Dark Series, The Color of Seven and The Color of Dusk (Books We Love Special Edition) (55 page)

“I couldn’t do that, I told you—”

“They’d have massacred everybody there. And as Sadie so accurately pointed out, neither one of
her
boys woulda been there. And then there’s my grandmother. Serena. You wanted to kill her the night her husband blew Joshua’s face off so what did you do? You wrote her a check for damn near the whole Devlin bank account. You didn’t know she wouldn’t cash it, and what the hell would you have done over the years if she had?”

“Joshua would have wanted her taken care of.”

“Oh, fuck what Joshua would have wanted. Just one time, what does Paul want? Which brings us to my daughter.”

“I don’t intend for Ria to ever suffer because she met me.”

“Un-huh. Thought so. So I ask you again, son, what self-imposed time frame did you give yourself to actually enjoy livin’ and lovin’ before you just pick up and boogey on out of her life?”

“How did you—”

“
Shit!
Anybody knows anything about you could figure that out. You just couldn’t resist, but since you don’t think you offer much in the way of normal lifestyle, there’s no way you’re going to make this a long-term thing. And what do you think that’ll do to her? When you don’t come back?”

“She won’t remember me. Neither will you. Nobody will.”

Dr. Knight sat thoughtfully under the parking lights.

“Yeah, I kind of thought there might be some mental domination thing. Goes along with the teleportation and all that.”

“Alright, it’s dishonest and it’s selfish. But I thought maybe, just this once, just for a little while—”

“Shit, son. It sucks. I mean, it really sucks. You know?”

“And you’d like for me to just go ahead and disappear now? Is that it?”

“What I’d have
liked
, son, is for you and your Chloe to have lived out a long, happy life together with lots of kids and be side by side in Rose Arbor now. But since that just ain’t the way it happened, let me tell you a few things about my daughter. First off, you might make her forget. Make all of us forget. Well, you say you can, so I’m sure you can. But we’re talkin’ about Ria here. Last living link to the Voodoo Queen of
Stone
Creek
Swamp
, remember? And she’ll
never
forget what she feels. And way down deep, she’ll always sense—she’ll always
know
--that there’s something else, somebody else—somewhere. She won’t know what and she won’t know why but she’ll measure every man she meets for the rest of her life by a man she doesn’t even remember. And that I don’t like. Not worth a damn.”

“And your point is?”

“She’s right. This was meant, Paul. She was
meant
to find you. Even Tamara said so, one of the last things she ever told you, over a hundred years ago. In other words, son, you’re in for the long haul whether you like it or not and you better know it. Because no matter how bad you think you’re fuckin’ her life up by being in it, you’ll
destroy
her if you leave. And that will
really, really
piss me off.”

Paul laughed. He couldn’t help it. He felt curiously lighter somehow, absolved of at least a little bit of blame for being irresponsible enough to start an actual human relationship.

“And if you’re that pissed, then I better
hope
you don’t remember where to find me, huh?”

“Damn straight. So what do you say, son? We have no idea what this thing is, but we won’t ever know if I don’t start tryin’ to check it out. I’m not a research specialist but I have friends I trust who are. And if it can’t be reversed—and we both know reversing something like this ranks somewhere between impossible and needs a miracle, maybe we can mitigate it a little bit so you’re at least a little more normal. We won’t know how much more normal ‘til we start lookin’. Can you trust me and the people I trust enough to try?”

Paul thought of the sun catching the reddish highlights of Ria’s hair.

“You know how long it’s been since I’ve seen sunrise, Charlie?”

“Right around a century and a quarter,” Dr. Knight responded with barely a pause. “I was always good at quick figures. So can you try, you think?”

“Yes. I can try.”

“But no matter what happens, you do understand what I’m telling you about Ria? Long haul. You got that?”

“You really believe that, don’t you?”

“Son, I
know
that.”

“All right. Long haul. Got it.”

“Then let’s get to it,” Dr. Knight said. He threw open his car door. “And when I get through with you, you’ll think I’m the vampire.”

* * *

Paul materialized in Ria’s bedroom. He had maybe an hour until dawn. As though she felt him even in her sleep, she stretched and turned. She smiled as her eyes opened and she held out her arms. He wiped all thoughts of the future from his mind and gathered her close. The house sighed in contentment, always happy to know its master was home.

Later, in the last minutes of darkness left, Ria purred contentedly into his shoulder.

“Well, you survived Daddy very nicely.”

“Barely. He’s the vampire,” Paul said, flexing his right arm as it lay under her hair.

Ria turned her head, pulling his arm over her face and running her lips lightly along the sensitive skin of his inner forearm.

“Don’t start something I don’t have time to finish,” Paul warned. “It’s almost dawn.”

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful? If you could watch the dawn?”

“Ria, don’t hope too much, darlin’.’”

“I know. But when did Daddy say he’d know anything?”

“Several days at least. Go back to sleep,” he said, and grabbed one last kiss before the first rays broke over the horizon. He left.

* * *

Three nights later, Dr. Knight’s voice sounded over the buzzer’s intercom. Ria raced downstairs and hauled him up the steps.

“C’mon, Daddy! Lord, turtles move faster!”

“Jesus, baby! Give the old man a chance to catch his breath!” He pretended to stagger over the couch and fell heavily on the cushions.

“Knock it off! You run five miles a day!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Children, children!” Paul called for order. “Ria, give your father a chance. And Charlie, just quit it! Nobody believes the old man act, all right?”

“C’mon, Daddy! What’ve you got?”

“Well, I can’t tell you a lot, but I can tell you two things.”

“Well,
what
?”

“Good news first?”

“Daddy!”

“Okay, okay! Well, the good news is I think I’ve discovered the cure for cancer.”

“And the bad news?” asked Paul, with lifted eyebrow.

“Cure’ll kill you.”

Ria groaned and Paul laughed. Something in Charlie’s face hinted at possibilities.

“Okay, seriously. Stu Harmon’s ‘bout to go crazy. That’s my—”

“We know, we know. Big chief at the
Atlanta
Center
for Disease Control.” Ria knew her father had driven directly to Dr. Harmon’s home Sunday afternoon with the samples. “So
give
!”

“Well, we’re not sure about the DNA changes, too soon. But we think the big thing’s the blood. Or whatever it is, ‘cause it sure as hell ain’t blood. It’s a sterilizing agent. Sterilizes everything.”

“Sterilizes?”

“It eats any foreign body that invades it. That’s why there’s no waste product to throw off. I gotta say, Paul’d be my first choice for a traveling companion on a car trip. Wouldn’t have to make any pit stops at all on his account.”

Paul frowned. “And this means what in terms of doing anything to correct it?”

“Stu’s introduced all sorts of cultures in the samples. So far, the samples have eaten everything. It’s the universal cure for what ails you. Stu hasn’t tried yet but we think it’ll even eat the HIV virus. In fact, it seems to be pretty much the opposite of AIDS. The AIDS virus attacks the immune system and lets anything invade. This thing, Stu calls it the V-Factor, it completely overhauls the immunities and nothing seems to bother it, not even the aging process. ‘Course, the side-effects, they’ll—”

“Kill you,” Paul supplied.

“Well, actually, maybe not. Think about it a minute, Paul. What actually killed you was exsanguination. That’s blood loss to you, Ria. Maybe if you hadn’t been literally drained dry—”

“No, back up. The V-Factor changes the immune system and that’ll kill you anyway. Because then the system doesn’t sustain normal life. It alters it completely. It isn’t life by any of our definitions.”

“But maybe if normal blood is reintroduced, it’ll dilute the V-Factor to the extent that some amount of normal function is possible.”

“But if it eats any foreign substance introduced,” Ria broke in, “normal blood is a foreign substance and it’ll absorb it immediately before any dilution can take place. And what the hell does any of this have to do with the night-time thing? Or the teleportation?”

“Well, shit, baby! It’s been three days. We’re not going to figure everything out in three days, or weeks, or months or years! We’ve got a lot more testing to do. But it’s more than we did know. And we do have an idea.”

“Which is?” Paul asked.

“Transfusions of normal blood.”

“Daddy, you just said—”

“With some of the anti-rejection drugs developed for transplants. We got to start somewhere. What do you think, Paul?”

Paul looked at Ria.

“I think it won’t hurt to try.”

Chapter Eighteen

A week after her father’s visit, Ria walked out to her car. Friday afternoon and she had three new appointed criminal cases, all three clients currently enjoying the hospitality of the local Law Enforcement Center, more commonly known as the jail. Ordinarily, she detested walking down its halls. Today, though, her spirits were high and not even the impending and annoying wolf-whistles and cat calls she knew she’d hear could dent her mood.

It was the first week of December. Christmas was coming, and after the holidays, they’d try the first of the transfusions. Of course, Paul and her father warned her every other breath not to expect much of anything this early in the research project. She still walked through the days in euphoric anticipation, though. It was a start. It was
something
.

A glazed ham baked slowly in her oven upstairs. Tonight was an early holiday dinner party. Sort of. Dennis Billings and his girlfriend were coming over. She liked keeping an eye on Dennis, that boy’d come around just fine. She was proud of him. And her law partner Johnny was footloose and fancy-free that evening, too, so he’d be there. Ria didn’t enjoy cooking much but the holidays were something else altogether. Especially this year. Good friends, good company. And Paul.

Her mind was running over the night’s menu to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything as she walked into the old carriage house, now the garage. She put her hand on the door handle just as the lights exploded behind her eyes. Her ears never registered the solid ‘thump’ of the gun butt as it caught her directly behind the ear. Her hand slid off the handle. She slumped, unconscious, to the concrete floor.

Justin Dinardo bent over. He laughed softly as he plucked the car keys from her hand. He’d driven into
Macon
for the past few afternoons, parking his stolen, ratty car up on
College Street
and walking down to crouch in the corner of the garage. Just in case. But good things came to those who waited. Sooner or later.

He opened the trunk and walked back to Ria. He picked her up and dumped her unceremoniously into the small space. He carelessly bent her arms and legs, folding her into a small enough package so he could close the trunk. He slammed the lid down and frowned. ’65 Mustangs didn’t have a lot of trunk room. He didn’t care if she suffocated but his master wouldn’t be happy if the cunt was dead.

He shrugged. It was a forty-five mile drive. If the air got stale, she’d stay unconscious. He settled behind the wheel and ran his hand over the leather interior. He caressed the gear shift.

Hell of a car. The speedometer was calibrated to 120 mph, just like all the old cars with V-8 engines. Shame to waste a car like this on the Knight bitch. Bet she’d never gotten it past eighty. And he couldn’t either. Not this afternoon. Wouldn’t do to get pulled over. Not at all.

He laughed suddenly and turned the ignition. The motor purred and he shifted into reverse, backed out of the garage, and headed towards the
Gray Highway
.

Paul buzzed the intercom at six o’clock. He’d materialized on
College Street
tonight and walked down, as much for the pleasure of the crisp December air as for appearances sake. Everyone thought he rented one of the
College Street
apartments.