Corin & Angelique (After the Fall of Night) (9 page)

Before leaving, Angelique took one of two white roses and laid it atop the
casket. “Rest in peace, Louisa,” she released the stem.

Passing the second one to Tomes, he kissed the velvety tip before laying it
across the first rose. “Goodbye, my love,” he whispered, a tear trickling from his right eye, trailing down his cheek, and dropping onto the casket.

Angelique
grasped Tomes’s arm and they turned away. As they left Louisa to her final resting, the words to
Angel Band
weighed heavily on her mind, the melody, from this day forth, forever to remind her of this sad, sad day.

* * * *

Corin awoke with a start and crawled out of his hollowed crypt forged into the earth along the back wall of the dark room—a lion emerging from his lair. He cocked his head while sniffing the air. A steady rumble emanated from the depths of his throat. Someone was in the house!

Sensing the presence growing nearer, he quickly took cover behind some
stored furniture. Within seconds, the door above him creaked open, allowing the light of day to penetrate the recess. He looked up and squinted, able to make out the form of a man standing in the doorway.

“Corin,” the intruder called out. “Are you down there? What am I saying? Of
course you’re down there. Where else would you be?”

Recognizing the voice, Corin stepped out of hiding. “Shut the door…please,”
he yelled up to Tomes, shielding his sensitive eyes.

“I’d be happy to accommodate, but unlike you, I can’t see in the dark. There’s
a light switch here. Can I flip it on?”

“No, I’ve got it down here.” Corin lit a lantern that cast plenty of light for
Tomes to find his way.

“I know you wouldn’t want me to fall and break my neck,” Tomes remarked
snidely.

“Of course not,” Corin responded. “And if this visit is about Angelique, you
have nothing to be concerned about.”

“Not entirely,” Tomes shut the door and started
down the narrow staircase. “You know, you should consider installing an inside lock on the door. You’re vulnerable down here. Anyone could bust in on you, and they may not all be as nice as me.”

“Nice…are you sure you know the meaning of the word?” Corin threw back
with a deriding laugh.

“Of course I do, von Vadim,” Tomes was smug. “But why waste manners—”

“On the likes of me?” Corin finished.

Tomes didn’t deny it.
“So, this is how a creature of the night spends his days.” He stopped at the foot of the stairs and scanned the basement. “And you sleep there?” he motioned to the crypt. “Befitting, I guess…an animal in a cave.”

“A nightwalker in his bed,” Corin corrected, trying not to let Tomes’s
loathsome remarks agitate him. “And it’s who I am, Tomes. You know that.”

“It’s
quite a mess down here, a mixture of storage space, tomb, and some semblance of a bedroom.” Tomes moved further into the room. “Musty too. A couple of air vents wouldn’t hurt…or a window. But the light would shine in and what, burn you to a crisp?”

Corin sighed. Tomes’s offensive, tiresome yapping was growing old.

“Seriously, though, you’re down here in a hole, sleeping in pitch dark, breathing stale air. You’re like a—”

“Don’t say it!” Corin cut him off.

Tomes was obviously trying to rile him, and it was working. His patience was beginning to run thin. He did have his limits, after all, and Tomes had dished out just about all the insolence he could stand for the moment.

“You don’t care for being compared to animals, huh? But you don’t mind
living like one down here in this heap,” Tomes braved one more comment.

“How about you just tell me why you’re here. What’s so important that it
couldn’t wait till evening?” Corin bit his bottom lip, striving to control his rising temper, for Angelique’s sake. He would do just about anything for her, and he knew how much she loved her brother.

“You know why I’m here. I want to know what you’ve learned about the
nightwalker.”

“Nothing yet, I’m sorry to say.”

“We can’t let him get away. Isn’t there anything I can do to help? I can’t just sit around doing nothing. I’ll go crazy.”

“There is, actually. I was trying to find out if anyone purchased any local
properties over the last few weeks, but the real estate offices close by the time I get around to them. Maybe you could make some inquiries, taking special note of any larger homesteads. Any place that would offer a nightwalker the seclusion and privacy he’d require.”

“I can do that. I take it you think this nightwalker might be planning on
sticking around, then?”

“It’s just a feeling…a place to start.”

“Okay. I’ll get right on it.”

“I have something that might help.” Corin fetched his wallet, pulling out a
business card, giving it a quick glance before handing it to Tomes. “I was at Purcell’s Garage and he passed along this agent’s card. Her name is Sandy Darnell. She’s with Brookside Realty over in Black River Falls.”

“I know the place.”

“Good. I tried to reach her several times at the cell number listed, but she never answered. Maybe you’ll have better luck.”

“I’ll head on over there and see what I can find out.”

“You know, Tomes, you could do with a little rest,” Corin remarked. “You look like hell.”

“I put my wife in her grave this morning,” Tomes replied somberly. “I won’t
rest until the demon that killed her pays, and pays good, with my kind of justice.”

Corin understood
Tomes’s pain, having endured his own share of losses over his long years of walking the earth. More, in fact, than he’d ever care to remember.

“When we catch this monster…then I’ll rest,” Tomes rubb
ed his eyes, wiping away gathering tears before they had a chance to fall.

“We do have to catch up with him, and soon, because he’ll kill again.” Corin
knew the insatiable hunger of the creature, what such a craving could do to one’s sanity, something he fought every fall of night. “It takes a strong will to fight the thirst.”

“You haven’t forgotten that when the time comes, this nightwalker is mine,
have you?” Tomes reminded Corin. “Like I said, I’ll do the serving, and it’ll be my kind of justice. The Bible says ‘eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot,’ and before that it clearly states, ‘life for a life.’ I am due my right of retribution, and I’m warning you, Corin, if you get in my way, I’ll do you in without a second thought.”

“We need to know what we’re facing before taking any action, and we know
nothing about this newcomer.”

“It makes no difference to me who or what he is. Louisa will get her justice. I
know there’s no love loss between us, but I need your help to find this monster. And when we get him, I’ll take my vengeance.”

“I’ll work with you, Tomes, only because I don’t wish to see you dead. Despite
your disdain of me, we do share a connection. Your father was a friend, and I cared too much for him not to look out for you now.”

Corin meant what he said. He would look out for Tomes, but he labored with
uncertainty over the matter of the nightwalker. He had no intention of killing the newcomer if he was merely passing through the area, doing only what it was in his nature to do—feed. However, if the nightwalker did plan to linger, Corin would make one thing clear to the immortal, that his community and the people in Hixton were, without negotiation, off limits. But in order to confront the nightwalker, he first had to find him, a task he knew would be a feat in itself.

Tomes left, eager to get to the real estate office
and make inquiries. Corin blew out the light and settled back down in his crypt, hating deceiving Tomes but knowing the man would never accept his reasoning when it came to the newcomer.

I need to know more.

Conflicted, he felt a natural sympathy for his own kind, but at the same time, his community was at risk, and that included Angelique. This, alone, made it dire for him to find the newcomer and determine whether he’d be making peace or joining Tomes in combat. He could only hope that with the coming night he’d learn the newcomer’s intentions and finally ascertain which action to take.

Needing rejuvenation, Corin closed his eyes and returned to his slumber,
but his mind continued to reel, even in sleep, pondering the critical matter at hand.

* * * *

“We seem to have a real epidemic on our hands, Sheriff. Her name’s Sandy Darnell. She was a real estate agent over at Brookside Realty,” Deputy Rudy informed Sheriff Pierson, who’d just arrived on the scene. “It’s basically the same MO as the first murder—except this killing was carried out in a much more brutal fashion.”

“Blood drained too. And by the look frozen on her face, I’d say she was
terrified,” Pierson remarked on the marred corpse of the woman. “We should rule out a sexual attack.”

“I agree,” Deputy Rudy replied. “There’s something else here you ought to see,
Sheriff.”

“What is it?”

“Take a look at these marks.” Rudy knelt and pointed out one of several jagged areas of punctured, ripped flesh.

“What on earth!”

“I think they’re animal bites,” Rudy gave his opinion.

“Wolves?” Pierson speculated.

“I wouldn’t think so, but if not, what else could it be?”

“To tell you the truth, I don’t know what to make of any of this. Well, there’s
no sense standing around gabbing. We have a job to do. Let’s get this area taped off, and get on the horn with Forensics. We need them out here ASAP
—
pictures, labs, the works,” he ordered.

“I’m one step ahead of you. They’re en route.”

“Good.” Pierson pulled out his notepad and laid a few notes to paper. “We also need to notify the medical examiner.”

“I’ll take care of it, Sheriff. Do you think we have a serial killer on our hands?”

“It sure looks that way, two women, both drained of blood. We need to do a real thorough job here. I don’t want to miss anything.”

“I’ll make everyone aware of that.”

“When Forensics gets their job done, have them send the body over to Black River Falls Memorial for an autopsy,” he instructed. “And one last thing, Rudy, has her family been contacted?”

“Not yet.”

“Well have someone contact them, preferably the husband. She’s wearing a wedding ring, so I presume she’s married.”

Rudy nodded. “Right away.”

“I want to get a handle on things before the media shows up.”

“Understood.”
Deputy Rudy went straight to his duties.

Sh
eriff Pierson squatted next to the body, examining the perplexing marks, looking up when a black Dodge Charger arrived on the scene giving rise to a profane word. This was just what he didn’t need, that blasted egotistical marshal getting under his skin like a bad itch.

Sheriff Pierson hated collaborating with the man. He certainly hadn’t
requested any outside assistance and didn’t relish the idea of having some arrogant know-it-all coming into his county implying that they were doing an insufficient job. He appreciated Black’s position—trying to determine if there was a link between the Jaffler murder and the fugitive he was tracking—giving him the right to full access to the case, however, without hearing from a higher official or the Wisconsin U.S. Marshal, he wasn’t about to hand Black the reins. This was his county and case. He may have had to work with him, but he was by no means outranked.

I don’t trust you.

Thinking back to his first encounter with Black, he couldn’t imagine a federal lawman withholding evidence, something the sheriff still believed the marshal had done, sure the man had slipped evidence from the Jaffler crime scene. He just didn’t know how he’d managed the vanishing act, wishing he’d searched him at the time.

Pierson
bridled his temper as Jordon approached with a “higher than thou” attitude, his long hair and appearance indicative of his attitude. The sheriff would have liked nothing more than to knock that smirk right off his face, but resorting to physical aggression was something his badge and position prevented him from doing. However, nothing could stop him from fantasizing about it, and with a mental image of his fist against the marshal’s jaw came a possum grin of his own. A nice, stretched out grin.

Chapter Six

The Challenge

Arriving at Jaffler Farm, light from the barn that sat beyond the farmhouse cast a hazy glow in the night. Corin followed the light, finding
Angelique brushing down a sorrel mare.