Kismet Knight, Vampire Psychologist 3 - Dark Harvest (24 page)

He must have noticed my shivering, because he gave me a surprised look. “Once again, I have been a poor host. Since temperatures don’t affect me, I had totally forgotten you might find this room a bit
brisk
for your tastes.” He grinned. “I can rectify that.”

Pulling me along behind him, he traversed the room, holding his flame aloft. He paused every couple of feet, ignited the wicks of row after row of tall candles, until the entire space was ablaze with light.

“The witch told my
lýtle
to provide lots of candles, and my slave is nothing if not obedient. We might as well ignite them. I do want you to enjoy your last few hours in Denver.”

The suddenly visible walls of the subterranean den of iniquity were filled with huge paintings depicting various sex acts. Hallow pointed to one in particular and chuckled. “That one should give you a glimpse of your future.”

The scene he’d indicated was of a woman on her knees in front of an abnormally well-endowed male who held her hair clasped tight in one hand while he forced the obscenely large organ into her mouth with his other.

I gagged in sympathy, cringing as Hallow slid his hand up my arm.

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Taking advantage of his relaxed grip, I jerked my arm away. “You’ll never force me to do that. I’d rather die.”

He laughed as he reclaimed his grasp. “Force you? To the contrary, my dear doctor. You’ll beg me.”

I shuddered in trepidation, fear crawling up my spine, as Lust danced a celebration boogie in our shared inner sanctum.

“All the comforts of home,” Hallow said as he propelled me toward a fireplace carved into the back wall. He bent over, touched his candle to a clump of newspapers in the hearth, and the fire caught.

Black smoke billowed into the room before it was sucked away. I coughed. The fireplace must have a chimney leading up to the fresh air. I hadn’t noticed if the room we’d landed in earlier had a fireplace, but there had to be one on the topmost floor. Hope momentarily glimmered. Wouldn’t someone notice smoke coming from this supposedly empty place?

My optimism died as I remembered all the businesses above us. Nobody would have cause to think anything about smoke coming from a stray chimney. What was unusual about that? Many of the buildings in this area had been made into lofts, purchased by uninvolved trust-funders or Internet millionaires. Not the kind of residents who devoted a lot of time to pondering the goings-on of the neighborhood.

Hallow dragged me back to the circle and gave me a shove, causing me to fall onto Victoria’s cold, still form. I quickly rolled away from her, not wanting to make her any more uncomfortable or cause any more pain than she’d already endured. The monster gazed at me with his hypnotic, silver eyes. I tried not to meet them.

“Are you as excited as I am?” He cocked his head and adopted a serious expression, as if he thought I’d actually answer his ridiculous question. “I have one last task to complete and then your new life will begin. Since your friends don’t seem to be brilliant conversationalists tonight, you can spend the next little while contemplating how you can be of greater service to me.” He leaned forward, his dark veil of hair swinging down in front of him, and gave a maniacal grin. “Think hard, now. There’ll be a quiz later.

“Oh, by the way, you can stop trying to contact Devereux telepathically. The witch’s marvelous magic stops everything, including communication.” He gave an exaggerated frown. “This just isn’t your day, is it?”

Ear-splitting laughter burst from his throat before he vanished, the sound echoing after he was gone.

I’d already figured out the futility of trying to contact Devereux, but that didn’t matter. It wouldn’t stop me from flinging message-filled bottles out into the cosmic sea.

Searching for escape routes, I noticed the entrance to the staircase was only a few feet away. Either the fiend was absolutely confident I wouldn’t try to leave, or he’d arranged it so I couldn’t. Only one way to find out. I jumped up, climbed the stairs two at a time, and smashed into a cushion of solid air at the top.

Or the outer layer of the invisible beach ball I’d been trapped inside. That’s how it felt.

I slid my hands along the oddly pliable, magical force field protecting the upstairs room. It gave when I pushed on it, but wouldn’t allow me to move forward. This must be what Hallow meant when he said he’d compelled Victoria to use her abilities to seal the area. But, of course, the maniac could pop in and out at will. Too bad I couldn’t …

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“Hey!” I yelled down to unconscious Victoria. “What if he forgot he gave me a ticket for Air Vampire?”

Was I still able to transport myself? I quickly retraced my steps and moved toward the circle, visualizing the interior of Devereux’s penthouse, then froze. Wait. It couldn’t be that easy. Hallow was insane but not stupid. What if I was able to blink out, but smashed into the plastic beach ball again? Only this time at the speed of light? Would I be pulverized into unrecognizable atoms?

How could I help Victoria or Tom—or anyone—if I was dead? But then I looked at one friend, then the other, and I realized it was a no-brainer. I simply had to try.

I closed my eyes, picturing Devereux’s dining room. I recalled the wonderful breakfast buffet his helpers had prepared for me a couple of mornings ago, and sighed at the pleasant memory. I imagined the aroma of the coffee, the taste of the fresh baked goods, the sweetness of the strawberries, melons, and grapes, and waited for the familiar sensation of free fall.

Nothing happened.

I filled in even more details and tried again.

Nothing.

Imagining myself in my own townhouse had the same result.

Damn.

My flight had been cancelled.

I plopped down next to Victoria, laid a hand on her cold arm, and worked to clear my mind. I couldn’t allow myself to be overcome by fear.

Suddenly Victoria groaned and pulled against her restraints. I gasped. Pain knifed through my body—her pain—as sharp as if it were my own. Since we had similar psychic abilities, proximity made the sensory connection between us even deeper than it usually was.

“Victoria?” I scooted close, angling my head near her mouth, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the torture Hallow had inflicted upon her. I had to take a few deep breaths to remind myself I could distance emotionally. That I wouldn’t be any help to her if I became further enmeshed in her misery. Almost like a physical act, I mentally pushed myself back from the waves of pain. It took all my control not to cry.

She groaned again and her eyelids fluttered, then slowly opened. Her beautiful peridot eyes were bloodshot, the pupils dilated. “He’s not”—the tip of her tongue struggled to moisten her lower lip—“what you think,” she whispered.

“What do you mean? Who’s not?”

She coughed, wincing with pain.

Shit. She was in bad shape.

I raised my head, scanning the area for anything helpful—water, blankets—but I didn’t really expect to find them. Unless they were accustomed to spending time with humans—live humans—the undead rarely took our needs into consideration. Especially if the bloodsucker in question viewed humans as fast food.

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Victoria kept trying to speak, even though it apparently took a lot out of her.

“Hold on a minute, Vic. Let me see if by some miracle I can find some old tapestry or something to cover you with. You’ve got to be freezing.”

I sprang to my feet and rushed through the tall candles, widening my search until I reached the edges of the room. Along the far wall I discovered a bounty of old couches, chairs, and tables, which had been clumped together, with a few heavy rugs of varying sizes thrown on top.

“Yes! I found a couple of small rugs, Victoria. They’re filthy, but they’ll keep out some of the draft.”

I’d just turned with the rugs to retrace my steps when my eye caught a modern-looking cup sitting on one of the tables. I lifted the half-f cup. Starbucks coffee. Why would Hallow have a half-empty cup of trendy java? I’d never heard of a vampire ingesting anything but fresh blood. I sniffed the contents. It smelled like strong, black coffee. I tipped the container so the light would shine on the surface to make sure there was nothing floating there. People often used cups for ashtrays. It seemed to be cigarette-butt-free. I finally took a tiny sip. It really was cold coffee.

No telling how long the bitter liquid had been sitting there, but it would be better for Victoria than nothing. While shifting the two rugs I’d wedged under my arm, I managed to drop one. I bent over to pick it up, and my fingers slicked over something smooth and cold. Gathering the flexible material, I held it up in the light. A leather jacket. It seemed too small to be Hallow’s, but it didn’t matter who it belonged to. It was now Victoria’s.

I crushed the rugs and the jacket to my chest, tightened my grip on the coffee cup, and hurried back to the circle. I set the cup out of the way, situated the leather across Victoria’s chest, then spread the rugs over her. Retrieving the cup, I slid my arm under Victoria’s neck and lifted gently. “I know this probably is going to taste horrible. You’re not much of a coffee fan as it is. But it’s wet and, judging by the lack of stains inside the cup, it hasn’t been sitting here very long.” She nodded and parted her lips to accept the offering.

I could still sense her anguish like a background hum.

She swallowed a few times, then cleared her throat. “You have to resist him. He can only take you if you offer yourself freely. It’s all a lie.” She tried to lift her head, but the effort was obviously painful because she gasped and closed her eyes.

I hovered, worried. “Victoria? Please don’t close your eyes. I’m afraid you won’t open them again if you do.”

She nodded, slowly opened her lids, and gave a weak smile. Her voice was thin and hoarse. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to let any bloodsucking asshole take me out.” Her expression grew serious.

“Remember what I said. He’s cursed. Not what you think. Don’t choose him.”

Choose him? Why would she even suggest such a thing? It was clear that Hallow had given her something to cause her pupils to dilate and make her say such strange things. “I promise I won’t choose him. You never need to worry about that. I know he’s a monster.” I studied her eyes. “He gave you a drug, didn’t he? That’s why you’re so lethargic.”

“No.” She coughed and shook her head. “He’s a drug. His bite …” She went still except for her eyes,
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which tracked back and forth. “He’s coming.”

“How do you know?” I whispered, scanning for any signs of the crazed vampire.

“My body knows. It craves him. It can feel him approaching. Hide the cup. I’ll pretend to be asleep.”

I grabbed the cup, hurried to the nearest piece of furniture against the wall, and thrust the Starbucks container behind it. Returning to her, I collapsed onto my knees by her side, whispering frantically, “Can you release the magic spell you created? Is there something I can do to help?”

Almost immediately, I was startled by Hallow’s mesmerizing voice and leapt to my feet. “Well, what have we here? Pretend to be asleep, will she?” He materialized nearby, clutching a semi-conscious Luna under his arm. “Tsk-tsk, my dear doctor. I see you’ve misbehaved. Didn’t I tell you to leave the witch uncovered?” He barked out a laugh. “As if the rugs will warm her while she lies on the equivalent of a block of ice.”

I gazed down at Victoria, her eyes were huge, lips parted.

Hallow dropped Luna, who fell to the ground with a loud thunk. He squatted next to Victoria, stared into her eyes, and she lost consciousness, her head flopping sideways.

“We can’t have her screaming again. I’d hate to lose control of myself and kill her before I make full use of her.”

He stood effortlessly, and turned to me.

“I brought you some company.” He pointed at Luna. “Letting her watch the finale is the least I can do, after all her decades of service.” Luna roused enough to wrap her arms around Hallow’s ankles, whining,

“Master, please! You need me.”

He glared down at her, shaking his head. “I haven’t had a slave who was worth a shit in centuries.”

Leaning down, he lifted Luna by her shirt and flung her across the room. She landed near Tom’s bed, no longer whining.

He cast a glance back over his shoulder. “Oh, yes. Speaking of slaves. I have a surprise for you.”

He stepped aside and laughed, sending chills down my spine. He sailed his arm through the air in a wide arc, pointing to the person I hadn’t noticed waiting behind him.

Maxie.

I gasped, pressing my hand against my wildly pounding heart. “Maxie? Jesus, Maxie, no.” My brain spun, unable to comprehend that the maniac had kidnapped yet another of my friends. Another mortal he could drain. Dark circles underscored lifeless eyes in her pale, blank face. She stood silent, her
fuck you
T-shirt half-untucked from her jeans, her shoes missing, her white hair loose and tangled.

“What have you done to her?” I asked Hallow as he leaned in to study the expression on my face.

“There was no reason for you to capture anyone else. You’ve already got me.” He seemed overly interested in my reaction to his newest insult. I inched toward Maxie, wanting to touch her—to let her know she wasn’t alone—but Hallow stepped in front of me.

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“No. Not yet. Let me get comfortable first.”

Let you get comfortable? Comfortable for what?

Chuckling, Hallow jumped over Victoria, fetched a chair from against the wall, and placed it where he could see both Maxie and me. He sat, sending up a cloud of dust.