Blood Therapy (Kismet Knight, Ph.D., Vampire Psychologist) (39 page)

Alan took my arm and guided me to the entrance. “No—you’re thinking of the Dakota over on West Seventy-Second Street, the place where John Lennon was murdered. That alone marks it as a horror site for me. It was built in the late eighteen hundreds. This building is a little older and a lot bigger.”

A middle-age doorman dressed in a black military-type uniform with gold buttons, tassels, and trim, plus a jaunty matching hat, opened the door for us and saluted. “May I help you?”

We stepped inside. “Hello, Wesley.”

“I’m sorry—I didn’t recognize you, sir. Your mother is expecting you and your guest.”

He escorted us across the spacious marble lobby past a bank of elevators, but instead of stopping there as I expected, we kept moving toward what appeared to be the double-door entrance to a room. Wesley inserted a key and unlocked the door, revealing a private elevator.

Alan responded to my unasked question. “This is a special elevator for the penthouse residents.”

“Have a good evening, sir, ma’am.” Wesley tipped his hat and waited for us to enter the elevator.

We stepped inside, and Alan punched the only button available. The door shut. We rode up to the top floor uneventfully in the wood-paneled box, and I released the breath I’d been holding. I guess I’d expected to see some kind of apparition in a building this old, and I wondered if I hadn’t seen anything because there wasn’t anything to see, or if my cutting off the action back in the hotel wasn’t associated with any specific place. Maybe I’d ended all the ghost-viewing. At least for today. I could only hope.

Olivia was waiting for us when the door opened on the penthouse floor. She ran to Alan and hugged him. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She looked at me. “Both of you. Come inside.” She released Alan, hooked her arms through ours, and walked us into her apartment. Although the word
apartment
didn’t do it justice: it was a combination of antique store, museum, and movie set—a wealthy-client-focused real estate agent’s wet dream.

The moment we entered, I was overwhelmed by a heavy, bad feeling.

“So what’s the news about Colin, Mom? Has somebody found him?” Alan turned to face her.

“No, but one of his friends said that several piles of ash and skeletal remains were found in the lair of one of Colin’s enemies. Apparently somebody killed them.”

Alan hesitated, clearly thinking the same thing I was. “I don’t suppose there was any way to identify the remains? Was Colin there?”

I knew he’d died there.

“I don’t know yet. Devereux went to check.” She started to cry. “But I’m sure he’s not there. He’ll be found alive. He wouldn’t leave me.” Her emotions belied her words. She covered her eyes with her hands and sobbed.

I looked around for tissues and found a box on a nearby antique desk.

“Come and sit down, Mom.” Alan guided Olivia toward a small couch and sat next to her. He took the box I offered and handed her a couple of tissues.

Sensing someone standing behind me, I turned to apologize for stepping in front of him or her and found a man holding his finger against his lips in a “don’t talk” gesture.

“Don’t let them know I’m here,” said the attractive man with a British accent. He was average height, maybe five feet, ten inches, slender with dark eyes and pitch-black hair pulled back into a short ponytail at the nape of his neck. His European-cut light-gray suit, black shirt, and silver tie were disheveled.

I glanced back to see if Alan, who was still patting Olivia’s arm and trying to soothe her crying, had noticed or heard the man. Apparently not.

“Tell them you need to use the bathroom. I’ll meet you there.” He gazed longingly at Olivia.

If I needed any proof that Colin was dead, or no longer undead, this visit put paid to it. I wasn’t happy to realize that I’d been selected to break the horrible news to Olivia that her mate was gone, but I didn’t see what choice I had. Yes, I could hold back the information, watch her suffer in the not-knowing, let myself off the hook. But all those options were unacceptable.

I looked at the ghost of Colin, set my resolve, and moved toward Alan and Olivia. “Excuse me—I’m going to find the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s down that hallway.” Alan pointed.

“Thanks.”

I found the bathroom, which was luxurious enough to be an upscale spa, turned on the light, and closed the door.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to meet under happier circumstances.” Colin walked over to an actual gold toilet, lowered the lid, and sat. “Now I wish I’d fulfilled Olivia’s request that I visit you professionally. Maybe I wouldn’t have continued to make such poor decisions. Please”—he pointed toward a chair at the nearby makeup table—“have a seat.”

I pulled the chair close to him and eased into it. “So you were murdered by people you owed money to, as Olivia believes?”

“Yes.” He shook his head slowly. “And no.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I did owe them money, but that wasn’t the reason I went there.”

“It sounds strange that vampires can control one another with money. I mean, why would it even be an issue? Couldn’t you all just take as much as you want by materializing in a bank or having humans give it to you?”

“You’re right—we can have whatever we want, but there are those among us who still cling to the fears and beliefs about money we had when we were human. Especially the younger vampires. They haven’t figured out yet that mortal notions of wealth no longer apply. And some of them simply enjoy the sport of acquiring money.”

“So, if it wasn’t about money—?”

“It was about Olivia. And Devereux.”

“What?”

“They were preparing to abduct her to get at Devereux.”

“What’s Devereux got to do with this?”

“It’s well known that he’s been Olivia’s protector and mentor for a long time, and he’s very rich and powerful. They assumed Devereux would do whatever was necessary to get her back. Thanks to my own connections, I heard about their plan. I stupidly went to confront them, thinking I could negotiate or distract them long enough to consult with Devereux about a way to keep Olivia safe, but there were too many of them. I was out of my league.” He gave a sad smile. “As usual, I made the wrong choice.”

Listening to him made me wonder if I could counsel ghosts, because Olivia had been right about Colin’s depression. Why couldn’t I treat them, too? Ghosts weren’t any more unnatural than vampires. But I doubted ghosts had a source of income, so maybe I’d be doing some pro bono work with the non-material.

“And they killed you?”

“Yes. They ripped off my head and tore out my heart. The standard vampire assassination.”

I’ll have to remember that.

I couldn’t think of a tactful way to ask the question that immediately sprang to mind, so I just blurted it out. “But if they did those things to you, how is it that you’re … whole … now? You’re not missing your head or your heart.”

He didn’t appear bothered by the question. “I can manifest as I wish. I don’t know if that’s because I could change my appearance as a vampire or if it’s a ghost thing, but I assumed you’d prefer this form.”

“Er, yes. Thank you.” I tried not to think about what I would do if some apparition appeared in its most grisly aspect. “What about the piles of ash and skeletons that were found? Is one of them yours?”

“Yes. They’ll be able to identify me by my clothing. That’s one reason I wanted to talk to you alone. I want you to speak to her for me, to tell her what happened and how sorry I am. Will you do that?”

“Yes, of course.” I stood, preparing to return to Alan and Olivia. “Wait—you said they killed you, but there were other remains present. Who do they belong to?”

“That’s the other thing I wanted to tell you. After they took my heart and before I was beheaded, a tall bald man wearing a long black coat appeared in the room. I heard someone scream, then I was gone. I’m sure that man destroyed the others. You should tell Devereux.” With that, Colin vanished.

“Colin!”
Lucifer? How the hell can he be everywhere, all the time? Exactly what kind of mutant vampire is he?

I hurried back into the main room where Olivia was still sitting on the couch and Alan, his face red and his hands in fists, stood arguing with Michael.

My surprise had to be apparent on my face. “What are you doing here?”

They both looked at me.

“I followed you,” Michael said. “I saw the doorman use a key to let you into the private elevator. As luck would have it, he left the keys on his desk while he went to the bathroom and I came up.” He pulled a ring of keys from his pocket. “I’ll bet he’s going crazy looking for these right about now.”

“You
bastard
. I told you this was private business.” Alan reared back and punched Michael in the jaw, then followed with a blow to his stomach. Michael crashed to the floor like a downed tree in the forest. “I’m going to make you sorry you’re alive.”

Michael sat up, clutching his midsection. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m not holding back anymore, dick-brain. You’re toast. Burned toast.” He leaped to his feet and came at Alan.

Olivia and I shouted, “Stop!” at the same time, and both men stopped dead. Olivia was obviously skilled at using her vampire voice to good effect.

She stood and walked toward the two men. “Step away from each other. Now!”

And like puppets on her string, they did.

She looked at Michael. “Who are you—or perhaps the better question is
what
are you—and why are you here?”

Before he could speak, Devereux appeared and strode over to Olivia.

“Master! Master!” Michael said and fell to his knees, looking up at Devereux with wide-eyed adoration.

“Silence!” Devereux said.

Alan and I looked at each other and said in unison, “Master
?
”

What the hell? Michael and Devereux know each other?

“I have painful news, my friend,” Devereux said gently to Olivia. “Come and sit.”

“No, Devereux, no—don’t say it. Please.” Olivia went to the couch and covered her ears with her hands. “I can’t bear it.”

Alan quickly sat next to her.

Devereux claimed the other side and waited until she could listen. “We found Colin’s clothing, Olivia. I am so sorry.”

She threw herself into his arms and wailed. He patted her back and rocked her gently, a profoundly sad look on his face.

Michael moved to sit at Devereux’s feet, trying to mimic his Master’s heart-broken facial expression.

Alan glared at him, then looked helplessly at his mother.

“What happened? Who killed my Colin?” Olivia extricated herself from Devereux’s arms, plucked a tissue from the box, and wiped her face.

“We do not know yet, but I promise you will know as soon as I do. There were six other vampire skeletons in the room.” Devereux sighed. “How they died is a mystery.”

I figured that was my cue. “It was Lucifer.”

All eyes turned to me.

“Why would you say that? How do you know?” Alan asked.

“Colin told me.”

Simultaneously, everyone rose and continued to stare at me.

Colin appeared right in front of me, close enough for his nose to touch mine, and I jumped back a few inches. “Hey!”

“Tell her,” the ghost said.

“I will. Give me some room here.”

“What’s going on, Kismet? Who are you talking to?” Alan inched closer to me.

“Colin is here.”

Olivia looked around the room, her hand pressed to her chest, a hopeful expression on her face. “Where is he, Kismet? Why can’t I see him? Is he hurt? He sent you to fetch me?”

“Mom, he’s not here physically. Remember I told you that Kismet can see ghosts?”

Olivia covered her mouth with her hand, and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. “You’re saying he’s really gone—that he’s a ghost now?”

Colin glided next to me and cleared his throat.

“Okay, Colin, what do you want me to tell Olivia?” I turned toward the man only I could see and nodded, encouraging him to speak.

Alan pointed to the empty beside me. “Is he there?”

“Yes. Olivia.” I held out my hands to her and angled us so that we were facing Colin. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Tell her I’m so sorry. I never meant to leave her. I promised her I never would. The vampires who killed me are dead themselves. Some deformed-looking vampire in a black coat took them out. Tell her she’s safe for now and that I’ll always be with her, even if she can’t see me. The promise I made to stay with her will bind me to her forever.”

I repeated his message, plus everything he’d told me in the bathroom.

She cried harder.

Devereux’s eyes locked onto mine when I mentioned the guy in the black coat.

“Tell her I’ll figure out a way to communicate with her. I only have so much energy right now, but I will practice and grow stronger in the future. Tell her I love her.”

He vanished as I shared the rest of his words.

Olivia grabbed my hand. “He’s gone?”

I squeezed her fingers. “For now.”

She walked back to the couch and sat, weeping silently. Alan went to her, braced his arm around her shoulders, and let her cry.

“That was very moving,” Michael said in his most compassionate-therapist tone. He sat on the floor at Olivia’s feet, ignoring Alan’s pointed scowl.

Apparently, Michael had told a lot more lies than I’d realized. He’d never been who he said he was—not any version—and now he was acting like Devereux’s lapdog. Reality had shifted. Again. As much as I wanted to confront the lies, it felt tacky to be pissed about this latest deception in the face of everything Olivia was dealing with.

Devereux walked to me. “Thank you for helping Colin communicate with Olivia.” He lifted my hand and kissed it. “I do not know how she is going to cope with the loss of him. I hope you do not mind if I encourage her to come and see you, professionally.”

“You’re welcome.” I decided to be polite. For now. “You made things easier by telling her before I had to. I’d be happy to counsel her.”

He glanced at Alan. “I am glad she has Alan now. He might be her saving grace.”