Blood and Kisses (4 page)
“Not yet. I’ve compiled a list of names of vampires and witches who were at the Tomb that night. I intend to interview the vampires tonight.”
“I’m going with you.” She braced for a fight.
“Very well, but I warn you, you won’t get a warm reception. And some of them may not have fed yet.”
Thalia turned. “I’ll get my coat.” She glanced back and let out a frustrated sigh. “Dammit!”
He was gone.
The aching emptiness awakened him.
He opened his ancient eyes and peered up at the crumbling ceiling. His keen vision allowed him to trace every crack, despite the heavy shadows. Dusk, aided by the rain, had fallen early that evening. The sky, an oppressive, purple-gray, seemed eager to devour the horizon. It was impossible to see where the broad expanse of wind-ruffled lake terminated and the dense clouds began, giving the illusion he was looking at the ends of the earth. The weather suited his purpose, allowing him to walk the land before sunset, but still he shuddered. He hated rain. Perhaps when all this was over he would move on to some arid clime, maybe Arizona or Southern California.
He could go back home, but he liked the States. The food was good. People went missing here everyday and most Americans never gave it a thought. California, he decided. That was where he would begin his reign. Lots of undocumented people there. No one would notice if some disappeared. Definitely California.
But first, he had unfinished business.
The yellowed parchment he’d had the prophecy transferred to centuries ago had long since disintegrated, but that didn’t matter, the words were imprinted in his brain.
In the new world,
one lake of five shall be the site.
The ancient dead, but living,
shall attain great power
When the marked one dies
and a sacrifice is made
By one who rose long ago
from the grave.
Seers and their prophecies. Why couldn’t Inanna have just spelled things out? There wasn’t even any indication of a time period.
No matter, his internal clock told him this, at last, was the time.
He rose from the rickety bed, smoothing his black wispy hair with one crabbed, pointy-nailed hand. His attention was drawn to his desiccated flesh. His hooked nose wrinkled in repugnance; he could smell his own rot. The surge of power he’d derived from his last kill was fading more quickly than he’d expected. He would have to feed. And soon.
No matter. Feeding was a pleasure not a duty.
He cloaked himself with illusion and swept into the rainy night. The tired blood in his veins sang a little song of anticipation. It would be a little more difficult to find prey in this tiresome drizzle. The Red Wings baseball game at Frontier Field had been rained out, and only the regulars would be at the Tomb.
The
Tomb. What a name.
He allowed himself a rusty chuckle. His adversary was nothing if not predictable. Although he supposed more than one hundred years ago, the name might have sounded original.
He found a sheltered doorway not far from the bar and settled in to wait.
“Going somewhere?” Spotlighted by the twin beams of his headlights, Thalia stood before the hood of his black Jaguar. Rain sheeted off her hooded raincoat. Her hands were fisted on her hips.
Gideon sighed. He’d never doubted she’d find him, but he’d thought it would take her longer to track him down. “Get in.” He waited while Thalia slid into the passenger seat. “How did you find me?” A twinge of admiration at how quickly she’d located him softened his frustration.
“Tracking spell. I figured you’d try to dump me.” She glared at him. She looked like a snow leopard confronting a tiger. A very wet, angry snow leopard.
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m taking you back.” He put the car in gear.
“Forget it. I’ll just find you again. If you’re so worried I’ll get hurt if I come along, think what trouble I could get into on my own.” She smiled sweetly, batting her lashes.
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” he said.
“Gideon, this is an honor.” The slim black vampire with the fifties-style, D.A. hairstyle bowed elaborately at his waist and swept a long-fingered hand behind him, inviting them into the bowling alley. A broad smile creased his narrow face, but Thalia thought she detected a hint of nerves beneath his extravagant welcome, a tinge of tension around his deep-set eyes.
“Richard.” Gideon strode into the cavernous building. His unbuttoned coat billowed behind him, shedding raindrops on the shiny wood floor. He sank into a molded plastic chair at the end of one of the darkened lanes.
Richard scurried to keep up, the rubber soles of his bowling shoes squealing on the wet floor. “And you brought the Champion?” He raised his eyebrows significantly in Thalia’s direction. “Naturally,
you’re
welcome, Gideon, but to bring a P—witch here?” His lip lifted in a sneer.
Gideon growled. In the blink of an eye, he was on his feet, hands knotted in Richard’s shirt, shaking the other man like a rag doll.
A kernel of warmth unfolded in Thalia’s chest. His anger at the insult made her feel protected, cared for. Something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. She shook her head as if to cast off the feeling.
Don’t be silly, Thalia
. He probably didn’t like people questioning his actions. Figures after a few hundred years he’d be stuck in his ways.
She placed a hand on Gideon’s forearm. He freed the other man, who stumbled back, and steadied himself, smoothing the wrinkles Gideon’s fists had crushed into his shirt.
She smiled at Richard, as if she hadn’t noticed his insult or Gideon’s reaction to it. “Richard, is it? I’m Thalia.”
Hoping to defuse the situation, she snuffed an incipient yawn and fell into one of the white plastic chairs, shifting to find a comfortable spot. Gideon re-took his seat.
The air in the empty bowling alley was weighty with the scent of chilidogs and nachos, pretzels and pizza, liberally seasoned with beer and stale cigarette smoke. It seemed some people didn’t care about bans.
Richard came to stand before them, hands clasped behind his skinny back. He looked like a student about to be read the riot act by the principal. Gideon seemed to inspire that reaction everywhere he went, a kind of respectful awe leavened by fear.
Richard dipped his head, the greased ends of his hair brushing the collar of his red bowling shirt. “What can I do for you?”
Gideon gave him a hard look. “A woman was found drained two days ago.”
“Hey!” Richard held up his palms. “I don’t know anyone stupid enough to break the rules. We all know who would come after us, if we did. I didn’t accept the dark gift only to crumble to dust barely fifty years later.” He shook his head. “Besides, who would hunt at the Tomb? Place is full of Poisonbloods, man.” His narrow shoulders twitched, his face an illustration of repulsion. “Like I said, I don’t have a death wish.”
Thalia didn’t need magic to see he was telling the truth.
Gideon must have agreed. He nodded and stood, leaving his chair rocking on its single metal support. “If you hear anything...” The words were spoken in a low tone, as much a threat as a request.
Thalia glared at Gideon and got to her feet. Fear wouldn’t get them anywhere. “Anything at all.” She gave Richard her card and sent him a radiant smile. “Please call us.”
Richard nodded as he escorted them to the door, shooing them out with anxious hand movements, blatantly eager to have them gone. “I’ll contact you immediately. You can count on it.”
He closed and locked the frosted glass and metal door behind them with a decisive click, leaving them standing alone under the thin metal overhang that protected the door from the elements. Rain still spattered the puddled pavement around them. The small shelter forced her to stand close to Gideon. Too close. His exotic scent, a blend of sandalwood, spice, and his own warm clean skin, intoxicated her exhausted mind and she swayed toward him. He placed a strong hand on her arm to steady her, and she came back to herself.
What am I doing?
She stepped away and let the cool water dripping over the edge of the roof sprinkle her face.
Gideon reached out and wiped a raindrop from her smooth cheek with his thumb. His dark gaze feasted on her face, fierce and unreadable.
Suddenly, a dark, man-sized shape hurtled out of the night. Gideon swept Thalia out of the way. His hand burned through the nylon and silk of her coat. Their attacker, a long-jawed teenager in a tattered T-shirt and jean-shorts, stumbled past them and pushed off against the wall. Thalia regained her balance and reached into her purse for her weapon. Empty.
Damn it!
She’d left her stake in the car. It hadn’t seemed polite to bring a stake to a vampire’s bowling alley. She bolted to the vehicle and grabbed the door handle.
Locked, naturally
.
Gideon surveyed the boy as he dodged a punch. Loose gray skin stretched over jutting cheekbones. The teenager moved fast, but not fast enough.
A revenant, then
. The mere remains of a human being. He peered into the rain-soaked night, hoping to catch sight of the creature’s master, and the boy attacked again. A knife appeared in his bony hand.
The demon rattled the door to his prison, and Gideon felt a snarl form in his throat. He gritted his teeth. There was no way he was going to allow the demon free reign. He sidestepped the youth and grasped him by the head. With a sharp twist, he snapped the revenant’s neck.
Thalia glanced over her shoulder to see how Gideon was doing, but it was over. Their attacker lay motionless on the ground, his head tilted at an unnatural angle. She stood stunned for a moment, letting the rain soak her hair and fill her fallen hood, until a dribble of cold water down her neck shocked her back to business.
She walked over, legs rubbery from leftover adrenaline, and crouched by the body. “God, he looks young.”
She wasn’t aware she had spoken aloud until Gideon said, “There’s no age limit for pawns.”
She looked up at him, shoved a strand of hair from her eyes. “What do you mean?”
He scrutinized their surroundings, as if looking for something, or some
one
.
“You think there’s someone else out there?” Thalia stood.
Gideon nodded. “This is a revenant. Just a husk, really, with some limited intelligence. Someone’s puppet.”
Thalia noticed the knife lying next to the revenant for the first time. A chill that had nothing to do with the rain rolled over her. “He didn’t have a stake.”
“That’s because it wasn’t me he was gunning for.”
The lights from the dashboard highlighted Gideon’s face from below, accentuating the hollows beneath his cheekbones. He looked every inch your not-so-friendly neighborhood vampire.
Neither had spoken since the attack. Thalia had been too absorbed in the implications of Gideon’s assertion. And heavens only knew what Gideon had been thinking.
She thought of the paper she’d found with Lily’s things.
Gideon might not be able to drain a witch’s blood, but if he wanted her out of the way...
She sighed. He would simply kill her himself. Why hide behind a revenant? It made no sense.
Gideon put the car into park, turned the key, and silenced the purring engine.
Thalia rubbed her fatigued eyes and gazed up at the red-brick Georgian mansion visible through the rain-spotted windshield. The driveway continued on to a large detached garage in the same style behind the house.“ Where are we?”
“My house.”
“Why?” The word escaped from her lips like a wild-caught bird from a cage.
“You know why.”
“Listen, I can take care of myself.”
He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “If you thought you could handle this on your own, why’d you come to me in the first place?” That shut her up. She could hardly tell him the truth, after all.
He unfastened his seatbelt and left her alone in the car. The door thunked solidly as it shut. Seconds later, her door opened and he leaned over her. “Shall we?"
Thalia hesitated for a moment, then released her seatbelt and followed him up the curving walk to the brick steps leading to his front door. She could smell the lake and hear the soft rush of the waves as they lapped the shore. This must be one of the mansions that lined the lakeshore, probably in the town of Greece or on Beach Avenue in the city.
Gideon unlocked the door and escorted her inside.
Wow!
Thalia mouthed as he led the way into the vaulted entrance of his home. Everything from the oriental area rugs covering the glowing hardwood floors to the sweeping staircase showed affluence and exquisite taste. It seemed more like the lobby of an exclusive hotel than a private home.
“It’s beautiful,” she couldn’t help saying as they climbed the stairs.
Curiosity darted through her and she spoke without thinking. “You can’t make enough from the B.B. and C. to live like this?”
The broad back froze, and he turned around. His face shocked her as it always did. Lit by the soft light from the chandelier overhead, it had the stark beauty of a mountain landscape.
Her breath caught in her throat, a small animal captured in a trap, not sure whether to advance or retreat.
“When you’ve lived as long as I have, you accumulate many things. It’s important that the tavern be profitable because I hate to fail, but you’re right. I don’t need the money. I do however, need something to occupy my time.”
Thalia paused, stunned by the image his words evoked. What would it be like to live for hundreds, maybe thousands of years? To live longer than the people you loved, longer than civilizations? A wave of insight broke over her, and she sucked in a breath at the incredible loneliness she glimpsed behind his self-assured façade.
He wasn’t as invulnerable as he would like her to believe. That thought turned her mind back to the attack.
“Gideon, why are you so sure whoever sent that revenant was after me? Sure a stake is the recommended...” This word earned her a glare. She faltered and then continued. “...method of killing a vampire, but there are other ways.”