Read Raphael Online

Authors: D. B. Reynolds

Raphael (5 page)

BOOK: Raphael
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"Excellent. We will begin tonight. The ‘trail,’ as you humans put it, is already quite cold. I was out of town at the time, and the constraints imposed on us by our nature have conspired to delay this investigation far longer than I would have preferred. Lonnie?"

Lonnie jumped like a frog, straightening from the corner where'd he'd hidden himself. “Sire?"

"Bring Ms. Leighton to my estate.” He glanced at Cynthia. “I suspect she'll be more comfortable in your car than in mine, and you can drive her back when we've finished."

"Of course, Sire."

Raphael stood. “Your questions will all be answered, Ms. Leighton. I look forward to working with you."

Duncan opened the door and stepped through and Cynthia glimpsed a number of vague, shadowy shapes lurking outside her office. They coalesced into a phalanx of bodyguards as soon as Raphael appeared, surrounding him as he went directly to a long, low limousine waiting with the door open.

Cynthia got up and closed the door, taking a moment to catch her breath before shooting a furious look at Lonnie as she walked back to her desk. “Thanks for that, Lonnie."

He shrugged and smoothed his hair back with hands that were shaking worse than hers. “I had no choice, Cyn. When Raphael says jump, I say, “Please don't hurt me, Master."

She huffed a disdainful breath and sat down, leaning back in her chair. This whole situation was bad. Number one, she didn't think meeting the head vamp was promising for her future health. There was a reason no one knew anything about vamp society; it was because they wanted it that way. On the other hand, she was intrigued. Life had been pretty boring lately; tracking down dead ancestors and spying on cheating spouses was lucrative, but not very exciting. Hell, before tonight, she hadn't pulled her gun outside the range in ... shit, six months maybe. B.o.r.i.n.g.

"So who's this Alexandra? His wife or something?"

"Not a wife, no. Vamps don't usually marry each other. Besides...” He moved closer, casting a guilty look over his shoulder, as if Raphael could somehow still be listening. “A vamp was killed when they took her, permanently killed. An old one named Matias. Rumor has it he and Alexandra were longtime lovers, and I know for a fact neither one of them took blood from the vein. If you know what I mean."

She gave him a blank look, then wrinkled her face in disgust. “Oh, yuck!"

"Don't knock it ‘til you've tried it, Cyn."

She made a dismissive noise. “So vamps don't marry, huh? Not up to eternal fidelity?"

Lonnie shook his head. “No nutritional value.” He laughed at the look on her face. “You ready to go?"

"Why does it have to be tonight?"

Lonnie's usual easy personality returned. “Raphael said tonight, so tonight it is, babe. I'm only the chauffeur."

"Not my chauffeur, you're not. I'll take my own car. I learned
that
much in high school. And don't ever call me babe again."

Lonnie gave her a pained look. “Okay, but follow my lead, Cyn. I'm serious. His security guys are a bunch of paranoid fucks and scary as hell."

"Gosh, Lonnie, you make it sound so inviting.” Cynthia gave her own grin. “I can hardly wait."

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Seven

Cynthia followed Lonnie down the coast, wondering if vampires ever got cold. She had the heat going against the damp night air, but there was Lonnie, top down on his Porsche 911, his too-long hair blowing back from his face as they drove along at well over the speed limit. They passed through Malibu's downtown area and continued along the cliffs where the really expensive estates were tucked away behind discreet gates. If you didn't know better, you could drive right by several multimillion dollar mansions and not even know they were there. Lonnie hit the brakes and made a sharp left turn off the highway and onto a private drive nearly hidden by a hedge of towering oleander bushes. Cynthia followed, curious. This estate was a sizable chunk of very expensive property. She passed it nearly every day on her way to and from the office and had never once considered it might be owned by vamps. Not that they put out signs or anything, but it made her wonder how many other vampires lived in the neighborhood with no one the wiser.

She slowed down as the narrow drive wound out towards the ocean, keeping an eye on Lonnie's red taillights. The oleanders had given way to a dense grove of trees—torrey pines, live oaks, ironwood, even the sharp tang of eucalyptus scented the night air. Tangled undergrowth crowded the smoothly paved road, while the closely packed trees arched overhead to form an almost seamless canopy and seal out the night sky. There was no lighting along the road at all, only the random bits of moonlight that managed to make it through the thick foliage overhead. Vampires had excellent night vision; they'd have no trouble with the stygian lane. Humans on the other hand...

About a hundred yards in, Lonnie's taillights abruptly disappeared. Cyn's heart did a little jump of surprise, but as she drew closer, she saw he'd actually turned, pulling up to the entrance of a heavy steel gate set into a thick stucco wall about ten feet high. Cynthia couldn't see much, but in the wash of her headlights, the wall looked more beige than white. Sandstone maybe. One of those designer color names for what was really plain old beige. Two guards approached Lonnie's car and she noticed two more standing at each side of the gate. All of the guards wore dark, SWAT style clothing and were armed with heavy automatic weapons. Tight security. Was it always like this, or had whatever happened caused the vamps to bring in the troops? Did she really want to know? Maybe not.

Lonnie said something to one of the guards, who glanced up at Cyn, studying her in the faint light. She swallowed a gasp when his eyes flashed almost yellow in the glow of her headlights, and she felt her heart beat a little bit faster. She'd met with plenty of vamps. Talked to even more of them on the phone. But this was the veritable lion's den. Raphael was old ... really old and really, really powerful. He had probably held this territory for longer than she'd been alive. Hell, longer than her grandparents had been alive. She wondered abruptly if there were any other humans here tonight. Would she be the only one? Not a pleasant thought.

Whatever Lonnie said to the guards, it worked. The big steel gate rolled back and the Porsche's engine revved noisily as it bumped over the threshold. Cynthia followed closely, careful to keep her eyes looking forward, but keenly aware of the vamp guards’ scrutiny as she went by. The big gate rumbled closed behind her, and she began to see some low-profile lighting, first along the drive and then throughout carefully landscaped and beautifully maintained grounds. She breathed a sigh of relief, only to suck it back in a silent “oh” when the big house came into view.

She'd expected something gothic, or maybe faux Southern with moss hanging from a columned front porch. Instead, Raphael's house was a modern architect's dream, with the sweet, clean lines of the southwest. It was modest by Malibu standards, the main house maybe 8000 square feet with two smaller outbuildings and a long, six bay garage. The structure was two-storied, with the second floor set far back, leaving a broad, high terrace open to the stars and sea. Cyn figured there was also a basement level she couldn't see, because, after all, vampires lived here.

In sharp contrast to the darkened approach from the highway, the house was almost saturated with light, carefully designed to display the architectural highlights, as well as the many smaller balconies and alcoves along its length. A full-sized infinity pool took up one entire side yard, with even more light shining up from within its depths. Cyn wondered if vampires took midnight swims. No umbrellas, she noticed. Which made sense if you thought about it.

The drive rolled down a slight hill to a simple entrance, with stairs leading up to a set of elegantly glassed double doors on a wide, covered porch. Vampire guards were visible here, all along the courtyard, and even more could be seen in constant movement in and around the various buildings. Now that she knew what to look for, Cyn spotted dark profiles on balconies and even hulking beneath the overhang along the pool.

Guards surrounded her vehicle as soon as she came to a stop. Cyn focused on breathing while she waited for Lonnie to pry himself out of his Porsche and make his way over to her SUV.

"Come on, Cyn.” He tried to open her car door, then knocked cheerfully on her window when he discovered it was locked. “They're just having some fun. The master's expecting you, don't worry."

Master. That was twice Lonnie had referred to Raphael as “master.” It was creepy in a Renfield, fly-eating sort of way and Cyn began to worry about what she'd find behind the bright lights and pretty architecture of the vampire's lair. She turned off the engine and gathered her backpack, along with her courage, then opened the door, only to have one of the guards hold out his hand for her keys.

She clutched them close, her gaze never leaving the guard.

"Think of it as valet parking,” Lonnie said in a soothing voice. He pried the keys from her hand and tossed them to the guard. “What? You think Lord Raphael does a business in chop-shop car parts or something? Relax, Cyn."

"Easy for you to say,” she muttered. She turned to follow him up the stairs, then stuttered to a halt as a suit-clad vampire came through the front doors, escorting two women and a man who were obviously out of it, either amazingly drunk ... or something else.

"Lonnie,” she murmured.

He followed her gaze to the stumbling trio and shrugged. “They're all volunteers, Cyn. You know about the beach house. People beg for the chance to come out here and ... uh...” He was plainly searching for a way of phrasing it that wouldn't offend. “You know,” he said, finally, shaking his head in exasperation.

Cynthia did know. She knew about the women, and men, who willingly, hell eagerly, offered themselves up for the experience of having a vampire feed from them. It was like a drug for some of them, supposedly a sexual high like no ordinary human could ever offer. And like any drug, it had its addicts. “How often do they come out here?” she asked.

"The same ones? Not often. But we bring volunteers out here a couple times a week. Men and women, Cyn. Not only for Lord Raphael, but his guards, too, the ones who can't leave the estate because they're on duty or whatever."

"How come no one knows about this estate?” she asked, changing the subject. “I mean, I drive by here every day and I never even suspected it was like command central for whatever you call Raphael ... King of the Vampires? Prince of the Blood?” She dragged out the last word, making it sound like Bela Lugosi's Dracula.

"Fuck!” Lonnie grabbed her arm and jerked her close, his eyes darting glances at the surrounding guards. “Don't say shit like that, Cyn,” he hissed. “Christ, you'll get us both killed, and I mean for good this time. Listen, you call him ‘my lord’ or ‘Lord Raphael,’ okay? That's it. Think of him as royalty."

"Yeah, well, he's not
my
lord, this is America, you know."

Lonnie laughed almost hysterically. “I can't believe this. I'm gonna die for sure.” He gave her a pleading look. “Raphael owns this territory, Cyn. Please don't insult him. I like living forever."

Cynthia rolled her eyes and blew out a disgusted breath. “You worry too much, Lonnie. Come on, let's get this over with."

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Eight

As they stepped into Raphael's house, Lonnie grabbed her elbow again, but Cynthia pulled away with a sharp tug. She didn't like anyone grabbing her, and especially not in a situation like this.

The space inside the double doors was wide open and high ceilinged, with big sliding windows overlooking the brightly lit pool on one side. There was an enormous chandelier overhead, but it was unlit; the only light was whatever filtered in from the pool area, its lambent blue glow bouncing off the marble floors, casting random shadows and doing little to dispel the darkness.

"Cynthia,” Lonnie hissed in her ear. “Remember. Raphael's like royalty, so when you address him, you say ‘my lord’ or ‘my lord Raphael'."

Cynthia looked at him from the corner of her eye, distracted by the shadows which had begun to move. She jerked away from him, freeing her hand to rest on the gun under her jacket. “Give it a rest, Lonnie!” she snapped.

"Yes, Lonnie, do give it a rest."

Cynthia swung her head around at the light, feminine voice coming from directly in front of her. She took an involuntary step back, surprised—and worried—that the vampire had gotten so close without her realizing it. The woman smiled, slowly revealing long, white fangs pressed into a perfectly lipsticked lower lip. The lipstick was a deep, rich red, which Cyn thought was a bit of overkill, especially with the pasty white skin and icy blond hair. The suit was nice, though. Double breasted charcoal with slim trousers that looked good on her in spite of a body that had spent a little too much time in a gym somewhere.

"Elke! This is Cynthia Leighton. The master is expecting her.” Lonnie was striving for his usual easy manner, but Cynthia figured if she could smell his fear then the vampire sure as hell could smell it better.

"I know who she is,” Elke purred, closing the distance between them. She walked a small circle around Cynthia, ignoring Lonnie as he hustled out of her way. She was shorter than Cyn by several inches and had to look up to meet her eyes. “So, you're a private investigator."

"So, you're a vampire,” Cynthia responded dryly. “What's with the shadow games? Or is this the usual vampire greeting. You'll have to forgive me. I'm not up on your customs."

Elke froze, her pale gray eyes staring unblinking like some sort of robot whose power had been turned off. Cynthia watched, fascinated in spite of herself, wondering if she was supposed to be afraid. Well, okay, she
was
afraid, terrified actually, but she'd be damned if she was going to let this freaky chick know that. Of course, the vamp could probably hear Cyn's heart trying to break its way out of her chest, but, damn. Courage was standing your ground in spite of your fears, right? Only a fool wasn't afraid when faced with imminent and violent death. She choked back a laugh, knowing once she started, she might never stop.

Heavy footsteps thudded against the slick marble floor, and suddenly the chandeliers that had only moments before reflected nothing but moonlight were brightly lit, filling the foyer with a clear, white light. The new arrival must have flicked the switch. That was the logical explanation, but Cynthia glanced at Elke, who gave her a slow, knowing smile, before blinking once and taking two deliberate steps backward. There were rumors of vampire mind powers, rumors that frightened Cyn more than any threat of physical violence. Her mind was her own, the one place she was unassailable, secure. The possibility anyone could mess with her mind, could make her see and feel things that weren't real ... really pissed her off.

"Did you take her weapon?” Cynthia shifted her gaze from the treacherous Elke to the newcomer ... make that newcomers. Two Sumo-looking male vampires had joined the party, both pushing seven feet tall, with broad chests and arms twice as thick as Cyn's thighs. What was it with these guys anyway? What was the point of eternal life if you spent every hour in a fucking gym? These two looked enough alike to be brothers, maybe even twins, and both wore the male equivalent of Elke's elegant charcoal suit; even their long, black hair was tied in identical tails at the napes of their necks.

The one who'd spoken approached Cynthia and held out his hand, palm up. Cynthia looked up at his uncompromising face, then down at the enormous paw outspread in front her, and sighed. After first showing the vamp her empty hands, she reached slowly under her jacket and removed the Glock from its shoulder holster. Holding it with two fingers, she placed it on the vamp's hand and glanced back up at him.

"I'll get that back, right?"

For a moment, she thought the big vampire wasn't going to answer her. But as his thick fingers closed over the gun, making it look like a child's toy, he said, “When you leave."

"Thanks."

"Well, now that's over with,” Elke said with obvious boredom.

The big vamp turned so fast, Cynthia didn't see him move. One moment he was in front of her and the next he was five feet away, glowering down at the much smaller Elke.

"You would permit the human to go before our Sire with a gun in her possession?"

Elke glared up at him, then lowered her gaze. “No,” she said softly, and looked up defiantly. “But I would have checked, Juro."

He stared at her a moment longer, then glanced at his brother, giving a little jerk of his head toward Cynthia. The two of them flanked her, and Juro made a sweeping gesture toward the stairs. “This way, Ms. Leighton."

"You can leave now, Lonnie.” Elke's voice made Cynthia turn around to stare at the female vamp who had moved to block Lonnie's progress.

"The master said for me to bring her over, Elke."

"And now you have. She drove her own car, didn't she?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Then she certainly doesn't need you any longer. Go back to your little feedlot.” The vamp made a little shooing gesture with her fingers, as if telling a servant to run along to his chores. Lonnie's mouth tightened almost imperceptibly, but he gave Cyn an apologetic look over Elke's shoulder.

"Sorry, Cyn."

Cynthia felt a sudden sympathy for the friendly vampire. It was obvious he was low on the totem pole around here, and it struck her this was a pretty dog-eat-dog place. It had to be tough for a guy like Lonnie. He'd made a place for himself at the beach house, but in spite of that, he had very little real power.

"It's okay, Lonnie,” she assured him, with a look of disgust for Elke. “Thanks for coming this far."

Lonnie grinned, and with a final unfriendly glance at the female vamp, disappeared back out to the courtyard.

Left on her own, Cynthia didn't see she had any choice but to go along with Juro and his twin, so she strode across the foyer to the stairs and began climbing. The two of them kept pace with her, climbing in lockstep, and Cyn felt like a skinny slice of pale lunch meat sandwiched between the two dark-clad giants.
Bad choice of analogy, Cyn,
she reminded herself.
Let's skip the food metaphors for the duration.

They turned right at the top of the stairs, then left down a long hallway which dead-ended at a pair of towering, black walnut doors. They were the largest doors she'd ever seen outside a cathedral—several feet above her head and at least six feet wide, beautifully carved, with elaborate bronze inlays. Leaning forward, she looked closely at the design, expecting to find a scene of battle lust and mayhem. Instead, she found herself looking into a dark garden, as if the doors stood open to some midnight hideaway, if only one knew how to pass through. She straightened, then glanced around at her guards, waiting for whatever was going to happen next and feeling rather abandoned without Lonnie. Not that Lonnie was any kind of protection, but at least he was a face she knew.

Juro stood motionless for a few minutes, and then suddenly, as if some silent signal had been given, he raised his huge fist and gave a surprisingly gentle knock on the thick wooden doors. There was no sound from inside the room, but the doors began to swing open, and Juro and his brother stepped back, indicating she should proceed alone.

Cynthia looked from one to the other, then drew a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and stepped into the lion's den for true.

[Back to Table of Contents]

BOOK: Raphael
7.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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