Out of Time (27 page)

“How?” she asked. That was too simple a question, but the best she could do.

King seemed pleased at the question. “Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?” he said and then shook his head, ever the gracious host. “Would you like to sit? Your legs look about to give way. It is quite a shock.”

He was right about that. Her knees hadn’t stopped wobbling. “Standing’s fine, thanks.”

“As you wish,” he said and then walked to the center table. He ran his finger over one of the small figures. “Eight years ago, when Carter discovered Tutankhamen’s tomb, I knew I had to have a part of the treasure. From one King to another. It began merely as avarice, to have something so unique. To own it. But once the artifacts began arriving, it grew into something much more.” He looked around the room proudly. “Much more.”

“I’d recently inherited my father’s business,” he said without an ounce of sarcasm. “He was killed by rivals, and I assumed the mantle of command but had no desire to die an early death. They’re quite common in my line of work. I’d read of the ancient Egyptian’s beliefs in eternal life, and set out to discover their secrets. How to cheat death.”

Elizabeth’s knees had stopped wobbling, but she didn’t dare move. King walked smoothly around the room as he told her his story. It was so shockingly antithetical to the demon she’d seen, the pleasant timbre of his voice, the graceful movements.

“My brother, it seems, had different ideas. He’d always been jealous of the favor our father showed me,” he said and shrugged indifferently. “It devoured him, until he tried to kill me. Technically he succeeded, but his plans, like everything else in his life, didn’t quite work out. He aligned himself with a group of vampires.”

“You mean there are lots of you?”

He smiled indulgently. “Not anymore. But I digress. My brother’s first mistake was to trust them. They’re stupid creatures, guided only by lust and hunger. They exist only to feed. No better than drug addicts.”

As if sensing her unspoken question, he continued. “I am, as I said, not just a vampire. The demon doesn’t control me, I control it.”

She knew that was only partially true. When he’d let the demon out, his control had faltered. For those brief, infinitely long moments, he’d been nothing more than a beast, wanting only the kill.

“But these creatures were like animals, no discipline, no thought. Pathetic,” he said and gave a mirthless laugh. “This group, although rather inept, had managed to function as a small gang. My brother offered them a chance for a bigger score, to climb the food chain, as it were.”

Even in her fright, Elizabeth found herself listening with rapt attention. A gang of vampires loose on the streets of New York City. The underworld run by, well, the underworld.

“The ambush was ill-conceived and poorly executed,” King continued. “My brother wanted to strike me down here, in this very room. His version of irony, I suppose. But I’d gotten wind of his plan and was prepared in ways they couldn’t imagine. Of course, they were supposed to kill me, but they betrayed my brother, to no one’s surprise but his own. Why take the runt of the litter when you can have the best? They wanted to make me one of them, add to their cadre. Fools.”

He stopped pacing and turned to face her. “The Egyptians were right. Death isn’t the end, it’s merely a bridge. That very day, I performed the ritual for preserving the soul. When they tried to turn me, I retained my soul. The typical victim is no more than a shell, a husk that provides the demon with access to this world. But my soul was bonded to my body, and it made me more powerful than they could imagine. A demon and a soul yoked together.”

Elizabeth shuddered. That explained the dual personality she’d sensed. “And your brother?”

King’s eyes sparked. “He was the last to die, and the most pleasurable to kill.”

Her knees threatened to buckle. She was standing in a room with a mass murderer. A demon. How often did he kill? How did he choose his victims? Was she next? Why hadn’t he killed her when he had the chance? She tried the door handle again, and to her surprise, felt it turn. It wasn’t locked. In her panic, she must have turned it the wrong way.

“You were always free to leave,” he said.

Despite the voice in her head screaming for her to run, to run and never look back, there was a chorus of other voices asking questions, questions she and Simon had spent years trying to answer.

She looked at King and said the only thing she could. “I’m sorry.”

His back straightened. “I didn’t tell you this for pity.”

“Why did you tell me?”

He regarded her calmly. “Because it’s what I am.”

“But why me?”

He walked over to her, and she somehow managed to stand her ground. He stroked her cheek with his gloved hand. “How does any man answer that question? You are an amazing woman.”

She tried not to shrink back from his touch. “I don’t understand.”

He smiled enigmatically and stepped back. “I don’t suppose you do. Yet.”

Her head was throbbing and his cryptic answers weren’t helping any. She ran a hand over her forehead and massaged her temple. She had the beginnings of one hell of a headache.

He pulled a watch chain from his pocket. “It’s late, and you’re obviously tired,” he said, once again the well-mannered host. “We can continue this another time.”

“You’re letting me go?”

“I told you that you were always free to go.”

There had to be a catch. There was always a catch. “And you won’t hurt anyone. Simon or Charlie?”

“That’s up to you. Every action has a consequence.”

She could leave, but he’d know every move she made, and Simon would pay the price. “So, I’m not really free at all, am I?”

“We’re all bound by the choices we make,” he said and reached into his breast pocket. “I don’t think you’d want to leave town without this.” He held out his hand, and resting in his palm was Simon’s scarab ring.

She felt her stomach drop. “Where did you get that?”

“I could ask you the same question,” he said and held it up to the light. “Very unusual. One of a kind?”

“That doesn’t belong to you.”

“Oh, I think it does. But I am curious. How did you come by it?”

“A family heirloom, and I’d appreciate it if you’d give it back to me,” she said and held out her hand.

“Perhaps,” he said and slipped it back into his pocket. “In time. As I said, I’m a patient man.”

And one who had, literally, all the time in the world.

Simon leaned on the far end of the bar and stared down at his clenched fists. It had taken all of Charlie’s strength to keep him from forcing his way out into the night and blindly banging on doors until he found King. He knew it would have been useless, but anything had to be better than waiting. He’d spent the first two hours pacing in the back room, until the walls started to close in. Being in the bar was no better. Every time someone laughed he wanted to cram it back down their throat. Every minute that scratched by took another layer of skin. Every glass of whiskey that passed over the bar called his name. He ached for a drink, anything to blur the horrific images that cluttered his mind.

A vampire. His worst suspicions confirmed. Elizabeth was with the creature and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do but wait. He clenched his fist until the knuckles strained white. Useless. Bloody useless. He wanted to rage, to hit something until his hands were as raw as he felt inside.

A man shouldered up to the bar and tapped Simon on the shoulder. “Ain’t ya gonna play or what?”

Simon blinked a few times and then turned to the man with a withering gaze.

Charlie interrupted before things got worse. “Ankle it. Go on. Get,” he grunted and pulled the man forcibly by the lapels away from Simon. “Sorry ’bout that, Professor.”

One more hour. He’d give her one more hour to return, then he’d take the city apart brick by brick till he found her. Charlie’s assurances that if King wanted to hurt Elizabeth he’d have already done it weren’t comforting. Going in half-cocked and getting himself killed wouldn’t help her either. Damn it. There had to be something he could do.

If only he’d been more careful with the watch. If he’d only pushed her away when the light had enveloped him. If only. A thousand chances to keep her out of harm’s way, each one missed. Each missed opportunity had brought her a step closer to him, and the death his very presence would inevitably bring. Or had it already? Was she…?

He pushed that thought aside ferociously. No, she wasn’t. She couldn’t be. It was his fate to watch. He knew that as surely as anything. When the time came, he’d bear witness to it. He took morose comfort in the thought. A drowning man will grasp even the blade of a sword.

There had to be something he could do, some way to protect her. Was he so pathetic as to let fate wrench away the only thing that meant anything to him without a fight? He’d spent years studying the bloody things. They had weaknesses. King had to have a weakness.

Vampires could be destroyed, he knew that much. They were strong, but not invincible. He needed weapons, tools, something, anything. If King harmed one hair on Elizabeth’s head, he’d kill him with his bare hands if he had to.

“Professor?”

Simon looked at Charlie expecting to see the same haggard, worried face he’d seen for the last few hours.

“Told ya,” Charlie said, grinning from ear to ear. He mopped his brow with the bar rag and nodded toward the door. “She’s back.”

Simon turned and Elizabeth was standing in the doorway. She looked tired and pale, and more beautiful than ever. He strode across the bar, one step behind his heart, and gathered her into his arms in a crushing embrace.

“I’m all right,” she said.

He pulled back to look into her eyes. He needed to see her face to be sure.

“Really,” she said with a small smile.

His hands cupped her cheeks as he searched her eyes. Her skin was warm, alive, but even that reassurance didn’t stop him from sliding them down her neck.

She pulled away and looked at him accusingly. “What are you doing?”

“I had to be sure.”

Her brow shot up. “You know?”

“Charlie told me.”

She pulled back, her eyes clouded with confusion and betrayal. “Charlie knows?”

“Lizzy!” Charlie said.

“I’ll tell you later,” Simon whispered, before Charlie pulled her into a bear hug. Her body tensed as Charlie held her arms.

“You look all right,” Charlie said, as he held her at arm’s length. “I was so worried, thought I might have kittens.”

“I’m all right, just tired,” she said wriggling out of his embrace.

Charlie stood awkwardly for a moment still holding her arm. “Sure. Course ya are.”

“We’re going home,” Simon said and eased her out of Charlie’s grasp.

“Right. Yeah,” Charlie said, and smiled at Elizabeth. “Sure glad you’re okay, Lizzy.”

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes glinting with mistrust, and slipped her hand into Simon’s. “Let’s just get out of here.”

Simon hurried them along the dark streets. As much as he wanted to know what had happened, he needed to feel she was safe, and their little flat was as close as he could get.

Once they were home, Elizabeth stood in the middle of the room, her arms wrapped around her chest. Simon came up behind her, and she jumped when he put his hands on her shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly.

She turned and smiled, shaking her head. “It’s okay. I’m just a little jumpy.”

He nodded, trying to hold back the torrent of questions he had, giving her the space she needed, but it was killing him to do it.

Elizabeth sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes fixed on the far wall before looking up at him.

“Charlie knew? This whole time?”

Simon shook his head and sat down next to her. “I think I understand his reasons, but that’s not important right now.”

He took her hand in his, warm and human, thank God. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, a frown wrinkling her brow.

Simon tried to steal himself for the worst. She didn’t appear to be injured, but she was clearly in shock. His mind reeled with possibilities, each more horror-filled than the last.

“Tell me what happened.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but paused.

“Did he…Did he touch you?”

“No,” she answered quickly, and Simon felt one of the fists that clenched his heart ease its grip, but he had to be sure. He looked at her closely, into her eyes for any hint of something hiding from him.

She smiled sympathetically, patiently—his Elizabeth through and through.

“I’m fine, really. Freaked out, but fine.”

Finally, Simon’s heart began to slow.

“He was a perfect gentleman,” she said with a bitter laugh, “when he wasn’t threatening you or Charlie.”

Slowly, she told him everything. She didn’t know where she’d been taken. The limousine had curtains in the back, and they’d remained closed for the trip. Judging from the distance she’d traveled, she guessed it was somewhere uptown, but couldn’t be more specific than that. She described the lavish apartment and recounted the details of King’s change with chilling precision. The academic part of Simon’s brain catalogued each detail of the creature’s appearance, while all his heart wanted to do was to tell her to stop, to blot out the last twenty-hours and spirit her away.

She told him all she could remember of their conversations, including the chilling revelation that King had been not only following them, but actively investigating them. Who knew what, besides his grandfather’s ring, King had gotten from Smitty at the pawnshop. Simon tried to remember the scene to see if they’d inadvertently let any telling details slip.

“I guess there’s nothing to do but wait,” she said finally. “It’s only a week until the eclipse.”

“Too much can happen in a week,” Simon said, as he pushed off the bed and started to pace.

“What else can we do?” she asked, and then quickly read his expression. “We can’t leave. He’ll follow us.”

He gritted his teeth and shook his head. “Have I mentioned how much I hate this?”

“I know,” she said. “And I’m so sorry about your grandfather’s ring.”