Four Dukes and a Devil (11 page)

B
lake’s first thought on waking up and seeing duct tape around his hands instead of fresh blood was,
Thank God
. A year ago, the same sight would have shocked and terrified him. Now it was a better start than most days.

Then it occurred to him to wonder where he was. Or who the blond woman watching him with an unreadable expression was.

Blake glanced around, noting with relief that the room was empty of blood or bodies. It was also empty of windows, and it was shaking with a powerful vibration.

Was he still in the District? How long had the most recent episode lasted?

“You need to get away from me,” were Blake’s first words. He eyed his bound hands and feet.
He
would feel threatened as soon as this registered. Blake tensed, expecting that buzzing in his head to start up, but so far, there was silence.
Still time for the woman to get away.

“Why did you try to jump in front of the train?” she asked.

Blake closed his eyes. That’s right, the last thing he remembered was the train.

“Did you stop me?” he asked incredulously. “Damn it,
why
?”

She raised a brow. “You could say thank you.”

Blake wanted to slap her. So close to being free, and she ruined it. “You don’t know what you’ve done, but you’ll be making a bigger mistake if you don’t leave right now.”

She gave a pointed look at his wrists and ankles. “You think you can hurt me?”

The memory of being shoved in a police car, handcuffed, flashed through Blake’s mind. He’d been fighting the encroaching noise in his head and hoping desperately that the cuffs and the reinforced backseat would hold.

The next memory followed without pity. The crashed police car, kicked-in barrier between the front and backseats, and the mangled remains of the two officers.

“I’ll kill you.” Blake’s voice was hoarse with self-loathing. “Leave now, before it’s too late!”

“You can’t kill me,” she said, a sort of detached amusement in her tone. “I’m already dead.”

As Blake watched, her eyes changed. They became impossibly green and began to glow, bright as traffic lights. Her smile widened to show more of her teeth, where her front two incisors extended down to form sharp, pointed tips.

Blake found himself smiling. A vampire had kidnapped him.
Today might be a good day after all.

Elise watched the man’s reaction with interest as she revealed her inhuman nature. Surprisingly, he didn’t look afraid. In fact, the strangest expression of relief crossed his face.

He tilted his head back. “All right, then. Kill me.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You think I’m going to bite you? Not with how you smell.”

He made an impatient noise. “So plug your nose while you drink my blood. But hurry. I don’t know how long it’ll be before
he
takes me.”

Elise considered him. She’d met suicidal people before but none who gave off the kind of vibes this man did. Considering what she’d seen after she grabbed him back from the oncoming train, Elise had a good idea about what was driving him to kill himself. She’d never personally come across someone in his condition before, but in her long life, she knew people who had.

“You’re possessed, aren’t you?”

Elise asked it matter-of-factly. His eyes widened as if he’d been struck.

“Yes,” he whispered. A spasm crossed his face, too raw to be labeled pain. “For about six months now.”

He didn’t look to be the type to play with a Ouija board. Maybe he was one of those foolish humans who trifled with spirits, seeking to tap into the dark power of the other side. “How did it happen?”

“A car accident.” Her brows went up, but he just sighed. “I was driving home from work when this woman jumped in front of my car. I called 911, tried to help her, but she died in my arms. Witnesses cleared me of being at fault, and I thought it was just a terrible accident. About three weeks later, the blackouts started. I’d hear this buzzing in my head, then wake up in places I didn’t remember going to, with no idea what I’d done. I thought I was crazy. Then—”

He stopped and swallowed hard, looking like he was about to throw up.

“The demon started taunting me. Leaving notes in handwriting I didn’t recognize, making videos of me doing things I couldn’t even imagine, let alone remember…I can’t live like this,” he summarized, voice hardening. “That demon’s made me a murderer, a fucking monster! I tried seeing a priest, getting an exorcism—nothing’s worked. It won’t even let me kill myself. If you understand what’s wrong with me, kill me now. You’ll save lives if you do, believe me.”

Blue eyes stared intently at Elise from under black, scraggly hair. It was hard to tell what he really looked like under the dirt and grime that said he’d been living on the streets for a while. He looked to be in his midthirties, but what might have been an athletic, attractive physique was now hunched with guilt, fear, and despair.

Killing him would be an act of mercy,
Elise reflected.
It wouldn’t be hard to do.
Humans were so fragile; one flick of her wrist would snap his neck before he’d even realized she moved. After all, she’d killed before, and for less noble reasons than this.

She’d almost decided to do it when Mencheres’s face flashed in her mind. Was she becoming one of those vampires who forgot what it was like to be human? How precious those years were
because
they were so short?

“What’s your name?” she asked, rising.

The hope on his face as she approached was heart-wrenching. “Blake Turner. Will you…will you leave my body where it can be found? I still have family who might want to know what happened to me…”

“Blake Turner,” Elise said slowly. “I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to help you.”

B
lake looked around the tunnel. “I’m not sure about this.”

“I need help to figure out whether you’re salvageable or not,” was Elise’s curt response, as they continued down the passageway. “Keeping you cooped up in my house isn’t a workable solution.”

“Can’t you just call someone?” Blake asked, thinking
house
was a generous word to describe the place where she lived.
Oversized coffin
would be more appropriate, since it was tiny, underground, pitch-black aside from some sparse lighting, and lacked any kitchen, toilet, shower, or other amenities.

Still, it was a perfect place to keep Blake locked up and away from people, which was why leaving it didn’t appeal to him. Who knew he’d be unable to convince a
vampire
to kill him? So much for the bloodthirstiness of their legend. Blake also couldn’t understand why the demon hadn’t taken over yet. Every other time Blake attempted to kill himself, the demon showed up and stopped him. Could it sense that the vampire wouldn’t kill him? Was that why the demon was biding its time?

Or was it waiting for a better opportunity to appear? Like now, as they were heading toward the metro station and all the innocent people inside.

“This isn’t safe,” Blake repeated for the dozenth time.

She kept walking, her grip on his hand like a cool vise. “My sire will know what to do. I’ll use the pay phone at the station to call him. It’s safer if you come with me than to hope you’ll still be at my house when I get back.”

“He’s strong when he takes over,” Blake said, almost spitting the words out. He hated what he’d been turned into—a host for the worst kind of evil. If death was the only way to stop the demon, Blake would gladly die. His life had been ruined beyond repair anyway.

Just seven months ago, he’d been a successful stockbroker. He’d had a beautiful house, great friends, and was even on good terms with his ex-wife. Now he’d lost everything, was wanted for multiple murders, and the only way for him to stop the demon was to kill himself. It was a far, far cry from the days where his biggest concern had been the fluctuating market on Wall Street.

“I’m stronger,” Elise said.

Blake looked her over with doubt. Elise was about five-four, and if she topped a hundred pounds, it wasn’t by much. Furthermore, she had an ethereal quality to her small-boned frame that hinted at fragility. Combined with her beautiful, pale face, Elise reminded Blake of one of those antique dolls his ex-wife used to collect. Elise was the type of woman men tripped over themselves to protect, not the type who could outwrestle a demon. Fangs could only reach so far, after all.

“You said you’ve never encountered a demon before. How do you know you’re stronger?”

Elise shot him a sideways glance. “You talk so much,” she muttered. “It’s tiring. Can you stop for a while?”

Blake bit back an amazed snort.
This
was the woman who was supposed to stop the demon when it showed up? Some one who couldn’t even carry on a brief conversation without getting tired?

“I think we should go back,” Blake said, as they rounded a corner and the metro station came into view. “This isn’t—”

A roar of buzzing filled his mind all at once. Blake had only a second to clutch his head at the pain when his vision went white. He didn’t even get a chance to warn Elise before the demon took him.

Elise was startled when Blake grabbed his head as if his brains had just exploded. His one hand was still in her grip; but just as she smelled the sulfur, he yanked it away. And then ran like a proverbial bat out of hell.

She cursed herself as she chased him. With the demon controlling him, Blake was
quick,
streaking up the tunnel and into the station in barely the amount of time it took to blink.

But Elise had superhuman abilities as well, so she stayed close behind him. The demon burst through the station, knocking over anyone in its way. At 5:00
A.M.,
there weren’t many commuters, but enough to make exposing her real nature a risk. Elise kept her eyes and fangs under control, knowing her speed was bad enough, but at least that wouldn’t announce “vampire!” to the general public. She plowed through the people just as roughly as the demon had, not letting it gain any ground.
Keep running,
she thought coolly.
Once we’re free of all these humans, I can quit playing nice.

The demon broke out of the metro station and darted onto the sidewalk, pumping Blake’s legs like pistons. Elise kept it just ahead of her, letting it think she wasn’t fast enough to over take it, until they reached a less-monitored part of the neighborhood. Then she sprang forward with all of her undead speed, tackling the demon from behind and bashing its head into the street.

Blake’s body went limp, the sweet smell of fresh blood replacing the previous stench of sulfur. Elise flipped Blake around, giving his injury a quick evaluation.
No skull fracture. The surface wound on his forehead can be healed—and his nose was broken before, anyway.

She opened one of Blake’s eyes. No more swirling red. His skin lost that waxy-ashen look as well, and he didn’t smell like anything except blood and unwashed human. The demon was gone. For the moment.

Elise let her fangs out just enough to drag her thumb across one, welling up blood. Then Elise smeared her blood over the three-inch split in Blake’s skin, watching with satisfaction as the wound slowly closed like a magic zipper had formed in his flesh.

It wouldn’t do to feed Blake any of her blood. That would heal him more thoroughly, like getting rid of the concussion he no doubt had, but it would also make him stronger. The demon inside Blake was already pushing his body to limits no human should be able to sustain. Elise wasn’t about to add to that.

But now, what to do with Blake? She couldn’t just sling him over her shoulder and walk to the nearest pay phone; that would attract too much attention. Nor was she about to leave him there and risk the demon’s coming back while she was gone. If only it was a little later in the morning, then she could grab the first person walking by with a cell phone and hypnotize them into compliance while she called Mencheres.

Creaking drew Elise’s attention to the end of the street. A homeless woman slowly pushed a shopping cart overflowing with various items along the sidewalk. Elise smiled, then picked Blake up and tucked him under her arm like a football.

“Good morning,” she called out. “How much do you want for that shopping cart?”

B
lake awoke to a horrible smell. With that stink and everything being dark, for a moment, he thought he was in a garbage dump.

Then he heard her voice. “Quit squirming, people will notice.”

It took a second for him to recognize who spoke. It was the vampire, Elise. Blake blinked, his vision clearing enough to realize it was dark because something was over his face. Something that reeked of body odor and things he didn’t even want to name. Add that to a headache worse than he’d ever experienced, and Blake thought he might throw up.

But he was still with Elise, even after the demon had taken control of him.

“Did anyone get killed? Hurt?” Blake asked, dread spreading through him.

“No. Now quit talking.”

At those words, Blake didn’t care about her brusqueness, his cramped position with his knees mashed to his chest, the stink, or the throbbing in his head. The demon had taken control of him—but the vampire had kept it from harming anyone. For the first time in months, Blake felt a stirring of hope.

Whatever he was stuffed into vibrated. From the feel of it, Elise was pushing him along an uneven surface. It was hot, too, and with the reeking dark material covering him, hard to breathe.

Blake pulled the rancid material off him and looked around. They were in a cemetery, of all things, and from the looks of it, Elise had stuffed him into a shopping cart.

“A shopping cart?” Blake said. “Whose stuff is piled on top of me?”

“It belonged to a homeless woman, but don’t worry, I paid for everything,” Elise said, shrugging. “It was a good way to transport you without drawing notice.”

“Why didn’t you just…commandeer a car or something?” Blake asked, getting out of the cart. His bones creaked once he was freed from that cramped position.

Another shrug. “I don’t know how to drive.”

Blake looked at her with more shock than he’d shown when he found out she was a vampire. “You don’t know how to drive?” he repeated.

Elise seemed amused at his disbelief. “I never got around to learning.”

Waking up in a homeless person’s shopping cart was still better than waking up to the sight of dead bodies. No matter his current circumstances, Blake was grateful for that. He still didn’t know how Elise thought she could help him, but she could apparently keep him from killing when the demon possessed him. And since she was taking Blake to meet her sire, maybe
that
vampire would put him out of his misery even if Elise refused to. It was something to hope for.

It was ironic, Blake reflected. Before becoming possessed, he’d never thought much about death beyond having a life insurance policy and exercising to stay healthy. Now, Blake lusted after death as though it were a beautiful woman. Death meant he’d never hurt anyone again. Death meant his family would be safe. Death meant his remaining friends never had to open their doors and see a demon standing on the other side of it, concealed in Blake’s skin. Death was Blake’s only way of beating the thing inside him, and Blake wanted to beat it more than he wanted anything else.

Elise’s whistling shook Blake from his dark ponderings. She was whistling “Beautiful Dreamer” in a soft, melancholy way, the notes as perfect as if they were coming from a flute. Blake wondered how a vampire, who supposedly didn’t breathe, could whistle. He wondered how Elise was out in the daylight without spontaneously combusting, or how it was that vampires even existed at all. So many things he hadn’t thought were possible turned out to be true. Vampires? They existed. Demons? Real, too. If aliens landed at the Capitol tomorrow, he’d only be mildly intrigued.

“If sunlight doesn’t hurt you, why do you live underground in a tunnel?”

Elise kept whistling. Blake thought she’d decided to ignore him, but when the last strains of the song ended, she replied.

“I don’t do so well around people.”

Her voice was soft, too. Filled with a sort of disconnected regret, as though her lack of social skills made her sorry, but she didn’t understand why. She started to whistle that same song again. Blake sat down, leaning back against a tree, and closed his eyes. He could almost imagine he was somewhere else, listening to the sweet and haunting tune.

“You won’t let me hurt anyone, will you?”

Elise paused. “No.” She continued whistling, the sound and her answer lulling him, making him feel almost…safe.

Blake did something he hadn’t done willingly for weeks. He let himself fall asleep.

Elise listened as Blake’s heartbeat and breathing became more relaxed with slumber. She kept whistling, even though she wasn’t used to breathing this much. Still, the song seemed to soothe him, though why that mattered to her was a mystery.
His being quiet will draw less attention,
she told herself, knowing that was a lie. They were in Arlington National Cemetery. There weren’t many people around to notice if Blake caused a stir, except perhaps the ghosts.

It was so odd, this protective feeling. Once she’d made up her mind to help Blake, her long-dormant emotions awoke. Elise couldn’t help but admire Blake’s concern for other people, even over his own life.
You won’t let me hurt anyone, will you?
It had been a long time since Elise had cared that much about other people, especially strangers.

When DC’s homeless or criminal element attacked her—which happened every few months—she killed them. It didn’t occur to her
not
to since she reasoned that by doing so, she was saving someone else from that person’s future attack. Blake wasn’t responsible for what the demon inside him did, but he was willing to die in order to prevent other people from getting harmed. His strength of character under these extreme circumstances held up a mirror to hers, and Elise didn’t like what she saw reflected there.
Mencheres is right,
she realized.
I’ve let myself slip away. How much of the person I was is still left? Can I salvage the remains before apathy eats away at the rest of me?

She’d start with Blake. Maybe by helping to save his soul, she’d earn a reprieve for her own.