Fall of Darkness (The Chronicles of Darkness) (2 page)

Chapter
2

Dominic edged the sleek black Porsche to
the curb and cut the engine. Prudence dictated a less conspicuous vehicle, but
where was the fun in that? Even immortals needed to live a little. Fast cars
were one of the few guilty pleasures he allowed himself in centuries of
servitude. Besides, if a human took undue notice of him, he’d just wipe their
memory.

From his position on the street, Dominic
had an unobstructed view of the cemetery and could watch the Cacciatori graves
without drawing too much attention. Not like anyone was there to care. The
cemetery and surrounding streets remained completely devoid of the living.

She would come. He knew she would.

As though summoned by his thoughts, a
yellow Mini Cooper appeared in his rearview mirror, approaching from the south.
The Mini passed him and turned into the cemetery parking lot.

“There you are,” Dominic whispered.
“Right on time.”

He watched in silence as the dark haired
woman stepped out of the car and crossed the lawn, her stride graceful and
unhurried as she glided through the graves.

So this was Katerina, or Kate, as she
was called. The name suited her.

She wasn’t what he’d expected. Not at
all. She was… Dominic couldn’t find words to describe her. Her presence hit him
like a freight train on a runaway track.

He felt the inexplicable sensation of
the earth and heavens moving, as though the revolution of his world had shifted
from the sun to her. Shaking his head, he struggled against the irresistible
force tugging at his senses and muddling his mind, drawing him to her as if in
answer to a siren’s call.

A completely foreign part of him, tucked
away in some hidden corner, deep inside, staked possessive claim to her without
consulting any part of him that actually thought before making decisions. He
couldn’t remember who he was. He couldn’t remember why he was there.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered
except Kate
.
His Kate. Forever. End of discussion.

He shook his head. His Kate? What the hell
was wrong with him? He’d never reacted to any woman with this kind of
thoughtless intensity. A no strings attached night of crazy animal circus sex? Hell
yeah, he was more than game. None of this insane, possessive mine forever talk.

The most improbable of answers took root
in the back of his mind, a tiny seed of a thought, no less alarming for its
size.
Il cambiamento,
the werewolf version of soul mates. More than love
at first sight, it was the point in a male’s life when everything else ceased
to matter, but the mate upon whom he imprinted.

No, it couldn’t be. Not only was he one
hundred percent certain she wasn’t a werewolf, but he was ninety-nine point
nine percent sure she was a vampire. Yeah right, and Hell just froze over. A
hawk and a piranha had a better chance of mating.

            Studying
her appearance, Dominic scrambled for a more sensible reason for such atypical
behavior. True, she was beautiful, breathtaking even. He already knew that. He’d
seen her pictures, but the pictures in her file didn’t do her justice. No
picture could.

She wore no makeup, but her striking
features required no such paltry enhancement or artifice. She was fresh faced
and lovely. Her eyes glowed big and bright, beneath perfectly arched brows. He
could not see their color from where he sat, but he knew without a doubt they
were a rich shade of green, two sparkling emeralds the hue of spring leaves
after the rain.

Her high cheek bones complemented a
narrow chin and full lips. Beneath a faded ball cap, her thick ebony hair was
tied back at the nape of her neck, a mane of black satin curling down past her
shoulders. Her porcelain skin, even with the flush of cold in her cheeks, was
unnaturally fair for the darkness of her hair and features, much like an
exquisitely crafted china doll, beautiful and striking in its contrast.

As if following a mind of their own, his
eyes trailed downward to feast on a body made to drive a man insane. His gaze
traced hungrily over the tempting curves of generous breasts, a tiny waist,
rounded hips, and long sculpted legs.

He knew exactly what those curves looked
like in a barely-there bikini and the thought drove him wild. His body pulsed
with desire, his every nerve firing to life as his vision followed the gentle
sway of her hips. Mm hmm, crazy animal circus sex sounded right up his alley right
about now.

With a vampire? His rational self
shuddered in revulsion at the thought. Reality dragged Dominic out of the
clouds of lust, leaving him to crash and burn back in the world he actually
lived in. He was instantly ashamed of his betrayal, conscious or not.

No excuses.

This woman was the enemy. Dominic shook
his head in self disgust, fighting to clear the haze of desire. Denying the
bizarre feelings she incited in him, he fought the strange magnetic pull
drawing him to her. He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes, opening
them slowly as he exhaled.

He felt like himself again. Cool and
disconnected. Ready. Whatever that other thing was, it was tucked safely away
in a padlocked box, never to be revisited again.

He studied her with a more analytical
eye, searching for the signs of her kind, for some indication a change was
imminent. Her alabaster skin could be indicative of the genetic anemia, or she
could just be naturally fair skinned. The dark shadows beneath her eyes were
present on all vampires, but could also be the human result of sleepless
nights. Nothing conclusive, but a start.

Oh, who was he kidding? He knew she was
one of them. He could smell her from clear over there. What was it about this
woman that had him making excuses?

Dominic reached for the gun resting on
the seat beside him, methodically locking the magazine in place and releasing
the safety. Lowering his window, he leveled the weapon and took careful aim at
his target.

His finger tensed on the trigger. He
stopped.

With a self disgusted sigh, he put the
gun down.

Damn it. He couldn’t do it. Why couldn’t
he do it?

Point, shoot, leave. It was easy as one,
two, three. He’d done it countless times before. So, why was he still sitting
here? With his head in his hands, he fought the losing battle against the
doubts in his mind.

“You’re losing it, Dom. Get a grip,” he
muttered to himself.

The trouble was, he’d read her file.
Yeah, that was it. She appeared to be an ordinary person, a good person. He’d
never killed one of those before. He’d been judge, jury, and executioner for
many murderous demons, but never for an innocent.

How could he kill her for future sins
she might commit? Logic argued she was a Cacciatori. The very name meant hunter
in his native tongue. Given time, she would lose herself to the nature of her
kind. She would be just another one of those soul stealing, blood sucking
demons.

Dominic would kill her then, but not
now. He couldn’t do it now. Not when she seemed so good. The woman had just
finished one of her weekly shifts feeding the homeless, for hell’s sake. Next
she’d probably be rescuing lost puppies or championing baby seals. What kind of
vampire did that? None he’d ever met.

This Kate was kind and generous, an innocent.
A sound explanation for his uncharacteristic reservations about killing her.
Never mind how the mere sight of her made him insane with lust. Nor the fact
she made him feel things he’d never imagined possible. That had nothing to do
with it. Or so he would keep telling himself, lie or not.

When the time came, he would destroy
her. Then, but not a minute sooner. Satisfied with this new solution, he
relaxed.

Dominic watched her through the dark
glass, a reluctant smile twitching at the corners of his lips. She fascinated
him. The time spent waiting for her to change would be far from boring, of that
much he was sure.

Resting his head against the seat, he
waited as she paid her respects. Several minutes passed before she turned and
walked to her car.

With an abrupt stop, she whipped her head
around to stare in his direction, as though sensing his presence for the first
time.

Dominic jerked to attention. She
couldn’t see him, could she? He would swear she stared straight at him across
the distance and through the tinted glass. But that would be impossible.

His muscles tensed with anticipation,
waiting for her next move. Whatever spooked her seemed to pass, though she
ambled toward her car with more hurried steps than before.

“That’s right, relax,” he urged, soothing
her with the power of his words, while gently stripping her mind of the memory
of the Porsche, just to be safe.

After a few short minutes, he watched
her car pull out of sight. Retrieving the phone from his pocket, Dominic dialed
the number he knew by heart. A recording recited the number he’d dialed. A
chime indicated it was time to speak.

“It’s me. There’s been a complication.
It may not be her. I need more time. Wait for my call. D.”

Dominic hung up the phone and tucked it
away. Raking his fingers through his hair, he met his reflection’s gaze in the
mirror. Uncertainty lingered in those familiar brown depths for the first time
in his life. Firing the Porsche to life, Dominic pulled away from the curb and
traced the path Kate had taken.

Dominic squared his shoulders. Enough of
this self doubt shit. Ready or not, the game was on.

Her time would come and he would be
ready.

Kate knelt in the moist grass, oblivious
to the damp chill penetrating the denim of her jeans. The rain had waned to a
light drizzle earlier in the morning, eventually slowing to a complete stop.
The weatherman predicted snow in the afternoon, but it appeared the storm would
sweep on northward without too much of a fuss, thrilling news to Kate. She
liked snow well enough, but for Christmas, not in September. That was Illinois
weather for you. Eighty degrees one day, snow the next.

Kate inhaled deeply, relishing the
fresh, clean scent left behind by a morning of rain. Releasing her breath
slowly, she watched the puff of steam contrast with the wintry air. With an
involuntary shiver, she tugged the edges of her jacket tighter around her. The
air felt unusually cool for early fall, nipping at her flushed cheeks and nose.

Her eyes swept the cemetery, finding it
empty. Good. Kate preferred to be alone when she came here. She found it easier
to remember when alone, left to search the shadows of her mind in peace.

 Focusing on the flat stone slab in
front of her, Kate shrugged her purse off her shoulder and deposited a bright
bouquet of wild flowers into the vase in the ground. With her hands, she swept
the fresh lawn clippings from the worn stone beneath. She traced the etched
names with the pad of her finger, first one, and then the other.

Adri and Robert Torres, her real mother
and father.

Faded shadows of the strangers who’d
been her parents danced fleetingly at the edges of her mind. Fuzzy memories of
a beautiful, chestnut haired woman with bright eyes and a warm smile mingled
with those of a dark man, full of laughter. She clung to the hazy recollection,
struggling to expound on the tiny fragments, but they eluded her.

Wrinkling her forehead in concentration,
she fought to keep the memories at the surface. They were mere glimpses of a
forgotten past, faded by passing time and fresher memories. A new life with
different parents eclipsed the older memories in her mind.

Not quite two years old when she’d been
adopted by Lori and David Murdock, she retained no memory of the car accident
that took her real parents. The tips of her fingers unconsciously rose to trace
the pucker of thick, white scar tissue over her heart. They’d been killed on
impact, while she’d survived virtually unscathed.

When Kate discovered her birth parents’
identities, she’d been disappointed to learn they’d died. After locating their
graves, she visited regularly. Though she came to pay her respects, she
actually came searching for answers to her recurring nightmares. Deep in her
gut, she sensed they were the key somehow.

During her visits, Kate always talked to
them as though they were really there. A small part of her believed that
wherever they were now, they heard her and enjoyed knowing how her life
progressed.

“Hi guys. It’s me again,” she said to
the stone in front of her, pressing past the twinge of awkward
self-consciousness of talking to nothing but stone. So what if she looked a
little crazy. 

“Um, not much has changed with me. I’m
still working nights as a nurse in the ER. I have the best job. My coworkers
are amazing, there’s always so much to learn, and I feel like I can make a
difference.

“I almost have enough saved up for my
health service mission. The way things are going, I might get to spend next
summer in Africa. We’ll see though…”