Flustered, Tezra pul ed away from Daemon. A vampire kil ed their parents in front of Katie, and what the hel did Tezra do?
Disgusted with herself, she snapped at Daemon, “Where have you been? The truth?”
“Checking Lichorus’s old haunts and a few leads on Mustaphus. No success. When are you going to tel me about Bernard’s communication with you? The truth?”
Atreides continued to watch them from the dining room and gave her a conceited smile.
Atreides had been able to listen in on Bernard’s communication. Tezra lifted her chin. “Atreides—”
Daemon’s expression turned hard. “Bernard told me. He said he didn’t trust you to solicit anyone’s help. He worried you’d get yourself kil ed.”
“Traitor.”
Daemon’s lips curved in a self-satisfied smile. “He’s a good bodyguard.”
“Like hel he is. He’s supposed to be loyal to me, not you.”
“Let’s walk along the beach.” Taking her hand, Daemon pul ed her close.
“Out of Katie’s hearing.”
Tezra turned to her sister and gave her a reassuring smile, though she felt anything but. “We’l be right back.”
“She likes to play Dominoes.” Patrico pul ed a carved wooden box from a drawer. “Don’t you, Katie? Let’s play a game while your sister talks more boring business.”
Tezra couldn’t believe how much Patrico had aided her sister. Some of the animosity she had felt for him leaving her to fight Krustalus alone dissolved.
Daemon helped Tezra on with her leather jacket, then escorted her outside.
Two wolves sitting on the wooden porch swiveled around to look at Daemon and Tezra. Both bowed their heads slightly. Five more stood on the beach watching them.
“They look out of place here,” Tezra said.
“They’re meant to be a deterrent. No need to be subtle.”
He walked her along the shore, and she shivered against the breezy cold. Gray clouds blocked any hint of the sun. Waves roared against the beach, splashing white spray on top of boulders the color of the sky. The cold air thick with the smel of fish and seawater made her think of more pleasant trips to the beach with their parents when Katie and she were little.
Daemon’s hand tightened on hers. “No more secrets, Tezra.”
“Krustalus hasn’t contacted me yet.”
“When he does, we go together.”
“He says for me to come alone.”
Daemon gave her a sinister look. “He wil expect me to come too. He knows I’m protecting you. He also knows I won’t let you out of my sight to see him, or out of my guards’ sights either.”
“He said he wants to give me his side of the story.”
“Which means he wants to end the game.”
Her blood chil ing, she drew into Daemon’s side and cherished his warmth. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
“I guess I always knew it would come to this,” she said, half of her resigned, the other half ready to fight him to the end. “Some part of me said I’d be chasing his shadow until I was old and gray, and he’d come and taunt me on my deathbed. But another part of me said he’d face me when I was the right age, more of a chal enge than when I was a teen.”
“It’s more than just you.”
Tezra looked up at Daemon and saw the darkness in his features.
“He wants to replace me. I’ve learned he’s been stirring up a rebel force for some time. I don’t believe he expected me to take you under my wing, and that’s complicated matters for him a bit, but he’s definitely interested in overthrowing my rule.”
“Because of me?” She’d already triggered so much hurt, the notion she’d caused Daemon more strife…
Daemon kissed her cheek. “Dear Tezra, you are not the reason for Krustalus’s madness.”
“I pushed him over the brink when I threatened him.”
“Like most serial kil ers, he’s a master at deception and manipulation. He could have been your best friend growing up, and you’d never have suspected he’d murdered hundreds of innocents.”
Tezra couldn’t stop the shiver trailing down her spine.
Daemon rubbed her arm and kissed her cold nose, then headed back to the house. “You didn’t make him the monster he is.”
“But if I hadn’t—”
Daemon kissed her mouth and when he let her up for air, he said, “He kil s, Tezra. That’s what he does best. You have to let go of your self-loathing. It’l eat you up inside, leaving nothing but an empty shel . You have so much more to offer, but you’l turn into a ful -fledged renegade if you don’t let go of the hurt.”
“I…” She shook her head. No matter how much she wanted to believe otherwise, she knew Krustalus would never have murdered her parents if she hadn’t taunted him.
Daemon sighed deeply and pressed her tighter against his warm body. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up prematurely, but I don’t believe your threatening him pushed him to kil your parents.”
“Why?”
“It’s not in character.”
She frowned. “Like hel it isn’t. He kil s. It’s a game to him.”
“No. He’s methodical. I believe there was another reason he targeted them.”
“Why?”
“Because you were never a threat to him. You’re not the kind of woman he’s interested in kil ing. He taunts you because it gives him some kind of sick pleasure.”
When they reached the back door of Patrico’s house, a telepathic voice said,
“Return to the warehouse district, sweet Tezra.
You’ll find the answers to your questions there.”
Her heartbeat quickened.
“Where, Krustalus?”
But he didn’t reply.
She squeezed Daemon’s hand. “Krustalus says I’l find the truth in the warehouse district.”
His eyes darkened, then he bowed his head. “So be it.” He yanked open the door to the house and said to Atreides, “Ready fifteen men. We return to the warehouse district. Tezra and I wil take the slower way to get there.”
Atreides’s brows furrowed. “Meaning?”
Daemon said to Patrico, “I need to borrow your car.”
“Car?” Atreides said.
Daemon gave him a hard look, silencing his questions.
“I can manage,” Tezra said.
“We’l drive.” He held out his hand. “Keys, Patrico.”
Patrico yanked them out of his pocket. “I want to go with you also.”
“No, you stay here with Katie and Voltan.” Daemon grabbed the keys Patrico handed him and led Tezra to the door.
She got the distinct impression from the scowling expression on Patrico’s face that he wanted to confront Krustalus as much as he wanted to protect his car, and he did
not
like a vampire tel ing him what to do either.
“We’l meet you there?” Humor edged Atreides’s words.
Daemon ignored him and walked outside to the blue Corvette. His lips lifted.
“You do know how to drive, don’t you?” Tezra said, while Patrico, looking uneasy, hovered in the doorway.
“I’m an ancient.” Daemon opened the car door for her. “I know how to do everything.”
“Right. Being conceited tops the list.”
Once they were in the car, Daemon peeled out of the driveway, and Tezra was certain he gave Patrico a heart attack. At least Daemon nearly gave her one while she clung to the seat. “Jeez, Daemon, who taught you to drive?”
“I said I know how to drive, but I don’t like to go slowly.”
“Slowly? Hel , you’re twenty miles over the speed limit already.”
They barely made a narrow, twisting curve, and Tezra grabbed the dashboard. “Believe me, if you don’t slow down, I’m going to throw up. This is not making me feel any better than vampire transportation.”
Daemon eased around the next curve in the coast road much more slowly, his neck straining with tension. “I move quickly. I don’t like being confined to human limits.”
She managed a brief, albeit hysterical, laugh. “I’l remember that the next time you offer to drive me somewhere.”
With closed eyes, she managed to survive Daemon’s driving though every time he took a curve, the brakes and tires squealing, she clenched her teeth. When he parked the car, she opened her eyes and tried to settle her stomach, but the old feeling of being in Krustalus’s kil ing field snowed her over.
At midmorning, the old red brick warehouses were bustling with activity, and if her stomach would settle she would feel a little less apprehensive about meeting Krustalus. Men were loading and unloading trucks, some were pul ing out with ful loads, and though it was a gray day, at least she could see what they were up against.
Then Atreides contacted Daemon.
“We’re in the warehouse district.”
“We’re parked near the west side of the Storm Tire Company. Meet us here.”
Daemon rubbed Tezra’s shoulder, thinking she looked a little green, but he hadn’t wanted to waste any time delaying their arrival here and hoped she’d feel better soon. He approached three men taking a smoking break while Tezra hung close by his side. “Are any of these warehouses vacant?” he asked.
One of the men shook his head, and the beanpole of a man reminded Daemon of a scarecrow in jeans, checkered shirt, cowboy boots and basebal cap, only he’d lost most of his straw stuffing.
A shorter, stouter man tilted his beak of a nose up and asked, “Why do you want to know?”
Daemon grabbed the man’s throat, not in the mood for games, his canines instantly extending. “Answer the question.”
“Yeah, yeah,” the third man said, his teeth stained yel ow, matching the color of his hair. “Over there!” He pointed to a dark warehouse, absent of any activity, two stories tal . “Never see no one—wel , rarely—go in or out. Me and my buddies figure bloodsuckers…” He paused, his green eyes shifted to Daemon’s canines, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
“Go on,” Daemon growled.
“Vampires own it and drop in whenever they like. They don’t use no front door.”
Daemon released the man, who coughed, holding onto his throat, and backed away.
Atreides and fifteen men appeared, and to Daemon’s surprise, Bernard was with them.
“He wanted to come and protect Tezra. He’s her bodyguard,” Atreides said.
The more backup, the better, Daemon felt.
“Damn right,” Bernard growled, giving Tezra a harsh look.
She took his reaction in stride and motioned to the dark warehouse. “Let’s learn Krustalus’s secrets, shal we?”
Daemon moved her vampirical y to the warehouse, hoping the short distance wouldn’t bother her this time, but he wasn’t wil ing to delay finding out what Krustalus had in mind to share with them. Then he’d final y eliminate the rogue.
Bernard broke the window and after clearing the jagged glass, helped Tezra in, which didn’t sit wel with Daemon. He realized then how much he needed to curb his possessive streak when it came to her. Bernard quickly invited the vampires inside.
Atreides found a light switch and il uminated a building fil ed to the ceiling with crates.
“Over here,” one of Daemon’s men cal ed, having sifted deeper into the warehouse through the maze of crate-bordered paths.
They reached the site of a strange memorial—a woman’s skeletal remains dressed in a police uniform, laid out on a table.
Tezra took a deep breath, trying to settle her raw nerves.
Atreides motioned to the remains. “The reason for the police kil ings a decade ago?”
Fresh yel ow roses sat in crystal vases beside the remains, the scent fil ing the air with a sweet tea fragrance. With a trembling hand, Tezra removed one of the cards tied to the vase.
“To my love, Jane. Krustalus.”
The words were written in the elegant writing of a bygone era. Eyes misting, Tezra looked up at Daemon. “His lover, but apparently he hadn’t turned her.”
“Al the cards read the same,” Atreides said, holding several up for them to see.
Daemon unbuttoned the woman’s police jacket and revealed the bul ets beneath the shattered ribs. “Whatever she was wearing when she was murdered was replaced by a new uniform. Run her badge number by the police and see what name they give.”
“Maison’s on it,” Atreides said.
Tezra crouched next to the table and opened a wooden box. Inside, she found a yel owed newspaper clipping and brought it out. “It’s Jane Cramer. She’s…she’s Chief O’Mal ey’s sister. The police officer who had problems with depression and committed suicide a year after the police kil ings.”
“How much do you want to bet she died before the police kil ings began?” Daemon asked.
Tezra’s eyes widened. “You mean the police kil ed her?”
“If she and Krustalus had a thing going.” Daemon shrugged. “You said her husband is with the force also.”
“He ordered the hit on her? And the chief? Had he known too?” Not in a mil ennium would she have guessed the chief had been involved in his sister’s death. But it made sense. What had Mandy said?
The chief wasn’t the same, not his old jolly self for
months, way before the police officers were killed.
And the business about the police officers and their private meeting in the coffee room that Mandy had witnessed? Now she wondered if the meeting had taken place before they kil ed Jane Cramer or afterwards.
Maison relayed,
“The police department says there’s no record of this badge number. Must be a fake.”
“Speak with the chief,”
Daemon ordered.
“We’ve just learned the woman is his sister. Tell him we know how she died. Find
out if he was involved in the killing or just the cover-up.”
With tenderness, Daemon rebuttoned Jane’s blouse and shook his head.
Tezra found a diary in the box and flipped to the final pages.
William knows about me and Krustalus. He said he wouldn’t allow
it. He said I’d hurt his reputation, his good name. That I didn’t deserve to live after what I’d done. I have to get in touch with
Krustalus, but I haven’t been able to get word to him.
Two days later, the final entry said:
Krustalus has made arrangements to meet me in the warehouse district after my shift
ends Friday night. He insists I have to agree to being changed or he can’t protect me from my husband. He’s certain
William will kill me if we don’t take the next step in our relationship. I love Krustalus more than I have ever loved anyone, but
the idea of becoming a vampire…well, I just can’t see myself as one, and I’m still not sure I can handle what Krustalus
expects of me. I swear he’s ready to get on bended knee and beg if I don’t agree readily enough. I’ve never known anyone
who cares so much about me.