Deadly Sin (Cassandra Farbanks) (10 page)

I felt the atmosphere in the apartment jangle as it did when it was anchored by my amulet. It was full dark. I thought of Aram. True to his word, he had stayed away. Even his brother had kept his distance. It was Monday night and Dante’s would be closed so that Jareth (as the leader) could see to the kiss’s affairs. He always took to the floor for the first part of the night, so I would be pretty safe to call his direct line and not have to talk to him. I did, however, feel an overpowering desire to talk to Aram, just about my day, my worries, nothing too deep and meaningful. They always say that worries shared are worries halved. I picked up the phone and dialed Dante’s before my rational mind could talk me out of it. It was answered on the second ring.

“Dante’s Inferno, this is Lance. How may I help you this evening?” I smiled to myself at his very practiced telephone manner. Lance was the daytime guy for both of the brothers. Despite the fact that the vampire rights bill went through with fantastic effect, and a steady stream of all night businesses catering to them emerged, there were still offices only open during the day, like government buildings and banks. I had doubted whether or not, despite all sovereign clans smoothing the way, it would pass. Although they won the right to be acknowledged as living beings a long time before, the vampires wanted certain rights. They wanted the right to marry and direct ownership of certain businesses that had bared them. They wanted the ability to vote, indiscriminate employment, and benefit entitlement if unable to find means of employment. They also wanted the ability to drive. The DVLA–Driving and Vehicle Licensing Authority–was only open during the day, but one could now book a special appointment to take the test after dark. In exchange, they offered a lump sum in back taxes from each Kiss in the country. They would register their members, both old and new, on a national database to make sure the vampire population was closely monitored, and would police themselves. There were many rules the vampires followed pertaining to their feeding habits. One rule concerned only willing of age donors, but now they could also purchase donated, human blood. Imagine, blood banks allowing withdrawals. I was sure there were other perks because the Sovereigns were very pleased with their lot right now.

“Hi Lance, it’s Cassandra.”

“Hello Cassandra. How are you doing?”

“Fine thanks. I was wondering if you could give a message to Aram for me.”

“I can, but he should have awoken for the night. I can always just put you through.”

“No Lance,” I said quickly, trying to avoid a lengthy conversation with Aram that would tax my phone bill. “Can you just take him a message?”

“Okay.” I could hear the shuffling sound of papers. “I have paper to write on, continue.”

“Please tell him that I’d like to talk to him. I’m going to take a nap. He should know how to reach me.”

“I’m sure he will. Anything else?”

“Nope that’s it. Thanks Lance. Have a good evening.”

I hung up the phone, wriggled out of my jeans and snuggled under my blankets, letting my eyes flutter shut. When I opened them, I was dreaming. I was still in my bed, but it floated in a tide of sunset colored shimmering and I knew I was not alone. I rolled over to face Aram, his hair sexily sleep tousled and pale chest bare. His eyes, a clear, compelling hazel, watched me with admiration.

I peeked under the covers to check I was still dressed. I was, but in silky, lacy lingerie. It was pale lavender and very nice on, but made me sigh with exasperation.

“Aram? Really? Couldn’t you have just sat us on a park bench or something?” He smiled a very winsome, worldly smile.

“You’d look very out of place on a bench in that pet. I thought perhaps a little pillow talk would be more to your tastes.”

“I didn’t dress me. I don’t own anything remotely like this, so I have no frame of reference.”

“More’s the pity. I can see that you truly did just want to talk. What do you wish to discuss pet?” He pulled up the covers to admire the sateen creation before I whacked them back down. He sighed. “It is the briefest glimpse of heaven, only to be denied.”

“Can we please put your libido on a back burner? I’ve been having a really bad day.” Aram’s handsome face softened into understanding. He wrapped his arms gently around me and held me against his chest.

“Tell me what is wrong my darling, I shall listen.”

“Well I’ve gotten some gifts.”

“They are not from me. I have been doing as you asked.” I looked up at his face. It was a mix of defense because he thought I was going to accuse him, and anger because someone else was sending me gifts.

“I knew they weren’t from you, one, because they weren’t signed and two, because the notes were vaguely threatening.” Aram looked a little puzzled. “I’m being stalked.” His brow got even more troubled.

“I do not believe I understand the modern usage. You are not a deer. You are not being hunted.”

“A stalker is a person who harasses someone else, as an ex or a famous person, and so on. They’re usually aggressive, threatening and go about things in an illegal manner.” Aram thought about that as he stroked my hair.

“Some man, which you do not know, is obsessed by you and sends you gifts with threatening messages.”

“And he’s been watching me!”

“Why did you no tell me about this sooner?”

He cupped my chin with his fingers and lifted it up so I looked into his eyes. His eyes became a forest, and in them I could see myself as a deer, running desperately for safety.

“What could you have done? I don’t know who he is, and considering I’d just put our relationship on a time out, you’d have been the most likely suspect. I filed a police report, but without knowing who it was they couldn’t help much either.” I pressed my face into the groove between his neck and shoulder. That spot that I thought made just for me, and inhaled. Aram always smelled of cloves and something apple, warm, wonderful to me.

“What occurred today?” he asked, moving the conversation forward and quite aware that I was sniffing him.

“He sent me a key. It unlocked a door behind which he’d left a dead person.” I didn’t like how my voice shook towards the end of my sentence.

“You are scared,” he said, stroking cool fingers up and down my back, “not just that this man is out to get you, but that now he may be killing to gain your attention.” I nodded mutely against his skin. “You feel responsible for his actions.” I nodded again. Aram was very perceptive tonight and I was glad, it made telling him all this just that little bit easier. He pulled my hands up to his face and kissed the palms.

“Your hands are as clean as an angel’s, pet. What this man does is none of your doing, and I know that if you knew his identity he would be stopped by now.” He pulled my hands so that my arms looped around his neck. He stroked his fingers in electric lines down to my shoulders and pulled me into a closer embrace. He stroked my hair over and over again, partly I think, to sooth his own worry.

“I am so very glad you called for me. That it was my comfort you desired.” I squirmed against him. Even in a dream, his body showed how happy he was about that. I felt my cheeks flush.

“I’ve been keeping my promise,” I said very quietly, knowing he could hear me, but it was my own sensibilities I was saving. “I never thought to ask you for the same.” He smiled at me and I had to tip my head back to look into his face, into his eyes which held tender emotion. He bent his mouth to mine and started kissing me. My body naturally, instinctively curved against him. He held and kissed me. Before I realized it, his hand had found its way to second base. I gasped and pushed against his chest.

“Aram!”

“It’s just a dream, pet, a little fantasy to tide us both over.”

“Dream or not, I am not having sex with you.” He stroked his fingers over the exposed flesh at the small of my back and nibbled my ear.
“Not even just a little bit.”

“No!” His fingers traced smooth circles on my hip and I felt something low contract. My body was ready to betray me at the first sign of weakness, so I was very lucky when the sound of the front door opening and closing woke me up to reality.

I got out of bed; but instead of calling out, I crept to the door and peeked around it. Trinket had returned from grocery shopping. She picked up my boots from where I’d kicked them off and placed them neatly by the door next to her own shoes. I was smiling at her need for order when Trinket looked up at me.

“You’re awake? Good. You can help put stuff away.”

“Okay, one second.” I walked back into my room to wriggle into my jeans again before padding out barefoot to join her. Between the two of us, we got the few staples of my diet put away in the cupboards before Trinket got on with cooking supper. I didn’t make her cook for me, but neither could I stop her. She pulled on her little pinafore before selecting bits and pieces she would need. I passed her the two quart casserole dish from where it’s kept on a high shelf, but that was the extent to which I was allowed to help. She gave me the look that said I wasn’t allowed to hover either, so I scurried to the couch and picked up my copy of the
bone collector
.

After seeing the movie on Channel Five for the fifth time last month, I decided to read the book that spawned the Denzel Washington, Angelina Jolie collaboration. I was surprised, as I usually am, at how different and much better it was. Because as any reader will tell you, nine times out of ten, the books are always better than the adaptations they spawn. When something states it’s loosely based, it can mean really, really loosely. Also, reading crime novels keeps me away from the romances, an all-round good idea. I was enjoying a particular well, thought out scene that hadn’t made it into the movie, when a plate was put down on the coffee table in front of me. I looked up and smiled.

“That was fast. Thanks.”

“Not really, you’ve been reading for over an hour. Put a book in front of you and you’re guaranteed to stay out from under my feet. Eat up before it gets cold.”

I watched as the steam rose off chicken casserole and brown rice. I marked my page with a scrap of paper before slipping onto the floor crossed legged to eat. I was ravenous. It wasn’t hard to see why, looking back at what I’d eaten that day – some old pizza and two cups of coffee. I watched Trinket move about the kitchen cleaning up pots and wiping down the counters and the cooker. I was still absolutely captivated by how she moved. I wondered what would happen if even one minute cog slipped out of place inside her. Would there be anyone alive who could fix her? It was part of the reason I worried about her going off on her own. Having scrubbed everything thoroughly, she unknotted the apron’s white sash.

I loved some of her outfits. They were very girly, some all frills and eyelet lace. Today’s was a much simpler outfit, a black shirt with red tartan tie and cuffs, pleated red tartan skirt over black stockings, and her red Mary Jane’s that sat by the door. She looked very secretarial until you got to the wild, curly blond ringlets that swarmed either side of her face. The hairstyle was very china doll like and her favorite out of the wigs she’d been able to salvage from the remains of the Cirque de Poupee.

“I gave your message to Miss Mallory,” she said, folding her apron and putting it on the side. “She said to tell you to come by in the morning.” I would have responded, but she hated me to speak with my mouthful, so I just nodded.

“I’m going downstairs to file your notes from the case of the disappearing Doberman from last week and start a new tally for how many hours you spent helping the police this time, so you can invoice them properly. How many so far?” I held up splayed fingers indicating five. She nodded before effortlessly slipping her high-heeled shoes on and clattering out the door.

I finished my dinner and the chapter of my book before changing into something more comfortable and climbing back into bed. I wasn’t going to let thoughts of stalkers or murderers bother me anymore tonight. Truth would see me in the morning and hopefully provide much of the information I needed. I’d come to rely on her and she hadn’t let me down. I went to bed a lot earlier these days, as no one seemed to get murdered at a reasonable hour of the night. I snuggled down under the covers, closed my eyes and dreamed for the second time.

In this dream, the same one I had a few night before, I was flying. I just took off from my balcony and glided gracefully over the city. I was always looking down at it, always admiring the things below me or at the dark twinkle of the stars before me. I’d stop from time to time, on a ledge, a statue or a streetlight, amazed how easily it took my weight. It was such a beautiful dream. Imagine my surprise when I woke lying naked on my bedroom floor.

The wood was cool against my belly, while the sunlight streaming through the open balcony door warmed my bare buttocks. Groaning, I pulled up to my knees and stared at my hands as if they held the answers. Something silver jingled around my neck as I worked at a kink I felt in it after sleeping on the cold hard floor. I picked up the chain to see that it was my locket. At least I knew what side of reality I should be on.

“What happened to my clothes?” I asked as if expecting someone to answer me. I turned and raised my hand to block out the daylight. What time was it? The sun was already so high in the sky. There was a rag or something lying between the open balcony doors, on the sill that led outside. It flapped gently in a light breeze. I snatched it and turned back to the light once my eyes readjusted I could see what I held in my hands. It was the night shirt I’d gone to bed in. The sleeves were ripped along the shoulder seems and down the sides like something had burst through the material. The hem was in ribbons of fabric that could have been made by claws or talons. I shuddered, turned again to the light, and shut it out completely by closing the doors and pulling the curtains. What the hell had happened?