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Authors: Iris Johansen

Tags: #Fiction

And Then You Die (15 page)

BOOK: And Then You Die
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Regardless of where the hit was made, he couldn't leave those photographs behind. He'd have to go in and get them.

 

“Are you satisfied?” Kaldak said between his teeth as they walked down the street toward her apartment. “We've been out more than two hours. Did you want to make sure that they got a nice try at you?”

She didn't answer. She had known Kaldak was tense all the time they had been on the street.

He opened the street door. “Well?”

He wasn't going to let it go. She started up the stairs. “Nothing happened. He has to know he can't––”

Rats.

Dozens of rats. Huge rats.

On the stairs in front of her. And behind her too. Scurrying wildly up and down the steps.

She shuddered as one ran over her foot.

“Out.” Kaldak grabbed her arm and pulled her down the steps and out onto the street.

The rats streamed out the door onto the sidewalk. Another rat brushed against her foot.

Agent Peterson ran across the street. “What happened?”

“How the hell did they get in there?” Kaldak asked.

“No one was in the building. I've been watching––”

“Get them off the stairs.”

Peterson disappeared into the building.

“I hate rats. Filthy. . . .” She couldn't stop shaking. “Esteban?”

He nodded. “Considering his background, I'd bet on it. He wanted to give you his own worst nightmare.”

She closed her eyes.

“Are you all right?”

“It was just the shock.” She opened her eyes and moved toward the staircase. “I need to get upstairs. He'll call me. He's going to want to know what this did to me.”

She passed the agent, who was struggling to shoo the rats down the stairs, and unlocked the apartment door.

Kaldak was right behind her and nudged her aside. “Let me check out the apartment first. That agent must have fouled up.”

The phone rang as Kaldak was coming out of the darkroom. “Let me get it.”

“No, he wants to talk to me. And I want to talk to him.”

“Ah, you've come home at last. This is the third time I've called,” Esteban said when she picked up. “Did you like my little surprise?”

“It was a pretty weak attempt. I knew you didn't have Julie,” she said. Be calm. Don't show him the fear and revulsion. “As for those rats . . . they didn't bother me. I like them. I had a pet rat when I was a kid.”

There was a silence. “You lie.”

“He was a white rat and his name was Herman. He had a cage with a treadmill and a little––”

He hung up on her.

“Did you really have a rat when you were a kid?” Kaldak asked.

“Don't be crazy. I can't
stand
them.” She let her breath out. “But I think he believed me.”

“If he did, he'll hate you even more. You're now in league with his nemesis.”

There was a knock on the door and Kaldak opened it. It was Peterson, and Kaldak said to Bess over his shoulder, “I'll be right back. I need to check something out.”

She was glad he was gone. She hadn't wanted him to see how unsettled that latest attack had made her. She needed a moment to recover. Hell, she needed a year to recover.

First, the mental attack with Julie's shirt, and then the physical one with the rats.

“There's a hole drilled in the wall that borders the alley,” Kaldak said as he came back into the apartment. “It could have been done anytime and Peterson wouldn't have seen him from across the street.” His lips tightened. “From now on there will be a guard in the alley too.”

“That's the way they came in?”

He nodded. “A length of tunnel tubing was inserted. We went out, the rats were let in to wait for us.”

“De Salmo?”

“Or one of Esteban's other men. De Salmo's a specialist and this is small stuff.”

It hadn't seemed small stuff to her. It was the stuff of which nightmares were made.

“If you don't like it, you know what you can do.”

“Shut up, Kaldak. I'm not going anywhere.”

“Except out in the Quarter tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

“Bright,” he muttered. “Very bright.”

 

The next afternoon she tossed the new batch of photographs on the coffee table in front of him. “Here they are. See what you can make of them.”

He leafed through the prints. “You took enough.”

“Four rolls. I wanted to make sure I got him if he was out there.” She plopped down in a chair. “Well?”

“Nothing so far. I'll have to study them.”

“We could go out again,” she said, disappointed.

“No!” He quickly looked down at the photos again. “The streets are starting to get too busy. We may not be able to go out again.”

“The hell we won't.”

“The hell we will,” he said curtly. “It's not safe, dammit. We'll stay here.”

Don't get angry. Try to keep it light. “And what about the missile through the window and the mamba in the drain?”

“I'll take care of them.”

“We agreed the risk wasn't that much greater.” She leaned forward, frowning. “You're not making sense, Kaldak.”

“I never agreed to anything, and I'm making perfect sense. You wanted me to keep you alive. I'm doing it.”

“We've been out on the street every day and nothing's happened so far.”

“We're not going out again.”

“Why are you objecting now? What's different?”

“I thought he'd make a move and I could take care of him. But he's playing cat and mouse.”

“Then we'll play too. And in the meantime, I'll keep on taking photos and you can––”

“No, it's too risky.”

“You didn't think it was too risky before.”

“Goddammit, I do now.” He swept the photographs to the floor. “Just do what I tell you.”

He had erupted like a volcano, taking her completely by surprise, shocking her. She had seen him violent before, but the violence had been cold and controlled. There was nothing cold about this outburst. The man standing in front of her was nothing like the Kaldak she had come to know. “What's wrong, Kaldak?”

“What's not wrong? Esteban's trying to feed you to the rats, the strike can come at any time, Ramsey hasn't been able to find Morrisey or Esteban, and De Salmo is out there just waiting for me to make a wrong move so he can take you out.”

“Maybe he's not even here. Maybe the informant was wrong.”

“He's here.” He nodded jerkily at the photos on the floor. “I just can't recognize the bastard.”

“You only saw him from a distance once.”

“There should be something . . . some way.”

She knelt down to gather the photos, and he was immediately beside her. “I did it. I'll pick them up.”

“Is that another one of your mother's rules?”

“It's my rule. You break something, you fix it.” He set the photos on the coffee table. “At least, you try. Sometimes you can't put Humpty Dumpty together again.”

“Well, this particular Humpty Dumpty wasn't irreparably damaged.”

He wouldn't look at her. “I'm sorry.”

Before she could respond, he vanished into the kitchen.

Fourteen

Bess had never seen Kaldak like this. He was practically pacing. She could almost feel his intensity charging the room.

All evening she'd tried to keep her eyes on the pages of her book, but she was scarcely aware of what she was reading.

She finally gave up and tossed down the novel. “Anne Rice isn't holding me tonight. I think I'll go to bed.”

He glanced at the book. “She writes about vampires, doesn't she?”

“Yes, and about New Orleans. I'm a big fan.”

He smiled crookedly. “I can see why you'd want to avoid vampires at the moment. It's got to be overkill when you're living with one.”

“You may take my blood but you're too scientific to be a vampire,” she said lightly.

“Am I?”

She looked hurriedly away from him. “You'd know if you ever read Rice. Lestat is definitely not scientific. He's a very complex vampire with––”

The phone rang and she automatically tensed. She picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Kaldak. I need to talk to Kaldak.”

Not Esteban. She tried to mask her relief with a shrug as she handed Kaldak the phone. “I vaguely recall a time when I actually got normal telephone calls. I think it's Ed Katz. Talk about vampires . . .”

She stood up and wandered over to the window. The shadow gargoyle seemed smaller tonight. She wondered what it looked like just before the streetlights went off in the morning. Maybe she should set her alarm and see.

“I have to take a sample.”

She turned to see Kaldak hanging up the phone. “Why? You sent one off this morning.”

“The closer to a breakthrough he gets, the greedier he gets.”

“And how close is he getting?”

“It's hard to tell. In developing any antidote, it's usually one step forward, two steps back.”

“He sounded excited.”

“Well, he thinks maybe he took a step and a half forward on the last test.” He paused. “You don't have to do it. I can wait until morning.”

She shrugged. “Give it to him.” She sat down at the dining room table and rolled up her left sleeve. “It doesn't matter.”

“It matters.” He took the kit out of the desk drawer. “Do you think I'd put you through this if it didn't matter to a lot of people.”

“I didn't mean––” She gave it up. “Just take the sample and let me go to bed, Kaldak.”

“That's what I'm doing.”

She always hated to watch the blood enter the tube, so she fastened her gaze on his dark head. The muscles at the sides of his neck were rigid as he carefully inserted the needle.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked in a low voice.

“You never hurt me.”

“Yes, I do.” His gaze never left the needle. “But maybe not this time.” He took out the needle and put it on the table. “I'm sorry. It's over now.”

“Why are you apologizing? It's no big deal. I gave more at the last Red Cross blood drive.”

“But I wasn't the one who took it.” He held her arm while he applied pressure, then dabbed at the tiny drop of blood at the puncture site. “I don't like to––” He stopped, staring down at her arm.

“Something wrong?”

“Yes,” he said thickly. “Something's wrong.” He slowly lifted her arm and pressed his lips to the wound.

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. She wasn't supposed to feel this lust. But it was there.

Crazy. Not now. Not with Kaldak. Never with Kaldak.

He lifted his head and looked at her. “That's what's wrong.”

“No,” she whispered.

“Yes.” His lips slid down her forearm to the veins of her wrist. A wave of heat moved through her. “I want it. I've wanted it for a long time. Sometimes just the smell of you makes me hard.” He pressed his lips to her palm. “I know I'm no sex object, but you won't be disappointed. Ugly men have to know more. I can make you––”

“Stop it,” she whispered. “I can't––Emily.”

“Would Emily want you to stop living? Would you love her less because you went to bed with me?”

“Of course I wouldn't.”

“And you want it.”

God, yes, she wanted it. She wanted
him
. He was scarcely touching her and her body was responding. “It would . . . interfere.”

“It's already interfering. It can't get much worse. I can't––” He stopped, his gaze on her face. “No?” He slowly released her arm. “You're sure?”

She wasn't sure about anything. She was confused and uncertain and . . . aroused. Oh, yes, definitely aroused.

He stood up and picked up the needle and kit. “Don't worry, I'm not going to push,” he said jerkily. “I want to. You don't know how much. But I won't. I've already taken too much from you.” He moved toward the kitchen. “I'll get this sample ready for Ed.”

She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. She wanted him. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted him inside her. Christ, she hadn't felt like this since those first heady weeks with Matt. No, she couldn't compare Matt to Kaldak. She couldn't compare anyone to Kaldak.

“I told you not to worry about it.”

She opened her eyes to see Kaldak standing by the front door with the familiar sample package in his hand. “If you don't want me, you don't want me, but don't feel guilty. This has nothing to do with what happened to Emily. Sex has a way of ambushing us while we're in the middle of a crisis. It probably has something to do with preservation of the species.” He opened the front door. “I'm going to go downstairs and give this to Agent Peterson to ship tonight. You go on to bed.”

Don't feel guilty.

Go on to bed.

He was always telling her what to do, dammit. He always thought he knew best. From the very beginning he had tried to guide her down the path he wanted her to go.

Except tonight. He'd backed away. He'd given her a choice.

 

The lights were out when Kaldak came back into the apartment twenty minutes later.

Bess had gone to bed.

Or maybe she was just hiding out in her room, trying to pretend what had happened between them didn't happen, trying to pretend that he didn't exist.

He was a fool. He knew all about discipline. He had learned it in the hardest school. Why hadn't he used it tonight? Why had he put her on the spot? It was the wrong time. Not that any time would be right. Not for him. Not for them. Too much had happened that––

“Are you going to stand there all night, Kaldak?” Bess called out. “For God's sake, come to bed.”

He went rigid. He slowly turned toward her bedroom. “Bess?”

“Who do you think it is? There are only two of us in the apartment.” She paused, and when she spoke again her voice was unsteady. “And one of us is scared to death about this.”

He moved toward the door, his heart pounding like thunder.

“Two of us, Bess,” he whispered. “Two of us.”

 

New Orleans was suiting Marco extremely well. The crowded streets, always convenient to his profession, reminded him of Rome.

The man was right ahead of him. Gray suit, no tie, balding head.

Marco dodged a drunken couple coming out of a bar. His pace quickened. He couldn't lose this quarry. Esteban was upset, but this should pacify the bastard.

The man in the gray suit was heading down Bourbon toward Canal Street. His car was probably parked in one of the lots on Canal.

Marco cut down to Royal, then ran at full speed before doubling back to Bourbon.

He was breathing heavily as he stepped into the alley.

He waited.

A woman in a short skirt and leopard-patterned high heels passed the alley.

He waited.

Gray suit, bald head.

There.

The pencil-slim blade of his knife cut through the gray suit straight to the heart even as he dragged the man into the alley.

 

“Kaldak.”

He moved closer, his mouth closing over her nipple. “What?”

“I want my camera.”

He raised his head. “I beg your pardon?”

“Will you get me my camera?”

“I will not. I'm otherwise occupied.”

“I want to take your picture.”

“Later.” He suddenly chuckled. “Though I'm sure you discovered something stunning about me that you want to commemorate.”

“Braggart.” She
had
found out something stunning about him. Sex with Kaldak was glorious fun. After the first intense, passionate release he had become almost playful. It had been totally unexpected. “I want to take a picture of the vainest man I know.”

“And the best lover.”

“I don't remember.” She gasped as he reached between them and massaged her. “Well, close.”

“The best?”

“I don't know if I should pander to your van––”

She couldn't talk anymore. Her climax was mounting.

“Pander to me, Bess,” he whispered. “I need it. I need you.”

 

She nestled closer, staring dreamily into the darkness. She felt small and fragile curled up next to Kaldak's big, muscular frame. Strange that she didn't resent it. It felt . . . cozy, nice. “What time is it?”

Kaldak looked at the luminous dial of the clock on the nightstand. “Four thirty-five.” He brushed a kiss on her temple. “Why? Do you have another appointment?”

“Don't be so flip. It's not as if I'm not a busy woman. You're just lucky you happened to catch me between jobs.”

“Hallelujah. That's the only lucky thing that's happened to me lately.”

A little of her contentment ebbed away as memory intruded. No, there hadn't been good luck in her life lately either.

“Shh, don't think about it.” He drew her closer. “This moment is damn magnificent. To hell with––”

“What's your name, Kaldak?”

“What?”

“Well, Kaldak couldn't be your real name. Esteban would probably have recognized it from Nakoa. I think every woman who sleeps with a man should know his real name.”

“How conservative of you.”

“Is it Deuteronomy? Rumpelstiltskin?”

“It's David.”

“David what?”

“Gardiner.”

“David Gardiner.” She shook her head. “It will take some getting used to.”

“Don't get used to it. I told you, he doesn't exist anymore.”

“Haven't you ever been tempted to resurrect him? I'd think that you'd––”

The phone on the bedside table rang.

She stiffened.

He reached over and picked up the receiver. “Hello.” Then he sighed, sat up, and turned on the light. “For God's sake, Ed, this better be good news. Do you know what time it is?”

Ed Katz? The man had to be a fanatic. Bess sat up and leaned against the headboard.

“What do you mean? I sent it. It should have reached you by one at the latest. . . . How do I know? . . . Okay, okay, I'll call Ramsey.” Kaldak hung up. “Ed didn't get the sample. We may have to take another one. I'll check with Ramsey to see what the holdup is.”

“Great.” She made a face as she got out of bed and reached for her robe. “Just what I need to crown the evening. I'll go get a snack.”

Kaldak came into the kitchen a couple of minutes later.

“Well, do I have to shed more blood, or did they find the––” She broke off when she registered the look on his face. “What's wrong?”

“Ramsey didn't know anything about the sample. Peterson never notified him. As far as he knew, Peterson was still on guard outside the apartment. They're looking for him now.”

She swallowed. “Maybe it's just some small mistake.”

“Maybe.”

“But you don't think so.” She hesitated. “I don't understand. It doesn't––”

She jumped when the digital phone in Kaldak's hand rang.

Kaldak punched a button and identified himself. He hung up a few moments later. “They found Peterson in an alley five blocks from here. He's dead.”

She stared at him in bewilderment. “Dead?”

“A stiletto in the back. No sample on him.”

A stiletto. “De Salmo?”

Kaldak nodded.

“But it doesn't make sense. Why would he kill over the sample? He must know we'd just take another one.”

“Maybe De Salmo thought a delay would please Esteban.”

And she had been the one who had insisted that all CDC calls come in on her regular phone. Peterson might be alive still if De Salmo hadn't been able to monitor her phone.

“Stop it,” Kaldak told her roughly. “Peterson was an agent. Risk goes with the job. And his death might not have had anything to do with the call. It could be that Esteban just wanted to give you another scare.”

“Then why take the sample?” She crossed her arms over her chest to keep them from trembling. “It was my fault, dammit.”

“Okay, it was your fault. But not because of anything you did. It's because of the immunity factor. Esteban and De Salmo are getting desperate because, for once, time may be on our side.”

“Maybe. Katz isn't sure. You're not sure.”

“Pull yourself together. You'll need it. Ramsey's on his way over.”

“Why?”

“To hit you at your weakest point. He knows he can't budge
me
, so he'll try to persuade you to change your mind about staying here.”

“I won't change my mind.” She felt a sudden rush of anger. Not only were De Salmo and Esteban trying to kill her, but Ramsey was coming to bully her. “Ramsey can just do his job and catch the bastard.”

He smiled. “You tell him that.”

“I will.” She sat down at the table and pushed up the sleeve of her robe. “Now, get that damn kit and take another sample.”

 

“It was sheer stupidity,” Esteban said coldly. “Did you think such a small delay was going to help me? It's the woman I need dead. You're a grave disappointment to me, Marco.”

“It will be accomplished, but when I heard how close––”

“You heard what they wanted you to hear. Do you think Kaldak would permit such carelessness?”

“He's always with her. It's going to take more time than I––”

“I don't
have
time.” Esteban tried to control his anger. “Do you hear me? I don't have time. That's what this is all about.”

“A few more days.”

In a few more days, that Katz at the CDC might come up with the antidote, Esteban thought with frustration. And then his entire plan would go down the tubes.

Think.

There had to be a way.

 

Yael arrived at the apartment before Ramsey got there.

BOOK: And Then You Die
8.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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