There's Always Tomorrow (Immortal Series) (3 page)

His face was dark
with rage.
 
“You disobeyed me and
gave the medicine to the gadjos.”
 
He walked up to the girl and slapped her once, very hard, across her
innocent face.
 
“They will live,
now,” he grumbled, and walked away, shaking his head in dismay.

Standing alone,
tears began to flow down Nadia’s reddened cheeks.
 
She truly did not understand.
 
Quietly, she asked, “These two good men will now be able to
have their lives back, and go home to their loved ones.
 
What is so bad about that?”

Present Day

Tony sat watching the big-breasted blonde lounging
at the end of the bar.
 
Every man in
the club had seen her come in and had tried to get her attention.
 
Unfortunately for them, she seemed to
only have eyes for Tony.

Perhaps it was
his sultry, green gaze peering through incredibly long lashes; or it was his
raven-black hair, worn longer than fashion dictated, that caught her
interest.
 
His skin was smooth and
tan, and with the exception of the large scar on the side of his neck, he
appeared flawless.
 
He looked
slightly dangerous in his black shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, and his black
designer jeans, worn low on slim hips.
 
His well-polished, black boots were hand tooled and obviously custom
designed.
 
Upon his index finger,
she noticed he wore a very large and unusual looking emerald ring—an
heirloom, and no doubt priceless.
 
The man exuded class, power, and old money.
 
It was a lethal combination.

More than
likely, her interest in Tony stemmed from the fact that he was the only man in
the place that didn’t pay her the least bit of attention, and she was unused to
that.
 
Taking a deep breath and
allowing her breasts to overflow her delicate silk blouse, she noticed the
reaction she got from every man within view—every man with the exception
of Mr. Gorgeous.
 
This would be an
enjoyable challenge, and one she intended to win.

She smiled
seductively, and ran her pink tongue over her luscious, swollen lips.
 
Holding her martini glass high, she
motioned to the dark and brooding stranger at the opposite end of the bar.
 
His smoldering good looks had fired her
imagination, among other things, and she was determined to go home with him
tonight.
 
“Dear God, don’t let him
be gay,” she prayed, silently.

Tony curled his
lips in distaste.
 
Sure, she was
sexy as hell, but there was nothing genuine about her. Most women were
beautiful, nowadays, it seemed.
 
It
was the availability of cheap cosmetic surgery that made it all possible.
 
With enough money, even the plainest
Jane could wake up from the anesthesia and discover she was a cover girl.
 
Plump up the lips to twice their
natural size, trim the nose to a dainty point, shape the chin and thighs, add a
few hair extensions, three-inch acrylic nails, and glue on some white veneers…and
there you have it!
 
Voila!
 
No boobs?
 
Don’t sweat it.
 
You can buy them in any size you want.

No.
 
The women, of today, were not for
Tony.
 
He liked his women
real—that is, if he had a woman.
 
He’d given up on women decades ago.

He’d seen
enough for one evening.
 
Tony
slapped some bills down on the counter and turned to leave, when...

“Ugh,” he
grunted.
 
A tiny little redhead ran
smack into his chest, forcing him back down onto the stool he had just
vacated.
 
He had to admit she was
adorable, with freckles liberally sprinkled across her pert little nose, and
large, expressive, periwinkle eyes.
 
She was also frightened out of her wits.

“Watch it,
honey,” he said, softly.
 
“Are you
okay?”

The petite
woman looked up at him, even though he was seated, pleading with her beautiful
eyes.

Tony could
identify a damsel in distress.
 
He
grasped her by her small shoulders and guided her to a secluded table in the
corner of the bar.

“Can I do
anything for you, Miss?”
 
Tony
didn’t really want to get involved, but he couldn’t just walk away without
knowing the kind of danger she was in.
 
She probably had a bastard of a boyfriend that needed some lessons in
manners.

She
swallowed.
 
“I think I’m being
followed,” she whispered.
 
“I’m
afraid to leave here alone.
 
The
police have discovered another body, just two blocks from my apartment.
 
Now, I feel ... I think someone is
following me.”
 
The young woman
tried to catch her breath.
 
Her eyes
darted over the faces in the bar.
 
“Perhaps it’s just my imagination, but...”

“Perhaps not,”
Tony warned.
 
“May I offer my
assistance?
 
I could escort you
home?”
 
Tony liked the feel of her
silky flesh under his fingers.
 
It
had been a long time.
 
Her lovely
red-hair smelled clean and fresh.
 
Her pouty lips were moist, and the mere thought of them made his mouth
water.

“Thank you,”
she said, softly.
 
Her voice
quivered slightly as she tried to disguise her fear.
 
This stranger was enormous, and he made her aware of her own
vulnerability.
 
However, he seemed
to honestly care about her welfare.
 
“I think I’d like that.
 
My
name is Marci Goodwin, by the way.
 
What’s yours?” she asked, innocently.

“Anthony
Barton, but my friends call me Tony.
 
Let’s get out of here, Marci.”

It had been
raining earlier in the evening, but the clouds were starting to break apart,
revealing a bright full moon.
 
The
couple had no problem seeing the refuse strewn over the sidewalk and the bums
passed out in the doorways of the various businesses.
 
The neighborhood had definitely seen better days, Tony
lamented, as they passed very few people, on the way to her apartment.
 
Only the clicking of their shoes, on
the pavement, disturbed the silence.

As they rounded
the corner, Tony slowed his steps.
 
“You live in Tribeca?”

She nodded.

“Nice part of
town, if you can afford it.
 
You
live here alone?”
 
She must have a
good income, he thought, or perhaps she was a trust fund baby.

“What is it
with all the questions?” Marci stopped, and looked up into Tony’s chiseled
features.
 
What was it she saw
there?
 
Yes, he was extremely
handsome, but there was something else hidden there, beneath his seductive
smile.
 
He exuded a masculine power
that tended to overwhelm those around him, especially tiny redheads.
 
There was an element of danger surrounding
him, too.
 
Suddenly, Marci no
longer felt safe in his presence.
 
He was too tall, too muscular, and too attractive.

“I ... I live
right up there,” she stammered, as she pointed to a dark building.
 
“Thanks for seeing me home.
 
You can go now, Tony.”
 
She pulled away too quickly, not to
cause some suspicion, and practically fell over her own feet.
 
Clearly, something had spooked her.

“Marci,” Tony
called out, after her.
 
“I’d like
to see you to your door.
 
It’s not
safe for you to walk alone.
 
Where
are you going?”
 
Tony knew she
didn’t live in the building she had pointed to, and he thought it was too bad
that she didn’t want his company.
 
After avoiding the blonde all night, Marci had been natural and
refreshing, and he thought spending time with her would have been enjoyable.
Besides, there was evil in the night air.
 
He could smell it.
 
That
old, familiar feeling of danger had been lurking around since the sun went
down.
 
As Tony turned away, he
hoped the kid got home in one piece.
 
It was a bad night to be out.

Marci never
turned to look back at the large, dark figure standing alone, watching her from
the sidewalk.
 
She practically ran
around the corner, fleeing from the only real protection she had.

“Take care,
Marci,” he had yelled to her, as she disappeared around the building.

* * *

 
“Two in one night!” the chubby waitress
exclaimed.
 
“Can you believe
it?
 
It’s not safe for a woman to
show her face at night anymore.
 
The paper says the second body was attacked right outside her own
door.
 
No one saw or heard a
thing.
 
When I get off work, I’m
goin’ home, lock the doors, and stay there ‘til tomorrow.”

Tony looked at
the front page of the morning paper.
 
Just below the headline were two pictures.
 
Victim number one appeared to be a middle-aged woman, a bit
on the heavy side.
 
The second
victim had red hair, freckles, and a pert little nose.
 
Tony bet she had periwinkle eyes and
lived in Tribeca.
 
“Damn,” he
muttered to himself.
 
“She was a
lovely little morsel.”

He growled
quietly, as he continued reading the article.
 
There was a killer on the loose in New York City, and he
seemed to enjoy slashing and mutilating women.
 
The cops didn’t have a clue as to who they were looking
for.
 
The perp was obviously
psychotic and quite strong, to be able to inflict the kinds of wounds they were
seeing.
 
Tony was amazed that no
one had mentioned the obvious.
 
The
women were attacked on the full moon.
 
Duh!
 
“Give them time,” he
muttered to himself.
 
“They’ll
figure it out,” he smirked.

It wasn’t long
before hysteria started to settle in over the city.
 
It was hard to breathe, as everyone was viewed beneath a
heavy blanket of suspicion.
 
There
were reports of mutilated pets, and rumors of zoo animals succumbing to the
evil, stalking the streets.
 
Now, a
small child was missing.
 
It was
reported that a trail of blood led from a playground, into the nearby woods,
and then simply disappeared.
 
The
child had been snatched just before dusk, and within yards of his own
mother.
 
So far, his body had not
been found.
 
The mother was being
held for questioning.

“Enough of this
nonsense,” growled Tony.
 
If the
inept NYPD couldn’t find this maniac and stop him, Tony would.
 
He’d done it before, and he recognized
all the signs.
 
Sadly, it was his
calling to rein in one of his own kind, when they went mad or gave in to their
more depraved instincts.
 
He’d call
his friend, Grant, and see what news he had on the crimes.
 
Grant was the best P.I. in New York,
even if his contacts were somewhat outside the boundaries of the law.
 
Grant figured when it came to scumbag
criminals, and the like, it wasn’t too important not to cross some lines.

Pulling his
cell from his pocket, Tony made the call.

“Hello,
Tony.
 
I’ve been waiting to hear
from you,” the deep voice of Grant Paulsen resonated through the phone.

“Yeah, I’ve
been trying to stay out of it.
 
I
was hoping the police could take care of things, but they’re hopeless—as
usual.
 
If we do this together, it
will take less time.
 
Who knows?
 
We might save some poor soul from an
early demise.
 
I’ve already met one
of his victims, and she deserved better than to be murdered that way.
 
She was just a scared kid.
 
Pretty little thing, too.
 
Are you available?”

“Sure.
 
Deal me in, Tony.
 
Why don’t you meet me here for
lunch?
 
We’ll put our heads
together and see what we come up with.
 
The way I see it, this one isn’t too smart, just vicious.”

Tony looked at
his watch.
 
It was a quarter to
eleven.
 
“Okay.
 
Lunch sounds good.
 
Order me something rare,” he laughed,
and hung up.

Grant’s office
was all the way across town, requiring Tony to leave immediately.
 
Rather than drive his black Porsche, he
decided to take a cab.
 
It would
allow him to close his eyes and think about things, maybe give him a chance to
remember everything he’d chosen to forget.

As Tony took
his place in the uncomfortable rear seat of the taxi, he closed his eyes and let
his mind wander back over the years, back to an earlier era.
 
It was a time of great violence and
much heartbreak.
 
It was 1863, and
America was embroiled in a horrendous battle for its very existence.
 
The civil war was raging across the
lush valleys and fertile fields, leaving a scorched earth behind, stained with
the blood of its own sons.
 
Tony
could still smell the acrid smoke from the rifles and cannon fire.
 
Even after more than one hundred and
forty years, he could see the evidence of battle, hanging thickly in the
morning air.
 
The pungent fragrance
of blood filled his nostrils, making his stomach queasy.
 
He’d never been able to entirely clean
that stench from his memory.
 
It
was there, in the midst of turmoil, that he first met Grant Paulsen; only then,
he called himself, Paul Grant.