moment.
“Francesca, my love. I will let them all live if you will come to me.”
Manipulative hell spawn. He gave me no choice.
Raw nerves scraped against each other as I moved toward the stage, picking my way through standing waiters and seated patrons, all in suspended animation. Thankfully, the thrall over everyone in the club save Donita and Saber seemed total.
“Don’t pull anything funny,” Laurel warned.
Marco laughed. “What can she do, you stupid bitch? My Francesca was ever a pathetic excuse for a vampire. She missed being human, but was too much the good girl to end her life.”
I winced at the truth.
“See how she cringes at my barb? She is still the same, oblivious to her powers, or she would have known I had a spy watching her.”
I cut my gaze to Jo-Jo, and Marco laughed again.
“Laurel was the spy, not Jo-Jo.”
“Focus, honey,” Saber said in my head. “Play him.”
I fought to wet my dry mouth and scrambled for something to say as I neared the base of the stage.
“If Laurel is your little fanged friend, why have you tortured her? And what is with that orange smell?”
He gave me a venomous grin. “You insulted me in the old days when you said my scent offended you.”
Everything about Marco offended me, but I flashed to the last time I’d seen him. He’d been a vampire for more than three years, yet his body held the odor of cumin and datil peppers, the spices his mother had used to cook, the smell that permeated his home. Marco sweated the smell before he was turned, and it lingered after.
“Ah, I see you recall. Sadly, I am still afflicted with my own signature scent. I had to disguise that from you, Francesca, or ruin my surprise. You are surprised to see me, are you not?”
“Brutally so,” I snapped. “Did you wear contacts as part of your disguise, Marco? To change the color of your eyes?”
“Ah, then Jo-Jo did describe me to you. Indeed, I went to much trouble to hide my identity until the time was right.”
“What’s the deal with Laurel?” I pressed as I neared the foot of the stage and a yawning hole beneath it.
Marco waved a dismissive hand. “Possessive ingrate, she tried to shoot you. Against my direct orders.”
Anger burned into my fear. “Laurel was the sniper?”
“With deplorable aim. I killed Ike for her and for Vlad, and even left my favorite short sword behind. Yet this cow whines that I have not killed Ray.” Marco spat on the floor. “Laurel is an encumbrance who would get in the way of my plans for you.”
“Plans?” I strove to keep my voice steady, to keep him talking, to stay calm.
But I nearly flew to the catwalk when a shadow startled me from the space under the stage. Triton, in-the-flesh Triton, rose from the shadows just enough to tug at my jeans pocket. He slipped something heavy inside the pocket, patted my butt, and melted into the darkness again.
“Who is there, Francesca?” Marco demanded, taking two swift steps toward me.
“A cat under the stage,” I blurted, winging it. “The thing startled me. That’s all.”
“You lie,” Marco snarled, sword raised.
Pandora meowed, loud and long. I smiled.
“Actually, I don’t.”
Pandora brushed past me and trotted up the stage steps.
With my heart slamming in my chest, I don’t know where I got a spurt of courage at that point, but whatever Triton had put in my back pocket pulsed and grew warmer. I followed Pandora up the five steps, intent on my mission to distract Marco. Did he know I could suck energy? Not unless Laurel had told him. She’d warned me not to try anything, but maybe that had been a hint, not a warning.
“You mentioned plans, Marco?” I stopped on the stage, subtly began drawing his energy, and prayed he didn’t notice. “If you had such big plans for me, why didn’t you come for me right after the villager uprising? I at least expected you to come after Normand’s treasure.”
“Ah, yes, you know me well,” he said, strutting to where Laurel cringed from him. “Come closer, or I will behead Laurel as I did Ike. Or shall it be Jo-Jo and his little friend?”
I gritted my teeth and took the smallest baby steps I could, still sipping his energy, the thing in my butt pocket pulsing with even more heat.
“Your story, Marco?”
“Sadly, the villagers turned on me, as you must have known they would. I was gravely injured by the fire, but my father—you remember my father, Francesca?”
“I remember.” I inched nearer, steadily sucking from Marco, even though each orange-flavored sip made my stomach churn. “Your dad was a Spanish soldier rumored to be a silversmith.”
“The rumor was true. He was a silversmith, and a very fine one in spite of the scandal in España.” Marco had drawn himself up straight, ready to take umbrage for any insult, but suddenly laughed. “Ah, yes, mi padre. A tender but stupid man. He took pity on me, hid me in his workshop. I begged him not to leave me where the silver would harm me. Do you know what he said, Francesca?”
I shook my head. I was less than ten feet from Marco, and the right side of my butt felt like a vibrating live coal, sending shock waves into bones, my skull. Hell, into my DNA.
“He said perhaps the silver would purify my soul and bring me back to him. Instead, the exposure made me immune. Or perhaps it was the exposure of being in his shop all those years before I was turned, but no matter. My flesh did not heal properly after the fire, but I gained strength enough to kill mi padre and feast on his blood.”
I gagged and snapped my psychic shield in place to keep from seeing more of the scene in Marco’s vivid memory.
“So you really are immune to silver?”
Marco shrugged almost humbly. “I did, of course, continue exposing myself to the metal over the centuries to ensure and build my immunity.”
I pulled a little more of his energy, my body throbbing now, a tuning fork on speed.
“Why have you shown up after all this time, Marco? You still haven’t told me your big plan.”
“It is the same as it ever was. I take you, Princess of the House of Normand, and together we rule. It is just as well that the magic symbols stopped me from reaching you before. We will have more influence now.”
“What magic symbols?”
He stared, his eyes unfocused, as if he’d lost his train of thought, then shook himself.
“You might be a pathetic excuse for a vampire now, but day-walkers are rare and have legendary powers. I have been chosen to teach you”—he paused—“to fulfill your destiny as King Normand’s daughter.”
Gads, Marco was slurring his words. Had he noticed? Whether it was me energy-sucking him or the thing in my pocket affecting him, I had to keep him talking.
“Marco,” I scoffed, “Normand wasn’t real royalty.”
“Normand,” Marco said slowly, “was a bastard son of the French royal house.” A pause. He was weakening. “It is the reason I gave myself to the vampires.” Another pause. “I could achieve power I would never have as the son of a soldier.”
Marco weaved on his feet. I took two steps closer to his side, almost within touching distance but out of Saber’s line of fire. I thought we had him, thought Saber would open fire. Instead, Marco whipped the short sword to my throat. His hand trembled, and I felt the blade slice into the side of my neck.
Rage flooded my vision, my being.
I jumped, pulling hard and fast on his energy. At some point I realized I was hovering eight feet in the air, but I held my focus. I drained Marco.
He dropped his sword and fell to his knees, but I didn’t stop sucking his aura. I couldn’t. Not even when the air between us turned black. My soul seemed to quake with the force of whatever Triton had put in my pocket. I had to hang on until Saber came.
Then Marco began to wither like a raisin, and I faltered.
Laurel crawled toward Marco’s sword, and Saber shouted, “Stop her.”
I swooped to the stage and kicked the sword away.
“Kill him. Behead the bastard,” Laurel screamed.
“No,” Triton said, suddenly on my right.
Saber was there, too, on my left. He took my shoulders and shook me.
“Cesca, stop now. Stop pulling Marco’s energy before you kill him.”
“But he must die,” Laurel screeched.
“He’ll be executed legally. Cesca, listen to me. His energy is black. It’s infecting you. Stop.”
“No,” Triton snapped, jerking me from Saber’s arms. “Marco must die now, or he’ll escape execution. The blackness is the sign of the Void. Marco must die and by your hand, Cesca. It’s the only way.”
“Let go!”
I sobbed and wrenched free of Triton, stumbled back. My right butt cheek burned, my throat felt like I’d swallowed oil, and I couldn’t think for the shrieking pain in my skull.
“Triton, I can’t kill him. I can’t.”
“Then give me the disk in your pocket. Now, Cesca. I need the medallion now.”
I expected the disk to burn me. It didn’t, and some instinct made me look at the medallion more closely. Hexagon-shaped, the size and thickness of a jelly jar lid, the clear crystal was shot through with silver and gold lines and framed in copper. A smattering of ancient-looking symbols were etched into the copper rim. I made out part of a musical note, and the Greek letter for Mu as the medallion beat its pulse into me, strong, slow, comforting. My heartbeat fell into synch.
Just as it did, Triton cupped my hand and jerked me down to where Marco lay on his back. He flipped my hand palm down and pressed the medallion to Marco’s chest, over his heart. With Triton’s hand pushing on mine, he muttered a string of words in a language I didn’t recognize.
Brilliant, blinding rays of white light burst from every surface of the medallion, and beamed into Marco. One moment he was there on the floor, the next he had vanished. I gaped, started to ask what happened to him, but Laurel lurched forward.
“Mine,” she screeched, clawing at the medallion.
At her touch, the light arched into her. She writhed on the stage as if snakes infected her body. Then she, too, dissolved into nothing, and the light collapsed into the disk.
My fingers curled around the medallion as I stared into Triton’s deep brown eyes.
“You killed them,” I whispered. “You made me help you murder them.”
Triton shook his head, and a stray lock of his tobacco brown hair fell across his forehead.
“We didn’t kill Marco, Cesca. We released his soul, and his body left with it. The female released herself.”
I glanced at the stage floor where Saber’s handcuffs lay empty, then at the medallion in my hand.
“What the hell is this thing?”
“I don’t have time to explain.” He snatched the disk and dropped it in his shirt pocket. “Trust me now as you trusted me before. The dark forces have lost two minions.”
He kissed my cheek, murmured in Greek, “Until later, dear friend,” and bolted off the stage before I could react.
I don’t know how long I knelt, stunned and alone, before Saber’s arms closed around me and drew me off the floor. I sobbed and buried my face in his shoulder.
“Cesca, honey,” he crooned as he stroked my hair. “Stay with me. I need you. Come on, now. The bad guys are gone, but we have a stage to clean up and people who are still enthralled.”
I blinked at him. “They are?”
“Every damn one of them. I don’t know why they’re still bound, but you have to release them. You can break down later.”
I hiccupped. “I suppose this is a bad time to tell you, but I don’t know how to release them.”
A footstep thudded on the stage.
“I do.”
TWENTY-TWO
We whirled toward the baritone voice—Saber tensed to fire his weapon, me darn near fainting when I saw the carriage driver from Wednesday night.
Except tonight he looked completely different.
He wore baggy black pants, a loose white tunic, and a midnight blue, honest-to-gosh full-length cape. His gray hair had seemed thin and dirty on Wednesday, but now it flowed to his shoulders like a white water wave.
He stood with his hands resting lightly on Jo-Jo’s shoulders. Pandora in full panther size sat on her haunches beside him.
I looked into Pandora’s eyes. “Your wizard, I presume?”
Pandora chuffed, but the man laughed.
“I am Cosmil, at your service. I promise, I offer no harm, only help.”
“If you know how to break a vampire enthrallment, you’re on,” Saber said and holstered his Glock.
“I even know why the spell did not break when Marco vanished. It is because, Princess, in taking his energy, you assumed responsibility for what he left behind.”
A flare of panic burned my gut. “Am I infected with Marco’s dark energy?”
“No, though I will teach you how to release unwanted energy as well.”
“Can we get back on track?” Saber said. “It’s ten o’clock, and a few hundred people are missing over an hour of time.”
“It’s really ten?”
“Time flies when you’re killing bad guys. Did Jo-Jo say when the show was supposed to end?”
“Eleven, I think. Is there a program on the tables?”
As soon as I turned to look, a folded sheet of paper lifted off the nearest table and floated to me. Bemused, I plucked it out of the air.
“Eleven is right. Jo-Jo was supposed to be on at nine and again at ten thirty. But what are we going to do about the clocks and everyone’s watches?”
Saber eyed Cosmil. “How long will it take to teach Cesca to undo the enthrallment and get everyone functioning?”
“Fifteen minutes, perhaps twenty. I will change timepieces, if you like.”
“That’ll do. Let’s move. Cosmil, help me get Jo-Jo and Donita backstage. Cesca, grab the cuffs and sword, would you?”
“Nuh-uh. Allergic to silver, remember?”
Cosmil coughed. “I believe you will find your allergy is less severe if not entirely gone.”
“Is this a sucking Marco’s energy thing, too?”
Cosmil spread his hands and smiled. “You have assumed a new power, Princess.”
“I don’t want anything of Marco’s.”
“Cesca, if you can touch silver now, you can wear it. Think new options in jewelry, and deal. Cosmil, your help, please?”
New options in jewelry? Okay, that was a plus. Gold was outrageously expensive.
Still, I handled the sword and handcuffs gingerly. They gave my fingers only the slightest sting. Not so much a burn as a vibration. Not like the mermaid charm. Softer.
Pandora and I followed Saber and Cosmil as they led the apparently sleepwalking Donita and Jo-Jo into a dressing room. When they were seated, I frowned at Jo-Jo.
“Is Jo-Jo hurt or enthralled?”
“Neither. He was struggling to protect the woman, so I cast a sleep spell to calm him.”
“Marco didn’t notice?” Saber asked.
“Marco saw what he chose to see.”
Saber made a hurry-up gesture. “Time’s ticking. Now what?”
“First I’ll instruct the princess in waking Donita. She had some immunity to enthrallment, and is more terrorized.”
I brushed my fingers over Donita’s shoulder.
“Good. Your instincts are good. Now send your will that she awakens with no unpleasant memories of this night.”
“And no missing time?”
“Yes. I will awaken Jo-Jo as you release the woman, but I will not be here when they are conscious again. Meet me in the hall so we may unenthrall the others.”
Between Marco and the medallion incident, I should have been a wreck. Instead, I felt strong and secure. I could do this. Hell, I’d finally flown when it counted. This should be a relative snap.
Course, I could be back in denial land, too.
Cosmil nodded when he was ready, and I put all my focus into willing my intent into Donita. Maybe a half second ticked by, then both she and Jo-Jo awoke.
I expected Jo-Jo to remember Marco, but Pandora in her house cat form landed in his lap just as he came to.
“Ooof,” Jo-Jo said, then stiffened. “Who let this cat in?”
“We did.” I grinned at his horrified expression. Bless her, Pandora did know how to make an entrance.
“What a gorgeous feline you are,” Donita crooned, and Pandora abandoned Jo-Jo for her.
Saber cleared his throat. “We just wanted to say hello before you go on again.”
Jo-Jo frowned, confusion evident in his eyes. Was he remembering?
When he shrugged, I released a breath I hadn’t known I held.
“I wish you’d stay for the second show. I’d like to buy you a drink afterward. You know, for all your help.”
Saber clapped a hand on Jo-Jo’s shoulder. “Sorry, we have a long day tomorrow. But it’s been a hell of a memorable night.”
I snorted and left to find Cosmil.
Releasing a whole building of enthralled humans was a huge challenge, even with a wizard on the team. We had to include those people in the bathrooms, the storerooms, the office, even in the crannies where the techies were running the lights and sound show. Nerves fluttering like bat wings, I secluded myself in a shadowed corner. Cosmil stood behind me to provide an energy boost.
I raised my hands, palms toward the crowd, and broadcast my will with a vengeance. With a pop of electricity, activity in the room instantly resumed, and the noise level swelled. If Marco had hit the Pause button, I had pushed Play.
Pandora had stayed in the dressing room to distract Jo-Jo and Donita, so Saber and I walked into the humid night with Cosmil. A thousand questions pricked the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t know if I should ask even one.
“We will meet again,” Cosmil assured me as if he’d read my mind. Which he likely had. “I will send Pandora when I know you are ready.”
Ready for what? hovered on my tongue, but I knew. Ready to unite my powers with Triton’s. Humph. That’d be a cold day in every level of hell.
Cosmil chuckled. “No, it won’t.”
He turned south, away from downtown, and just as Pandora loped up to him, they both disappeared.
“Damn,” I breathed. “And I thought flying saved gas.”
The next two weeks passed at vampire speed.
Saber contacted Candy and Ray to relay that Marco and Laurel were exterminated. Ray heard a more edited version of events, I was sure. And, while I wasn’t present for either conference, I knew the VPA was closing down nests nationwide. The good news was that many vamps had the money and credit ratings to buy their own homes. The housing market boomed in some locations, and Ray reopened Hot Blooded.
When Maggie got home from Savannah, I caught her up on bits and pieces, but mostly we talked wedding plans. Oh, and I took her to see her dress. She cried happy tears for days.
I asked Saber about the apparent telepathy I’d experienced with him at the comedy club, but he acted like I’d taken another conk in the head with my surfboard. Since I didn’t hear his thoughts again, I chalked it up to an aberration brought on by stress. Yep, Dr. Phil has nothing on me.
Saber sold his condo and bought Neil’s house, closing on both the same day. Property deals must have been in the stars, because I filed the papers to claim my land from Triton’s trust and had the deed before the end of the month. I thought for sure Triton would contact me about the transfer, but he didn’t. I didn’t know whether to be ticked or hurt, but I was glad I’d buried the mermaid charm in my jewelry box drawer.
Jo-Jo called with news that The Court Jester was a go, and that pieces of the film would be shot in St. Augustine in October. He wanted me to be an extra, and I told him I’d think about it. Sure, it could be interesting, but my ghosts were more fun.
One disturbing event occurred ten days after the showdown at the Riot. I received a DVD in the mail with Kevin Miller’s return address on the package. The note inside read:
“Don’t need this footage for my project, and have destroyed the original. This is the sole copy to do with what you want.”
Good thing Saber was with me when I played the disk. Though I hadn’t seen them, Kevin, Leah, and Caro had been in the club the night of Jo-Jo’s show, and Kevin had set up a digital video recorder to run before he was enthralled. The camera had been aimed at the stage, and, though the picture was fuzzy, Kevin had inadvertently caught most of the confrontation between Marco and me. The DVR battery had died before the final scene played out, but seeing the video left me shivering for hours. Saber held me through the night to keep dreams at bay.
On the last Sunday of August, I decided to rip out the bushes and vines around the beach house. Saber was with Neil, watching the preseason football game he’d recorded on TiVo, but promised he’d join me later.
I took my surfboard with the idea that I’d reward myself for working, and after an hour, I’d cleared three sides of the bungalow. I also found a partial boardwalk to the beach, one with steps all but obliterated by sand. Since tramping over the dunes is a no-no, the hidden access meant the stretch of beach in front of my little shack was deserted. I had the ocean pretty much to myself, too.
I didn’t need more invitation than that. I unloaded my board from the car, changed into my new coral flowered bathing suit, and hit the surf.
After one bitchin’ ride after another, I paddled out farther to rest a few minutes before I caught the last wave of the day.
A splash on my left, and a dolphin leaped in a graceful arc, submerged, then swam directly at me. I tensed in case it bumped my board, but the dolphin dove under me and surfaced far on the other side. Then it swam lazily back, making clicks and whistles, and gently nudged my thigh with its beak.
Don’t recognize me anymore?
I jerked sideways so hard, I nearly fell off my board.
“Triton?”
No, Flipper.
I gave him the evil eye as he bobbed beside me. “Do not crack jokes with me. Not after what you pulled with that medallion thingie.”
It’s an amulet to be precise, and it had to be done. Marco was on the edge of being consumed by the Void.
“Then why didn’t you hit Marco with the amulet yourself? Why make me a party to killing—”
Banishing.
“Banishing then. You could’ve done it on your own.”
Triton shook his massive dolphin head. Remember what Pandora told you about uniting our powers?
“Yes, and I’m sick of hearing it.”
Francesca, whether you admit it or not, whether we like it or not, whether you want to or not, uniting our powers is part of our destiny.
“Yeah? Well, destiny can take a hike if you keep being stealthy and secretive. Straight answers, Triton. Straight answers, or you’ll be power tripping all over your flukes to get back in my good graces.”
Come see me.
“You mean like this? Vampire to dolphin, or should we stay dry and hook up telepathically?”
Check your Sunday paper. Then come see me.
With that, Triton arched and dove under the water. I waited for him to surface again, but when he did, he was twenty feet away. Damn it.
Double damn when I realized I’d drifted toward the shore, and that Saber stood on the dune waiting for me.
I threw myself flat on the board and paddled, catching one more wave on the way in, then carried my board up the beach to meet Saber.
At the top of the steps, he clasped my free hand.
“Was that Triton?” he asked as we walked toward the shack.
“Yeah, and he about scared me half to death. How did you know it was him?”
“Aside from the fact you don’t usually argue with dolphins, it’s the dark of the moon. You told me he only shifts then. Plus, I saw this in the paper today.”
He unfolded the business section and pointed.
I saw the headline “New in Town,” then read the few column inches aloud.
“‘Ocean Enchantments will specialize in shipwreck treasurers and kitschy maps purportedly drawn by mermaids. Owner Trey Delphinus.’” I met Saber’s gaze. “The mermaid on the treasure map charm.”
“Yeah.” Saber paused a beat. “You’re going to see him.”
It wasn’t a question.
“I have to if I want answers to my long list of questions about the Void and why he’s recruited me to fight the damn thing. I was hoping you’d go with me.”
“You think there will be sparks?”
I sighed and leaned my board against the shack.
“If you mean will I blow up at him, I just did, and, yeah, there’s a darn good chance I will again. If you mean romantic sparks, I can only tell you this: When I faced Marco, I wasn’t thinking about Triton rushing to help me. I was thinking about you.”
Saber cracked a grin. “Sure you don’t love me just for my big gun?”
“I love you,” I said as I went on tiptoe to steal a kiss, “because you love me. Fangs and all.”
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PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley trade paperback edition / May 2009
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Haddock, Nancy.
Last vampire standing / Nancy Haddock.—Berkley trade pbk. ed.
p. cm.
eISBN : 978-1-101-04748-4
1. Vampires—Fiction. 2. Saint Augustine (Fla.)—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3608.A275L37 2009
813’.6—dc22 2008047391
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