Dark Salvation (5 page)

Vampires were real. She’d just met one in the flesh. And though she hated to admit it, his flesh wasn’t all that bad either. She’d expected to see sallow skin and a gaunt frame, something out of
Nosferatu
. Maybe even some crazy looking fangs. Nicholas was nothing like that. Despite his abrasive attitude, he was attractive and muscular, his dusky blue eyes were mesmerizing, and his teeth… sharp, but very discreet. She’d only really gotten a good glance at them when he smiled. And though it made her stomach turn at the idea of what he did with those fangs, she felt a twinge of excitement seeing them. A small thought crept into her mind.
What would it feel like to be bitten?
As soon as the thought took form, she pushed it away. That was exactly the kind of thing that invited trouble. She’d already had plenty of that.

The reality of this new information was unsettling. Vampires were obviously real. Witches were real. Jeremy had accused her of that more times than she could count. And if all of what Nicholas had said was true, and the Saints were killing all things unnatural, then she was a target herself.

That couldn’t be right. No. There was no way Jeremy, the same man who once filled the entire room with candles and red rose petals, could kill her in cold blood.

She shouldered her messenger bag and began the slow trek back to her hotel room. There was no need to search other churches, this was the one. She was sure of it. But, as an accused witch, she couldn’t just waltz in if the rest of the Saints were inside. She’d have to find another way to get in touch with Jeremy, privately. Only then could she hope to get him to see reason.

Whether truly naïve or just pretending, Kitara had just become a person of great interest to Nicholas. He quietly followed as she trudged back toward her hotel, hoping she’d lead him right to that Saint boyfriend of hers.

He couldn’t help staring at her lithe body as she hopped up the steps to the doorway, escaping the cold. She was a pretty thing; even he had to admit that. A distraction, to be sure, but he had no time for that kind of thing. Especially not with a fragile human. No, he needed to keep his head in the game. The Saints were here; Kitara had confirmed that much. And where the Saints were, danger wouldn’t be too far behind.

He still couldn’t fathom how a woman who’d admitted to dating a Saint could still be so clueless about their true nature. Not to mention the way she’d reached out to touch his fangs. Why had she done that? And why had it stirred such unusual feelings within him?

Nicholas hoped for something good to break up the monotony of his existence, but hours passed without even a hint of a Saint. Watching and waiting outside the hotel, the night proved uneventful and put Nicholas in a cranky mood. He was itching for some action, and after hours of waiting, dawn was slowly lightening the horizon, forcing him to retreat to his home.

The house was silent on his arrival. Santino sat alone in the parlor. The haggard old vampire was his least favorite member of the clan, but a good ally to have in battle. The former Mercenary and Saint knew just about everything there was to know about the Acta Sanctorum and its operation. 

He sat atop the ottoman in front of the fire warming his hands. “Any news?” No matter what Santino had to say, his words always came out with a gravely edge, as if he had a permanent case of laryngitis.

“Uneventful as usual these days.” Nicholas decided to leave his encounter with the woman unspoken.

“That surprises me. The Saints never give up. They took a huge hit when we cleaned out their repository.” He turned his battle scarred face toward me. “They should be as mad as fire ants.”

“If they are, they have a funny way of showing it.” Nicholas scoffed.

Santino shrugged, a small movement that tightened his shoulders. “Calm before the storm.”

Nicholas remembered the necklace he’d taken off that asshole Paul. He dug it out of his pocket and tossed it on the ottoman next to Santino. “What do you make of this?”

The old vampire reach out a scarred hand to pick up the large flat gold cross. “Where did you get this?”

“Picked it up off of my dinner two nights ago.”

One of  Santino’s bushy eyebrows lifted. “Really?”

“I’m going to venture a guess and say that’s a Saint’s version of a dog tag, am I right?”

“Well, it certainly looks like one.” Santino flipped over the flat, gold cross and ran his thumb along the smooth surface. “Says the name Paul Drummond. I’m assuming he was dinner?” Santino cringed. Only having recently changed his alliances, the old Saint did not hold to the same diet as the rest of the clan. He still chose to live off animals. How he managed to stay strong, Nicholas would never know. Animal blood was too weak to sustain him. Nicholas often wondered if Santino had a blood donor, perhaps his human partner, the old artifact collector, Saul. Not that it was his place to ask. But he did have to suspect.

“Yeah, pretty tasty too.”

Santino failed to rise to Nicholas’s taunt. “I’d say, if – and that is a big if – he was a Saint, he was pretty new. A rookie, barely inducted into the order. The metal here is too new. Too shiny. No wear and tear or signs of fatigue.”

That piqued Nicholas’s interest. Were the Saints keeping quiet because they were recruiting? Amassing strength before they intended to strike? It would certainly make sense.

Santino eyed Nicholas suspiciously. “Where did you say you found this?”

“A club downtown. Lysander dragged me out.”

Santino gave a noncommittal grunt. “Well, I wouldn’t go crazy just yet. I said this looks like one of the Saint’s tags, but it could just as well be one of these new trendy things I keep seeing. Large gold chains and crosses and whatever else you can think of being worn around men’s necks these days.” He tossed the chain back at Nicholas.

“I hope you’re right.” Nicholas wasn’t convinced. He pocketed the cross intending to hold on to it, maybe even check with Kitara and see if her
boyfriend
had one just like it. “Either way, I’ll be keeping an extra close eye out. Any word from Crystal or Drew?” His clanmates had been gone far too long for Nicholas’s comfort level. Centuries of traveling together as one pack had kept them close knit, and with the threat of the Saints still looming over everyone, Nicholas wanted his family under one roof.

“According to Lysander, they’re still cleaning things up in Vegas.”

“We should have had that house burned to the ground. Quick cleanup. You know, the way you used to take care of things in the old days.”

Again, Santino failed to rise to Nicholas’s taunt. “That was not your decision. Lysander had many beloved treasures there. He would not be pleased to see any harm come to them.”

As much as Nicholas loved his brother and clan leader, the old vampire’s affection for trinkets was annoying. Being nomadic himself, Nicholas had never developed attachments to things. He didn’t understand the appeal of collecting things for storage. Still, he would not speak his reservations aloud. It wasn’t his place. “Well, I’ll be happy when Crystal and Drew return. The more of us we have at the ready, the better I will feel when the storm finally does come.”

“You looking for a fight?” Santino sounded genuinely curious.

Nicholas had to stop for a moment. Was he just looking for a fight, or was he truly looking out for the wellbeing of his clan? “Just being prepared. You know how the Saints operate. They like to catch vampires unawares.”

“Being prepared is one thing. Warmongering is another.”

“Really, Santino? You accuse me of warmongering? You yourself have spoken at length on the atrocities you’ve witnessed and been made to perform at the command of the Acta Sanctorum.”

“I do not disagree. They need to be stopped. But you can’t rush into this. We’ve done quite a lot already, emptying out that church, but we are not ready for another fight. We just don’t have the manpower.”

To that end Santino was right. Both the vampire clan and the local werewolf pack had taken heavy losses in the last battle they’d fought. Neither of them was at full strength.

“Which is why we need to be all the more prepared. We cannot allow the Saints to amass a new force while we’re still licking our wounds.”

“Sure, be prepared. Continue the patrols. Keep a sharp eye,” Santino said. “Just don’t get us into a fight… yet.”

Santino had the reputation for singlehandedly taking out clans of vampires in his heyday, and yet now he was counseling against those very same actions. Nicholas wondered silently if the old hunter was soft on his former masters.

“We’ll fight when we have to. Speaking of the Saints, that old church had a visitor today.” He hoped that might provoke a reaction from the old hunter.

“Who?” Not exactly the excited reaction he’d hoped for, but at least Santino sounded curious.

“A woman I’d met earlier this week. Just a human.” He tried to sound as nonchalant as Santino was acting. “She seemed innocent enough, but she sure had an interest in that church.”

“Did this woman have specific business there?”

“Didn’t really stop to chat,” Nicholas lied. “Just watched her snoop around. She appeared to be looking for someone or something.”

“Can’t be too careful. I’ll make sure Saul has finished clearing out the repository. We don’t want anyone stumbling across any old relics.”

“I’d still feel better if we kept those artifacts closer to home.”

“Normally, I would agree, but if the Saints are still around, they’ll target
our
homes, not the homes of innocent mortals.”

“As long as that home is well protected…”

“I get the impression that you do not trust me.” Santino’s voice dropped to a dangerous level.

“You’re a former Saint. Your human friend is a former Saint. You tell me.”

“Lysander trusts me. I have done nothing but aid your cause these last few months. Why do you still question my loyalty?”

“You’ve given centuries to the Saints and only months to us.” He narrowed his eyes, daring the other vampire to make a move. When he didn’t, Nicholas continued. “When it comes to matters of the clan, I place my trust in Lysander. Speaking of him, where is he?”

 “Lysander and his mate both trust me. One day you will too.” Santino looked appropriately annoyed now. “But I wouldn’t bother them now; they’ve been occupied upstairs for quite some time.”

“I’ll take that under advisement.” Nicholas rose and headed up the stairs without another word.

- Jer, we need to talk. I’m in Boston.

Kitara’s message had gone without a reply. Not that she had expected Jeremy to respond. Hoped for, maybe; but the expectations for her obvious attempt to get his attention were very slim. Still though, she needed to figure out how she was going to talk to him. 

The church had proven to be a very big lead. The vampire stalking around outside was proof of that. She smiled to herself. She’d actually met a real live vampire. Could she call him that though? Was he alive? He certainly looked it. Muscular, vital, and those eyes. Mesmerizing. She could see how women got caught in their pull. Just one glance and she herself didn’t want to look away. But thanks to Jeremy’s warnings, she knew better. Nicholas may have had those dusky blue weapons at his command, but she was ahead of the game, knowing just how to prevent him from taking over her mind. Of course, that also meant dealing with the after effects, but she’d pay that price if it meant keeping a clear head.

Even if all of the other stories Jeremy had told her about vampires were false, there was one other thing that remained true.: They drank blood. Human blood. Those sharp fangs hiding behind Nicholas’s thin lips were not just for show. And she was not about to see them in action.

Sitting in bed, mindlessly reading status updates on her favorite social website, Kitara glanced impatiently at her phone, futilely hoping to see a reply from Jeremy.

Nothing.

She’d have to do better than this. She hadn’t come all this way just to sit in her hotel room waiting for her man. She needed a real plan. Something that involved her actually coming face to face with Jeremy.

But nothing was coming to mind.

“Coffee to the rescue.” Kitara threw herself off the bed and quickly packed up her messenger bag with her camera and wallet. She always worked better with a little energy buzz, and since she had time to kill, why not snap off a few more photos for her portfolio while she was wandering around, playing tourist in the city? Boston had some awesome parks, and she’d been dying to explore them since she’d arrived.

Just the thought of spending a little free time outdoors had her spirits already lifting. She tossed on her favorite flannel shirt, faded blue jeans, and hiking boots, and set off for a little fun.

A quick stop at Starbucks for a super-pepperminty mocha and all was right with the world again for Kitara. Well, as right as it could be for the moment. She decided to take the Freedom Trail and ended up spending most of the day wandering around the Boston Public Gardens. Daylight faded and before she knew it, the lamps were casting their glow all around her.

She’d paused by a whimsical group of statues, a momma duck and her eight baby ducks in tow. Kitara had taken hundreds of pictures along the way, but couldn’t pass up an opportunity to snap a few of these adorable little statues.

Her phone buzzed, making her jump.

-Where are you?

The message came from Jeremy’s cellphone number.
He actually replied
! She practically squealed with elation. She beamed a smile down at the little screen and reread the words over and over. Kitara had sent so many texts in the first week after he’d left and not one had gotten a response; but here, now, his words brought her so much hope.

-Public Gardens. You want to talk?

-Be there in 15 minutes. Don’t leave.

She fumbled with the ring around her finger. A surge of giddy excitement had her buzzing with more energy than the coffee she’d previously drunk. This was working out better than she could have hoped. She knew once he saw her, once they talked, Jeremy would see reason. They’d had a great life together before the Saints. and once they moved past this bump in the road, they would have a great future ahead of them. That hope kept her going. She’d never been the overly gushy romantic type, but even so, she believed that real love could overcome any obstacle.

Kitara spent the next fifteen minutes in eager anticipation until her phone buzzed again.

-Where are you?

-By the ducks.

A quick flip of her hair, a fresh coat of lipstick, and a piece of peppermint gum – just to make sure her breath was fresh – and Kitara was ready to wow her man. One look at her and he’d remember what he was missing.

A sudden uncomfortable feeling, like eyes on the back of her neck, told Kitara that she had company. But no matter what direction she turned, there was no one. What was taking him so long?

“Ms. Vanders?” a male voice called out to her.

Not Jeremy’s voice, though. This one was deeper, with a hint of an east coast accent.

Surprised, Kitara turned around.

The bald man standing before her appeared to be a soldier, but in a uniform she’d never seen. His fatigues were solid black, all the way down to his well-polished boots. On his shoulder, where she expected to see his rank, there was a gothic-looking maroon cross.

What the hell? 

Despite his appearance, the man appeared congenial enough, extending his hand and offering her a friendly smile.

A glint of gold sparkled at his neck. She recognized the plain flat crucifix pendant. It was the same as the one Jeremy had been given when he joined the Saints.

This man was one of them, too. And, after Nicholas’s warning, she was not about to go anywhere with this soldier. “I’m sorry. I think you have the wrong person,” she lied.

“No, ma’am, I don’t believe I do.” He sounded so normal, she almost believed he was, but knowing he was a Saint negated everything his posture and calm voice would have her believe.

“I have a message from Jeremy.”

Warning bells sounded in her head.
Fabulous, just fabulous!

“He’s been busy with training, but he wanted me to come get you and take you to him.”

Kitara tried to back away slowly, but the soldier matched her steps.

“Sir, I don’t know who the hell you are or who this Jeremy person is, but if you don’t leave now, I’ll scream.” She wished she’d thought of something better, more threatening, but her heart was racing and all she could think of was “run!”

The soldier’s smile turned south. His eyes cinched tight. He dropped his offered hand to his side, fingers brushing against the handle of a holstered gun.

She understood the wordless threat, but that was not going to convince her to go with him. If anything, it sent her fight-or-flight reflexes into high gear.

He took one more step closer, crowding her with his body. She knew running was her only option; but he was armed, so she needed to give herself a little head start. He outweighed her, and if the Saints were anything like real soldiers, they had probably been combat-trained. She had no real hope of taking him in a fair fight, but he was a man, and all men have the same weak point. She only hoped it would buy her enough time to get away.

“Okay. Sure. I’ll go with you.” She stepped forward, brushing up against his body with hers.

Confusion washed across the soldier’s face for the briefest of moments. Kitara smiled innocently as she maneuvered her leg between his. Before he knew what hit him, she brought her knee up hard.

The soldier doubled over with a strangled groan. She’d never been more thankful to her brother for forcing her to take those self-defense classes than she was now. Remembering what her instructor had said about incapacitating an opponent, Kitara saw another opportunity to strike and brought her elbow down against the back of the soldier’s neck.

Without even looking to see if he would be able to follow, Kitara pivoted and took off at a full sprint.

She zigged and zagged as she ran, knowing that if the soldier grabbed his gun and attempted to fire on her, she’d have a better opportunity to avoid getting hit.

***

Hoping to see a little action, Nicholas patrolled on foot, deciding to swing by Kitara’s hotel. She’d already proved to be a source of intel on the Saints, whether she knew it or not, and he guessed that where she was, a Saint would soon follow.

He caught the familiar sweet orange and vanilla scent. It was faint, hours old, but the pleasing smell was still strong enough for his enhanced senses to track. Following it led him through the city into the large Public Gardens. It wasn’t long before he spotted her. And, just as he suspected, a Saint was there too.

Kitara was attempting to flee the scene, running in a strange swerving pattern away from her pursuer. Behind her, the large bald man, wearing the familiar uniform of the saints, was almost on top of her.

Nicholas heart raced at the prospect of fresh blood and a chance to take out a Saint. He took off in a sprint, putting all of his supernatural speed to use, and overpowered the soldier in moments.

The Saint barely had time to let out a muffled yelp before Nicholas’s fangs found their mark. Deep into his neck they sank, destroying the carotid artery, flooding Nicholas’s mouth with a rush of hot fresh blood. The coppery-sweet liquid was so smooth and rich, he could hardly gulp it down fast enough. Fueled with adrenaline, the Saint’s heart pumped strong and hard. It was just what Nicholas needed: the rush, the energy, the life-giving essence. He didn’t need a fresh infusion of blood more than once per week, but thanks to the woman, Kitara, he’d already enjoyed double that.

Too soon for Nicholas’s taste, the Saint’s heart faltered and the blood flow began to slow. Nicholas took his last few gulps before the last shuddering breaths escaped his victims lips.

Nicholas dropped the limp body to the ground. He let out a sigh as the last few ripples of pleasure rolled through his body. A little splotch of blood dripped from his chin. He wiped his mouth before turning to Kitara, not wanting to scare her with the remnants of his frenzied feeding. “You’re welcome… again.”

“For what?” The horror on her face was unmistakable. “You killed that man!”

What the hell was this woman’s problem? Her shrill tone and the accusatory glare in her eyes enraged him. “That’s three times I’ve saved you. He was Acta Sanctorum. Can’t you just thank me and move on?”

Her body trembled, but not from the cold. “I’m not going to thank you for killing someone.”

“Suit yourself.” Nicholas bent down and began rifling through the dead man’s pockets.

“Have some respect for the dead.”

“Why bother? He had no respect for you,” Nicholas murmured coldly. “He’s incapable of caring now anyway.”

 “Have you no compassion? Yeah, he’s dead. Because you killed him… and you drank his blood... in front of me.”

“You could have turned away.”

If eyes could shoot daggers, hers certainly would. Disgust and judgment radiated off her like the ripples in disturbed water.

Unfazed by her anger, Nicholas shrugged. "I'm a vampire, sweetheart. That's what we do."

"He might have had a wife and family.”

“That’s not my concern.” He pulled a handgun from the dead man and tossed it aside, continuing to search the body for anything of real value to him. When he came across the necklace and matching gold cross, he smiled inwardly. Two saints in two days. This was just the sign he needed. Those cockroaches were infesting the city again, and he was all too eager to exterminate them.

“You really don't care about human life, do you?" Though her heart pounded erratically with fear, there was none in her angry voice.

“Nope.” Nicholas was not about to get into a morality war with this woman. He pulled out the dead man’s wallet and tossed it aside. “Nothing good here.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

He’d been called that by so many people, but somehow hearing her say it struck a chord with him. “I’ve been called worse.” He tried to sound as if he didn’t care, but for some strange reason, he did. He opened his mouth to say something, but found the words escaped him. Humans never understood. Perhaps it was better off she thought him a jerk.

“I can’t believe you. Human life has to hold some meaning.”

“It does. If humans weren’t around, I’d have to eat animals.”

“You’re nothing but a monster, just like Jeremy said.”

That hurt. He had saved her life, and she hated him for it. He turned on her, anger setting his heart pounding. How dare she talk this way to him after he’d saved her? “He would have killed you without a second thought. That’s what the Saints do.
They
are the real monsters, not me.”

Perhaps it was his suddenly sharp tone, or maybe she realized he was telling the truth; whatever it was, Kitara paused. He heard her take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. You did save me. I’ve... I’ve just never witnessed a murder.” Her body was still trembling, and her heart thumped so erratically that he wondered if she might pass out. The tang of her fear wafted up to his nose. “You tore that guy’s throat out, in front of me. You killed him. You drank his blood.”