The Vampire's Kiss (7 page)

“Ms. Daniels? I know you’re in there. Please, open the door. I have to speak with you.”

She frowned. How did this stranger know her name?

“Please, Ms. Daniels. I have some information for you regarding your brother’s killer.”

Her eyes widened and she stepped quickly back from the door. She hurried to the closet and pulled a small, locked box from its darkened interior. She punched in the lock’s combination, and, with a soft click, the box opened.

A gleaming black handgun rested inside.

She lifted the gun, and with hands that were rock steady, she loaded the bullets. She checked the safety, making certain the mechanism was in place. She stood, holding the gun at her side, and walked carefully toward the door.

She opened the door a tiny bit, barely two inches, keeping the golden top lock in place. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Jack Donovan.” A soft, southern drawl accented his words. He had dark hair, perhaps a shade lighter than William’s, and smooth, handsome features. Savannah surveyed him quickly. He was tall, probably six-two or six-three. His body was muscled, fit. She judged that he was in his early thirties, maybe a little younger.

He was dressed casually, in loose jeans and a black pullover. Both of his hands were lifted in the air, as if he wanted to prove to her that he was no threat.

Savannah didn’t open the door another inch. She didn’t trust this man, this Jack Donovan. There was something about him that put her on edge.

“How do you know who I am, Jack Donovan?” She asked softly, her gaze firmly locked on his.

His blue eyes held her stare. “I’m a private investigator.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve been following you.”

“What?”

He glanced quickly over his shoulder. “Look, I really don’t want to discuss this outside, Okay? Let me in, and I’ll tell you as much as I can.”

Savannah hesitated. She didn’t know him, and she sure as hell didn’t trust him. “I don’t think so.”

A door slammed down the hall. Jack swore softly. “Lady, you’re in danger. You’re going to get yourself killed!”

She lifted one brow. “I’m dying. What’s the difference?” Her smile mocked him. If he’d been investigating her, then he had to know about her condition.

A muscle jerked along the column of his jaw. “The difference is the way that you go. Easy, lying in a hospital bed. Or screaming in agony as all the blood is drained from your body.”

Her smile vanished.

“Let me come in.” His gaze was intent. “We can help each other if you will just let me in.”

Her fingers tightened around the handle of the gun. It felt cold, heavy. Reassuring. “All right, you can come inside. But only for a moment.”

He nodded and again glanced over his shoulder.

Savannah hoped she wasn’t making a mistake. She would hate to have to kill Mr. Jack Donovan. She pulled open the lock and stepped back. He hurried inside.

Savannah silently watched him as he headed toward the center of the room. She shut the door, turning the lock to keep out any more visitors. Then she lifted the gun. She pulled back the safety. The soft click seemed to echo in the room.

Jack spun around, eyes wide. “Hold on!” He lifted his hands, palms out. “I’m not here to hurt you!”

Savannah aimed the gun straight at his heart. She’d learned to shoot long ago, back when she’d been a carefree girl. Long before illness had ravaged her body and her mind. Her father had taught her, and she remembered well the lessons she’d learned. Besides, as close as she was to him, there was no way she could possibly miss.

“What do you want?” Her voice was cool.

He gulped, his gaze locked on the gun. “Look, just put that thing down—”

A small smile twisted her lips. “I don’t think so, Mr. Donovan. Now, who hired you?”

A sheen of perspiration appeared on his forehead. “I can’t tell you that.”

She cocked the hammer of the gun. “That’s not the answer I was hoping to hear.”

His eyes widened. “I can’t tell you, okay? Part of my contract with my client was that I would keep his identity completely secret.”

“How do I know that you’re even a real detective?” Savannah mused. She was a bit surprised at herself. She’d never actually held anyone at gunpoint before. She thought she was doing a pretty good job of it.

His hands began to lower.

“Ah-ah! Keep your hands up!” She couldn’t risk him pulling a weapon on her.

“I’m just going to get my ID, okay? I’m just going to reach into my back pocket—”

Her body stiffened, going instantly to high alert.

Jack moved slowly. Inch by careful inch, he removed his wallet. He flipped it open and held it up for her to examine. “My detective’s license is in here.”

She squinted, trying in vain to read the small card. “Throw it to me.”

His mouth tightened, but he threw the wallet across the room. It landed at her feet.

She carefully bent and picked up the wallet, scanning the ID. “This could be fake.”

“It isn’t.”

“Why were you hired to follow me?”

“It seems that both you and my employer share a common enemy.” His gaze was hooded, watchful.

Her stomach clenched. She put the safety back on the gun, but she did not lower the weapon. Her palms were starting to sweat. “What do you mean?”

“I know you’re after your brother’s killer.”

Savannah said nothing, neither confirming nor denying his words.

“My employer’s brother was killed, too,” Jack said softly, his gaze watching her, waiting for her response.

Savannah lowered her gun. “How was he killed?”

“Can’t you guess?” He waited a beat and then said, “All of the blood was drained from his body.”

Savannah swallowed. The fingers of her left hand lifted and rubbed lightly against the two small marks on her neck. Jake frowned at the gesture, and Savannah dropped her hand instantly, swinging her hair forward to cover the wounds. “And your . . . employer . . . how did he find out about me?”

“He read about your brother in the paper, about the way he died. And he knew the same killer had committed both crimes.”

“But how did he find out about
me?
” Savannah repeated her question, her tone fierce.

“He did some research, and he hired me.” Jack shrugged. “Your name was mentioned in a few of the newspaper clippings that I found. Once I knew your name, it wasn’t hard to track you.”

“How do you know that I am going after the killer?” How could a stranger have known her plans? She’d only confided her intentions to her closest friends.

He blinked, as if surprised by her question. “I knew that you were going after him because you came here.”

“What?”

“You came to Tyler. You came to the killer’s town. That’s how I knew what you were planning.”

She stared blankly at him.

“Didn’t you know?” he asked softly. Then he swore at the expression on her face. “Hell, you had no idea! You were just stumbling around in the dark.”

What was he talking about? The killer wasn’t in Tyler. She would know. She would feel him. “You’re wrong. You—”

“You’ve been to his house, lady,” he snapped. “You’ve been to the bastard’s house!”

She shook her head. He was wrong. It wasn’t—

“William Dark. He murdered your brother. He’s the killer!”

Chapter Five

The evil lives, even in my dreams.

—Entry from the diary of Henry de Montfort,

November 15, 1068

“YOU’RE WRONG,” Savannah said instantly. “William’s not the killer.”

“Yes, he is.” Jack was adamant. “I’m sorry, but he’s the one who murdered your brother.” His gaze was filled with quiet pity.

Savannah clenched her jaw. “I know William. He wouldn’t—”

“He was in Washington at the time of your brother’s murder.” Jack’s words stunned her into silence. “Did you know that, Ms. Daniels?”

No, she hadn’t known. But she’d be damned if she’d admit that fact to this stranger. “It’s a free country. A man can travel wherever he wants.”

“True. But William Dark was also in Panama City when my client’s brother was killed. And he was in Atlanta when a young prostitute was rushed to the hospital. She was suffering from severe blood loss.” He shook his head. “The EMTs thought she’d die before they could get her to the emergency room. But she made it. Barely. And she was able to give a description of her attacker to the police.”

Savannah’s heart thudded dully. “What . . . what did she say the man looked like?”

Jack never took his eyes off her as he recited the description. “A male, approximately six foot two, one hundred and ninety pounds. He was in his late twenties. He had long black hair that he kept pulled back at the nape of his neck. Sound familiar?”

Savannah refused to answer him.

Jack continued, “She couldn’t remember exactly what happened to her during the attack. The last thing she saw was the man. He grabbed her, and then everything went black.”

Savannah swallowed. “You think that man was William?”

“No.” Jack shook his head once. “I
know
it was him. He fits the description perfectly. And he was in each city at the time of the attacks. He’s the one that the police are after. I know it’s him!”

“You don’t know anything,” Savannah whispered, glancing down at the gun she still clutched in her right hand. “Now, I want you to leave.”

“Lady, are you listening to me? He’s a killer!” He took a step toward her.

Her head snapped up. “No,” she said clearly. “He’s not.” Savannah unlocked the door and stepped to the side. “Like I said, it’s time for you to leave.”

Jack didn’t move. He stared at her, eyes blazing. “You’re putting yourself in danger. Don’t you understand what he’s capable of?”

“I understand him very well.” And she did. She knew William. She knew what he was really like. “You’re wrong about him. He’s not the one you’re after.” She believed that, with every bit of her heart. She believed in William’s innocence.

Jack walked toward the door. He paused, staring down at her. “For your sake, I pray you’re right.” He pulled a worn business card from his wallet. “But if you’re wrong, call me. It doesn’t matter what time it is. Call me, and I’ll come to you.”

Savannah took the card. A faint frown marred her forehead. “You’re planning to stay in town?”

“I’ll be around,” he said vaguely. “Remember, just call me. Don’t let him hurt you. Don’t let William do to you what he did to the others.”

“William didn’t do anything to the others.” Her voice was firm. “You’re wrong about him.”

“We’ll see.” His gaze roamed over her face. “We’ll see.” He walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Savannah locked her door and hurried to the bedside phone. She wanted to find out more information about that detective.

She punched in the number and waited impatiently for the call to be answered. One ring. Two. Thr—

“Hello?” A crisp feminine voice answered.

Savannah smiled at the sound of her friend Mary’s voice. “Hey, Mary. It’s me.”

“Savannah? Savannah!” Her shriek was loud and clear. “I’ve been worried sick about you, woman! Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

Savannah winced at the reprimand. “I’m sorry. Things have just been moving really fast here. I meant to call you the moment I got into town.” Had that really been just two days ago? She took a deep breath. “Mary, I met him.”

“Him? You mean William? You met William?” Mary sounded both incredibly thrilled and incredibly frightened.

Savannah sat on the edge of the bed and stretched her legs out in front of her. She was still wearing her outfit from the night before. And her high-heels were killing her. She toed them off and let her feet sink into the worn carpet. “Yeah, I met William.”

“And?”

Savannah closed her eyes. “He’s everything that I thought he’d be.” And he was.

“Savannah . . .” Mary definitely sounded worried now. “I know you think you know this guy, that you understand him because of that book you read—”

Savannah frowned. “It was a diary, Mary. A diary that you gave to me.”

“Yeah, well, when I gave it to you, I had no idea it would lead to this!”

Savannah had known. From the moment that her hands had touched that diary, she’d known it would lead her to William.

“Is he really a . . . um . . .” Mary’s words stumbled to a halt. Savannah was certain that a dull flush was staining Mary’s cheeks at that moment.

“A vampire?” Savannah queried softly.

“Yes . . .”

“What do you think?”

Mary didn’t answer.

A door slammed in the background and laughter drifted softly across the line. Mary swore. “Damn. My roommate is back. I’d better go.”

“Wait! I need a favor.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Savanna’s lips twisted. That was Mary. Always willing to help. “I need you to check someone out for me. Can you do one of those Internet searches again?”

“Sure. Who do you need me to research?” Mary was a true hacker. She’d graduated from college with a degree in information technology at the age of nineteen. Give the woman a computer, and there was nothing that she couldn’t do with it. She’d found William for Savannah. She could easily find out information on Jack Donovan.

“His name’s Jack Donovan. He said he was a private detective.”

Silence hummed on the line. “You don’t believe him?” Mary finally asked, her voice soft. She was obviously afraid that her roommate might overhear her words.