Night's Master (17 page)

Rafe held Kathy close to his side. As always, her nearness was both pleasure and pain. Her skin was like smooth satin beneath his fingertips, her breasts were warm and softly rounded, tempting him almost beyond his ability to resist. The lingering fragrance of her perfume teased his nostrils, the scent of her blood aroused all his senses.

So easy to take her, to make her his, to make her what he was. So easy…if he didn’t mind incurring her hatred, perhaps for however long he lived. Ah, but what a beautiful Vampire she would make, forever young, forever his….

He shook the thought from his mind. She was smart not to get too involved with him. The world was turning, changing. The war between his kind and the Werewolves had jolted humanity out of its lethargy. He was amazed at how swiftly they had recognized the danger, how quickly they were responding, recruiting hunters, destroying Vampires and Werewolves alike. He wondered if the hotheads who had started the war were still alive, if they realized the full extent of what their folly might cost, or if Mara and Clive had hunted them down and destroyed them before they could cause any more trouble.

He recalled what Mara had said about humans finding a cure for the Werewolves. How like humankind, to assume the Werewolves wanted to be cured. And what of his kind? If he had a choice, would he want to be mortal again?

He caressed Kathy’s cheek. She loved him, but would she ever be able to accept him as he was? If it meant being with her, he would willingly embrace being mortal again if such a thing were possible, and yet, how much better if she would accept the Dark Gift. Instead of sixty or seventy years together, they could have centuries.

But it was a moot point at best, at least for now.

He thought of Joe Cagin and Susie McGee. Though Cagin was a shape-shifter and Susie a Werewolf, they had a far better chance of making a life together than did a mortal and a Vampire.

He grunted thoughtfully. Perhaps he should ask Mara to share her blood with him. For all intents and purposes, his parents and grandparents seemed to be nearly human again. They still needed blood to survive, though not as much as ordinary Vampires and not as often. The sun no longer had any power over them; they could rest by day or by night.

But before he could contemplate any kind of life with Kathy, he had to make sure that the war between the Vampires and the Werewolves was over once and for all. He wondered if the Supernatural creatures understood that their only hope of survival was to disappear for a while, to lull the human world into believing that life had returned to normal, that the Supernatural creatures were no longer a threat to their way of life, or to their existence. Once there was peace between the Supernatural community, once mortals assumed that they were again in control of their world, that would be the time to pursue his feelings for the woman sleeping at his side.

Rafe stayed with Kathy until the first pink glow of dawn lit the sky. After dropping a kiss on her cheek, he left her house, quietly cursing himself for staying so long. Though he could be active during the day, he was not yet immune to the effects of the sun’s light. He ran to his car, felt the sun’s rays burn through the back of his shirt as he opened the door and flung himself behind the wheel. Grabbing his sunglasses, he put them on and raced the rising sun toward his lair.

Reaching home, he drove into the garage and closed the door behind him. Removing his sunglasses, he got out of the car and went into the house.

He stood inside for a moment, waiting for the blistering pain to pass, and then, blowing out a deep breath, he made his way to the room where he spent the daylight hours. There were no lights in this room, only blessed darkness, a king-size bed, a small satellite screen, and a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf crammed with books—mostly murder mysteries.

But he was in no mood to watch the news or lose himself in another Montgomery mystery. At the moment, he had far more pressing matters to think about. Although the war between the Supernatural creatures was virtually over, another battle loomed on the horizon, this one bigger and perhaps more ferocious than the one between the Werewolves and the Vampires had been. The Supernatural creatures hadn’t been fighting to exterminate one another, only to see who would reign supreme. Thanks to Mara and Clive, they would be fighting on the same side now, fighting for their survival. The Werewolves would carry the battle during the day, the Vampires after dark.

The first task would be to locate the hunters and neutralize them, which would be no easy task, since no one knew exactly how many there were. The Werewolves and the Vampires could work on that together, he thought, perhaps in pairs. The Werewolves could locate the hunters during the day, the Vampires could catch them unawares at night and erase the desire to destroy Supernatural creatures from their minds. Clive was of the opinion that the hunters should be killed, but Mara had been against that, arguing that murdering them would only stir up more trouble. The second task would be to find out if talk of a cure was true, and if so, what effect it would have on the Werewolves and the Vampires. The shape-shifters would no doubt be immune. Since they were born, not made, there was nothing to cure.

Rafe stripped down to his briefs and slid beneath the quilt his grandmother the witch had made for him when he was still in his teens. She had sewn it with needle and thread and love, and imbued it with a touch of magic to keep his bad dreams at bay.

It embarrassed him now to remember that he had once been plagued by nightmares. Or daymares, he thought ruefully, since he slept when the sun was up. The dream had begun shortly after his thirteenth birthday. Every day, the same dream. He was walking down a dark street, searching for prey, and then he would see her, a woman with long blond hair. He approached her from the back, lifted her hair from her neck to drink. And then, to his horror, he was unable to stop. He took it all, her blood, her thoughts, her memories, and then he opened the vein in his wrist and poured it all back into her. When the deed was done, she looked at him through eyes as red as hellfire, and then she buried her fangs in his throat and drained him dry, until only a withered, empty husk remained. Helpless, he lay there, writhing in agony as he waited for the sun’s light to find him.

He had never told anyone about his dream until, without meaning to, he had mentioned it to his grandmother. The quilt had been on his bed the next day. He had never had that dream again.

Kathy’s image rose in his mind and with it, as sharp as a dagger, the realization that her hair was the same golden color as that of the woman in his nightmare.

The rumble of thunder woke me. I shivered, thinking it sounded ominous somehow, then chided myself for letting my imagination get the best of me. It was just thunder.

Rising, I showered, dressed, ate breakfast, and went to work.

It was still raining when I opened the shop. Thinking that I probably wouldn’t have much business if the downpour continued, I booted up my computer and read my e-mail. Nothing particularly exciting—a lot of jokes I had received a dozen times before, the usual amount of spam. I shook my head in disgust. With all the advances in technology, you’d think they could do something about unwanted e-mail from companies offering everything from male enhancement to get-rich-quick schemes. I loved the ones from supposed foreigners who were willing to split millions of dollars with me if I would just give them access to my bank account. Like that was ever going to happen!

I looked up as the bell over the door rang, surprised to see Travis Jackson enter the store. Rain dripped from his hat and the hem of his coat. Belatedly, I realized I should have put down some rugs or towels so I wouldn’t have to mop the floor every time somebody came into the shop, although, up until now, it hadn’t been a problem.

Travis smiled as he sauntered toward me. There was something decidedly smug in his expression. I wondered if he had spent the previous night destroying the Undead.

“Afternoon, Kathy,” he said cheerfully.

“Hi.” I had to force myself to be civil to the man. I didn’t want him wondering why my attitude toward him had changed, didn’t want him asking questions I didn’t want to answer. “What brings you out on a day like this?”

“I figured you wouldn’t have much business, and I thought maybe you’d like to go out for a cup of coffee.”

“I don’t think so.” I had no desire to spend time with a man who had cheerfully offered to kill Susie if her husband wasn’t up to the job.

“Come on,” Travis coaxed. “It’s just a cup of coffee.”

Since I couldn’t tell him why I didn’t want to have coffee with him, I needed a good excuse. I just wished I had one. “I’m sorry, I can’t,” I said. “I’m…I’m expecting an important phone call from…from one of the major book distributors back east.”

He didn’t believe me; I could see it in the sudden narrowing of his eyes.

“There was a mix-up in one of my orders,” I said, making things up as I went along. “I need to get it resolved right away, you know, and with the time difference between here and New York…” I shrugged. “You know how it is.”

He grunted softly. “Yeah, sure, maybe I’ll see you later.”

The tone of his voice sent an icy chill down my spine.

I breathed a sigh of relief when he left, bemused by the realization that if it came to a choice between spending time with Travis Jackson or with the Supernatural community, I felt safer on the dark side with the Vampires and the Werewolves.

I finished reading my mail, then moved through the stacks, straightening a book here, turning a couple of the newer ones face out. With nothing else to do, I swept the floor, dusted the shelves, watered the plants.

I was thinking about going out for a late lunch, or maybe just closing up for the day, when Jackson showed up again.

“I figured since you wouldn’t go out for coffee with me, I’d bring it to you.”

I didn’t want to take anything from the man, but it smelled divine. “Thank you.”

He handed me one of the cups. “Careful, it’s hot.” He rested an elbow on the counter. “So, how do you like Oak Hollow, now that you’re settled in?”

I shrugged. “It’s a nice place.”

He grunted softly, then sipped his coffee.

Removing the lid from my cup, I took a drink and then frowned. “What kind of coffee is this? It tastes kind of…of…” I blinked, then rubbed a hand over my eyes as everything seemed to go kind of gray and hazy.

Travis smiled an odd little smile as he took the cup from my hand, and then everything went black.

Cold, so cold.

Hard floor beneath me.

Bad taste in my mouth.

I opened one eye, closed it, and opened both eyes. The scene didn’t change. Bare walls, a naked bulb overhead. I was dreaming, I thought, having a nightmare. I closed my eyes, waiting for it to end.

I got colder, the floor beneath me seemed to get harder, and I had to go to the bathroom.

I wasn’t dreaming.

I opened my eyes again and sat up. What the hell? In the faint light cast by the low-watt bulb dangling by a cord, I could see that I was in a room of some kind, but a very strange room. The walls were silver, the floor was silver, the ceiling was silver. I ran my fingers over the floor, thinking it was just paint, but when I tapped my fingernails on it, it sounded like metal, not concrete.

I tried standing, but my legs refused to support me, so I crawled toward the door, which was also coated with silver.

I frowned, trying to think why silver was important, but my mind was fuzzy, and I couldn’t concentrate. Reaching up, I tried to open the door. It was locked, of course.

I wrapped my arms around my waist and closed my eyes. This had to be a nightmare. It just had to be, but when I pinched myself, it hurt. It wasn’t supposed to hurt in a dream, so where was I and how had I gotten here?

The last thing I remembered was talking to Travis Jackson. He had brought me a cup of coffee. It hit me, then. Travis had drugged me, but why?

Rising to my knees, I pounded my fist on the door. “Travis? Travis, are you out there?” I pounded on the door until my fist ached. “Travis! Dammit, let me out of here!”

Sinking down on the floor, I blinked back the tears that stung my eyes. Crying wouldn’t help me now.

Closing my eyes again, I tried to focus. Travis had drugged me and brought me here, but why, and where was here?

I guess I dozed off, because the sound of the door opening woke me. Blinking, I stared at the figure hovering over me.

Now I knew I was dreaming.

“Hello, dear,” Pearl said. “We thought you might like something to eat.” She placed a tray on the floor in front of me. “I hope you like chicken salad sandwiches.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “What am I doing here?”

Pearl make a little tsking sound. “I’m afraid you’re the bait, dear.”

“The bait?”

She nodded.

“What are you hoping to catch?”

“Why, a Vampire, of course,” Edna said from the doorway. “We’re sorry it had to be you, but…” She blew out a sigh of regret. “Rafe chose you.”

“You want to catch Rafe?” I shook my head, hoping to clear it. “But why? And why do you need me? You know where he lives….”

“It’s not wise to go to a Vampire’s lair,” Pearl said. “We told you that, but you didn’t listen.”

“Why do you want Rafe?”

“We need another Vampire guinea pig, one with power. Now that all the other Vamps have left town, he’ll have to do.” Edna glanced at Pearl. “We’d hoped to get Rafe’s grandfather, or maybe Mara herself, although I’m not sure we could have held her.”

“We’ll get her, dear,” Pearl said reassuringly. “Sooner or later, we’ll get them all.”

I glanced from Edna to Pearl. “You’re hunters?” I looked at their colorful skirts, their outrageous hats and comfortable shoes, and found it inconceivable that these two women, both grandmothers well into their seventies, went around staking Vampires and lopping the heads off Werewolves.

“Of course, dear.”

“We used to run a school down in Texas,” Edna said wistfully. “Those were the days!”

Texas,
I thought. Travis Jackson was from Texas.

Pearl smiled. “We were important then! People looked up to us, respected us.” She sighed wistfully. “Now, when the new hunters look at us, all they see are a couple of has-beens, but we’ll show them!”

“Yes, indeed,” Edna said, a hint of madness shining in her eyes. “We’ll destroy more Vampires and Were-creatures with our formula than all those hunters with their stakes and silver bullets combined.”

Hunters. A school in Texas. I frowned. “You said you’d always lived in Oak Hollow.”

“We’ve always maintained a residence here, dear, even when we lived in Texas. My grandson took over the family business when Edna and I retired.”

“Retiring,” Edna said. “It was a big mistake.”

Pearl nodded. “Yes, indeed, but they’ll remember us now.”

I shook my head again. It didn’t make sense. Edna and Pearl had told me about Travis, told me where the Werewolves met…warned me not to be alone with Rafe. Why?

“Travis,” I said with sudden clarity. “He’s your grandson, isn’t he?”

Pearl beamed at me. “Yes, indeed. Such a good boy.”

“And the best hunter to come along in years, except for my Jeffrey,” Edna added with a grin.

“Let’s not have this argument again,” Pearl said with some asperity. “Travis is the best, and he has the kills to prove it.”

I stared at the two of them, unable to believe they were standing there arguing about who was the best hunter while I sat on the floor suffering the aftereffects of being drugged and kidnapped.

“Eat your lunch, dear,” Pearl said, moving toward the door. “It’ll be dark in an hour or so, and we have a lot of work to do before the sun goes down.”

Sundown, I thought, and Rafe would be looking for me. He was the only hope I had, but I didn’t want him to find me, didn’t want his life to be in danger because of me. Closing my eyes, I tried to send him a mental warning to stay away, but I couldn’t focus, couldn’t think past the growing fear in my heart and the nagging pain in my head.

I stared at the food on the tray. How did they expect me to eat when my life, and Rafe’s, were in danger? Still, I forced myself to pick up the sandwich, to take one bite and then another. Even though I wasn’t hungry, I had to eat, had to regain my strength for whatever the night might hold.

When I was finished, I pushed the tray away, then curled up on the floor and closed my eyes. All I could do now was rest, wait, and pray.

I lost track of time as I lay there. I dozed and woke and dozed again, and then, as clearly as if I could see him, I knew Rafe was nearby.

Scrambling to my feet, I pressed my ear to the door, hoping to hear what was going on in the next room, but to no avail.

Though my legs still felt like rubber, I paced the floor, all the time wondering what was going on in the other room. Where was Rafe? Were Edna and Pearl still in the building somewhere? What about Travis? And Susie? Was she still with Cagin?

The ache in my head grew worse. Pressing my hands against my temples, I leaned against the wall, quietly cursing Travis Jackson and his crazy grandmother.

I jerked upright when the door opened and Travis sauntered inside, looking smug. Before I could ask what was going on, he cuffed my hands behind my back, grabbed me by the arm, and hustled me outside and into the back of a large, nondescript gray van.

“Where are we going?” I had to ask, even though I knew he wouldn’t answer.

My heart skipped a beat when he dropped a black hood over my head. Visions of being shoved against a wall and executed crowded my mind, making it hard to breathe.

I heard the door slam, and then the van lurched forward. I sat on the floor a moment, then lowered my head and shook off the hood. It didn’t help much. The inside of the van was dark, the windows painted over so that I couldn’t see outside. A sliver of light penetrated the crack in the double doors.

With a sigh, I stretched my legs out in front of me, gasped when my foot hit something. Peering into the darkness, I saw a large cage pushed up against one wall of the van. Looking closer, I realized there was a man locked inside, his hands bound behind his back. His feet were also bound. A thick black hood similar to the one I had shaken off covered his head, and even though I couldn’t see his face, I knew it was Rafe.

I took a closer look at the shackles around his ankles. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought the restraints were silver. A sense of hopelessness fell over me like a shroud as I recalled Rafe telling me that silver burned a Vampire’s flesh and rendered them powerless.

It was creepy, riding in the back of the van, unable to see where I was going. I kept hoping I was having another nightmare, but the ache in my head and the growing ache in my shoulders was all too real. I wondered what time it was.

It seemed we had been driving for hours before Rafe stirred. He lifted his head, as though sniffing the air. “Kathy?”

My spirits rose a little at the sound of his voice. “I’m here.”

“Are you all right?”

“I guess so. For now, at least.”

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know. What happened? How did they get you?”

“Half a dozen hunters, including our old friend, Jackson, were waiting for me at your place. They’re good,” he said with grudging admiration. “They blinded me with holy water and had me trussed up in less than a minute. I should have sensed them,” he muttered, “but…”

“You were too busy thinking about me.”

“Yeah, but that’s no excuse. Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of this.”

I clung to his words as the vehicle made a wide right turn and came to an abrupt halt.

Travis Jackson’s expression was grim when he took hold of my arm and hauled me out of the back of the van. Night had fallen, though the moon had not yet risen. Gazing into the darkness, I couldn’t see much of anything except for a huge two-story building surrounded by a high block wall topped with barbed wire.

Once I was out of the van, four men built like pro line-backers climbed into the vehicle. I tried to hang back so I could see what they were doing to Rafe, but Travis dragged me down a narrow walkway that ran along the side of the building. Up close, I could see that the structure was built of stone and weathered wood. When Travis unlocked the door, two rows of recessed, overhead lights came on. He gave me a little push, and I stumbled inside. Before I could turn around, he was gone.

I glanced at my surroundings. I was in a large, sterile-looking room that was outfitted with two metal examining tables, complete with tie-down straps. The walls were puke green, the floor was gray and black tile. Several glass-fronted cupboards lined the walls; the shelves were filled with test tubes and beakers in varying sizes, along with several nasty-looking instruments that reminded me of the Spanish Inquisition. Two windows, set high in one wall, were covered by iron bars