Always the Vampire (13 page)

“Can you run a check on two vampires for me?”

I snuggled against the queen-bed headboard and braced for Saber to explode. He surprised me by merely sucking in a breath.

“Trouble?”

“No, and I don’t think there will be.”

He expelled a gusty sigh. “Names?”

“Ken and David, formerly of the Atlanta nest. No last names, if they use them, and I don’t know what they do for jobs. Ken said they were vacationing.”

Keys clicked madly in the background, and I knew Saber was checking the VPA website’s restricted section. Silence stretched on the other end of the phone then more keystrokes. I pulled a pillow onto my lap and played with the lace-edged pillowcase. Waiting.

“Here we go. David Marks, Turned in 1988, and Ken Crandall in 1989. They did register to go on vacation with the Atlanta office. Both are former U.S. Marine Corps officers.”

That explained their military bearing and the ’80s vibe.

“Anything else on them?”

“No problems reported with either of them. David is a web developer. Ken is a dance instructor.”

“Dance instructor?” I said on a chuckle.

“Why is that funny?”

“Because we just spent several hours in a club with both of them.”

“We?”

“The entire bachelorette party, but keep that to yourself. Neil doesn’t need to know.”

“What happens in Fernandina Beach stays there?”

“And what happens at Neil’s bachelor party stays there, too.”

“Fair enough. Did these vampires recognize you?”

“They did, and they thanked me for having a hand in closing the nests.”

I heard Saber drum his fingers. “If this was a positive encounter, what’s bothering you about it?”

I took a breath. “Didn’t you tell me that every last vampire you visited on your nest-closing trip showed signs of Void infection?”

“Are you saying these vamps didn’t?”

“Not even close, Saber, and they’re baby vamps. Triton told me not even Cosmil knows if the disease is spread by magical or mundane means, or both, but—”

“But,” Saber interrupted, “from the way Ray and his crew are suffering, Ken and David would look like petrified raisins if they were ill.”

“Exactly, especially since Vlad was severely infected when the VPA picked him up in August.” I paused. “Unless David and Ken have some sort of immunity like I seem to have. Or unless Starrack is targeting Florida vamps. Is that likely?”

“I don’t know. It’s been over a week since I talked with Candy Crushman in the Atlanta office.”

“There’s no list of sick vampires on the private section of the website?”

“Just the regular tracking records.” He paused, and I pictured him raking a hand through his hair. “I’ll call Candy. See if she’s keeping an account of infected vamps.”

“Okay, but don’t have her order Ken and David back to Atlanta. The guys have a right to finish their vacation.”

“Not if they could get violent at any time.”

“Saber,
I
have the potential to get violent at any time. Doesn’t mean I will, and I think we should give these vampires the benefit of the doubt.”

“All right, but I don’t want you to question them. I mean it, Cesca. I didn’t mention this before, but Candy told me back in August that Vlad had a disproportionate number of former military men in his nest.”

“He was building an army. Like Normand tried to do with Spanish and British soldiers.”

“Vampires who’d take orders without question. The vamps who carried out the sacrifice attack on Candy and Crusher were exmilitary.”

“Saber, I swear. If we see Ken and David again, I won’t interrogate them.” Though maybe I’d have a little just-among-vampires chat with them.

“Meantime, you’re taking precautions, right?”

“I’m patrolling the ladies’ rooms every hour through the night.”

“Won’t the mermaid charms alert you to danger?”

“Theoretically, yes, but I don’t know if they have to be worn to send signals. I didn’t get the chance to ask Cosmil about that detail.”

“Be careful, honey.”

“I will. I’ll have the trusty amulet with me.”

“Good. And, Cesca.” He pitched his voice deeper, into the sexy range than made me go soft and liquid.

“Yes, Deke?”

“We’ll have our own dance when you get home.”

 

 

Rapid knocks jolted me out of a dream about being in Saber’s arms.

“Hey, Cesca, it’s two thirty,” Maggie called from the hallway. “You want to get up now?”

I untangled myself from the sheets, crawled to the foot of the bed, and opened the door.

“Whoa, you weren’t kidding about the odd layout,” she said as she squeezed inside. “This is tight.”

“How is everyone today?” I asked on a yawn. “Hangovers?”

“Not a one. We had brunch, went shopping, and now we’re hitting the beach. I thought my right hand might want to join us.”

“Let me shower and slather on my super sunscreen.”

“Fine. We’ll set up near that little snack shop.” She turned to edge back out the door. “Oh, and Cesca, the girls might want to go dancing again tonight. Will that be a problem?”

I scraped the hair out of my face. “Why would it be?”

“Because I saw you keeping an eagle eye on Ken and David last night.”

“I was just being cautious.”

“You’re certain?”

“Maggie, the vampires aren’t a problem. The danger is one of the girls letting it slip to Neil that you and Jessica—”

“Danced with vampires and enjoyed it. And with her carrying twins. Damn. I didn’t mention our partners to Neil when I called home last night. Did you tell Saber?”

“Yes, but I swore him to secrecy.”

“Good. Except for you, Neil doesn’t trust vamps. No point in upsetting him.” She bit her lip, her expression pleadingly hopeful. “How about this? You enthrall the girls and wipe that part of their collective memories.”

“How about you go be with your friends and I’ll think about it.”

I hustled Maggie out, shaking my head. Me enthrall and wipe memories? That was like asking a slasher to do brain surgery.

 

 

A few hours of beach time were followed by a few hours of rest, and then we met in the hotel lobby to hit a seafood restaurant that had been highly recommended. The conversation flowed easily, more lazily than it had on Friday. I chalked up the calmer energy to spending the afternoon in the sun. Whatever the cause, I figured we’d have a quiet night. Perhaps talking in Maggie’s suite.

I figured wrong, and at nine o’clock we were back at the Painted Lady. Ken and David were there before us and immediately whisked most of the party to the dance floor. If either vampire had heard from Candy Crushman, neither gave any indication.

Or they didn’t until the ladies decided to call it a night, and David and Ken again escorted us to our SUVs. While the women loaded themselves into the cars, the males politely pulled me aside.

“Princess,” Ken said, his tone even, his expression serious. He seemed to choose his words carefully. “We understand you checked up on us, and we understand why.”

I fingered my silver necklace and tried not to gulp.

“Candy talked with you?”

David nodded. “Scuttlebutt has it you know what made our former master ill and that you’re on a mission to stop it from killing the rest of us.”

I searched their faces. “Are either of you sick?”

“We’re healthy. We just aim to thank you.”

I shook my head. “Guys, I’m only one of a number of people trying to stop the infection.”

“Still, ma’am, we appreciate it. You need anything, you call.”

I had to smile. “Call in the Marines?”

“Ooh-rah,”
David said.

Ken nodded and handed me a business card. “Semper Fi
,
ma’am.”

Ken and David’s cell numbers were neatly printed on the back.

 

 

Thanks to a special late checkout time, I got to sleep until three Sunday afternoon. Maggie wasn’t in a tearing hurry to get home, so with the amulet tucked safely in the back pocket of my jean shorts, we hit a dozen garage sales en route and rolled into her driveway shortly after six.

When I offered to help her tackle any wedding RSVPs that had come in, she waved me away. Maybe because Neil had stepped onto the wide wrap-around porch. Talk about a pheromone spike.

“We’ve heard from most people,” she said. “Let’s put it off a day or two.”

I laughed. “Fine. Have fun with your hunk of burnin’ love.”

“You, too,” she said with a wink.

But Saber wasn’t in the cottage.

I propped my little pink bag against the kitchen door frame, but my cell rang before I could pluck the note I spied off the fridge.

“Hey, Princesca,” Saber murmured. “I missed you.”

“So why aren’t you here to show me how much?” I murmured back as I sank into a retro kitchen chair. Ouch. The amulet bit into my butt as it hadn’t in the plush seats of Neil’s car, and I dug it out of my pocket.

“Because Cosmil asked if Lia could stay at my place. She’ll be landing about four tomorrow afternoon.”

“Ah, and you’re cleaning the house.” Which shouldn’t take long, I mused as I spun the amulet on the kitchen table. He kept a neater house than I did—and he hadn’t been living at his place for over a week. “I’m surprised Cosmil isn’t going for safety in numbers. He could always conjure up a bedroom and bath addition to the shanty.”

“I’d love to see that, but Cosmil seems to think Lia will want her privacy.”

“Or maybe Pandora has a jealous streak and doesn’t want another female shacking up with her wizard.”

“Lame joke, Cesca.”

“Long weekend, Saber. Are you about finished cleaning?”

“Yeah, but I found a problem with the hot tub. I want to fix it now, so I’ll be here awhile.”

“Want me to come over and help?”

“Thanks, but no. I need to run out to Cosmil’s when I finish, so I’ll pick up something to eat before I come back to your place.”

“Get more food and litter for Snowball, too.”

“Got it.”

“By the way, what’s Lia going to do for transportation? Will we be shuttling her around?”

“Not a clue, honey. I figure Cosmil has something up his sleeve.”

“So long as it’s not my SSR.”

Saber disconnected on a chuckle.

I snapped my cell closed, set it on the table, and sighed. I would have loved to take a nap, but once I’m up, I’m up for eighteen hours. Okay, with occasional exceptions. Most of those involving Saber. Maybe this would be one of those good lovin’ nights when he’d leave me boneless
and
sleepy.

Meantime, might as well be productive. I left the amulet on the table, grabbed my luggage, and unloaded the dirty clothes right into the washer. With the machine filling, I headed to the bedroom with the near-empty suitcase but stopped short in the doorway.

Snowball, her back arched, her tail fluffed to three times its normal volume, stood statue still at the closed closet doors. She didn’t so much as flick an ear at my entrance. What the heck?

Then I heard an echo of Pandora’s warning.
She will sense the unseen and alert you to presences.

Oh, damn.

A thump drew my attention back to Snowball, who emitted a low, unholy growl. She swiped one paw then the other at the bottom of the door.

In a horror movie, the idiot heroine would march to the door and ease it open. This was no movie, and I was sure no heroine. But Snowball had cornered something, and I needed to know what. Pronto.

I opened my senses. Stared at the white wood door. Imagined it slowly, ever so slowly, becoming opaque glass. It did, and a shadow appeared.

Snowball went bonkers, launching herself at the shadow. Hissing and spitting and yowling as if she were in a cat fight to the death.

I blocked the noise and opened more. I visualized the opaque glass growing window clear. Willed the shadow to be identifiable.

I knew it wouldn’t be Starrack or the Void. I also knew that was no living being behind the door. It felt too old. Too dead. Too fragile and frightened.

Of a kitten.

The vision sharpened with an audible snap, and I gasped to see a tiny woman wearing an eighteenth-century court dress. The tiny human woman who had been King Normand’s mistreated mistress and main meal deal—and my personal maid. The tiny woman who had helped bind me in that cursed coffin and hours later had been slaughtered by the townspeople.

She’d been the closest thing I’d had to a friend in King Normand’s court.

“Isabella?” I said on a wave of relief.

She gave me a hesitant nod.

“What are you doing here?”

She pointed at the still-crazed Snowball.

“You’re frightened of the cat?” Well, of course she was. Isabella had jumped at her own shadow in the old days, and not without reason.

“I’ll take care of her. Snow,” I crooned, crossing to the kitten. “It’s okay. Calm down now. This is a friend.”

Snowball flicked an ear at my approach but stayed hunched by the door. When I spoke singsong assurances to her, gently petted her, she only growled louder. I glanced at Isabella. Was Snowball telling me the ghost was an enemy in a friend’s guise? My psychic senses said no. So maybe the cat just didn’t like spirits in her territory. Whatever her issue, mine was to talk to Isabella.

I scooped Snow up, only to have her squirm and dig her hind claws into my ribs. Before she could scratch her way up my chest or twist out of my grasp, I shut her in the bathroom.

When I turned back, I half expected Isabella to be out of the closet. She wasn’t, and the door still looked like glass. Did I need to let her out?

Not without a further question.

“Isabella, are you alone?”

Her brown eyes narrowed as she seemed to look past the door and into the distant yard. “I am alone for now.”