Night's Surrender (10 page)

After taking his leave from the Cordova home, Nick went to the cottage to look in on Abbey. She was lying on her side, sleeping soundly. Rane had called his little meeting well after his daughter had gone to bed.

After making sure all the windows were closed and the cottage was locked up tight, Nick decided to go to Auburn and see if he could learn anything about the mysterious woman. Nick was certain she was a hunter. Either that, or a vampire old enough to walk in the sun.

Shielding his presence from mortal eyes, he went from hotel to hotel, checking the records for guests who had arrived in the last few days.

He sensed no hunters, and no vampires in any of the hotels, but he hit pay dirt at a disreputable-looking motel at the south end of town. F. Meloni, Room 216. Nick had never met either of the McDonald sisters, but he had kept track of hunters and vampires alike for a lot of years.

Every instinct he possessed told him F. Meloni was related to Lou's sister, Cindy Meloni. The only question was how, and that was something he intended to find out.

Room 216 was located in the back of a long, L-shaped building. A black SUV was parked in front. A deep breath told Nick she was inside. And she wasn't alone. He wondered if she was actually related to the McDonalds. If so, using her real name wasn't too smart. Unless it was some kind of trap, which was a definite possibility since she didn't seem to be making any effort to hide her identity. Maybe Meloni hoped Rane's curiosity would draw him in.

“. . . meet there tomorrow night at the same time?” asked a deep male voice.

“Yes, inform the others.” The voice was female. Meloni?

“What if she doesn't have the books?” another man asked.

“Then she'll know where they are,” Meloni said. “We get the books. We take her head and his, and then . . .” Her voice trailed off. “Rivers, check out front.”

“Why? Did you hear something?”

“Just a feeling.”

Quietly cursing, Nick dissolved into mist. There always seemed to be a handful of hunters who had the ability to sense the presence of his kind. Apparently F. Meloni was one of them.

He hovered near the roof as the door opened and a tall blond man poked his head out. “There's no one here,” the hunter said, glancing left and right. “You're imagining things.”

Nick waited until the hunter closed the door before resuming his own shape.

For a moment, he considered breaking down the door and disposing of the lot of them. But this was Rane's fight, and Rane's territory.

Nick left the motel and strolled down the street. How many hunters were in town? How did they know about the books? Was this the same bunch hunting Pearl and Edna? If so, had the hunters somehow discovered that the old ladies had killed Lou McDonald and her sister? And if so, how? It was supposed to be a well-guarded secret.

Truthfully, he didn't care a whole hell of a lot what happened to any of them.

His only concern was keeping Abbey safe.

 

 

The lights were still on when Nick returned to the Cordova place. He paused outside the back door. Mara and Logan were still in the house. Judging from the heated conversation inside, no decision had been made regarding the elusive hunter.

Slipping through the door, Nick spent several minutes at Savanah's computer before sauntering into the living room.

“We didn't expect you back,” Rane said.

“I can leave.”

“Enough, you two!” Mara snapped. “Nick obviously came back for a reason. I suggest we listen to what he has to say. Nick?”

“I found your hunter.” He glanced at Savanah. “I looked her up on your computer. I hope you don't mind.”

“Of course not,” Savanah said, with a wave of her hand. “Who is she?”

“Turns out she's Cindy Meloni's daughter. Apparently she's decided to take up where her mother and her aunt left off. I don't know what she's planning, but from what I overheard, she's not alone. She's meeting with her cronies sometime tomorrow night.” Nick glanced at Savanah. “She wants your books.” He turned his attention to Rane. “And she wants your head. Savanah's, too.”

“Looks like you've got two choices,” Logan said to Rane. “Stay and fight, or get the hell out of Dodge until this blows over.”

“I'm not leaving my home or my horses!” Savanah declared. “I left Oregon without a word, but I'm not moving again until I'm good and ready. If this Meloni woman wants a fight, let her bring it on.”

“What about Abbey?” Nick asked quietly. “If you're determined to go toe-to-toe with Meloni and her followers, I don't think Abbey should be here.”

“Abbey.” Savanah's shoulders slumped. “Rane, Nick's right. She can't be here if there's a fight. It's too dangerous.”

“I can protect my daughter,” Rane said, bristling.

“What if you're wrong, Cordova? Are you willing to take that chance?”

“What are you suggesting?”

“No one asked me, but I've got an idea,” Mara said. “Why don't I take Abbey home with me? It's been a long time since we spent any time together. And I am her godmother, after all.”

Rane rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “What do you think, Savanah?”

“I think it's a great idea. We'll discuss it with her in the morning.”

“Now that you've got that settled,” Nick drawled, “there's just one more thing you all need to know. Wherever Abbey goes, I go.”

 

 

Abbey stood inside a circle of vampires. She turned slowly, glancing at each one—her godmother, Logan, Nick, her mother and father—and wondered what the heck was going on.

She paused in front of her father. “I just got here a few days ago. Why do I have to leave?”

“Because I'm your father and I think it's for the best. We don't know how many hunters there are, or what they're planning to do. But your mom and I will feel a lot better if you're out of harm's way. Hopefully, it will only be for a day or two.”

Abbey looked at Mara. “It isn't that I don't want to spend time with you,” she said. “But I just got settled here, and . . .” Her gaze drifted to Nick.

“It'll be all right, love,” he said, taking her hand in his. “I'll be there to keep you company.”

“You're coming with me?”

“Damn straight.”

“I guess that makes all the difference, doesn't it?” Rane muttered.

“You should be glad I'm here,” Nick replied. “She'll be with the two oldest vampires on the planet. If Mara and I can't keep her safe, I don't know who can.”

It was two hours after sunset when Abbey, Nick, Mara, and Logan arrived at their destination, luggage in hand.

Abbey stared at the gray stone castle looming above them like some prehistoric monster. “Where are we? I thought we were going to your place in California.”

“Transylvania,” Mara said cheerfully. “I decided the books—and you—would be safer here.”

“Transylvania!” Abbey stared at Nick. “Did you know we were coming here?”

“Nope. Hell of a place, though.” Nick shook his head. The castle had to be over a thousand years old. He chuckled softly. It didn't take much of an imagination to picture Dracula peering out of one of the narrow, leaded windows on the second floor.

A wave of Mara's hand opened the massive oak door. A fire sparked to life in the enormous hearth. Added light came from a number of fat white candles in wrought-iron sconces.

Abbey followed Mara and Logan inside, stopped when she realized Nick was still outside. “Aren't you coming in?”

“I guess that's up to her.” Nick jerked his chin toward Mara, who stood in the foyer, a faint smile twitching her lips. “Well?”

“Niccola, you may enter.”

“Thank you. Sire.” Sarcasm dripped off the last word.

He stopped just inside the door, brow furrowed, nostrils flaring.

Mara and Logan had also gone still.

Logan took a deep breath, then muttered, “What the hell are
they
doing here?”

Abbey dropped her suitcase beside the door, then glanced around, wondering who he was talking about. There was no one else in the room but the four of them.

Or so she'd thought, until a tall, angular woman with shoulder-length, snow-white hair stepped out from behind a half-open door on the far side of the room.

“We . . . we're sorry,” she stammered, “but we had nowhere else to go.” Reaching behind her, she tugged another woman into view.

Abbey glanced at the newcomer. She was shorter than her companion, a trifle plump, with curly red hair that was obviously dyed. Both wore jeans and sneakers and fake flowers in their hair; the tall one wore a bright green shirt, the short one sported a multicolored sweater. Abbey guessed the women to be in their mid-seventies. They could only be Edna and Pearl, she thought, the women her uncle Rafe had turned during the War.

Heaving a sigh of exasperation, Mara moved into the living room. Dropping her suitcase beside the sofa, she sat down, crossed her legs, and glared at the elderly women, who remained on the far side of the room.

As if that would protect them, Abbey thought.

Nick stood near the hearth, his suitcase at his feet, his arms folded over his chest.

Logan dropped his luggage beside Abbey's. Abbey fidgeted beside him. “Pearl's the tall one,” he whispered. “Edna's the redhead.”

Abbey nodded, her attention on Mara, who looked none too happy with the intruders.

“I take it you've heard that you're being hunted,” Mara said, tapping her fingers on the arm of the sofa.

“Yes,” Edna answered. “Derek told us. He said we could stay here.”

“Derek? When did you see my son?”

“He saved our lives not long ago when a hunter captured us. The man wanted our cure for his daughter.”

“Did you give it to him?”

“Of course.”

“Did it work?” Nick asked.

“We didn't wait around to find out, dear,” Pearl said.

“You two are very popular all of a sudden,” Logan mused. “Why is that?”

Edna slid a glance at Pearl. “I have no idea.”

“Are you two hiding something?” Mara asked sharply.

“What makes you think that?” Pearl asked.

“Because you both look guilty as hell.”

The two elderly vampires exchanged glances.

“They've got two men here in the castle somewhere,” Nick said. “Can't you smell them?”

Mara lifted her head, her eyes widening as she caught their scent. “You brought two mortals here? Without my permission? And locked them in the dungeon?”

“We were bored,” Edna said sheepishly.

Nick laughed.

Logan shook his head.

Mara glared at the two women. “Get your boy toys out of my house. Now!”

As Abbey watched Edna and Pearl hurry out of the room, she wondered if her life could get any more bizarre.

Later, while Mara, Logan, Nick, and the old ladies went hunting, Abbey explored the castle. She wandered slowly around the great hall, running her fingers over the ancient gray stones. The windows, set high in the walls, were mere slits.

The biggest fireplace she had ever seen took up most of one wall, the mantel so high over her head, she couldn't reach it. Several medieval weapons hung above the fireplace—a mace, a lance, a long bow. A pair of sofas and several overstuffed chairs—all covered in dark red damask—were grouped in front of the hearth. A suit of armor stood in one corner. Large rugs covered the floor; tapestries hung from the walls.

Several doors led to other rooms. Some were vacant, one was a kitchen outfitted with another oversize fireplace. A cauldron hung from a tripod in the center of the hearth. A high wooden table she guessed was used for preparing food stood in the middle of the floor. A rack on the wall near the fireplace held a variety of odd-looking utensils and several large iron pots.

A narrow, winding staircase led from the great hall to the upper floors. The first room on the left at the top of the stairs was dominated by a bed with red velvet hangings. A rosewood wardrobe that was surely an antique stood against one wall. A matching four-drawer chest covered with a lace cloth flanked the bed.

The next three doors were open, the rooms unfurnished. A fourth room was locked. She found a good-sized storage closet between two of the bedrooms, but a bathroom was nowhere to be found.

Nick was waiting for her when she returned to the main floor. “Where are the others?” Abbey asked, glancing around.

He shrugged. “I don't know. Still hunting, I guess. I came back early because I was missing you.”

“Are Edna and Pearl going to be staying here too?”

“For the time being.”

“They're nothing like I expected.”

“They're unique among our kind. No doubt about that. Mara said you should take the first room on the left at the top of the stairs.”

The only furnished one, Abbey remembered. “What about you?”

“I haven't decided whether I want to rest here during the day.”

“Oh. I assumed you would be staying here.”
With me.

“Come on,” he said, picking up her suitcase. “Let's go get you settled.”

Hand in hand, they climbed the narrow, stone steps to the second floor. Nick bowed her through the bedroom door, whistled softly as he followed her inside. “Nice.” He held up her suitcase. “Where do you want this?”

“I don't know. I guess on the bed, for now.”

“I've lived in houses smaller than this room,” he remarked, strolling across the floor to glance out the window.

“It's very nice, except there's no bathroom,” Abbey said. “Not in here. Nor anywhere in the castle.”

He pointed at the chamber pot under the bed. “Medieval toilet.”

She grimaced. “Seriously?”

“There's probably a garderobe around here somewhere.”

“A what?”

“It's a small room with a hole in the floor. Sort of like a toilet. It empties into a cesspit somewhere outside the castle.”

“Sounds kind of crude.”

“No worse than an outhouse,” Nick said, shrugging. “And unlike a chamber pot, you don't have to empty it.”

“What about showering?”

“No showers, but I imagine there's an old wooden tub somewhere.”

“Talk about primitive,” she muttered.

“I doubt if we'll be here more than a few days,” Nick said, drawing her into his arms. “It shouldn't take your old man long to settle things with that hunter one way or the other.”

“Do you really think killing the hunter is the only answer?”

He shrugged. “It's the easiest solution.”

“So, if it was up to you, you would kill her?”

“If it was necessary to protect you? Damn straight.” Abbey gazed up at him, her expression solemn. “Have you killed a lot of people, Nick?”

“The truth?”

“Always.”

“There were a lot of casualties in the beginning. I told you before that I didn't know I could feed without killing. But I had a lot of rage back then. Being a new vampire, high on blood and drunk on preternatural power, sometimes it was hard to hold back. You wouldn't have been safe with me back then.”

“Am I now?”

“What do you think?”

“I don't want to think.” Closing her eyes, she buried her face against his shoulder.

“Would you rather I lied to you?” he asked quietly.

“No.” She blew out a deep breath. Somehow, she was going to have to come to terms with his past.

 

 

Nick took her sightseeing the next day. Transylvania was a town where myth and legend seemed to come together. Those who believed in vampires had long held Romania as the birthplace of the Undead; many were convinced that Vlad the Impaler had been a vampire.

They went to see Bran Castle, which was located in Brasov. Most people referred to it as Dracula's Castle. She thought it aptly named.

“There are a couple of other castles rumored to be the home of Bram Stoker's Dracula,” Nick remarked as they toured the place.

Abbey nodded. The castle, a national monument and landmark, had been turned into a museum that displayed works of art and furniture that had once belonged to Queen Marie. Abbey especially enjoyed the displays of costumes, shields, and suits of armor.

A secret passageway connected the first and third floors. Finding themselves alone, Nick drew Abbey into his arms.

She grinned up at him. “I'll bet there aren't very many girls who can say they toured Dracula's Castle on the arm of a real vampire.”

“I think you'd win that bet. You're probably the first girl about to get kissed here by a real vampire too,” he murmured, and kissed her, there in the heart of Dracula's Castle.

 

 

Later that night, after giving Abbey one last kiss before tucking her into bed, Nick sought out Edna and Pearl. He found them downstairs in what had been the servant's quarters. It was a large room with four narrow cots, a small table, and a couple of chairs.

The two old ladies sat cross-legged on one of the cots, wineglasses in hand, watching a horror movie on a portable player.

Nick shook his head. They were a sight, clad in flannel pajama bottoms, gaudy shirts, and pink bunny slippers.

They regarded him warily when he entered the room.

“Evenin', ladies.”

Edna smiled tentatively. “Mr. Desanto.”

“Just Nick.”

“Did you need something?” Pearl asked.

“That infamous cure of yours. Do you think it would work on me?”

“You!” Edna exclaimed. “You've got to be kidding!”

“No. You might say I'm dead serious.”

“But, why?” Pearl asked.

“Because of Abbey,” Edna surmised. “That's it, isn't it? She doesn't want to be a vampire, so you want to be human again.” She sighed dramatically. “That's so romantic.”

Nick fixed her with a hard stare. “Can you help me or not?”

“Of course,” Edna said.

Head tilted to one side, Pearl regarded him a moment. “You know it might not work, you being so old, and all. We've really only had success with fledglings.”

“I understand all that.”

Edna fidgeted with the hem of her shirt with her free hand. “And if it doesn't work, there won't be any hard feelings, right?”

“Right. How long will it take to prepare?”

“About a week, dear. We need to gather the ingredients, and then it has to cook for at least forty-eight hours.”

“We don't have any left from the last batch,” Edna added. “Of course, even if we did, it wouldn't work on you. We'll need to triple the potency.”

“Quadruple, maybe,” Pearl said.

Nick braced his shoulder against the doorjamb. “Why are all those hunters after you?”

The women exchanged uneasy glances.

“I can always force you to tell me,” he remarked.

Pearl shot him a disproving glance. “As far as we know, it's because of the McDonald sisters.”