Always the Vampire (14 page)

“Do you want to come out?”

She shook her head and shrank away.

“Okay, but why are you here?”

“There is little time, but I have come to warn you,” she whispered.

Oh, great. Another warning. Like I didn’t have enough on my plate. Still, I nodded.

“Go on.”

“Something is awakening the king and his court. Something evil. Something with a darker soul than even Marco.”

My breath hitched. Finding a darker soul than Marco’s would be a trick. He was the psychopath who’d courted me when he was human. When I rejected him, he voluntarily joined the vampires, rose to become Normand’s right-hand vamp, and then captured me so I could be Turned. Marco had counted on pairing up with me, but Normand wasn’t a vampire to be manipulated. He’d nixed Marco’s plan.

Did Isabella know Marco was dead?

Didn’t matter. The evil she spoke of had to be Starrack and the Void, but awakening the ghosts of vampires?

“What does the evil want with the king and his cronies?”

Isabella’s nearly solid shoulders lifted in a shrug. “The evil creates chaos. Fear. Vampires excel at both. This is all I know.”

“All right, but I’ve never felt their spirits on this property. Or yours, either, Isabella. Not even when I was still buried under the ruins.”

“After the massacre and fire, the vampires were dismembered and their pieces scattered. We humans, our remains were thrown into the river.”

“I’m sorry you were treated with disrespect.”

“It was not your fault, Francesca.” Isabella said, stepping closer to the door, her voice gaining strength. “You might have known the villagers were coming, but telling Normand would not have made a difference.”

I flushed with old guilt. “How did you guess I knew about the plot?”

“I saw the weight of knowledge in your eyes, my friend, but we were ready to die. We were at peace away from the monsters, even those of us who did not immediately cross over. The vampires, I do not know what happened to their wretched souls, if they possessed souls at all.”

“So you’re saying this evil is calling Normand and his crew back from wherever they went?”

Isabella nodded.

“Are they coming to this property?”

“Oh, no. This ground has been reconsecrated. They cannot come here.”

I gaped at her. “A parish priest blessed the land?”

“No, the holy man. The one with the great panther at his side.”

I inhaled so hard the room spun. Cosmil had been on Maggie’s property? When? And why hadn’t he released me from the coffin? He had to have known I was buried right under his twitchy wizard nose.

“Francesca, you are woolgathering when I must leave.”

I blinked at the ghost’s fast-fading form.

“Sorry, Isabella. Thank you for the warning.” I paused, caught by the sad smile she flashed. “Um, do you want out of the closet now?”

“I have used much energy, so yes, if you would be so kind.”

Three steps brought me to the closet. When I twisted the knob, a wisp of white streamed into the bedroom, just like a Hollywood special effect. Isabella’s essence floated to the living room, leisurely enough that I could follow, then when I opened the front door, Isabella’s thin trail of white shot toward her burial place. The Matanzas River.

The River of Slaughter.

 

 

Dark clouds had gathered. I’m not sure when that happened. After Isabella’s shade left, I wasn’t aware of much at all—except the questions chasing through my brain.

Then a crack of thunder rattled the cottage, echoing as it rolled out to sea. I shook off my mental fog to find myself propped on the sofa, Snowball curled sleeping on my lap.

It figured the cat would nap while I worried, but what freaked me was that I didn’t recall letting her out of the bathroom. Talk about being zoned out.

I needed to tell Saber about Isabella’s revelations. I needed to confront Cosmil about leaving me buried in that stinking coffin.

I needed to know what the hell time it was.

Snowball barely twitched as I eased her from my lap and rose to check the digital clock on the kitchen stove. Eight forty. Damn, I’d spent more than two hours lost in thought. That wasn’t like me.

In fact, it wasn’t like me to be so lethargic that I’d wanted a nap, either.

A rash of goose bumps climbed up my arms.

Was the Void beginning to infect me?

No. No, no, no. Think positive, I commanded my brain.
You’re perfectly hale and hearty. Your vitality meter is off the charts. You’re the Energizer Bunny with fangs. Now move it.

I scooped up the cell phone, flipped it open as I marched to the laundry room, and punched Saber’s number. One ring, and I moved my clothes to the dryer. Two rings, and I added softener sheet. Three rings. I let the machine lid slam shut and paced into the living room.

Saber answered on the fifth ring.

“Cesca,” he shouted. “You’ll have to talk loud. We have a hell of a storm going on out here.”

“Are you at Cosmil’s?” I yelled loudly enough to hurt my own ears. Clearly, this was not the time to tell him about Isabella.

“Yeah, and downed trees are blocking my SUV.”

“Are you all right? Do you need me to come get you?”

“We’re fine, and I don’t need a ride, but I do need a favor.” He paused a beat. “You still there?”

“I hear you.”

“Listen, Triton was supposed to be here hours ago. I can’t reach him on the phone, and Cosmil is worried.”

“He’s probably just resting before he shifts tonight. Or there may be broken limbs blocking his streets.”

“Is it storming there?”

I peered out the window. “Not now. It’s moved off shore.”

“You’re likely right about Triton resting, but will you go check on him anyway? Give Cosmil some peace of mind?”

I’d rather give the wizard a piece of
my
mind, but in the spirit of staying positive, I agreed.

“I’ll call you when I get to his place.” No response. “Saber?” I hollered.

The line was dead.

Peachy.

Not feeling quite the urgency Cosmil did, I took the time to rewrap my ponytail and then changed from my shorts outfit and sandals into a pair of cutoffs, a Florida Gators T-shirt, and sneakers. No socks. Maybe I’d head to the beach myself. Meditate on health affirmations while I listen to the ocean. Heck, maybe I’d stick around until sunrise and surf. I kept an extra bathing suit in my truck. If the storm still sat off shore, the waves might be worth catching.

I grabbed a beach towel, stuck my phone in my pocket with my driver’s license, and then wrestled my board out of the laundry room. The amulet still on the kitchen table winked in the light, so I snagged it, too. I locked the cottage but didn’t set the alarms. I remembered Neil’s warning about arming them if Saber and I would be coming and going half the night.

It was tricky to load my board in the SSR with any stealth, but I managed. Within ten minutes of talking with Saber, I cruised out of my neighborhood and down San Marcos, past the bay front and over the Bridge of Lions. I sang along to my favorite CD because it revved me and because, really, who can be stressed or scared when the Beach Boys are blasting through the speakers? I even had the bushy-bushy hairdo the lyrics touted. Brown, not blond, but still.

Triton’s place was soon in my sights. Faint light shone from the shop, but his apartment upstairs was dark. Great. He’d either run late getting to Cosmil’s, or he’d already left for the beach to shift. Back in the days that I’d gone with him, he’d insisted on being near the ocean between nine and midnight, no matter what the true astronomical time of the new moon.

It was just nine now.

Of course, Triton might be sleeping, in which case I’d bang on his door and chew him out.

I drove past his store and turned on the road that took me by the lighthouse. A few turns on backstreets would take me to the one that ran behind his property. I’d park in the drive, knock on the door, maybe peek in a window. Then I’d call Saber back with a clear conscience.

I maneuvered around two lights-flashing cop cars at the end of Triton’s block and crept on down the narrow road littered with storm debris. A few sizeable limbs were down, but only twigs and leaves covered Triton’s driveway. Nothing to scratch up my SSR.

As I exited the truck, the wind rose, caught my ponytail, and lashed strands across my face. Interesting. The air crackled with a different energy here than at home, and the scent of rain was heavier. Old storm going or new one coming? I looked up to search the sky, and a fat drop of water plopped dead center on my forehead.

I swiped it away and stomped up the stairs to Triton’s door. More twigs and leaves carpeted the deck, and what looked like muddy footprints clumped around the apartment’s entrance.

I sidestepped the mud and briskly knocked.

And the door flew open under my knuckles.

Nothing reached to jerk me inside, but my every muscle clenched in dread as soon as I smelled the stench of blood.

“Triton?” I whispered.

No answer.

“Triton?” I spoke louder to push the fear from my voice.

It didn’t work, but I gingerly crossed the threshold anyway. Between the streetlight filtering in the room from behind me and my trusty vampire vision, I took in the destruction.

Lamps broken. Couch cushions askew. Books and knickknacks scattered helter-skelter on the carpeted floor. Beyond that, a kitchen area that was similarly trashed. Guilt that I hadn’t hurried more threatened to flood me, but it didn’t look like five minutes would’ve made a difference. I didn’t have time for regrets anyway. I had to find Triton.

Then I spotted two legs sticking out from behind an armchair.

Crap and triple crap.

In a blink, I stared at Triton where he lay sprawled face up, one shoulder against the wall as if he’d slid down it. Blood oozed from a gash on his forehead and from his nose, and his lower lip looked split in the corner. Dark stains smeared his light-colored shirt and shorts, and one of his sneakers was untied.

“Triton,” I said as I shook his shoulder.

His eyelids fluttered open. “Cesca?”

“Who else? What the hell happened?”

“Bounced myself off the walls.”

“With help from what army? Here, let me help you up.”

I held out my hand. He grasped my forearm instead, grunting and gasping until I had him on his feet.

“Can’t go to the hospital, Cesca,” he panted as I tugged his arm over my shoulder to help him to the armchair. “Have to shift soon.”

“Duh. Where’s your first aid kit?”

“Heal when I shift. Don’t need first aid.”

“Yes, you damn well do,” I snapped, and released his weight.

He fell into the chair with a tortured, “Ugh, you had to drop me? Might have internal injuries.”

“I’ll drop-kick you around the block if you don’t listen. You can’t drive in this condition. You can’t be seen outside bleeding like you are, or some Good Samaritan may call the police. Two cop cars are down the street right now.”

“Heard the sirens. So did my workout buddies.”

“That’s what made them leave?”

He gave me a weak nod.

I didn’t ask if they might come back. “What did they want?”

“The amulets. Told them all I had were some nice doubloon medallions. In the shop. They started ripping up my stuff.”

“And then pounded on you?”

“Pounding came first. Said the boss got what he wanted.”

“These were humans?”

“Two crazy, mean mortals.”

“How would a mortal know about the amulets, and why would one care about having them?”

“Think these guys worked for Starrack.”

“Did they stink like the Void?”

“Maybe. Don’t remember. Busy dodging fists.” He paused, panted for breath. “What time is it?”

“A little after nine.”

“Got to get to the beach. My skin is itching with the change.”

“Then stop stalling and tell me where to find your freakin’ first aid kit.”

“Bathroom,” he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

As I hurried to the doorway, it crossed my mind that the amulet might aid in healing Triton. Then I dismissed the thought. I didn’t know how to use the darn thing for such a delicate operation.

In the short hall, I instinctively turned left. Yep, there was a decentsized bath in the same chaotic shape as the rest of the place. The first aid kit, however, was in plain sight on the floor. I snagged it then grabbed a few towels that had been dumped in the bathtub. After soaking a face towel in hot water, I hustled back to Triton. What I didn’t do was turn on the lights. If Triton’s attackers were hanging around to have another go at him, no point in making us better targets.

“Here, hold the box while I wash your cuts.”