Breathless (21 page)

The top of the hillside was crowned by a stand of leafy maples. In the moonlight, the red leaves appeared dark purple. Leesa knew there were wooden benches spread among the trees—beautiful places to sit and relax in the shade on a warm day, but cold and uninviting on a chill night like this. Despite the bright moon, the area under the trees was shrouded in black shadows. Leesa suspected Rave could easily navigate the darkness of the copse, but the twisted roots would present a hazard for her. Without a word, Rave steered her around the edge of the grove.

Leesa’s heart jumped when a dark figure detached itself from the shadows and stepped into their path. She squeezed Rave’s hand, but relaxed when the moonlight revealed it was only a kid, fifteen at most, exceedingly slim with a boyish face and long blond hair. He flashed them a toothy grin, and she relaxed still further. The boy seemed clueless about how dangerous it was to be out here alone, and she wondered what he was doing. After a moment, she realized she sensed no similar relaxation in Rave. She turned her head toward him, but his eyes remained fastened on the boy.

Rave let go of her hand and edged forward, positioning himself between her and the boy. Confused, Leesa stepped to the side so she could see the kid’s face. He hadn’t done anything threatening—why was Rave being so protective?

“I only want the girl,” the boy said to Rave. “Leave now and you can keep your life.”

Leesa was dumbfounded to hear such words issue from such a boyish face. What was he talking about? Did he think he could somehow overpower Rave, who was half again his size? She looked more closely and saw no weapon in either of the boy’s hands. She doubted he could overpower even her, let alone Rave.

She got her answer when the boy’s smile twisted into a leering grin and a pair of pointed fangs dropped from his upper jaw. Leesa barely had a chance to register the fangs and what they meant before Rave sprang forward, crossing the gap and wrapping his arms around the boy in a movement almost too quick for her to follow. One moment he was standing beside her, the next he had enveloped the boy and pressed his mouth over the leering grin. A blue glow began to envelop both of them. She could feel the heat on her face and hands.

In less than thirty seconds, it was over. Rave dropped the boy’s lifeless body to the grass. Blue flames danced from Rave’s fingertips. Leesa watched as the boy’s pale face seemed to grow lighter, almost translucent, and she wondered if she was going to be able to see inside his skin. She was about to turn away when she heard a crackling sound like wood burning. A few seconds later, the boy’s body dissolved into a pile of gray and white ash.

She looked up at Rave and found him watching her. “Vampire?” she asked, remembering the last time she had seen such a pile of ash, back in the woods of Meriden. It seemed Rave had been protecting her for longer than she knew.

He nodded. “A young and stupid one. Like I said, surprise is almost always the difference. And this one was much too easy to surprise. That close, he should have sensed I was volkaane.” Rave poked the ashes with his toe. “Maybe the bloodlust dulled his senses. He seemed awfully fixated on you.” He smiled. “I certainly know how easy it is to become fixated on you, Leesa.”

Leesa felt herself blush. “Do you think he’s the one who killed the girl?”

“Probably. As I drew out his life breath, I could sense he’d fed recently.”

“You weren’t kidding when you warned me your kisses were dangerous.” Leesa suddenly began to shiver. Rave moved forward and wrapped her in a tight embrace, but despite his warmth, she continued to shake. Her reaction had nothing to do with the cold, and both of them knew it.

“I wish you didn’t have to witness that,” Rave said.

Leesa wished she hadn’t seen it, either. She couldn’t rid herself of the image of Rave dropping the boy’s lifeless body to the ground. He’d looked so young, so harmless, lying there before his body dissolved into a pile of ash. Was that what awaited her if Rave lost control during one of their kisses? Would she be burned to a crisp, reduced to a lump of gray and white ash? Everyone had been warning her not to get involved with Rave, telling her she and Rave were too different. She could only imagine what they would say if they’d seen what she’d just seen. Maybe they were right. Rave was not only different—he was dangerous.

Stop it!
she told herself. This was Rave. He would never hurt her. How had she gone from feeling so loved and protected to feeling so threatened? The boy was a vampire, and he’d been ready to attack. She forced herself to picture his gleaming fangs and the hungry way he had looked at her. He’d meant to kill her—or worse—she had no doubt. He’d already killed one girl, and possibly two. Rave had saved her life, and probably others as well. Of course Rave was dangerous—what did she expect? She was dating a guy who hunted vampires, for chrissakes! He was more dangerous than anyone she’d ever known. But not to her. No, never to her.

Unless he lost control. He’d already admitted the possibility, but she’d brushed it off, lost in the pleasures of their brief kiss. But that was before she’d witnessed what could happen. She wondered if she’d ever be able to forget the image of that pile of ash—and whether she should even try. Maybe it was best if she remembered it, kept it as a graphic warning about what could happen should she and Rave go too far.

It was all too complicated. And too scary. She didn’t even have any real experience with normal guys—how was she supposed to decide about something like this? She pressed herself more tightly against him, trying to think of nothing but the strength in his arms and the warmth of his embrace. Slowly, her shaking began to diminish. Yes, this whole thing was dangerous, but she wasn’t sure she could ever give up the way she felt when she was with him, the way she felt in his arms. Maybe they could be happy together without kissing….

But then the memory of their wonderful kiss rose unbidden in her mind, and she knew she was kidding herself.

23.  AN UNUSUAL SKULL

“
W
ho’s there?”

The thick wooden door muffled Professor Clerval’s voice, but Leesa was glad he was in his office. She’d arrived early for her appointment, and with no yellow glow seeping from beneath the door, she’d been afraid he might not be here yet.

“It’s Leesa Nyland, Professor,” she called loudly.

A moment later, she heard the click of the old lock and the door swung open. The office was dark, lit only by two flickering candles atop the professor’s desk. No wonder she hadn’t seen any light under the door.

“Come in, come in,” Dr. Clerval invited as he stepped back from the doorway. As soon as Leesa was inside, he pushed the door closed and turned the lock.

Leesa wondered why he was keeping the door locked. “I’m sorry I’m early,” she said, standing in the center of the small office and letting her eyes adjust to the dimness. The air was thick with the fruity scent of his pipe tobacco, and she saw the pipe smoldering in the brass ashtray on the corner of his desk. A thin ribbon of smoke twisted up from the bowl in the candlelight, dissipating in the dimness above. “It was easier for the escort guy this way.”

Even though Rave had destroyed the vampire four nights ago, she was still using the campus escort service if she had to go anywhere at night. Rave had impressed upon her that the burgeoning
Destiratu
could rouse other vampires at any time, and she should remain careful. Security was still high on campus, because the second girl had not yet been found, and no one but she and Rave knew the killer was dead.

“Don’t worry about it,” Professor Clerval said. He moved to his desk and sat down. “As a matter of fact, I’m glad you’re early. I have something here I think you’ll find quite interesting. Pull your chair up close.”

Leesa lifted the old cushioned chair she’d sat on the last time she was here and set it in front of the desk, next to the professor’s. Sitting down, she was astonished to see what looked to be a very real skull resting on a velvet cloth in the middle of the desk. The skull glowed a dull yellow in the candlelight, like a leftover Halloween decoration.

“Is that thing real?” she asked.

“Oh, yes. Very real. And very special. I call him Yorick.” He chuckled, looking embarrassed. “A poor joke, I know.”

He carefully lifted the skull in both hands and turned it so it faced Leesa. “Take a look,” he said as he gently set it back down on the cloth.

It took a few seconds before Leesa realized what she was looking at. The skull appeared normal in all respects except one, but that one was enough to pull a sharp gasp from her throat. Jutting down from the upper teeth were two sharp, curved fangs!

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, her eyes fixed on the pointed teeth. “Is that what I think it is?”

Professor Clerval smiled. “Yes, it is. I believe this is a genuine vampire skull.”

“How did you…Where did you…?”

“A few years ago I found an old manuscript describing the beheading of a supposed vampire here in Connecticut back in the 1700s. As is customary, the body and head were buried separately, a good distance from each other.” Professor Clerval ran his hand over the top of the skull. “They did that to make sure the head and body could never join together and reanimate. Of course, most of the time, the person who was beheaded was just that—an ordinary person accused of being a vampire. But something about this account rang true to me. The author gave a surprisingly detailed description of where the head was buried, so I decided to see if I could locate the place. I was delighted to find what I thought was the exact spot. I went back at night and dug this up. I was astonished at what good condition it was in.” He carefully prodded one of the fangs with his fingertip. “I’ve checked very thoroughly. The fangs are real. This is not a hoax.”

“Why haven’t you put this on display somewhere?” Leesa asked, her eyes wide. “This proves vampires really exist. Or at least that they once did.”

Professor Clerval picked up his pipe and took a long puff. Leesa noticed he held the pipe well away from the skull.

“I’m not certain that would be wise,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about the possible repercussions of doing just that. I’m not sure people need to know that vampires are real, especially with all the misinformation out there. Besides, it turns out vampire bone is even more sensitive to light than vampire skin. That’s the reason for the candles. Daylight would disintegrate the skull. Even normal room lighting damages it.” He smiled. “It’s a good thing grave robbing needs to be done at night, or this could have dissolved in my hands.”

He pointed to a small, darkened area on the right side of the skull’s dome. “That came from sitting too close to my little table lamp here. So now I only study this by candlelight. I’m writing a paper about it.” He took another puff from his pipe. “Whether I ever publish the paper remains to be decided.”

Leesa stared at the skull, fascinated. It looked so solid. She found it hard to believe it could disintegrate just from light. “Can I touch it?” she asked.

The professor nodded. “Sure. Go ahead.”

She gently placed her palm atop the skull. The smooth bone felt strangely cool. She couldn’t believe it—she was actually touching a vampire skull. “It’s amazing,” she said, rubbing the top of the skull. “Is this why you wanted to see me? To show me the skull?” Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away, and the professor wrapped the skull back inside the velvet cloth.

“Actually, no,” he said, fastening a metal clip to the top to hold the cloth in place. “If you hadn’t been early, I wouldn’t have shown it to you at all. You’re only the second person to see this. The other is an old colleague of mine who studies vampires for a private foundation. But since it was out when you arrived, I decided to let you see it. With your family’s connection to the creatures, I’m certain I can trust you to keep my secret.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” Leesa promised. She wondered what Rave knew about vampire bones, remembering what she had witnessed a few nights ago. She pictured the small pile of white and gray ash—the bones certainly disintegrated under the heat of his fire. “But if it wasn’t about the skull,” she asked, “why did you want to see me?”

“It’s about your mother,” the professor said. “Just a moment.” He lifted the wrapped skull and carried it across the room, placing it gently inside an old-fashioned metal safe. He pushed the heavy door closed and spun the combination lock. When he sat back down, he switched on the desk lamp and blew out the candles.

“I found something very interesting,” he said, picking up a thick leather-bound manuscript from the far corner of his desk. “In here.” He opened the book and thumbed through the pages. “This is one of the most comprehensive volumes about vampires I’ve ever found. It has a large chapter on
grafhym
.”

Leesa watched him anxiously, wondering what he’d found that concerned her mom. They had already decided her mom might actually have encountered a one-fanged vampire—perhaps Professor Clerval had discovered something that proved it. But what she heard next was even better.

“There may be a way to help your mother,” the professor said when he stopped flipping through the pages. “At least, if what’s written here is true.”

Leesa leaned forward, scarcely believing her ears. A way to help her mom? Wow. “What does it say?”

“It’s an account from a farmer in Mexico back in the late 1800s, about his wife. He writes that soon after suffering a strange puncture wound in her neck, which his wife said came from a man who bit her, she began behaving strangely.”