Tempted in the Night (24 page)

Jess let the information sink in. She would come to the cemetery every night, she vowed, just so she wouldn't miss the event when it started.

Feeling better about her plan, the rest of what John said sank in and she turned to him in surprise. "Diablo?"

He smiled, but looked embarrassed.
"The
chupacabra
that attacked me.
He's the head of the colony."

"You named him
Diablo
?"

"Actually, I named him
Diablo Negro
." He said the name using a campy Mexican accent and then shrugged.

Off to the side, she heard Harris laugh. John scowled at the vampire, one eyebrow raised. "I sure as hell hope
you're
not making fun of
my
naming convention?"

That raised her curiosity. "What did you name your
chupacabra
?"

Before he could answer, they heard a distant cry from above. Looking up, Jess saw something dark flicker across the face of the full moon before disappearing from sight against the night sky. "What was that?" She turned to John, hoping he'd seen it too. Both he and Harris were still watching it, whatever it was.

"He looks hurt," John observed. "You see how erratically he's flying?"

"I can't tell if his wing is injured or if it's something else," Harris said. "Whatever it is, I don't think he's going to make a safe landing."

Jess raised her night-vision goggles and searched the sky.

"We should probably move." John took her arm and pulled her farther off to the side just as a rush of movement came from inside the cemetery.

Four large winged
chupacabras
beat their wings as they ran a few paces and then lifted into the sky. Jess followed their flight as long as she could.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"It's a male
chupacabra
—I don't know if he's dead or unconscious, but he just stopped flying. Those four who just took off caught him
midfall
. They're bringing him down now."

Finally, she spotted the four
chupacabras
, their wings beating in tandem as they carried the fifth between them.

As soon as they landed, the five were immediately surrounded by the other
chupacabras
. Jess looked to John and Harris to see if they were as eager as she to see what was going on.

She was surprised to see that he and Harris seemed locked into some kind of staring contest. Then Harris nodded once and walked off.

"Where's he going?" Jess asked.

"From what we're picking up on the psychic link, it sounds like this
chupacabra
was being held captive by a group of humans—or vampires. That's the part that's a little confusing. Harris thought he recognized one of the
chupacabra's
images of a building. He's going to check it out. Come on," John continued. "I want to take a closer look."

The other
chupacabras
were too concerned about their injured member to pay much attention to the two humans as they moved among them. In fact, Jess was surprised when the creatures actually moved aside to give them a better view. Then seconds later, she wished they hadn't been so accommodating.

The injured
chupacabra
sat on the ground, leaning heavily against a raised tombstone, with his eyes closed and head fallen forward. His breathing was loud and raspy, and while the wing closest to the tombstone was folded against his body, the outer one lay at an awkward angle, as if it were broken. Jess was amazed he'd even been able to fly and wondered if it was possible to set the wing so it could heal properly.

Her attention
traveled
over his body, and she noticed he was covered with a shiny substance that was hard to identify through her goggles. Then she noticed the hundreds of striations across his hide and realized what they were—long strips of torn flesh that could only have been the result of harsh, repeated whippings. She knew, then, that the shiny liquid covering him was blood.

The creature moved slightly and the clanking of chain drew her attention to the metal cuff still attached to his leg. The thick links hanging from the cuff were testament to a desperate struggle for survival and escape. The thought that anyone could treat another creature so cruelly made her mad. Even when she hunted vampires, she strove to make her kills quick and clean.

At that moment, there was a notable change in the male's breathing as a shudder ran through him. Jess cast a questioning glance at John, who simply shook his head. There was nothing they could do.

Then a strange silence filled the night and Jess realized the
chupacabra
had drawn his last breath. She gazed upon his lifeless body and as she watched, the texture of his skin began to harden. Within a matter of seconds, though it was the middle of the night, the
chupacabra
turned to stone and Jess knew that when the sun went down tomorrow evening, he would not turn back.

If only she'd been able to do something to help him. Perhaps with time and more research…

When John took her by the hand to lead her away, she didn't resist. This time, as they walked through the cemetery, she took another look at the statues she passed. What she had previously assumed were actual stone carvings, she now knew to be dead
chupacabras
.

Jess woke up late in the afternoon of the next day still depressed over the death of the
chupacabra
. She had learned a lot in that one evening and was busy entering her observations into her journal as she waited for the coffee to finish brewing.

Intent on her train of thought, she jumped when she heard a noise behind her.

"Do you have to be so loud?" she growled as John came to stand beside her.

"Hello, sunshine," he replied in a caustic tone. "Aren't we in a good mood?" He reached past her into the cabinet to take down a coffee mug. To her dismay, he pulled the carafe off the warming plate before the coffee was finished brewing and poured himself a cup.

"Hey, what are you doing?" she cried, jumping to her feet to snatch a paper towel, anticipating coffee running everywhere. He looked at her like she was crazy and casually put the carafe back on the dry warming plate.

"It's got an automatic shutoff," he pointed out before raising the cup to his mouth and taking a drink. Then he winked at her. "You should have some.
Might put you in a better mood."

"Ugh," she growled again, reaching for the coffee and pouring a cup for herself. "What are you doing up so early, anyway? It's only
three o'clock
."

He took a sip of the hot beverage and let it work its way down his throat. "I need to run into town," he said after he swallowed. "I want to follow up with the local authorities. See if they've noticed any unusual deaths lately. Also, in case I haven't been fired, I should check in with my department back home. When this is all over, it might be nice to have a job to go back to."

"How long will you be gone?"

"Hopefully just a couple of hours," he said, running a hand down his face. Despite the way he sounded, she knew he had to be exhausted. She watched him walk over to the window and look out without wincing too much. The skies were overcast with the promise of rain, making it look prematurely dark. He might not even need his sunglasses, she thought.

"Why don't you come with me?" John surprised her by asking.

"Into the
New Orleans
police station?
During Mardi
Gras
? I don't think so, thanks. I'll stay here and go over my notes."

"All right.
I won't be gone long." He rose and poured himself another cup of coffee to take with him. "Do
me
a
favor
and be careful, okay?"

She gave him that look that said she'd been fighting vampires a lot longer than he had and knew how to take care of herself. He apparently got the message because she saw a faint smile touch his mouth before he left the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, Jess watched him go and felt the loss of his absence more acutely than she wanted to admit. She'd gotten used to having him around. Knowing that it would do her no good to sit around and regret not having gone with him, she topped off her coffee and returned to her bedroom, where she had notes spread across the bed.

Her goal was to put together the most comprehensive volume on
chupacabras
that she could. It would never be a text available to the public, but that wasn't important to her.

Picking up her pen and notebook, she started to write out her thoughts and impressions. About forty minutes into her work, she remembered the plantation house from the magazine. In the excitement of finding the colony at the cemetery, she'd forgotten about the old manor. Was it possible that there were two
chupacabra
colonies in the area—the one at the cemetery and a second one at the plantation home? It seemed unlikely, which meant the home had to be near.

Now, suddenly consumed with curiosity, she put down her pen and notebook and stood up. She had to find out.

She glanced outside. It was still cloudy and gray, but there was enough light outside for her to see, which meant she could do a little exploring before the sun went down.

Focused on her plan, she left the mansion and made the short hike to the cemetery. In the fading light, it seemed more ominous than ever. The
chupacabras
, looking like Gothic statues, stood frozen among the massive tombs. Unable to resist the temptation, she walked among them, dwarfed by their size and grateful that sunset was still hours away.

She headed to the far end of the lot and found the back gate. The area here was overgrown, but now that she was standing there, she noticed a faded path leading off into the tangled undergrowth. She followed it through the woods and stopped when she reached the end of the trail to look around. She was standing on the edge of a backyard lawn that sloped upward to a large, worn house whose once-white exterior had suffered the ravages of time and neglect.

It was a stately home, Jess thought, and her gaze quickly
traveled
to the roof. She struggled to make out the various shapes and couldn't help but smile when, through the
gloom,
she spotted the
chupacabra
sitting on the corner.

After finding the first one the others were easier to see, and soon she'd spotted six forms along the roof's edge. She hurried forward, wanting to take a better look. The neglect became more apparent as she drew closer, and by the time she'd walked around to the front, she knew that she'd found the house from the magazine.

Excitement welled up inside her. She could tell the place was vacant and wondered, as she hurried up the front porch steps, if there was any chance at all that the door might be unlocked.

The outer screen door hung at a slight angle from loosened hinges. She pulled it open carefully, not wanting to break it, and noticed a "For Sale" sign propped at the base of the door, where it had obviously fallen.

She was mildly curious about the price of the house. Not that she was interested in purchasing it, she quickly told herself. She knocked on the inner door and waited, almost holding her breath. After getting no response, she concluded it was empty.

Gripping the doorknob, she turned it. To her surprise, it opened easily.

When she pushed open the door, she saw where the frame had been gouged. It was almost as if someone had shoved the door open while the dead bolt was still thrown.

It would have taken a great deal of strength to force the door open—and she couldn't understand why anyone would do it.

Stepping into the foyer, she saw that the place was mostly unfurnished, but that was all she could see. There was very little light coming in through the windows. It would be difficult to explore the house without a flashlight, but curiosity drove her on.

To the left of the entry was the formal living room, and she went over to the doorway to peek inside. Here, again, the only light available was the little bit coming in behind her, through the open front door. She wished she could see more and noticed that the windows in the room were heavily draped. Knowing the outside of the windows weren't boarded, she pulled open the drapes to let in more light.

Then she turned around to inspect the room.

For several seconds, her mind refused to accept what was before her. When it did, her blood ran cold.

The room looked much the way John had described the one in D.C.; she saw her name was scrawled across the walls in blood. She could barely breathe. Even more distressing were the two bodies—male and female—lying in opposite corners of the room. They were clearly dead, and Jess had no doubt that Brody had been here.

As she wondered what she should do, a faint stirring sound drifted to her from elsewhere in the house. It suddenly occurred to her that Brody might still be here; that this might even be his new lair.

Worse yet, while she'd been busy exploring, the sun had been setting. When the sound from the back of the house came again, she didn't wait around to see what it was.