Night's Touch (32 page)

"Come, child," she said, "sit here, beside him."

Now that she'd gotten her way, Cara began to have doubts, but she thrust them aside. All her life, her father had cared for her, loved her, and protected her as best he could. She wasn't going to turn her back on him now, when he needed her.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Brenna asked. "It's going to hurt."

"I'm sure," Cara said, though her voice quivered noticeably.

Brenna looked over at Vince. "I need your help."

"You've got it."

"Stand here and hold Cara's other hand."

Vince did as she asked, effectively blocking Cara's view of what was about to happen. Taking a deep breath, Brenna used her thumbnail to make an incision in Cara's wrist.

Blood flowed in the wake of the cut.

Lifting Cara's arm, Brenna held it to Roshan's lips. "Drink, love," she commanded softly.

A shudder ran through the vampire's body as he grasped his daughter's arm with both hands, his mouth closing over the wound.

Vince understood why Brenna didn't offer her husband her own blood. It was a rare thing for one vampire to drink the blood of another, but in this instance, he heartily wished that Brenna had refused Cara's offer.

The scent of her blood teased his nostrils, tempting him to push Roshan aside and lift her arm to his own lips.

Cara stared into Vince's eyes, unable to believe what was happening, wondering if now she, too, would become a vampire. As repulsive as the idea was, it seemed a small price to pay to save her father's life.

After what seemed like a very long time but was only a few moments, Brenna drew Cara's arm away. She ran her tongue over the wound and it immediately stopped bleeding.

Vince lifted Cara to her feet and put his arms around her. "Are you all right?"

Cara nodded, her gaze on her father. He looked a little better, she thought, not quite so pale.

And then, to her surprise, her mother made a gash in her own wrist and held it to her father's lips. Only for a moment, but the transformation was amazing.

The lines of pain that had been etched deep into his face disappeared as if by magic. The color returned to his cheeks. Even the raw places where the silver had touched his skin didn't look as red and angry as before.

Opening his eyes, Roshan saw Brenna hovering over him. "Cara?"

"She's here," Brenna said, taking his hand in hers.

"Hi, Dad," Cara said, moving closer to the bed. "How do you feel?"

Roshan stared at his daughter, an expression of horror crossing his face. "Why?" He looked at Brenna. "Why did you let her do it?"

"You needed blood," Brenna said, squeezing his hand.

"You should have asked Di Giorgio."

"I wanted to," Brenna said, "but Cara insisted."

Roshan looked at his daughter. He could feel her blood flowing through his veins; he had but to wish it to read her thoughts. "I never wanted you to see, to know…"

"It's all right," Cara said, forcing a smile.

"No." He closed his eyes, as if he could shut it from his mind. "No, it's not."

Still holding Roshan's hand, Brenna looked at her daughter. "What happened back there?"

"Anton's mother used our blood to raise a man from the dead," Cara said. She folded her arms across her chest, as if she had a sudden chill. "Only something went wrong." She shivered, remembering the crazed look in the witch's eyes. "Anton ran out of the lab and the thing went after him." She shivered again. "I thought it was coming after me."

"What of the witch?" Roshan asked.

"Serafina's dead," Brenna said without regret.

"If her incantation didn't raise Anton's father, what did it raise?" Cara asked.

"A zombie, I would imagine," Brenna replied. "If it finds Anton…"

The unfinished sentence hung in the air. There was no telling what would happen to Anton if the creature Serafina had raised found him, Cara thought. The creature hadn't seemed to believe Serafina's claim that Anton was his son, or had that enraged "No!" been a horrified response to finding himself resurrected in such a ghastly form? Did he even know who he was, or was he simply a shell of a man without a mind, without a soul?

Cara couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt. If she had been a virgin, would Anthony Loken have risen whole and healthy from the grave?

"Let's go downstairs," Brenna said. "Roshan needs to rest."

"And I need to take the baby to the police," Cara said, lifting the infant into her arms.

"Speaking of the police," Vince said, "shouldn't we be reporting the fact that Anton kidnapped Cara?"

"No," Roshan said, his voice gruff but firm. "No police."

"Why the hell not?" Vince asked, but even as he spoke the words, he knew the answer. The last thing DeLongpre wanted was a bunch of cops coming around asking questions.

"We'll take care of this ourselves," Roshan said.

"What about the baby?" Cara asked. She stroked the infant's downy cheek with her finger. "Poor little thing. We've got to get him back to his parents as soon as we can."

Roshan was silent a moment, then sighed heavily. "You're right. Go."

"I'll go with her," Vince said.

"Take Frank, too," Brenna said, following the two of them down the stairs.

"Maybe he should stay here, with you," Cara suggested.

Brenna shook her head. "Don't worry about me. I can take care of things here. Frank…"

She frowned. "Where is he?"

"I don't know," Cara said, cuddling the baby. "Maybe he went to his place."

"It's not like him to just take off without telling anyone," Brenna said, frowning.

"We'll go by his house," Cara said. "Be sure to lock the door behind us."

Brenna looked at her daughter and smiled. "Anyone who comes here tonight will get more trouble than he's looking for."

When he reached home, Anton drove into the garage and hit the control to close the garage door. Breathing heavily, he sat there for several minutes, his forehead resting on the steering wheel while he relived the horror of the last half hour. For a moment, he had been certain his mother's incantation had worked. She had actually raised his father's body from the crypt, only the creature that had risen from the coffin wasn't his father at all, but some mindless zombie.

Anton had bolted out of the laboratory with the creature right on his heels. Who'd have thought that something so decayed could move so fast? If his car door had been locked, he would have been a goner. As it was, he had managed to get behind the wheel and lock the door scant moments ahead of the creature. He had started the car and taken off in a cloud of dust and gravel. Just thinking about it was enough to give him the shakes.

He cursed viciously, damning Cara DeLongpre and her whole wretched family. It was all the girl's fault. She was supposed to be a maiden. How could they have made such a mistake? Anton would have bet his last dollar that she had never been with a man, but if that was true, his father would be here now and his mother would still be alive.

Getting out of the car, he went into the house through the door that connected the garage to the kitchen; then, his mind in turmoil, he moved from room to room, making sure that all the doors and windows were closed and locked.

What would he do if DeLongpre went to the police and reported that he had kidnapped Cara? He told himself there was nothing to worry about, that the vampire wouldn't want to get the police involved, but what if he was wrong? Cara had nothing to fear from the police. And what about the baby? They couldn't arrest him for taking the kid, although he thought they might be able to hold him as an accessory. Perhaps he could somehow cast all the blame on his mother… But it wasn't the police or what they could do to him that worried him. It was the vampire, DeLongpre.

Damn! Maybe he should just pack up and leave town tonight! Tempting as the thought was, he knew he couldn't go off and leave his mother's body lying in the basement of the lab like so much refuse, and yet he recoiled from the thought of going back.

Guilt roared through him as he recalled the cowardly way he had bolted out of the building, leaving his mother behind. What if she wasn't dead after all? He salved his conscience by telling himself it was the only option he'd had. After all, what else could he have done? Staying would have been akin to committing suicide. This whole catastrophe was Cara's fault. If she had been pure, the incantation would have worked and his father would be here now. Instead, his mother was dead and there was a zombie running loose in the city.

Going into the kitchen, Anton took a bottle of Irish whiskey from the cupboard and poured himself a stiff drink. Like it or not, he had to go back and get his mother's body. He owed her that much, though he had no idea how he would explain her death.

And what of the creature? What if it killed someone else?

Anton took another drink to fortify his nerves. The easiest thing to do would be to bury her body where it wouldn't be found and then leave town, but he couldn't do that, not until he'd found a way to undo what his mother had done. But first, he had to get his mother's body out of the lab.

He refilled his glass, drained it in a single long swallow, and left the house. Climbing into the car, he locked the door before driving out of the garage, his gaze darting from right to left before he pulled out of the driveway.

He kept one eye on the rearview mirror as he drove toward the lab, ever mindful that the creature was still out there somewhere.

He saw the smoke first, great plumes of dark gray smoke drifting skyward on the rising wind. The wail of a siren screamed in the distance.

Muttering an oath, Anton drove around the corner, then hit the brakes, hard.

His father's laboratory was engulfed in flames.