SHADOWLOVE--STALKERS (23 page)

Pentim stayed in his crouched and bowed position. Evidently he had usurped the count’s…chosen victim. Was that what had happened?

There had been no doubt then, that Dracula could instantly slay him. As the memory of that night flashed through his mind, he fidgeted.

He had no idea what the count wanted with him now after all these years, and Pentim shuddered to think about the possibilities.

Perhaps the count had decided that the Rawley clan was getting a bit too powerful for his liking. That had been a very real danger that Pentim had considered more than once. But again his instincts intervened and told him perhaps it was something else.

When he had started his program of eliminating the newbie vamps, Pentim had been bothered with a twinge of concern regarding what the count’s reaction might be should he take notice. Apparently, he was going to find out.

Dracula was an imposing figure of what had once been a man. He was tall, lean, and regal. His hair, unlike his twin’s tawny locks, was black, and he wore it slicked back and tied at the base of his neck. He issued a presence that hinted of ‘otherworldly’, and his power was enormous. He stood in the doorway, surveyed the room, and then lowered his eyes to Pentim. “Up with you,” he quietly said in an old world accent.

Pentim was on his feet and bowed his head. “Count…I am honored.”

Dracula had chosen to wear leather: a black leather long coat, black leather pants, and a black T-shirt. His boots were trimmed in silver. He took a leisurely step into the room and looked about to say on a low note, “Gaudy and ostentatious.”

“Yes…but secluded.” Pentim kept his dark eyes lowered.

The count seemed to glide as he moved in to stare down at Pentim Rawley. “I have very little interest in the world of vampires—a world I need not remind you exists because of me, because it was I who gave my blood to create your race so very long ago.” He put up a finger to still any return remark that Pentim might have felt obliged to offer. “However, I do not like disorder. It leads to fear, and fear leads to chaos, and chaos could bring disquiet to the world in which I choose to live.”

“Yes, but, sire—”

“It is not your place to speak.” He paused for the fraction of a moment. “I see all…know much, and I have never approved of
you,
Pentim,
or your ways.” He turned, and in the doorway was a petite and softly styled female. He put out his hand. “Come, my dear.”

She stepped forward, and Pentim chanced a glance her way. He was surprised to find that the lovely vampire was looking at him with loathing. There was something oddly familiar about her…

He frowned, and the Count immediately and quietly said, “Ah, I see you don’t really remember…but then
it was
over one hundred years ago. You were about to destroy this lovely child when I came upon you and requested she be given to me. Her name is Lilith.”

Pentim felt a shiver scurry up his spine. Here was trouble. He stood silent and waited for the count to continue.

“It was purely an accident that I should have been there and seen her—she who looks like the twin of my fallen bride.” He sighed, but there was a glint of anger in his amber eyes. “Had fate allowed me to find her first, I would have courted her, taken her slowly, minimized the pain…but that was thwarted by
you.”

Pentim closed his eyes and wondered what was about to befall him. There would be no escape from Dracula, who all knew was so much more than a vampire.

“However, you did yield her to me even in your blood frenzy. It is why you still live. I took her, and she has been at my side ever since. However, she is most distressed with you. Recently she had alleviated some of her boredom in the company of another young woman her own age. They were friends, and the woman agreed to be turned by my Lil. The woman was under Lilith’s care and protection. She had merely strayed off for a little while, and you came across her and without discretion, without hearing her pleas, without listening when she told you she was under the protection of the House of Dracula,
you killed her.”

“Forgive me,” Pentim said at once. “I did not believe her…I thought it a ruse.”

“Did you? You should be more careful in the future. Perhaps you should give up this business of eliminating all newbies. My Lil would like you to stop…” Dracula brushed off an imaginary speck of lint from his black leather coat.

“I am done with that. I have only one interest now.”

“And what is that?”

“I wish to find my daughter.”

Dracula’s eyelashes fluttered. “Are you telling me you fathered a child with a human?”

“Yes.”

“And the
mother
—what of her?”

“Dead.”

“Sad for a child to grow to adult years without a mother.” Dracula seemed to think about this for a time. “When you find this child of yours, I would like to meet her.”

“Of course, sire…”

“I trust we now understand one another?”

“Yes, sire.”

On that last note, the count turned, took Lil’s small hand. and started out of the room. “It will not bode well for you if you act against my wishes.”

“I understand totally, sire.”

Gone! Suddenly the count and his companion were gone. Vanished. So much more than vamp speed had just occurred.

Pentim had never seen anything quite like that before. Dracula was purported to have many powers, and vanishing in the blink of an eye must be one of them.

Pentim was also amazed that Dracula had allowed him to live, again. He had thought for a moment that he had breathed his last…

* * *

Shawna waited only long enough for Chad to hang up his receiver before she demanded, “What? What about my grandparents?”

“That was m’dad.”

“I know—now tell me, and please don’t stall while you try and think up some story to satisfy me. Just spill—tell me what is going on.”

“Shawna, we aren’t sure about anything. In fact, we changed all the earlier plans we had made for them, and my father decided to see to them himself. My grandmother went on to take care of business at the orphanage in Nigeria, and he made his way to your grandparents.”

“How did he know where to find them?”

“He just did. That isn’t important.”

“It is to me.”

“Do ye want to know what is going, or don’t ye, lass?”

She waved him on. “Yes…go ahead, then what?”

“When he got to them, your grandmother told him she thought they might have a problem.”

“
A problem
—what problem?” Shawna was beginning to shake.

“Shawna.” Chad had her shoulders in a firm but gentle grip. “It is okay—everything is under control.”

“Just give it to me. What is under control?”

“Your grandmother was in town just before m’dad arrived—your grandmother said she needed a few things if she was to close up her house for months on end. While she was getting into her car, she noticed someone in the shadows. She saw a vampire in the shadows of a side street. Your grandmother was sure of it, and also just as sure that it had not looked her way. Still, she thought it odd in a small town that she would find one roaming about and before the day had waned. Luckily, your grandmother’s scent does not carry Pentim’s scent…no relation there. However, m’dad and I think they are searching small towns for you.”

“My grandparents?”

“We also think that there is a slight chance that they could pick up your scent from them—or rather your mother’s scent. Your grandmother would carry your mother’s scent. A more refined and powerful vampire might own the skill of scenting and could perhaps pick up on that.” He stroked her cheek. “Dad felt it might be best to take your grandparents to one of our safe havens in the tropics. Vamps don’t usually frequent the tropics.”

“Oh my God—oh my God…” Shawna felt as though she couldn’t breathe. “Do you think they will be safe there? Will your father stay with them?”

“He is with them now and has them safely ensconced at our private villa. There is no one that can get past m’dad.”

He said this with such pride that Shawna stopped to study him before she asked, “Why is he helping us? Doesn’t it put him and your grandmother in danger?”

“Not from the vamps, it doesn’t.”

“From whom then?”

“Ah, now, Shawna, doona fetch yourself on that score.”

“Yes, but—”

“All you need to know is that there is none that can protect them better than my father.”

“Yes, but—” She tried again.

“Shawna, he will not allow anything to happen to them.”

She was, however, in a panic. She started for the door. He took her arm in his strong hold and held her close. “Shawna—listen…they are in no danger now, I promise you. Since my mother’s death, he has, as I have, learned all there is to know about vampires. There isn’t one that can get past either one of us.”

She stopped short. “What do you mean—since your mother’s death.”

“Never mind that now. What you need to know, I’ve told you, lass. Your grandparents, due to your grandmother’s alertness, are safely in m’dad’s hands. He has them well guarded in our private villa that none can enter without an invitation. They’ll be no one getting neither nigh nor near them—I guarantee that.”

She sucked in air and then jabbed him with her finger. “
Just what are you
—what is your father and what is your grandmother? Are any of you even human?”

“Now that…” he answered with a quizzical look, “…is an odd question coming from
you.”

“Is it? You know what I am—but you…” She shook her head. “I don’t have a clue what you and your family are.”

“Maybe if you are good and sit very still and allow me to ink you, I’ll tell you a bit more about my family history?”

She wasn’t certain she liked the idea of being inked. “It is a permanent thing. I am not sure I like marking myself with something permanent.”

“You’ll grow to love it…especially when you feel its power shield you. I know that I already love your tattoo—and where it is going.”

She eyed him and backed away. He reached out and took her hand. “Come then, Shawna…we are wasting time.”

* * *

Alone once more in her cottage, Shawna went to the mirror, held up a compact mirror, shoved her long hair out of the way, and tried to have a look at the tattoo Chad had installed at the nape of her neck.

It was small and hard to make out. There was a letter laced between the Celtic Knots and the rune design. She had asked him what it stood for—it was an odd looking L. He had smiled and said simply, “It’s all part of what you need to keep you safe when we start working on black magic.”

“And when will that be?” she had asked.

“As soon as you are ready.”

“Yeah, well I’m ready right now.”

“You think you are, but you are not.”

“Then when?”

“We’ll see—good night, Shawna.”

He hadn’t even stepped inside her cottage. He had stood at the door, scanning the room behind her over her head, but he had not gone inside. He backed away as though she had the plague, and it infuriated her.

She had no intention of allowing him to kiss her, but it peeved her that he didn’t even try. She hadn’t even a chance to show off her will power!

And then he was gone, and she was alone. She looked out towards the woods from her kitchen window. The entity had not shown itself yesterday and not yet today. Odd that. She had expected it to return in force, ready to take her on, and she—she wanted to get it over with. She needed to put an end to this ‘thing’, because now it was starting to hurt innocent people like Mrs. Carver. That was another thing…why Mrs. Carver? Had she just been at the wrong place at the wrong time? Was it as simple as that?

~ Fifteen ~

CHAD MACFARE DROVE his car away from Shawna’s cottage, veered off to the side of the road, and maneuvered his way through a thicket of trees. The sun was hidden by clouds, and at any rate, nightfall would soon descend. He didn’t want to be readily visible from the road.

He parked the Jag so that he had a clear view of the cottage through the budding trees. Luckily Shawna always kept the outside lights on.

He shut off the engine and listened to the quiet for a moment before he made himself comfortable enough to watch without getting too stiff.

He had given Shawna a rough first day of training. She had been a trooper, both physically and mentally taking on everything he had thrown at her, even allowing him to tattoo her. He had expected her to put up more of a fight. No doubt, instinctively, she understood the importance of the tattoo, for she had allowed him to ink her with very little resistance. What she didn’t know was the connection he would ‘sense’ between them because of the additional little emblem he had installed.

He would not be able to track her movements exactly, but the L—which was the letter that had been embroidered on his grandmother’s infant clothes—would give him a sense of her. Not much good in that, though, unless he were in her vicinity. He would know if she were in trouble, but not much else.