Desire After Dark (16 page)

He held her through what remained of the night, memorizing each feature, imprinting her face in his mind for that day in the future when he would have to let her go.

Sensing the coming of dawn, he carried Victoria to bed and tucked her under the covers, then brushed a kiss across her cheek.

“Sogni dolci, il mio amore
,” he murmured. Sweet dreams, my love.

Bobbie Sue stood in the middle of her living room, trying to decide which costume to wear to work, when Duncan came to call.

“I didn't expect to see you today,” she said.

“If you're busy, I can come back later.”

“No, no, nothing like that. I'm just surprised to see you, that's all.” She smiled at him. “Surprised, but pleased.” She took a step back. “Come on in.”

He followed her into the living room, noting the bright yellow walls, the white wicker furniture, the colorful throw pillows.

“What's all this?” He gestured at the sofa, which was covered with brightly colored dresses, hats, scarves, and a variety of wigs.

“Oh, that. I'm trying to decide whether to be a cheerleader, Cleopatra, or the bride of Frankenstein.”

“Oh, right. It's Halloween.”

“Gus likes us to wear costumes to work.” She held up a slinky black dress and a long black wig. “I could go as Vampira…Oh, geez, that would be in really bad taste, wouldn't it?” She tossed the dress and the wig aside. “I suppose I could just go as a waitress.”

She sat on the love seat and patted the cushion beside her. “Come, sit down and tell me what you're going to do tonight.”

“Nothing much.”

“You look a little blue. Is anything wrong?”

“I was hunting Falco last night and found Battista instead.”

“Found him where?”

“With a dead girl in his arms.”

“Oh, no! Poor Vicki. Does she know?”

“I told her about it last night. I just hope she takes my advice and stays away from him.”

“I think she's in love with him.”

Duncan grunted softly. What was it about vampires that women found so irresistible? He thought of Marisa and Kelly. Did they ever regret accepting the
Dark Trick
to be with their vampire lovers? He couldn't imagine giving up his humanity, or never again watching the sun rise on a new day. Nor did he want to give up the pleasure of eating a good steak, or enjoying a good cup of strong black coffee first thing in the morning, or an ice-cold beer on a hot summer day.

He grunted softly. “Do you think she knows where his lair is?”

“I don't know. I could ask her.”

“Thanks.” It was a slim hope. Even if Vicki knew where Battista took his rest during the day, he was pretty sure she wouldn't tell him. That was another thing about women who were infatuated with vampires. They were fiercely loyal. Still, asking Vicki couldn't hurt. He needed all the help he could get, because he sure wasn't having any luck on his own. “I haven't been able to find Falco's resting place, either,” he muttered glumly. “The man's as elusive as quicksilver.”

“I guess you'll be leaving town after you find him.”

“I was planning to, but now…” Duncan took a deep breath. He had never been at ease with women. Give him a stake and show him a vampire and he knew what to do, but put him in a room alone with a woman he was attracted to, and he behaved like a bumbling, tongue-tied idiot.

“But now?” Bobbie Sue coaxed.

He ran a finger around his shirt collar. “I've been thinking about settling down, you know, finding another line of work.”

“Oh? Were you thinking of settling down in any place in particular?”

He cleared his throat. “This seems like a good place.”

“Oh, it is.” She leaned toward him. “Wouldn't you like to kiss me, Tom?”

“Very much.”

“Well?”

Scooting closer, he slipped one arm around her waist. And still he hesitated.

With a soft laugh, Bobbie Sue slid her hand around his nape, pulled his head down, and kissed him. It was like touching a match to a flame. The sparks she had never felt with Steve shot through her like a bolt of electricity.

She was breathless when they parted.

“You were right,” he said, his voice ragged. “This is a good place.”

“Trick or treat!”

Vicki opened the front door, smiling at the trio of children standing on the porch. Spiderman, Frodo, and Harry Potter looked up at her, all holding pillowcases that were already bulging with goodies.

She dropped a candy bar in each bag, waved to the mothers waiting patiently on the sidewalk, and closed the door.

For the next half hour, there was a steady stream of trick-or-treaters ringing her doorbell, from cute little angels and devils to teenagers wearing hideous masks. She had just picked up her handbag and keys and taken a last look in the mirror to make sure her Tinkerbell wings were straight when the doorbell rang again.

“Oh, I love your costumes,” Vicki said, glancing from a very realistic-looking Darth Vader to an equally impressive R2-D2.

“Thank you,” said the taller of the two in a high-pitched voice. “I hate to impose, but could we use your restroom? My little boy needs to go.”

“Oh, sure, come in.” Vicki held the screen door open for Darth Vader and her son.

Darth Vader gave R2-D2 a little push, then followed him inside.

“It's this way,” Vicki said. She started down the hall, then stopped when she heard the front door close. Turning, she saw Darth Vader standing close behind her. There was no sign of R2-D2.

Fear snaked down Vicki's spine. She opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but no words came out.

And then Darth Vader removed her mask.

And Vicki found herself staring into Dimitri Falco's cold yellow eyes.

“Trick or treat,” he said in that same high-pitched voice. And then he laughed. “And what a sweet treat you will be.”

Stunned, Vicki stared at him. Pushing her fear aside, she tried to remember what Duncan had told her about making a vampire depart. But Falco was on her before she could form the words. His hand closed around her throat, squeezing, tighter, tighter, until all she could see were his eyes.

And then nothing at all.

 

Battista made his way down a street crowded with parents and kids, most of them in costume. Ballerinas, devils, elves, witches, warlocks, and vampires. On this one night, his dark clothing and long black coat fit right in. Knowing that Tom Duncan now considered him fair game, Battista kept his senses alert as he turned down the street toward Victoria's house. He glanced at the night sky, quietly cursing the need that had sent him in search of prey. He was late tonight. She had probably already left for the diner.

Pausing at the end of the walkway leading to her house, he lifted his head and sniffed the wind. “Falco.” The man's foul stench polluted the air.

Hurrying up the stairs, Battista knocked on the door. There was no answer. The door opened at the touch of his hand. Her handbag and keys lay on the floor.

With preternatural speed, he hastened to the diner. Hoping against hope, he glanced in the window, his gaze sweeping the inside. There was no sign of Victoria.

Hurrying through the front door, he cornered Bobbie Sue. “Where is she?”

Her eyes grew wide. “I…I don't know.”

“Did she come to work tonight?”

“N…No.”

He swore a vile oath. “He's got her.”

“Who…Who's got her?”

“Falco.”

“Take your hands off her and step away, Battista.”

Turning, Antonio came face-to-face with Tom Duncan. “Falco has taken Victoria,” he said, unable to hide the desperation in his voice.

“And I'm taking you.”

“Did you not hear what I said?” Battista demanded. “Victoria's life is in danger.”

“First you,” Duncan said resolutely, “and then him.”

Battista snorted. “Are you going to stake me here, in front of all these people?”

Duncan glanced around. Though their conversation had been too low to be heard by others, the diner's customers were all looking in their direction, curious as to what was going on between the two men and the waitress. To onlookers, it no doubt looked like two men arguing over a woman.

“We are wasting time that we cannot afford to waste,” Battista said. Dropping Bobbie Sue's arm, he left the diner.

“Dammit, wait a minute!” Duncan hurried after Battista, but when he reached the sidewalk, there was no sign of the vampire.

 

Cloaked in the shadows of the night, Battista closed his eyes and sought for the sound of Victoria's heartbeat amongst the hundreds of others in the town, thanking whatever Fates there were that she had allowed him to take her blood the night before. Doing so had forged a link between them that could not be broken so long as one of them survived.

It took only moments for him to separate hers from all the others. Like a wolf on the scent, he followed the beat of her heart. It led him out of Pear Blossom Creek, across the state highway and the weed-infested field beyond.

Her heartbeat grew louder as he climbed a hill and descended the other side. There, he found a small house built of weathered wood and stone. There were iron bars on the windows, iron-barred security doors at the front and the back. A chain-link fence surrounded the property. A padlock secured the gate. Two large Dobermans paced the length of the fence.

No lights shone in the house.

He cursed softly, wondering how he had missed finding this place before. It provided little consolation to know that Duncan hadn't found it, either, he thought, uttering a wordless sound of disdain. He was surprised the hunter could find his way home without a map.

Dissolving into mist, Battista floated over the fence, then slipped under the back door. Once inside the cottage, he assumed his own shape. Standing in the dark, he listened to the sounds of the house, then followed the siren call of Victoria's heartbeat. It led him through a small door in the kitchen and down a flight of stairs that ended in the cellar.

The frantic beat of her heart came to him more loudly now, as did the sound of her breathing, rapid and afraid.

A second door led into a larger room swathed in darkness.

He found Victoria chained to the wall across from the door, her arms drawn over her head, held in place by a pair of heavy silver manacles that gleamed even in the dark. A second set of manacles bound her ankles. For a moment, her appearance startled him, and then he realized she was wearing a Tinkerbell costume and the odd protrusions at her back were wings.

He moved quickly to her, wondering, fleetingly, how Falco had managed to bind her with silver chains, but his relief at seeing her alive and well overcame every other thought.

She gasped when he placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Shh, my sweet one.”

“Antonio! Oh, Antonio.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“
Oh, Antonio
.” From the doorway, Dimitri Falco's voice mimicked Victoria's.

Battista whirled around, quietly cursing as Falco's familiar stink stung his nostrils.

“Kill him!” Falco's voice echoed off the stone walls.

Four hulking shapes moved past Falco. With his preternatural sight, Battista saw the vacant expression in their eyes, knew that Falco had bent their minds to his will. Two of the zombies carried long wooden stakes. The other two carried vials of holy water.

Falco screamed, “What are you waiting for? Kill him, you fools!”

The zombies carrying the holy water threw it in Battista's direction. He raised his arms to protect his face, swore as drops of water sprayed over his hands, face, and neck like acid rain.

The zombie nearest him lunged forward, the wooden stake clutched in his fist driving toward Battista's heart.

With a cry, Antonio dissolved into mist and fled the room.

Traveling on the wings of the night, he returned to the diner in search of Duncan.

He found the hunter seated at a back table devouring a steak.

Tom looked up, startled, when Battista suddenly appeared in the chair across from him. The vampire looked even worse than he had before. Fresh blisters spread like freckles across his cheeks.

“I need your help,” Battista said urgently. “Now.”

“Yeah, right.”

“We have no time to waste. I know where Victoria is.”

Duncan dropped his fork on the table. “Let's go.”

Bobbie Sue hurried toward them. “Tom, where are you going?”

“To get Victoria. See ya later.”

“Wait! I want to go.”

“No! You stay here!” Duncan said, and followed Battista out into the night.

“My car's this way,” Duncan said.

Moments later, they were at the house in the hollow.

Duncan killed the engine and turned off the light. “You think she's still here?”

“Yes,” Battista said curtly. Getting out of the car, he started toward the house.

“Hold on a minute,” Duncan called.

Battista grimaced as Duncan opened the trunk of the Camaro and pulled out a stake, a hammer, and a large bottle of holy water.

Duncan grinned. “Let's go.”

He stopped grinning when two Dobermans materialized out of the darkness, barking frantically. “You got a plan for getting past the dogs?”

Taking hold of the padlock in one hand, Antonio gave a sharp jerk and it came away in his hand. “Wait here,” he said, and slipped through the gate.

Growing, both dogs walked stiff-legged toward him. And then, as his gaze met theirs, they dropped to the ground, tails wagging.

Without waiting to see if Duncan was following, Antonio headed for the back door. As expected, the iron security door was locked. Grasping two of the bars, he gave a good hard yank. There was an unearthly screech as the bolts were torn out of the wood.

Tossing the iron grate aside, he kicked in the wooden door.

He had no sooner done so than the four zombies rushed toward him out of the darkness, illuminated by a faint shaft of moonlight.

He grabbed the first one and broke its neck.

Muttering an oath, Duncan drew his revolver and fired three quick shots. It dropped the remaining zombies in their tracks.

Grunting softly, Battista hurried down the stairs to the basement. The smell of fresh blood grew stronger as he neared the door.

Victoria's blood.

Opening the door, he rushed to her side, grief and rage welling from deep within him when he saw the gaping wound in the curve where her neck and shoulder met.

Throwing back his head, he howled his rage.

Duncan stood in the doorway, stake in one hand, .38 in the other. “Is she dead?”

“Not yet.” Antonio reached for the manacle that spanned her right wrist, only to jerk his hand away, hissing with pain, as the silver blistered his flesh.

“I don't suppose there's a key?” Duncan asked.

Battista shook his head.

“Then we'll have to do it the hard way. I'll be right back.”

Battista stroked Victoria's brow. “My sweet one, can you hear me?” He stroked her cheek with his uninjured hand. Her skin was cold beneath his fingertips, her breathing shallow. Ripping a strip of cloth from his shirttail, he wrapped it around the hideous wound in her throat.

He looked up as Duncan ran into the room, a pair of bolt cutters in his hand. In moments, he had cut through the chains. “Let's get out of here. We'll worry about the cuffs later.”

With a nod, Battista put his arms around Victoria, holding her upright while Duncan cut the chains at her feet. As soon as she was free, Antonio swung her into his arms and carried her up the stairs and out of the house. The dogs whined softly when he went out of the gate.

He watched impassively as Duncan set fire to the house.

“He won't be coming back here, that's for damn sure.” Duncan glanced at Victoria. “Is she…?”

“She is alive.”

“We'd better get her to a doctor. I think she's going to need a transfusion right quick.”

Battista hesitated, reluctant to let anyone else look after her. His own blood was far stronger than the blood of mortals.

Looking up, he met Duncan's gaze.

“I know what you're thinking,” the bounty hunter said. “Are you sure that's what she'd want?”

“No.” He knew it wasn't what she wanted, but what he wanted. He carried Victoria to the car and got in, cradling her in his arms while Duncan drove to the hospital. The cuff on her left wrist burned even through his clothing where her arm rested against his chest, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered now but saving her life.

The hunter's Camaro was old and beat up, but it hauled. Duncan pulled into the hospital emergency parking lot five minutes later. Leaving the motor running, he hopped out of the car and opened the door for Battista, then turned and ran into the building, hollering for help.