Authors: Ginger Voight
His eyes opened.
“What you will know. If you drink the tea.”
She let out a frustrated sigh before throwing her things aside and grabbing a cup. She went to pour the tea but his fingers curled around her arm like a claw.
“Not too much,” he warned. “You’re not ready.”
She poured a tiny bit which seemed to satisfy him. He leaned back in his former position. Gingerly Adele sipped the pungent tea
that tasted strongly of dirt… so much so it nearly made her vomit. If she had taken more than just a sip, that was exactly what she would have done.
She took deep breaths, unconsciously matching the behavior of the odd man who sat across from her.
He simply nodded at her and waited.
Within a few minutes her vision began to warp and blur as the room around her seemed to vibrate. Before she could freak out by the psychedelic reaction she was experiencing,
fragmented images from the past few weeks sped before her mind’s eye in fast forward, mixing fantasy with reality. First she was in the forest with Lily. Just as she descended on her with fangs bared, the little girl morphed into Dani. The next vision had her dancing with Nicholas at Gerard’s. When he bent to kiss her, his face morphed into Michael’s right as their lips met. Then she was in the alley with the Creature hovering over her where she lay unconscious in the street. As he opened his cloak to envelop her, her face turned into her mother’s. The last image was Isabel Rocha, on her knees in the dark soil of the forest, her eyes white with terror and a sword slicing easily through her neck, sending her head swiveling toward the ground.
When it hit the hard earth, she turned into Vincent.
Violently Adele wrenched herself out of the hallucination. Vincent was watching her as she came back. “Who are you?” she demanded. “What are you?”
“
The same as you,” he whispered.
“
And what is that? What is it with you bloody con artists and your endless riddles? Tell me!”
“
Did you read the books?”
“I read one book,” she spat out. "The book with my photos and the photos of my family. Want to tell me what
the hell you are doing with them?”
“I told you,” he
said, much too calmly for Adele’s liking, “I’ll tell you everything when you read the books.”
Her head was still spinning from his funky tea. For all she knew this was just another part f the hallucination, and he was just toying with her to make her squirm.
“To hell with the books!” she exploded. It was painfully clear she was wasting her time with this infuriating man. Whatever information he shared with Denise he clearly wasn’t going to share with her. She’d have to find another way. There had to be another way. “And to hell with you.”
She grabbed her coat
and jumped to her feet. Before she could exit the small room, Vincent’s voice halted her. “Adele.”
Reluctantly she turned back to face him, her chin tipped defiantly.
“Whether you realize it or not, your heart has already decided you can trust me. Listen to your instincts. They will never steer you wrong.”
He looked so sincere that she actually wanted to believe him. “How can I trust you?” she asked. “When you refuse to trust me?”
She turned and slammed out of the store, followed unbeknownst by Roman, who closed a notebook as she left.
Without even thinking about it, Adele’s feet led her directly
to the Church of the Holy Sacrament. Now that rationality had deserted her, she had no choice but to step out on faith. And there was only one person on the planet that could help her do just that. “Michael!” she hollered.
Her
voice echoed off of the walls. No one answered, not even the stinking voices in her head. All she heard was all she felt: empty, hollow nothingness. It was the first time since she was ten that it felt so acute.
Michael had always been there to buffer it before. No matter what she did to push him away, no matter what she
’d done to hurt him, and she knew damn well that she had, repeatedly, he had always been there. He completed her life and filled a hole in her world. Now that hole was torn anew and she felt bitterly and utterly alone.
Sadder still, she had done it to herself. Michael hadn
’t betrayed their friendship. She had. Nothing could hurt worse. In a weak, defeated voice she finally said the words she should have said days ago. “I’m sorry.”
Just as she turned to leave she heard,
“That's the first time I’ve ever seen you repent in a church.”
She turned back to see Michael. There were tears in his eyes as the
y stood just a few feet apart, so close and yet so far. Words hung in the air that neither of them could muster. Ultimately, words were not needed. When he opened his arms she flew into his embrace, shedding a few tears of her own. She never knew how much she missed him until she held him again. He was her rock. Always had been. Always would be. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered into his neck. “I was so stupid.”
“I know. I graded your high school history exam, remember?”
With a snort her sobs turned into laughter. She gave him a smile through her tears. “You always could make me laugh.”
He shrugged.
“A guy’s got to have a hobby.”
She touched his face with the palm of
her hand. “Michael, I’m sorry for all the horrible things I said...”
He cut her off.
“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, Addie. I’m the one who should apologize, for not being there when you found out so many years ago. I could have helped you.”
She shook her head.
“No one could have helped, Michael. But having you for a friend made things a whole lot better than they would have been.”
He nodded. It always came back to that. Only this time, he knew that it was the best gift of all. He knew now beyond all doubt he couldn
’t lose her again. He’d rather die first.
“That was why I could never tell you,” she said softly. “I thought if you knew the truth about who I was, it’d ultimately drive you away.”
He took her hands in his and made her look him in the eye. “Hey. I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. “Ever. Got it?”
She nodded. “Got it.” They both smiled and shared another hug.
And just like that, they were back.
She apprised him of the situation as they made their way to
Isabel’s parlor. It was locked up tight when they got there, and no amount of knocking would bring any life to the deathly still place. She wanted to break in, but Michael convinced her not to. He was still a priest, after all, and he was sure the church wouldn’t look too kindly on a breaking and entering charge.
They finally gave up and headed to their favorite haunt, the local diner. The food was greasy and held no nutritional value, and the coffee was so strong it could serve itself. It was exactly
Adele’s kind of place.
She was on her second cup by the time she finally told Michael about the second and
final time she met with Isabel.
“
And what was the word?” Michael asked.
“
I don’t remember,” Adele mumbled. “It was a strange word. A foreign word. I wouldn’t even know how to spell it.”
“
Are you sure it didn’t start with a V?” She gave him a look. He sighed. “I saw Lily, Addie. But it wasn’t Lily anymore.”
“
I saw her, too,” Adele admitted. “Or an incredible facsimile.” She hesitated a moment. “I also saw Dani’s neck. The wounds are gone. And I know that’s because of you.”
He shrugged.
“I threw some holy water on it. It seemed like the thing to do.”
“
So what do we do now? How do we fight this if it really is… you know?”
“
You’re the one reading the books. According to your friend Vincent, the answers are in there.”
She shook her head.
“I don’t know if he’s my friend, Michael. There’s something very odd about him.”
“
Scary odd?” Michael asked and after a moment she shook her head again.
“
It’s stupid but I don’t think he’s the dangerous one. Just infuriatingly unhelpful.”
“You said he has our photos, though. That’s creepy on a good day, but downright terrifying when there’s a serial killer on the loose.”
“It may sound silly but… I get the feeling he’s here to protect us, not harm us. A serial killer would likely keep photos of trophies or targets. We don’t feel the victim demographic.” She sighed. “I don’t know if we’ll ever find the answers, Michael.”
“
We’ll find them,” he assured her, taking her hand into his. “Together.”
She
was still smiling to herself when she made her way back home, only to find Nicholas on her doorstep. Everything else seemed to melt away when she looked into his eyes. It was like coming home.
He found some soothing classical music on the radio and t
hey snuggled together on the couch as they listened. It reminded her of her dream brought about by his magical tea. Softly she began to tell him about it, watching his hand link together with hers as she spoke of a beautiful engagement ball from a time long ago. He held her close and she got lost in his eyes. “It sounds beautiful,” he whispered.
“It was,” she agreed. Her gaze drifted to his full mouth, close enough to kiss her for real. “But this is better,” she confessed. Slowly his head bent towards hers and his warm, full mouth covered hers. She tingled all the way to her toes as his tongue penetrated her lips.
Their hearts beat as one, thundering in her ears as he kissed her passionately and possessively. She didn’t protest as he laid her gently against the cushions.
His
fingers danced lightly over her skin, his lips gentle and moist against the nape of her neck. His breath was hot against her ear, which chipped away at her inhibitions a little bit more. She started to unbutton his shirt but he captured her hand and moved it. He kissed away any questions or protests so she simply wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer into her chest.
His mouth
traveled along the bared skin of her shoulder where her shirt had slipped away. He lifted up to lean on one elbow, silently questioning her if this was what she wanted. She understood the question and began to unbutton her own shirt in answer.
His eyes clouded over as she bared herself to him. His large hand spread over her ivory skin as it slid from her supple tummy toward her full breasts, still modestly covered by the lacy bra she wore. “I dream of you,” he confessed in a whisper.
“We’re not dreaming now,” she pointed out as his hands released her from her undergarment so that he could cup her breast possessively.
“We’re not?” he queried softly as he bent to cover the erect nipple with his hot mouth. She gasped as his tongue danced across her aching flesh. Her back arched toward him and her fingers wound themselves in his dark hair.
At the strident sound of her ringtone, they both jumped apart like two guilty teenagers caught doing something they shouldn’t have been doing. She grabbed the phone. “Yeah, Brian, what’s up?” The color drained away from her face. “What?” She threw the phone down and reached for the remote control, hidden underneath one of the vampire books. Adele flipped the TV on, right to breaking news with Denise Carter.
“Tonight a local family
’s tragedy is compounded as the body of Isabel Rocha has been recovered from the woods just outside of Darlington.” Behind Denise a covered gurney was wheeled from the darkened forest.
When Nicholas touched her shoulder she jumped, having totally forgotten he was there
despite the heated embrace they had enjoyed just moments before. It was almost as if whenever she was with him she was in a world completely different from her own. It was a world where there was passion and romance and comfort, which masked the horrors of her nightmarish day job. Now their realities were colliding in a most unsettling way. “More blood on your land,” she said.
Denise continued her report.
“Police have not yet released any details but our sources here at Channel Five news say that a suspect has been taken into custody.”
Adele fixed her shirt and grabbed her purse. “I gotta go,” she told Nicholas, without even sparing him a glance. He was immediately on his feet. “Let me drive you.”
She just shook her head and left before he could stop her.
She headed straight for the police department. Roman wasn
’t taking any questions from the press, but Adele didn’t let that stop her as she pressed forward right into his private office.
Other officers attempted to hold her back but Roman indicated they could leave them alone. Once they departed Adele lit into Roman.
“Isabel Rocha…was she beheaded?”
“Why do you ask?” Rom
an queried, turning the tables.
“Don
’t toy with me, Roman. Now isn’t the time.”
He simply opened his desk drawer and pulled out the vampire book from her office.
“This was interesting reading,” he said, pushing the book across the desk to her. “More interesting was finding Vincent Capriotti at the end of it.”