Night's Cold Kiss (18 page)

Antoinette’s stomach rumbled. She slid out of the chair in the library to go in search for something to eat. At least she had her appetite back. The first week after Viktor’s death was a blur. She could hardly get out of bed, let alone eat. Cerberus slept on her bed and followed her everywhere, although lately he’d started following Susan as well. The whole house was grieving, and the fact that the master of the house was still missing didn’t help.

Her days had fallen into a routine of waiting. She had taken to reading her way through Christian’s book collection, something she never had the luxury of doing much of.

It’d been two and a half weeks since Viktor’s murder and the encounter with Dante.

And nothing.

No Christian, no more attacks, no more leads. Apparently the blood on the stone altar where they found the girl wasn’t even human; it was used by a satanic cult to sacrifice animals.
Sick bastards.
The VCU had warned both her and Oberon to stay away from the case, threatening them with charges of obstruction if they continued. Not that it would stop her; they’d just run out of leads.

Antoinette was going stir crazy and thought she should
really go back home, but Dante was still out there and no matter what that dickhead Roberts said—she was staying put.

She could understand Christian needing some space after Viktor’s death, but she was starting to get a bit antsy and wanted to help nail Viktor’s killer.

Antoinette heard voices outside the room and found Lilijana with her hands on her hips scowling at Kavindish.

“When did they call you?”

“This morning.” The butler’s voice remained calm, but the skin around his mouth and eyes tightened. “I left the message for you straightaway.”

Antoinette’s heart stopped. It was the closest she’d ever seen Kavindish to showing emotion, and that scared her more than anything. Looks like she wasn’t the only one wondering about Christian’s disappearance.

“What’s going on?” Antoinette asked.

“This is none of your concern, human.” Lilijana’s vehemence smashed against Antoinette in a tidal wave of heat, but then she looked almost sorry.

“The master stumbled into the house upstate in the early hours of the morning,” Kavindish said. “He’s not in good shape, and now he’s locked himself in a room and they can’t reach him.”

Lilijana took out a small pink cell phone with a diamond encrusted L hanging from it. The Aeternus woman’s hands shook as she dialed and Antoinette pretended not to notice. Christian’s mother was only just keeping it together. Kavindish could see it too. His forehead creased and he exchanged a worried glance with Antoinette.

Lilijana tossed her dark locks as she put the cell to her ear. “Have my helicopter ready to fly up to the northern house—I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“I’m coming with you,” Antoinette said.
If something had happened to Christian
…no she couldn’t think about that, not after just seeing Viktor die. It would be too much. She stopped, surprised at her feelings. They were parahuman—
a few weeks ago she would’ve celebrated their deaths. But not today.

“Do what you want human, just stay out of my way.” Lilijana swept out of the house and into the waiting car with Antoinette and Kavindish hot on her heels. An hour of uncomfortable silence later they landed at Christian’s estate and Lilijana led the way inside the house.

“Where is your master?” she demanded of the maid in the main hall.

“In his room, ma’am,” the timid girl said.

Lilijana turned to Kavindish. “Find out what they know, how long he’s been up there.”

Antoinette was left at the bottom to catch up to her on the third floor.

When Antoinette finally made it to the third floor, she found Lilijana pounding on a door. “Christian—do you hear me? It’s your mother. Open the door and let me in.” When no sound came from beyond, Lilijana’s confident mask finally slipped completely. She sighed and slumped against the door, her face sagged with fatigue. “What if he’s succumbed to the Dark Sleep?”

If Christian had fallen into a Dark Sleep, it could be impossible to wake him. For some reason the thought terrified her. “Break down the door.”

“That’s impossible. The door is reinforced, triple locked, and barred from the inside,” Kavindish said, joining them.

“What did the rest of the staff say?” Antoinette asked.

Kavindish shook his head. “He’s activated the sun shutters, which are also reinforced, and he hasn’t touched blood in nearly a week. I’ve organized a crew to come up and cut through the reinforcement but it’s going to take some time.”

“Surely there is some way. How would you send in his blood?” Antoinette asked.

Kavindish shrugged. “The dumbwaiter, but it’s not strong enough to hold a person.”

“It doesn’t need to if I can climb up the shaft. Get me a bag of blood and meet me in the room below.” To Lilijana
she said, “you stay here and keep trying to get through to him.”

To her surprise no one argued.

Lilijana grabbed her hand. “Thank you,” she said with a heartfelt expression.

Antoinette patted her hand then ran downstairs to find the dumbwaiter.

A few minutes later Kavindish appeared and handed her a small carry-bag. “I’ve sent the dumbwaiter to the kitchen and told the staff it’s not to be used. You should be able to climb unhindered.” He opened the small door in the wall.

She slung the bag diagonally over her shoulder and leaned in for a look. The shaft stretched into darkness above. It would be a tight squeeze, but doable. Antoinette sat on the edge and tested the cables then clenched the small flashlight Kavindish handed her between her teeth.

“The cables should hold you—it’s the motor that’s not very powerful,” Kavindish reassured her. “Good luck, miss.”

She pulled her legs into the shaft. It wasn’t a difficult climb, just cramped. Luckily she wasn’t claustrophobic. Antoinette soon reached the floor above and slid open the dumbwaiter door. The room beyond was gloomy and musty. A lamp sat on the table near the dumbwaiter and she switched it on then took off the carry-bag and dropped it on the table.

It was a mess. Furniture, floor, and walls were covered with maps and papers. The phone had been knocked to the floor and the busy tone rang out loud and constant. She placed the handset back in the cradle and put the phone on a small end table. A half dozen computer screens all showed different locations and flashing icons.

Steel covered the windows, and in the bedroom the sheets were disheveled, but no sign of Christian.

She walked to the door. “I’m in, but I haven’t found him yet. I need to find the keys for these locks before I can open the door.”

“Find Christian first.” Lilijana’s reply was muffled by the
thick metal. “He’ll have the keys on him. Check the bathroom.”

“Okay,” she yelled back.

She opened the bathroom door and found the light switch. Her breath caught in her throat as the light filled the room. Christian lay on the cold pale blue tiles curled in a fetal position, his pale skin tinged with gray.

Afraid it was already too late, she reached out a shaking hand to touch his face. It was icy beneath her fingertips.

Suddenly his eyes flung open and she felt more than heard the low rumbling growl. Instinctively she drew back, her heart clenching as she looked into his eyes. They were dull, almost colorless, and showed no sign of recognition. His lips drew back into a snarl, displaying fully extended fangs.

“Christian,” she said, fear cracking her voice.

He pulled himself up onto his elbows, his eyes focusing on her. His lips curled with his snarl, his eyes fixing on her with a feral hunger. He leapt and pinned her against the wall before she had time to react.

“So warm,” he growled against her throat, goose bumps prickled across her skin. “So hungry.”

His bloodless lips peeled back fangs sharp and gleaming in the bathroom light. He blinked and punched the switch, plunging them into darkness. His grip on her loosened and she felt his hands tremble.

Antoinette pushed him away with ease and heard him grunt as he hit the floor. He was as weak as a kitten.

“Antoinette?” he croaked.

She turned on the lights again and found him on his side.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“It’s been two weeks…”

“So?” he cut her off. “Just leave me alone.”

“You’ve been left alone and your mother and others are worried. It’s time to get up.” Angry at his apathy, she walked over and slapped him across the face. She wanted, no—needed—to shock him out of it. “While you lie here wal
lowing in self-pity, the trail of Viktor’s killer grows colder by the second.”

Christian winced more at the mention of Viktor’s name than he had when she hit him, then his face clouded in again. “Get out. You don’t know—”

“How dare you?” Her rising voice boomed in the small room. “What don’t I know? Let me see.” She tapped her chin with her forefinger. “Is it the feeling of powerlessness at watching someone you love die at the hands of another? Or is it the anger and frustration you feel for not being able to prevent it?” She squatted down to his level, eye to eye. “Don’t you dare tell me I don’t know. I know very well—because I live with it every day.”

His shoulders sagged, he dropped his head for a moment before looking back at her. “You’re right—” He let out his breath in a long sigh.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“Well—first, I have to get off this floor.”

He struggled into a sitting position. Antoinette took a deep breath and reached out to help him stand. As he leaned against her, the iciness of his body seeped through her clothing, chilling her to the bone. Christian looked at her and his nostrils flared. He leaned in a little more, his tortured eyes fixed on her throat as he licked his dry gray lips before gently pushing her away.

Antoinette smiled to cover the nervous flutter his hungry glance caused her stomach. “I’ve brought you some blood—it’s in the bedroom.”

“It’s no use,” he croaked.

She took a step away from him. “You’re a stubborn son of a bitch—”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” He turned to look at her. “You feel the chill of my body.” He placed his icy fingertips against her cheek. “The blood must be warm…it must be fresh.”

“Oh, so you must feed from—” She couldn’t bring herself to finish.

He stiffened slightly against her. “I’ll call the donor service.”

His hand hovered over the phone when an alarm from one of the computers began clanging—startling them both.

“Shit,” he said. “Finally!” Christian stumbled over and leaned against the desk.

Antoinette managed to shove an office chair behind him just as his trembling legs gave out altogether and he landed on the seat instead of the floor.

“What is it?” Antoinette watched the screens flash.

“I set some monitoring software in all the airports in and around the New York area. It uses the CCT network already in place.”

“CCT network?” she asked. Nici was the technology geek in the family.

“Closed circuit television. This software we have is able to plug into any network already in existence, and because we have footage of Andrew Williams, I programmed it to warn me if he entered an airport. I knew he would sooner or later.” Christian leaned closer to one of the screens. “And there he is.”

“Where—I can’t see him,” she said, leaning closer.

“The blond man there.” He pointed to a man, however it looked nothing like Williams. “The software takes height and the gait of a person. No matter what disguise they are wearing, it is difficult to hide those elements.”

The screen flicked to another camera as the man approached the ticket counter. This time she got a good look at his face. He’d lost the beard and bleached his hair, but those beady nervous eyes were the same as at the conference ball. It was definitely Andrew Williams.

Christian started typing, accessing the airline booking page. “Shit, Paris in two hours. I have to stop him…”

He looked about to pass out, Antoinette took a step closer.

He stood quickly and swayed on his feet as he braced himself against the desk, his breathing labored. “Got to get to the airport.”

Antoinette took one look at the sickly gray pallor of his skin. “You can’t go anywhere in your condition. You don’t have enough strength to even stand on your own.”

“I’ve got to stop Williams, he’s our best lead.” Again his eyes fixated on her throat before he dragged them back to her face.

Christian steadied himself. “Pass me that blood you brought, it might sustain me enough…” His legs buckled but she caught him before he fell.

He pushed her away and held up a restraining hand, then hung his head, unable to speak.

There’s no way a donor will get here in time, which means
…Before she could change her mind she said, “Feed on me.”

Christian looked at her sharply. She saw a momentary flicker in his expression before he shook his head.

“No.”

Antoinette put her hands on her hips and braced herself for a fight. “Why not? You need blood…I have plenty. Take what you need and we can go stop that bastard.”

He looked away. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Christian, we are wasting valuable time.” Her hand shook, and with her heart thumping loudly in her ears, she pulled back her hair. “Just do it.”

He stared at her for a moment longer, something shifted in his face.

Finally she said, “I need to find out what happened to my father and you’re the best chance I have of stopping the only lead we have.”

He picked up the phone and dialed. “It’s Christian. Get the chopper to my estate. I need to get to the international airport ASAP.”

Antoinette moved closer. With hands on either side of her face, Christian pulled her toward him until his cold lips touched hers. Warmth radiated from the pit of her stomach counteracting the chill of his body.

Slowly—painfully slow—he trailed kisses toward her
throat, leaving fire wherever his icy lips brushed her skin. Then he captured her mouth with his and kissed her with fierce hunger that had more than the need for blood behind it.