“You said you’ve been dating him?”
“Yes, but I think he merely used me. He wanted his journal back.” she whispered.
“His journal? I thought you said the journal belonged to a woman?” Jack was confused now.
“It did. To Lillian, but it was in Ewan’s jacket the night my parents died. That’s how I came to own it.” she explained.
“His jacket?” Jack tried to understand.
“He placed his jacket over my shoulders before he left me there that night. I found the journal within the lining later.”
“And you kept it?” Jack inquired. “You were only seven.”
“Yes, and I couldn’t read it, not really, not yet. I kept it until I was older. I hid it away where no one would ever find it. Then when I was fourteen, I took it out, and I read it. In the journal, Lillian spoke of Ewan, and what he
had done to her. She spoke of-” She paused, her gaze coming to meet his in uncertainty.
“Of?”
“Vampires.” she stated plainly. “Ewan was a vampire, and so was she.”
“Jesus Christ! That’s where you get all this vampire nonsense from? A journal, a story someone wrote?” Jack exclaimed before he could stop himself. It was unbelievable, but he supposed that peoples’ imaginations could play some pretty hefty tricks on them. He had just never thought a woman as intelligent as Dr. Harold would ever succumb to such fantasy!
“It’s not nonsense, Jack.” Dr. Harold protested angrily. “The journal was dated 1842. Lord Ewan Derringer died in 1863. That has to be more than a coincidence, and so does the fact that this man, this vampire, shows back up in my life now, and then while I was sleeping last night,” she stopped suddenly as if she didn’t want to divulge anymore information.
“What?” Jack was losing his patience. He wanted to help the poor woman, but she obviously didn’t want his help.
“He took the journal. He stole it. I haven’t heard from him since. Then that raged massacre happens on the same night he takes the journal? Don’t you see? He was upset.”
“Upset? Why?” Jack leaned forward angrily.
“Because he was in love with her.” Dr. Harold stated whimsically. “He had used his power on her once before, made her believe she had fallen in love with him, but then he hurt her terribly, and she saw him for what he truly was. The spell was broken, and she despised him. He knows that he will never have her again, not like he once had. The journal reminded him of all that he had lost, and that is why he lost it last night, why he slaughtered those poor people.” Dr. Harold finished glumly.
Jack shook his head in disbelief. The woman was truly a whacko! Standing, he prepared to leave. “Can I call anyone for you?” He asked, trying to be a gentleman even though she had pulled him out of bed with a beautiful woman for this shit!
“Check it out, Jack!” Dr. Harold rose swiftly, and she shoved the paper into his hands. Jack frowned down at the impossible woman. “Please.” she pleaded, and then she turned to walk away from him. Groaning, Jack gripped her elbow.
“Let me give you a lift home.” he suggested, but she shook her head.
“I’m not going home.” she replied, and she pulled away from him just as a cab pulled up outside. Jack could only assume that it was for her.
“Be careful out there.” Jack warned in concern, and she frowned up at him.
“You should too, Jack.” she said as if knowing something that he didn’t, and then she hurried out to the awaiting cab, and climbed within. Jack watched until the cab was out of sight. He turned to pay his bill before realizing that they hadn’t ordered anything. He nodded to the teenage boy that was still standing, watching him intently, and then Jack turned to go out the door. He looked to the car to see Lilly was still seated within. He exhaled in relief, and turned to go to her when a hard shoulder caught him in the arm. Jack cursed as he heard something hit the ground. Looking down he saw a man bending over to retrieve the wallet he had dropped. Dr. Harold’s papers had fallen to the ground as well. Jack frowned as the man in the dark trench coat retrieved those as well, and handed them back to Jack. Sharp green eyes lifted to meet Jack’s gaze, and an apologetic smile lit the man’s pale face. “Forgive me.” he said in a quick, English accent. “I should have been watching where I was going.”
“It’s fine. No damage.” Jack said, watching his car.
“Do I know you?” The man questioned as if he did indeed recognize Jack. Jack turned back to the young man, barely glancing him over. He did look familiar, but no, Jack decided.
“Sorry. Don’t know you.” he replied. “Have a good night.”
“Yeah, you too.” The man returned, and he walked off down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. Jack climbed back behind the wheel of his car. He set the papers Dr. Harold had given him in the seat between Lilly and himself.
“Are you all right, Jack? You look a little shaken up.” Lilly commented, just as Jack realized exactly where he k
new the stranger that had just bumped into him from.
“Son of a bitch!” he growled, and he climbed back out of the car, and stood. His foot was still inside the car as he turned in search of the man who had just been there not three seconds ago, but was now nowhere in sight.
“What is it?” Lilly cried out from the car. Jack climbed back inside. He hit the steering wheel hard. It couldn’t be! It wasn’t possible!
“Jack?” Lilly called worriedly, and when he turned to her, he found her staring at the photograph on the printed paper Dr. Harold had given him. “What is this?” she asked with an edge in her voice.
“I’m thinking I may have just seen a ghost.” Jack muttered, and he started the car, and spun out, going after the man in question. He drove in speed and urgency, searching the streets up and down with no luck.
“You think you saw this man?” Lilly inquired when Jack at last stopped the car. His white knuckles tightened on the steering wheel in agitation. The man had been playing him! He had known exactly who Jack was, or perhaps, he had been following Dr. Harold, and had been curious to who Jack was? Damn it! He would have to warn Dr. Harold now.
“Damn it! She came to me tonight! She told me that she knew him, but I didn’t believe her.” Jack cursed beneath his breath.
“Him? Jack what’s going on?” Lilly’s voice sounded worried, desperate. Jack turned to her.
“I don’t know.” he shook his head in regret. “Lilly, Hun, I’m going to have to take you home now. I have to check something out.” he thought suddenly.
“Don’t.” She delivered the plea on a shaken whisper, and Jack turned to her. “Don’t go after him, Jack. You know what he is capable of.” She reminded.
“I won’t go alone.” he promised, but she still looked scared. Jack took her hands in his, and squeezed. “I’ll pick up Bordello after I drop you off. Look, Hun, I doubt we’ll even find this guy tonight.” he said, trying to make her feel better.
“Jack, I have to tell you something. I-” she began, but he cut her off quickly by squeezing her
hand, and then tucking her chin and kissing her swiftly.
“I’m sorry, baby, but it’s going to have to wait. I have to figure this out tonight. I’m closer than I’ve ever been. Please, don’t be
mad.” he caressed her cheek lovingly. She closed her eyes.
“Al
right. Take me home, Jack, but promise me you will be careful.” her sweet, English accent was more potent in her worry. Jack smiled. He kissed her sweet lips, and he nodded firmly.
“I’ll be careful.” he promised, and she turned, staring out her window. Jack exhaled. He hated to worry her, but he couldn’t help that. He was a cop, a homicide detective. This is what he did, went after the bad guys, and now, now, well hell, he didn’t know what exactly was going on! He just knew that Dr. Harold in her insane theories may have discovered something factual. No, not a vampire, but perhaps some kind of cover-up. That man, the one that was messing with her mind, claiming to be a man who had died in 1863, he could very well
be their man! Ewan Derringer. I know your name now, you sorry sack of shit. I know your name!
Chapter
thirty-two
Ewan stood on the rooftop above the street Sloan Jackson had just driven away from. To think, if he not followed Dr. Harold tonight then he never would have known how close he was! Sloan Jackson, the sniveling little mortal who had tried in vain to save Lillian in the past was alive and breathing, and right there in New York City. Ewan didn’t know how it had happened, but the man looked and spoke identical to Sloan Jackson. Hell, he even acted like the cocky son of a bitch! Ewan had followed the good doctor in hopes of getting the woman alone and finishing what he had started with her twenty-two years ago! He had not been able to do away with the disappointing mortal within the confines of her apartment. No, there had been too many witnesses that had seen him enter her apartment that night. Even he couldn’t be that bold. Ewan crouched down low, and drawing in a breath that he did not need, he took in the scent of the good detective. Yes, he had seen the badge inside the man‘s jacket. It appeared the little hero was going by a different name these days. Ewan thought it over. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the name on the badge, he thought in agitation, but how hard would that be to figure out?
“I got you now, Jackson.” he said lowly, and closing his eyes he savored the precious scent. The good doctor was proving to be of a bit of
worth after all. Not only had the breeder provided him with what he had been devastated to find himself without twenty-two years ago, Lillian’s journal, she had also brought him face to face with someone he had never thought to see again. The prick! How dare the man show up alive now! How many times was he going to have to kill this particular mortal?
“What are our plans now, Ewan?” Martin stepped to the ledge, and put one boot up on it, peering down at the poorly lit street below.
“Gerald is in pursuit?” Ewan’s dark brow rose curiously. Gerald was fast, faster than any vampire that Ewan had ever known. The vampire moved in a blur of darkness, and even to Ewan’s vampire eyes it appeared as if the man disappeared from view, becoming one with the dark shadows that were a part of the deepest, darkest of nights.
“He won’t disappoint you.” Martin said firmly. Ewan stood to his tall height. “You are sure this mortal is the same one?”
“Positive.” Ewan turned, his green eyes burning into his would-be friend.
“And Lillian?”
“What of her?” Ewan asked between clenched teeth.
“Perhaps, she is the other.” Martin put to him. Ewan grinned at the thought. It had been so long, so very, very long.
“The kills do fit her description, don’t they? Good, decent Lillian. She always tries so hard to do the right thing. Never takes from the innocent.” Ewan mocked, and Martin chuckled in amusement.
“It could be another do-gooder.” Martin warned after a moment. “Gina perhaps?”
“Perhaps.” Ewan agreed. “But Gina will know where I can find Lillian. Now, won’t she?” Ewan walked steadily to the opposite ledge, and without pausing he allowed himself to drop straight down. When his booted feet touched down on the hard asphalt below, he looked sharply to his left to watch as Martin cascaded down as if floating on air, and hovered two feet off the black asphalt. “Stop showing off! We’ve got work to do.” Ewan growled impatiently, and he walked away with thoughts and plans forming in his head. This was going to be one hell of an adventure, he thought lustfully, and he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
Lillian ran inside her home as if the devil, himself, was on her tail after Jack had driven away earlier that night. In a blur she whirled through the parlor, the living room, and down the dark steps into her basement, where she proceeded to rip off her clothes, and search for a new set.
“Lillian?”
Troy’s voice came from above, but she paid him no heed as she slipped into a sleek black top, blank pants that fit her like a second skin, and jerked on a pair of black boots that were good for running, good for climbing as well. The black slicker came on next as she was heading back up the stairs.
“Josh is still following Jack?” she asked urgently as she swept past
Troy on the stairs. Troy had to grab a hold of the railing to keep from falling as a gush of wind nearly knocked him over.
“The last I heard. Why? What is going on? Lillian!”
Troy shouted out after her as she ran back toward the living room.
“Call him. Call Josh. I want to kno
w where Jack is at right now!” Lillian all but shouted at the young man. Troy looked at her as if she had lost it, but still he took the cell phone from his jeans pocket and dialed Josh’s number.
“He’s driving, just left here, Lillian.” he said, not hanging up just yet. “Is there something I should let Josh know?” a dark brow rose inquisitively. Lillian paced in long, frantic strides. Hearing a swiftly beating heart, she looked up, and saw Reginald entering the room.
“What is it, My Lady?” Reginald cried out after meeting her wide eyes.