Corin & Angelique (After the Fall of Night) (11 page)

“I understand your anger, Tomes, but look at you. You’re in no shape for a
fight. Besides, even if I’m lucky enough to find the nightwalker’s hideout tonight, I still need to learn more about him before initiating any sort of altercation. There’s something unsettling about this one, something I’ve never come across before. I’m not going to make any rash moves, not without more details on what it is I’m facing.”

“He’s a killer! W-what more do you need to know?” Tomes shouted, his voice
full of hostility. The outburst drawing back the attention of the old drunk and the bartender.

“I need to know how powerful he is.” Corin leaned in close. “
Let me make this clear. You are not coming with me tonight.”

Frustrated, Tomes knocked over several glasses.

“Sober up and go home. The best thing you can do right now is stay close to your sister. I’ve tried to impress upon her that it isn’t safe to go out alone, but it would help to hear it seconded by her brother.”

“I want you to keep your distance when it comes to Angel,” Tomes huffed and
slammed his palm down on the table, rattling the glasses.

“Is there a problem?” The bartender didn’t look pleased.

“Everything’s under control,” Corin assured the man who kept a safe distance.

Tomes leaned toward Corin in an aggressive manner. “I thought I made things
c-clear to you before. You keep away from her. I will not have her p-pursued by a—”

“Monster,” Corin finished. “You’re lucky I
understand your protectiveness.”

“She d-deserves the best life has to offer. And you aren’t even human.”

Tomes took in several deep breaths. “I don’t want her exposed to that sort of madness. She doesn’t even know your kind exists outside of tales and f-folk—lore.”

“
On this we agree, Tomes.” Corin got up and pushed his chair in, saying nothing more on the matter. “Now, have some coffee and sober up before you head home. I’ll touch base with you later.”

Corin paid the bartender
on his way out, with a little extra for the tension he and Tomes had caused. Exiting the bar, he bit his bottom lip so hard it bled, something he had to do when dealing with Tomes Jaffler.

“For Angelique,” he reminded himself, just as he had every other time Tomes
got under his skin. The man needed a serious attitude adjustment, but Corin understood the fire driving him.

Cursing to himself, he
hated admitting that somewhere along the line he’d started to develop a genuine fondness for the confounded man.

* * * *

Angelique wrote a note to Tomes and left it on the kitchen table.

Tomes,

I made you an appointment for tomorrow morning, 9:00 a.m.
, here, at the farm. Client’s name is Louis Gomez. He’s looking to renovate.

Angel

She recalled meeting
Mr. Gomez earlier that evening at the local grocery store, having literally run into him while strolling down isle three, veering, by accident, into his oncoming cart. To make matters worse, his cart then hit a display of jarred gravy, knocking it over and creating quite an embarrassing scene.

“I am so sorry,” Angelique apologized, completely humiliated. “I should have
been paying better attention…stupid of me.”

“Don’t worry about it. Accidents happen.” The man
, very polite, spoke with a scintillating accent.

They both laughed, trying to reposition the jars in a somewhat orderly display.

“I hope we’re not banned from the store,” Angelique fretted.

“I don’t think we’re deserving that harsh a punishment
,” he smiled. “By the way, I’m Louis. Louis Gomez.”

“Angelique Jaffler,” she
reciprocated. “You know, I think one of these jars has gone bad. Do you smell that?” She couldn’t ignore a lingering odor.

Before Mr. Gomez could respond, a store employee hustling over. “You
folks go ahead with your shopping. I’ll take care of this.”

Angelique and Louis Gomez moved to the end of the isle
and continued their conversation. He’d claimed to be new to the area, telling her how he’d just purchased an older home and planned to renovate, currently looking for a contractor.

“That is so uncanny,” she expressed. “My brother, Tomes, is a contractor, the
best around. He does jobs on the side.”

“
Seems it was a lucky thing I ran into you. But what do you mean ‘on the side?’ Does he have another occupation?”

“We own a thoroughbred farm—Jaffler Farm
,” Angelique told him. “But I have no problem running it alone when he has other work.”

“Do you think he’d be interested?”

“I know he would, if you wouldn’t mind waiting a few weeks. We just suffered a death in the family and he needs a little time…to get back on his feet.”

Angelique hated pushing her brother back to work so soon, but their previous
season had been a slow, dismal one and they were drowning in debt…real financial trouble. Without some much needed cash flow coming in soon, their future wasn’t looking too bright. She’d hoped to line up some events or races, or if it became necessary, even a sale, but to date, they had no shows to speak of and a bleak bottom line just grew bleaker.

“
I’ll give you our number.” She opened her purse in search of a business card.

“I’d rather meet with him,” Mr. Gomez told her. “How about tomorrow, just to
go over the particulars?”

“
I didn’t expect….”

“I’d just like to run some ideas by him. Maybe get an estimate on the cost…a ballpark figure.”

“Okay. Why don’t you come by the farm in the morning. Say nine?” Finding a card, she jotted down the directions on the back before passing it to him.

Parting ways with Mr. Gomez
, she moved on with her shopping, suddenly remembering Corin’s interest in hiring Tomes. But she didn’t fret over the matter, uncertain if Tomes would even work for Corin, considering his attitude toward him. And this way, they had a backup.

I’m asking too much, too soon.
But our home is at stake.

She felt guilty soliciting work for Tomes, knowing his heartache.
Life had struck them an awful blow, but she had to trust they would find a light somewhere at the end of that dark tunnel they were lost in. Their lives had been torn apart and they were in danger of losing the only thing they had left…their home. She couldn’t let that happen. With things as they were, she had no choice but to step up and save her brother, their farm, and both their sanities.

Tomes’s well-being weighed heavy on her mind. She was
terrified for him, seeing nothing but an empty shell of the warm, loving man he had been before the murder. It was all so despairing, worrying that neither of them would ever recover from this matter of murder, praying they weren’t doomed to walk in the darkness forever.

Chapter Seven

The Midnight Hour

Boldor Enescu metamorphosed the second his talons touched the ground. His
ebony hair and overcoat blowing in the breeze, he stood at the back of the stately house gazing at the impressive structure with his dark-brown eyes. Shape-shifting once more into a small, gray rodent, he wiggled his way through a crack of deteriorating mortar, wormed his way along the interior of the wall, and squeezed under a loosened baseboard. Inside, he shed the fur and took back human form.

A small black spider crawled up his leg and onto his coat, stopping on one of
the amber buttons. The gem liquefied to a sticky resin, the arachnid melting into the large stone as if sinking into a spoon of honey. Bound inside until called upon again, he rubbed the now solid button.

Scanning the room, his eyes narrowed. With help from his little spy, he knew
Corin wasn’t there, so he moved about with ease, sizing up the place, examining his subject’s accumulation of wealth.

“Not bad, von Vadim. I see you’re from ages past,” he remarked.
Boldor was by no means dimwitted, knowledgeable in many fields of study and excessively passionate when it came to the fine arts, which he believed defined points in time. And the history pouring out from the exceptional pieces hidden away in the mansion told him quite a lot about his rival.

After touring every room on the first floor, Boldor made his way up the
elaborate staircase to the second level where he found the library. He took a comfortable seat in one of two brown leather-bound chairs sitting near a non-burning fireplace and propped his feet up on an accompanying ottoman.

“I could get used to this…a king in his castle
.”

His gaze trailed the room, stopping on a silver-etched cigar box lying atop the
mantle. Unable to resist a good smoke, he snaked over and opened it, finding the box filled with Monties.

“Very good choice.” He ran one of the beauties under his nose, breathing in
the unique aroma. Eager to try it, he pulled a lighter from his pocket, bit the tip off the cigar, and lit it while settling back down, enjoying the moment, envisioning himself master of the estate.

After satisfying his fancies there, he slinked through the remainder of the
second floor before venturing up to the third level. Seeing that it hadn’t been occupied in what appeared to be ages, he returned to the main floor and found the basement, knowing that would be Corin’s place of rest. Creeping down the narrow staircase into the cold, damp hollow below, he sniffed the air, his heightened senses overcome by Corin’s distinct scent permeating the room. Von Vadim had inhabited that basement for a very long time.

“You have it all, don’t you, von Vadim.”

Walking over to the crypt forged into the back wall, he ran his hand along Corin’s bed. He jerked the linens back, exposing a thick liner separating the bed from the earth. Lifting it, he reached down and scooped up a handful of Corin’s native soil and raised it to his nose.

“
Hungary,” he identified the origin with a grunt.

Boldor allowed the grains to sift through his fingers
, falling back onto the earth. He dropped the liner and repositioned the linens before turning his attention to the contents of the room.

“What is this?”

He slithered toward a dark-finished antique dresser, aimed for a gold pocket watch lying on its top, along with several other personal items. He picked up the piece and dangled it before him from an affixed chain. Standing there, examining the timepiece, a wicked smile stretched across his face as a beastly idea struck him. All of this could be his. He could become von Vadim and have it all—the wealth, the estate, the ease of life…everything.

Generating a low, malevolent chuckle, he slid the watch, along with a small
pewter figurine of an owl in flight, into his pocket. He headed for the stairs, knowing he should depart before the master of the estate returned home and caught him in his lair. Besides, he had a scheme to devise—a plan to get that blasted marshal off his trail once and for all, and at the same time, set himself up in comfort for a long time to come. He pictured it all in his mind, relishing the idea of obtaining a new identity, one where he wouldn’t be prey on the run from the relentless hunter, Jordon Black. Yes, a fiendish plan was developing, and if he played his cards right, he could pull it off…take over Corin von Vadim’s perfect life. Pirate that he was, he had only one motto,
Whatever Boldor wants, Boldor takes.

He could see no downfall to his plot, other than having to maintain restraint
in feeding on mortals. Unlike von Vadim, he loved the kill, especially the sweet, arousing taste of a woman in her prime. But, he could exercise some control and learn to survive on the blood of beasts, just as von Vadim did, to keep his existence here secure. He could discipline himself…get by with just an occasional splurge of the good stuff. Oh yes, he had a grand plan in the making, and soon, the old timer wouldn’t know what hit him.

* * * *

Angelique leaned against a twisted old oak several feet in front of Louisa’s grave. Something had compelled her to drive to the cemetery at that late hour—nearly midnight—as if Louisa were summoning her from beyond the grave. Not a believer in the supernatural, she discerned it was nothing more than a delayed reaction to her loss. Things had been so chaotic since the murder. She hadn’t had time to just stop and grieve. So in the night, she sat there amid the dead, and cried.

The cemetery glowed under the light of the luminous moon, bringing to mind
The Legend of the Midnight Hour
—a story pertaining to that very place. She recalled the tale from her childhood. Set during the revolutionary war, it gave the account of a young man who’d been sent out in service of his country, leaving his new wife to await his return. Unfortunately, this brave soldier fell in battle, a casualty of war, his lifeless body returned to her by a fellow soldier.