Night Walker (30 page)

He hurried down the hallway toward her bedroom, his pulse racing. If Betty and Jose weren’t here, then where were they? He couldn’t risk allowing the deranged monk to find Kate. He opened the bedroom door, hoping he’d see Betty and Jose inside sleeping.

When Calisto entered her room, preparing to call her name, the scent of blood assaulted his nose, bringing his thirst to life again. A moment later he found her naked body lying in a heap on the floor of her bathroom.

His heart sank.

“Bettina,” he whispered, kneeling beside her as he carefully turned her over.

His eyes glowed when he saw her lifeless stare, her swollen bloodied lip, and the black and blue bruising around her throat.

He reached out to close her dead eyes, whispering the last rites he thought he had forgotten centuries ago.

Jose had done this to her, Calisto had no doubt. He should have warned her. Guilt stung him. He knew Jose was dangerous, but he thought Kate was the target.

He needed to find her. Now.

“Forgive me, Bettina,” he whispered, as he covered her body with
Night Walker
233

a towel. Calisto vanished.

§

Kate left the top down on her convertible as she drove down Interstate 5 toward Point Loma. The cold wind stung her cheeks while more tears slid down her face and wet her skin. Her brain felt overloaded. She wasn’t sure whether she felt heartbroken, terrified, or just insane. Maybe a combination of all three.

She wished she could believe Calisto was crazy and write off his story about drinking blood and past lives as delusional nonsense, but she couldn’t. Too much of what he said made sense.

“God, maybe I’m the crazy one!” She laughed sadly, pulling off the freeway.

How could vampires or Night Walkers—wasn’t that what he called them—really exist? They couldn’t. They were myths. But if Calisto wasn’t really what he said, then how else could she explain that she’d known him for nearly two months and had never caught a glimpse of him during daylight? And how many philanthropists had private bedroom suites underground?

He also knew about her dream, and had the painting of her on his wall with G.S. in the corner. Gregorio Salvador. The man from her dream. And Calisto’s signet ring with the dove gliding over the flames matched the pendant she’d seen in her dreams.

Too much to chalk it up to coincidence.

The longer she thought about her past life with him, the more she remembered. Memories of secret meetings on the beach under the cover of night filled her head. She used to untie his hair and run her fingers through it. She always loved seeing his hair loose and free.

She still did. She guessed some things never changed.

She could remember picking Romneya flowers and wearing them in her hair. She’d always loved the smell and the stark contrast of the white petals like crushed silk against the ebony color of her hair.

Calisto told her the truth. As impossible as it seemed, nothing else made sense. If he planned to lie to her, surely he would’ve come up with a more believable story than
I am an immortal Night Walker
.

But assuming he told her the truth, then what kind of future 234 LISA KESSLER

could they have together?

She always pictured herself getting married and having a family.

She loved Calisto more than she realized she could love another person, but this was too much. He drank blood from living, breathing people.

Could she love a man who killed to live?

If she stayed with him, there would never be a big wedding and no family gatherings. In fact, they wouldn’t have a family at all.

And what about her work?

She couldn’t teach choir all day and then stay up all night with him. Eventually she needed to sleep. She would end up giving up her days so they could be together at night. She’d already started down that road when she lived with him before the pregnancy.

She’d made the choice to give up the sun without even realizing it, but she also hadn’t known the schedule would never change. In the back of her mind, she thought at some point he would stop traveling so much and they could be together during the day, too. But it would never happen. She knew that now.

There was so much they would never share together.

She wiped her eyes, driving aimlessly through her hometown.

Point Loma was fairly deserted at this time of the night, or very early morning. The quiet was a relief. The last thing she needed was people staring at her, wondering why she was upset.

They’d never believe it even if she told them.

It’s nothing really, just that the man I love with all my heart and
soul is a blood-drinking immortal.

Oh yeah, she’d be in a padded room in no time.

She pulled into the driveway of her parents’ empty house and rested her head against the steering wheel. She knew she’d never love another man as much or as deeply as she loved Calisto. When he smiled at her, she felt whole. He was the other half of her soul.

Her heart had found him again even after lifetimes apart.

She couldn’t walk away. She wouldn’t, not now, not ever. But if she stayed, would love be enough to sustain them? Would he still love her when she turned eighty and he still looked like a gorgeous man in
Night Walker
235

the prime of his life? Kate wondered if she might grow to resent him as the years stole away her health and beauty and left him untouched.

With a sigh, she heaved her exhausted body out of the car.

She still hadn’t recovered from losing so much blood during the miscarriage, and the lack of sleep wasn’t helping. She needed to rest and face all of this with a clear head.

Grabbing her purse, she went to the door, wishing she had a bed to sleep in. At this point, even her sleeping bag in her dad’s easy chair sounded like heaven. Kate stepped into the dark house and closed the door behind her.

The second the deadbolt latch engaged, pain shot through her, stealing her voice before she had a chance to scream. A blade pressed against her throat, and blood oozed from a new opening in her shoulder.

“Welcome home.”

236 LISA KESSLER

Chapter Thirty

The monsignor awoke with a start. His ailing heart raced, his brow perspired, but the vision remained clear in his mind. Blood. So much blood.

The vivid dreams weren’t a new phenomenon for him. Dreams were what led him to the Fraternidad as a young man. He’d dreamt of fire and a man who fed off the life of others. The monsignor spent his life learning about the Night Walker and searching for a way to stop him.

His wrinkled hands shook when his feet touched the floor and he rose to dress. He had to go back to Kate Bradley’s house. Her address had come to him twice during his dream. Brother Mentigo stood covered in blood. The final snapshot of his vision included a bloody handprint marking the window of the house he visited yesterday.

Kate Bradley’s house. He didn’t know what the dream meant, but it couldn’t be good.

His arthritic fingers slid back through the wisps of his gray hair, taming them as best he could before he reached for the phone to call a taxi. He would be at her house within twenty minutes.

He hoped he wouldn’t be too late.

§

Night Walker
237

Kate stumbled up the stairs backward as her attacker tugged and pulled her up with him, the blade of his knife still pressed against the soft skin of her throat. The darkness was a palpable creature now, and every step she took made the pain in her shoulder throb throughout the rest of her body. Her whole shirt felt wet and sticky with her warm blood.

She tried to calm herself, but terror won out, and her heart raced. Blood pumped through her veins and out of her wound at an alarming rate. She fought to stay alert, knowing if she fainted now she might never wake up.

At the top of the stairs, he yanked her into the master bedroom that used to belong to her parents and closed the door. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her around, his fingers digging into the stab wound until she felt nauseous from the overwhelming pain.

Moonlight cut through the darkness, making shapes out of the shadows. She tried to focus on the half-moon through the window and distance her mind from her attacker. He could hurt her body, but she would keep her spirit.

She would live through this.

“I thought I had lost you, Kate.”

She recognized the voice, and it broke her concentration. “Jose?” She gasped, blinking to try and clear her vision. She couldn’t believe her eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

He smiled and slid the blade up her arm. Only now she realized it wasn’t a knife. Jose held an ivory handled razor, the old style the barbers used, and ran it slowly down the front of her shirt, slicing the fabric open.

Oh God, he’s going to rape me...

She brought her hand up to her shoulder, pressing her fingers over the wound in a weak attempt to slow the bleeding as she took a step back.

“Calisto will be here any minute,” she lied, praying she sounded more confident than she felt.

Jose stepped forward, reaching up to grab a handful of her hair and drew her in close to him. “I am counting on it.” 238 LISA KESSLER

Scratches covered his face and arms, and her heart sank. Were they from Betty?

She winced as he leaned in even closer. Jose pulled her hand away from her wound, and she watched in horror as his tongue reached out to lick her blood. She whimpered, trying to push him away.

With a cold, calculated chuckle, he drew back to meet her eyes.

“Forgive me for injuring your soft skin, but I needed the scent of your blood to draw him in.”

“You’re insane!” Kate spat at him.

She tried to turn her head away when his breath blew across her face. “I am a visionary. And you are my sacrificial lamb. Through you, I will gain immortality.”

She struggled to break free, but the more she fought, the tighter his hold became until she couldn’t resist any longer. Jose brought his bloody fingers to her face. He stroked her cheek, his lips brushing hers as he whispered, “I know you don’t want to die for this cause, but I will always love you for your sacrifice on my behalf.”

§

Calisto flew toward Point Loma, his heart pounding in his ears as his large raven wings beat against the cold night air. Betty’s body had still been warm and it wasn’t rigid yet. Jose couldn’t have been gone for too long. He prayed now that Kate hadn’t gotten home. Maybe she went to one of her friends’ homes. He had to find her before Jose did.

He opened his mind as he glided past the Cabrillo monument, flying inland toward Kate’s house. When he landed on her street, his form once again that of a man, he ground his teeth together. The scent of Kate’s blood called to him.

His hands shook with fury and hunger. He hadn’t fed, and with the sunrise so near, his immortal body already slowed and weakened.

He wouldn’t have much time, and the intoxicating scent of her blood distracted him.

His thirst, like a primal animal, roared with temptation.

He threw open the front door, splintering the wood frame as the deadbolt ripped through it. Her blood left a trail up the stairs. Calisto
Night Walker
239

followed, bursting through the bedroom door a moment later.

“Let her go.”

Jose slowly broke the bloody kiss, turning around to smile at Calisto as he pressed his razor blade against Kate’s throat. “You are not in a position to demand anything.” Calisto locked eyes with Kate for a moment, his jaw clenching when he saw her wounds. Blood pooled at her feet, staining the beige carpet. Kate’s anemic complexion panicked him. His eyes cut to Jose’s face again as he stepped forward. “She has nothing to do with this. Let her go and we can talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.” He tightened his grip on the blade. “You know exactly what I want, and if you don’t give it to me, Kate dies.” She winced in pain, and a drop of blood trickled down her neck.

Calisto narrowed his eyes, masking the dread brewing in his gut.

“You will have nothing until she is safe.” He reached out to the madman with his mind, trying to control him, to convince him to let Kate go. The Latin chant repeated, and regardless of Calisto’s focus of his power, Jose blocked his mental connection.

Jose laughed. “Do you really believe I am that stupid? If I let her go, I am a dead man. There will be no talking. I can see the hunger in your eyes... ” His words trailed off as he bent forward to lick the drop of blood from Kate’s throat, his eyes never leaving Calisto’s. “Have you tasted her blood yet, Night Walker? I can see why you want her for yourself... So sweet and rich... ”

“Leave her alone!” Calisto shouted, sickened at how deeply he longed to taste the blood draining from the wound in her shoulder.

Jose jammed his finger into the cut, and Kate squealed in pain.

“Stay back, or I’ll do more than just hurt her!” Calisto clenched his fists at his sides, restraining himself from moving any closer. Jose glanced out the window and then back to Calisto with a twisted smile.

“The sun is coming, Night Walker. Stop wasting time.” Calisto struggled to think of a plan. His thirst demanded satisfaction, his body grew weak with hunger, and soon it would be 240 LISA KESSLER

morning. He was running out of options. He couldn’t give Jose his blood, but he wouldn’t allow him to kill Kate either.

The sound of her scream jarred him from his thoughts. Jose had opened her shirt and slid his blade across her abdomen, opening another deep wound.

“How much more will you make her suffer?” She cried out, trembling, bleeding, and in pain, and Calisto couldn’t take anymore. “Let her go! Just let her go and my blood is yours.”

“No, Calisto don’t... ” Kate cried, but her words were cut off by Jose’s blade moving back up to her throat.

“Shut up, whore!”

“Let her go!”

This time the command didn’t come from Calisto. He turned to find an elderly priest standing in the doorway.

The robed man held up a hand and enunciated each word.