Blood on Silk (12 page)

“ Y
ou can’t stay here on your own,” Konrad said adamantly. They were all gathered in Elizabeth’s hotel bedroom. Mihaela was sitting on the bed, drinking bottled water. In between sips, Elizabeth rubbed arnica cream into her bruised throat. “Not since we failed to kill Saloman. Hell, we didn’t even
entice
him!”

“Maybe he knew who you were,” Elizabeth suggested, dropping the arnica back into her handbag and sinking onto the bed beside Mihaela to watch Konrad pacing the room like a caged tiger.

“How?” he snapped back. “He’s been awake precisely three days. He knows of our existence, but not who we are—surely!”

“I never expected Zoltán to go back on his word so quickly either,” István said. “But at least he knows now she’s double protected—by Saloman and us—and should stay away. The other vampires won’t risk attacking her, will they?”

Konrad stopped pacing to push his hand through his short blond hair. “I don’t know. By his action tonight, Zoltán might just have made her fair game again.”

“Will it end the alliance between him and Saloman?” Elizabeth asked.

“I don’t know that either. I suppose it depends how much Saloman needs him. What I do know is that you’re not as safe as I’d hoped you’d be right now.”

“I’m perfectly safe,” Elizabeth argued, although her hands still shook. “None of them knows where I am. You checked yourself for vampires following us.”

“Well . . .” His worried glance slid between the two women. “What if Mihaela stays here with you? Just to be on the safe side.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Elizabeth objected. “Mihaela needs rest—and a doctor!”

“I’m fine,” Mihaela croaked.

“See?” Elizabeth waved one indignant hand.

Konrad’s gaze encompassed Mihaela and István. “What do you think?” he asked. And his doubts, the fact that he deferred to his colleagues, impressed Elizabeth as his previous commands had not. It showed he was shaken by the Zoltán incident, which he hadn’t foreseen at all and which had clearly dented his habitual self-confidence.

A fresh twinge of unease spiraled up Elizabeth’s spine, but she ignored it, because more than anything, she wanted,
needed
to be on her own. Though it might have been silly, this room felt like her haven of peace and sanity in a world gone nightmarishly insane. And the hunters, however much she was beginning to like and admire them, were definitely part of the insanity. She needed them out of here.

István started to say, “Perhaps—”

“Actually,” Elizabeth interrupted, “it isn’t up to them—or to you, Konrad. I appreciate—I really do!—your concern, but I
am
staying here. By myself.” They all regarded her with surprised consternation.
Oh please, just hurry up and go. . . .

“What,” Mihaela whispered, “if we leave one of the detectors here? She’d have time to get out of the room and phone us.”

She took something from her pocket and laid it on the bedside table—a small, square piece of plastic, perhaps three inches long, with a small rectangular display and an LED, neither lit.

Konrad frowned. “We can’t leave equipment behind.”

“Not normally,” Mihaela agreed, touching her painful throat. “But I think we’re in a special situation. We need to keep Elizabeth safe.”

“That’s why she should come with us!” Konrad was beginning to look harassed as well as frustrated.

“I’m not coming,” Elizabeth declared. “Although I’ll happily keep your device under my pillow and return it to you safely in the morning. Come on, guys, we all need some sleep.”

Konrad drew in his breath. Mihaela stood, as if the matter were settled, and he gave a final, decisive nod. “Very well. Look, Elizabeth. Switch it on here and leave it on all night. It has enough charge to last beyond sunrise. The light comes on if there is any anomaly—vampire—in the vicinity. The display will show a rough distance and direction. The whole thing also vibrates when the light goes on, so by all means put it under your pillow.”

“I understand,” Elizabeth said, shepherding them to the door. It felt more like shooing, and she knew she should feel guilty about that. Probably she would in the morning, but right now, as she closed the door on them, she was aware only of massive relief.

It seemed that her habitual solitude, which sometimes depressed her with loneliness, had become necessary to her. Soon, she wouldn’t be able to form any kind of relationship with anybody, let alone a live-in, lasting one of lifelong love and respect. Which she’d given up on anyhow after her last disastrous and ultimately humiliating romantic experience.

With a sour smile, Elizabeth went into the tiny bathroom and turned on the shower. It was a good way to empty her mind, to think only of the warmth and comfort of the water coursing over her skin and into her eyes and mouth. Not for the first time, she acknowledged what a sensual experience showering was, enjoying the gentle battering of water on her neck and shoulders and hardened nipples. As she soaped herself, her hands lingered there of their own volition before sweeping down her stomach to the soft, sensitive flesh between her legs.

Unbidden, she remembered Saloman’s alluring touch, and the treacherous, perverse response of her body. And those responses began to repeat themselves. Her limbs felt languid and sexy; her hips moved under the water jet as the tingling heat spread downward from her stomach and upward from between her thighs, to merge at her core.

She lifted her arms, letting the water rush over her armpits and down her breasts, washing the soap away and leaving her skin clean and glowing and almost unbearably sensitive. Half-ashamed, she cried out silently for a man’s touch, a man’s caresses that would feel like his, that would make her feel . . .

“Oh, stop!” she whispered fiercely to herself.

She turned off the shower and stepped out. Grabbing a towel and her toothbrush, she brushed with unnecessary force, hoping the mundane frothing and spitting would calm the inconvenient yearnings of her body.

She’d long ago given up dreams of domestic bliss in favor of an academic career, and as she well knew, that career was a lot more successful to date than her few humiliating attempts at relationships. With a first-class honors degree, two years of challenging but acclaimed research into vampire superstitions that had earned her a teaching job at the university this year, and the beginnings of a strong thesis that should bring her a PhD by next year, she was justifiably proud. Even Richard was proud of her, although once or twice she’d have sacrificed the intellectual admiration in his eyes for the predatory glow she glimpsed in them as they rested on a nubile female student or the glamorous art history lecturer who was currently seen around town with him.

However, in her most honest moments, she acknowledged that romantic entanglement with Richard was pure fantasy. In fact, she suspected she used her attraction to him as a shield. If she was spoken for, even if only in her own mind, then she couldn’t be flustered or seduced by other men—men who might actually get through her prickles and hurt her.

That all seemed rather pathetic now. Outside this room was a world she’d never even imagined, a world most people were entirely unaware of. And she, for once in her life, had a chance to make a real contribution. Admittedly, she’d done the world a disservice by awakening Saloman in the first place, but she could make that right.

She didn’t know why he hadn’t come for her tonight. But she knew it was just a matter of time. For some reason, he was amusing himself with her, toying with her, a little bit like Richard occasionally teased her; yet somehow she knew Saloman would deliver, and instead of romance, it would be death.

Death. And beyond that, the chaos he’d inflict on the world.

Padding across the bedroom, drying in the humid air, she dragged her worn old T-shirt from under the pillow and let it unfold. She frowned at it, then threw it onto the floor. Somehow, the act seemed symbolic.

Naked, she climbed into bed. As she reached for the lamp switch, her gaze caught Mihaela’s detector, sitting dully on the table. She winked at it, stuffed it under her pillow and switched off the light.

Although she’d only accepted the detector to get rid of the hunters, she appreciated it now for adding to her sense of security in this room, her haven, where she’d finally grown up and acknowledged her responsibilities.

She woke in darkness, her heart thudding, her body tingling as if from some sexy dream. Her hand rested on coarser fabric than her sheets, and beneath the fabric was something both hard and supple—like human flesh.

It seemed she was still dreaming. Experimentally, she twitched her fingers and the flesh, whatever it was, moved under her hand in instant response—a slow, sensual ripple, like the reaction of a man to a woman’s caress. It would be a good dream to continue . . . only . . .

Only it didn’t feel like a dream—at least, no more than the whole previous day had done. Leaving her hand where it was, in case the flesh escaped her, she drew in her breath to scream and grabbed the lamp switch with her free hand.

Its energy-saving lightbulb flickered into a dim, easy-on-the-eyes glow.

Saloman sat on her bed, Mihaela’s detector held between his long, elegant fingers.

Oh fuck, I’m dead.

She didn’t even bother to scream. She didn’t think she could in her current state. He looked right at her, not even blinking in the brightening light. Fear rose up and swallowed her.

“Good evening,” he said, as if they’d met at some public soiree. His gaze dropped back to the detector. “What is this?”

Numb, still lying awkwardly, propped up on her elbow with her head against her shoulder, Elizabeth followed his attention. The device lay on his palm, the LED not even flickering. It did seem to be vibrating, but so slightly that it just gave occasional twitches. The display was as dead as it had ever been.
Piece of crap. Thank God I didn’t rely on it.

Hysteria rose up from nowhere. No, she’d relied on blind, stupid, ignorant faith, and now the bastard was actually sitting on her bed, playing with the hunters’ secret weapon, which he had extracted from right under her pillow. One was as much use as the other.

“It’s a vampire detector,” she said defiantly, hoping to frighten him off with the potential arrival of the hunters—before she remembered that all that had kept her alive the other night had been her disbelief in him. “Or that’s the nonsense they fed me.”

“It doesn’t work,” he observed.

“That must be because you’re not a vampire.”

He cast her a quick, mocking glance, and her brief hope died. “Well, one of us is upsetting it. Interesting device.” He slipped it into his shirt pocket.

“That’s mine!” she exclaimed.

“No, it isn’t. I’ll return it to the hunters when we meet. I only want to see how it works.”

So do I
. The hysteria was back, catching at her breath until she swallowed it down. “How did you get in here? What do you want?”

“I came through the window.”

“It’s locked!”

His eyes glinted. “Give me some credit.”

“Besides, I didn’t invite you in,” she added desperately.

“You’ve been reading Bram Stoker,” he chided.

“So have you.”

He smiled at that, not the swiftly vanishing half smile that had so intrigued her on their first encounter, but a proper, devastating smile of genuine amusement. “Of course. I’m not sure my friend Vlad would be impressed by this fresh assault upon his reputation. Though it might entertain him.”

“Vlad the Impaler was your friend?” She didn’t mean to say it. The words just spilled out with her involuntary excitement.

“For a time.”

A tide of questions rose up, together with the realization that Saloman was a historian’s dream. His gleaming eyes acknowledged it, forcing her to close her lips in silence.
What a waste. What I could learn from him . . .

He’s not a bloody teacher! He’s a vampire!

“What do you want?” she snapped a second time, registering with vague surprise that her fear was getting lost in academic frustration.

“Your blood, of course.”