Pool of Crimson (5 page)

“I can’t help you,” I whispered in an agonized plea through clenched teeth. I stared up to the soft shimmering light hovering above me. A single spirit stood, well, floated before me. She was an older woman, blurred around the edges like a smudged chalk outline. She had long white hair, the color of freshly driven snow that floated freely down to her ankles, as if alive. The deep lines of age around her mouth spoke of years of hardships and sacrifice. Her penetrating ice-cold blue eyes glowed vibrantly in the darkness.

I stood as best I could on shaky legs and faced her. Her gaze focused on me, and the corners of her mouth turned up in an approving smile.

“I can’t help you,” I said again, only this time, my voice was solid and sounded like me.

That’s more like it.

A breath of acceptance washed over me, and my heart slowed to a manageable pace. I didn’t feel like it was going to beat out of my chest anymore. That was a good thing.

The spirit cocked her head and shrugged her shoulder as if to say, you can’t blame me for trying.

I breathed a sigh of relief as the fog of spirits cleared out, leaving me satisfyingly alone in my brain. She faded quickly once the others were gone, but I was left with the question as to why there were so many. I took a few deep breaths to steady myself before gingerly stepping forward to test my shaky legs. I surveyed the room around me when my knees didn’t give out.
Yeah for me!

The mansion was old, old enough to have an actual door to the lower levels instead of a trap door. The attic had probably been servants’ quarters when it was first built so there had to be a door somewhere. I just had to find it in the dark and keep from tripping and making enough noise to wake the undead again.
I could do that, right?

Luckily, the attic was clear of debris, and I navigated it easily. The door down to the lower level creaked as I opened it, but there was little I could do about that.

My parents’ house was filled with doors that were over a hundred years old with the original brass hinges, and those doors creaked no matter what I did. Often they didn’t even fit in the doorjamb due to swelling. This one was no different.

I peeked out from behind the door at the bottom of the narrow stairs. A long hallway stretched out before me with five or six doors lining the right side and a banister on the other overlooking the two-story foyer. I couldn’t see down the rest of the hallway beyond the large grand winding staircase. It was too dark.

The doorbell rang ominously with a flat dull sound that filled the open foyer with a dead tone. The sound set my teeth on edge as the sour note turned my stomach.

The group from the club, led by Smarmy and the Ebony Goddess filed in below to a room just beyond the staircase and outside my line of vision.

Life sure is easier when dinner’s delivered?

Someone turned the music up, and the sound of glasses clinking from behind the closed door faded as the party kicked into gear.

I made my way along the wall to the staircase. I stayed in the shadows and away from the soft light given off by the dimmed large-drop crystal chandelier hanging in the foyer. I crossed the hallway quickly and took the first few steps down and stopped. Another door opened off the foyer, and light from an office flooded the ground floor, illuminating the entire foyer. The downstairs was out for me. I couldn’t cross the foyer to the party below without being noticed by the four people in the office.

The music from the party softened to almost a whisper as the doors closed on Smarmy and the group from the club. Laughter and glasses clinking echoed in the empty foyer. I pressed myself against the wall of the stairs as flat as I could. I needed to get out of sight, but my curiosity nagged at me. I wanted to see what was going on in that office. I slunk down a few more steps, moving slowly around the curve of the stairs until I could see inside the open office door. My heart was pounding furiously in my chest. I just hoped no one noticed. My sweating palms slid easily against the smoothness of the wall as I stopped just short of the curve in the stairs.

An older man sat behind the desk. He had mostly silver hair with only a few remnants of the black his hair had once been. He had a rugged face, like he’d lived most of his life in Montana on the back of a horse, or was a relative of the Marlboro man from all of those billboards in the 80’s. His unusually pale skin and the cold rush of icy power gave him away as vampire. Another man flanked him and stood motionless at his right. The second vampire’s jaw was hard as granite. His gaze remained fixed, without movement or even a blink. He stood creepy still. A person could forget he was even there until he killed you.

He was pale with black hair the color of coal, the kind of black that shimmers in the light like vinyl and gives off the slightest tint of blue.

I knew him the moment I’d seen him. He was just as intriguing here as he’d been in the gallery.

In the gallery, he was fluid and graceful with a playful smile on his face. As he stood next to the Marlboro man, he seemed withdrawn and as hard as stone, untouchable. My vampire statue wore dark denim jeans with a crisp white shirt, un-tucked, under a heather gray sweater that appeared soft, like cashmere. He looked good, really good and there was a slight twinge of shame as my heart raced at the sight of him.

What’s wrong with you? He’s not attractive. He’s a vampire. He’s NOT attractive!

The Ebony Goddess from the club lounged on a brown leather club sofa against the far wall of the office, like she didn’t have a care in the world. A fourth vampire in the center of the room stood before the desk, trembling, his head bowed and his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

“You have failed me again,” the Marlboro Man said, severing each word cleanly from the next. “I should leave you to the sun. But unfortunately, no one would see it. You have endangered us for the last time.”

Ebony rose from the couch lightning quick and swung a sword the length of her arm swiftly through the air, severing the tongue lashing recipient’s head, which toppled from his body to the floor with a hard bounce.

The thick splat of his blood combined with the head hitting the floor turned my stomach. His body collapsed to the floor in a lump of limp body parts that slowly shriveled to an unidentifiable mass of withered flesh over bone.

With an aristocratic flick of his hand, the Marlboro Man motioned to Ebony. “Leave his body in the chamber for everyone to see before you dispose of him permanently. He must serve as an example,” he said, waving the entire situation away as if it was nothing more than a mess to be cleaned up.

The Ebony Goddess moved without further orders, gathering the pieces of the decomposing body into her arms, then carrying them away like common trash.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I fought back the gasp lodged in my throat.

SHIT! I can’t let them find me.

The two men were quiet, almost statue still, waiting. When Ebony reentered the room now empty handed, the Marlboro Man addressed them both. “I don’t like having to explain to the Ahriman group what happened to their emissary. Did your pet at least get what she carried?” he asked, his voice thick with venom and his eyes as sharp as daggers.

“Yes, Master, he did,” she snapped out quickly. “He also gave me a description of the woman.”

“We know who the woman is!” Marlboro Man bellowed. “It’s the Blushing Death. It’s always the Blushing Death. Always the Blushing Death!” A growl reverberated in his throat as he slammed his hand down on the desk’s surface. The sound of wood cracking and snapping beneath his fist rang out through the foyer. The Ebony Goddess jumped, but my vampire beside him didn’t move a muscle. The Marlboro Man took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, then his jacket. “We cannot make any more mistakes. We are too close to the ceremony for
any
complications.”

Who is the Blushing Death?

“We will see to it,” my vampire from the gallery said without emotion. His voice was flat with no cadence as he stood beside the Marlboro Man in his marble beauty.

“No more. The Blushing Death has been a thorn in my side for too long,” the Marlboro Man snapped.

“I was told,” Ebony Goddess sneered with malice in her voice, “that Patrick here got quite close to her at the gallery.” She smirked like she’d just told on her brother.

Oh Shit! The Blushing Death. Are they talking about me?

“Is that true?” the Marlboro Man asked, incredulous. “What can you tell me of her?”

“She’s ...” My vampire paused for a long moment. A small smile crested his full lips. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and his eyes held the slight twinkle I remembered from the gallery.

“Patrick?” the Marlboro Man prompted.

Patrick froze, replacing the softening of his shoulders with the hard, statuesque form he’d maintained throughout the meeting.

“She’s only a human. I don’t believe she’s a real threat,” he said with confidence.

My jaw tightened in anger, and I balled my hands into tight fists.

I’m NOT A THREAT! We’ll see about that, asshole!

“You don’t? She killed an emissary of the Ahriman group, and you don’t think she’s a threat?” Marlboro Man asked, brow raised.

“She picks off the weak,” Patrick said, smug confidence dripping from his tone. Then a smile reached his eyes as his face remained stone cold sober. “She’s actually doing us a favor. Maybe you should send her some flowers to thank her, Dominique, for doing your job for you.” It was impossible not to hear the sarcasm in his voice.

Did he just make a joke?

By their expressions and stunned silence, Marlboro Man and Ebony Goddess were just as surprised as I was at Patrick’s comment.

“Enough!” Marlboro Man bellowed. “We must be extremely careful. We still need fresh blood and the stone before we can do anything.”

Patrick cleared his throat and looked away. The Ebony Goddess released a deep breath as her shoulders squared and she clasped her hands behind her back in tight fists.

“Is there something I need to know?” Marlboro Man asked, anger heavy in his words.

“No, Master.”

“Her servant lost it,” Patrick said, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

The Marlboro Man rose from his desk with the controlled precision of a predator. His careful steps and the hard line of his stiff body spoke of caged violence. His power rippled through the house like a winter storm with hurricane force winds. His hand shot out and struck her across the face. He moved faster than my eyes could follow, and I held in a gasp of surprise. Now was not the time to give myself away. Ebony Goddess hit the floor in a flat thud of flesh against hardwood.

“Find it!” he forced through clenched teeth. “Now, get out.”

Ebony Goddess crawled to the door, over the threshold, then rose awkwardly to her feet. When she didn’t collapse, she continued on and didn’t look back. Patrick followed her to the door, then shut it softly behind him with a soft click of the lock.

Movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention. A vampire had started up the stairs from another room off the foyer and was headed my way, quickly. I crept back up around the corner at the top of the stairs as quietly as I could and hoped to God that the vampire hadn’t seen me.

Maybe he’d go the other way.

I sat, crouched in the shadows of the darkened hallway and prayed he would pass me by. I held my breath and sat motionless in the dark as his footsteps grew closer and closer to the top of the stairs and to me. I was afraid to draw my knife, knowing that he would hear the slick sound of metal sliding against leather. His footfalls echoed in my ears like a bell tolling in an empty churchyard, making blood pump through my veins and pound in my ears.

I actually felt the bastard stop by the shift in the air, the twinge of knots in my gut, and the cold prickle of power along my skin. His cologne filled the air like body odor in a high school locker room; musky and acrid, burning my nose. I tried not to breathe as my eyes watered.

I heard an audible intake of air and froze.

He smelled me.

He turned his head slowly in my direction, a pleased expression curving the corner of his mouth and violence in his stance. His predator eyes shimmered in the almost nonexistent light.

Shit!

He was on me before I saw him move. He yanked me from the floor, twisting me and slammed my back against his chest. He wrapped his hand crushingly around my throat and threw his other arm across my chest like a vice, then pulled me tight against him, crushing me. His erection pressed hard against my ass while his breath grazed my cheek and his fangs were sharp against the skin of my neck.

“What’ve I got here? A present?” he asked, a malicious tone in his voice. “I think I’m gonna open it.”

He ripped my feet from the ground and dragged me down the hallway. I tried to struggle. I thrashed and kicked as hard as I could, even as my feet dangled off the ground. I couldn’t move my arms to pry his hand away from my throat. I only connected a kick with the vampire’s body about once every three times, not nearly enough to hurt him or get him to let me go. I was just exhausting myself.

“I like ‘em with a little fight in ‘em. Maybe I’ll let you scream before I kill you. I think I might like the sound of that.”

He released the hold he had across my chest, and my hands went to the grip he had around my throat. I dug my fingers in between his grip and my throat, scratching my own skin with my nails in my desperate attempt to be free.

The soft click of a lock filled my ears, and all the warning bells in my head went off. My heart pounded ferociously against my chest and adrenaline shot through my body. I tried elbowing him in the gut and kicking him in the shins. I tried anything I could think of to get him to let me go. If he got me in that room, I knew I was dead. I also knew that it would take a long time for me to get dead.

He didn’t even flinch as my boot heel connected with his kneecap. He whipped me around, slamming my legs on the doorframe as he threw me into the room. I was airborne, weightless, for a split second as the wind whipped around me and landed hard on my stomach on a bed, slamming into the oversized oak headboard.