My Immortal (22 page)

When Adele finally told the courts that she wanted custody of her, Dani
couldn’t have been happier. The months that followed Adele fought as ferociously for custody as she fought for any story. It was the fight of her life, she said more than once. And Adele was confident that the courts would agree that placing Dani into her permanent care was the best thing for her. No one could understand Dani like Adele, or appreciate the special challenges her life would bring to any parent.

Neither one of them could have been prepared for the Child Protective Services worker to give testimony against
Adele’s adoption request. Both looked shell-shocked as the evidence of Adele’s suicide attempt and subsequent psychiatric hospital stay were dropped like bombs in the courtroom. When the judge rendered his verdict, he was compassionate but clear. He could not, in good conscience, put an emotionally damaged girl like Dani into the custody of a woman who clearly had severe emotional problems of her own.

Dani wailed a haunting,
“No!” into the courtroom. It echoed against every wall and bounced off every desk and chair. The CPS worker had to drag Dani kicking and screaming from her seat beside Adele, who was so devastated she could barely speak. Michael pleaded to the worker that she give Adele and Dani at least one moment to say goodbye. She finally relented, and Adele produced a gift bag she had saved for the day the courts would let Dani come home. In that moment Adele understood that day would never come.

The pink teddy bear Dani pulled from that bag had been her constant companion ever since. The courts may not have seen things the same way, but Dani was convinced that families of the heart were much stronger than families on paper.

She was lucky; she got to choose her mother.

And there her mother lay, so sick and
so fragile. It broke Dani’s heart.

Why did she always have to lose the ones she loved?
First Adam, now Adele. Just when she got on her feet, life wanted to pull the rug out from under her all over again.

What had she done that God hated her so much?

Dani’s mind returned to the night of her own attack. She was fortunate that she survived, unlike those other poor kids who were killed. But the devil had come to claim her, no one could tell her any different.

There was no one that could convince he
r now the bogeyman wasn’t real. She’d seen him, up close and personal. Every time she closed her eyes she could still see him. She could feel his breath on her neck. She could feel the sharp teeth digging into her flesh.

Dani stood on wobbly legs to get closer to Adele. Her fingers brushed the hair away from
Adele’s neck but there was no injury there. Dani understood far too well for someone so young that the injuries Adele endured were inside and not outside. Dani heaved a sigh as she gazed into Adele’s still face.

Something in the corner of the room caught her eye. It was
a pile of Adele’s belongings, and under the clothing poked the edge of a black book. Dani made her way over there and pulled the book out slowly.

“
Vampires, The Mythos and the Reality
,” she whispered, and then gasped.

“
Michael?” Adele murmured. Dani darted back over to the wheelchair and hid the book under the blanket she used to wrap around her bare legs.

“
No, it’s me. Dani.” She went immediately to Adele’s side.

Adele gave her a groggy smile.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed, young lady,” she tried to scold, but it was clear she was thrilled to see the young girl.

“
I brought you something,” Dani whispered. She grabbed the pink teddy bear from her wheelchair. “I thought it could help you sleep.”

Tears slid from
Adele’s eyes as she accepted the bear. She opened her arms to Dani. “I’d rather have you.”

Dani crawled into bed next to Adele and hugged her tight. Both of them
ached for what they wanted with all their hearts, but what they still couldn’t have.

As night fell Roman Piccoli went through his file on the Darlington Child Killer for the hundredth time. He pored over the photos and the reports. He slammed his fist on the desk with a muttered curse. How could things have gone so wrong?

The one suspect they had was MIA, and their search of his store and loft had come up totally empty. Their one witness was also MIA. All he had was Adele, a woman with a history of hallucinations who was convinced vampires were on the loose. Even then she
wouldn’t talk to him, which left him a plastic bag with a bloody handkerchief.

Roman made his way to the research lab where a tech worked hard on their one and only piece of evidence.
“What’s the verdict?” he asked.

“
I don’t know why anyone would use this for a bandage,” the tech said. “It has to be at least two hundred years old. You see this?” He offered the handkerchief for Roman’s inspection. “That’s a family crest.”

It was a unique handkerchief, to be certain. Roman held it closer then flipped it over. There, in very small stitc
hing was a distinct “N”and “S.”

He was immediately on his cell phone.
“It’s Roman,” he barked into the headset. “Find out everything you can on Nicholas Sterling. Call me on my cell.” He snapped the phone shut. He put the handkerchief back into the bag and stuffed it into his pocket. “I think it’s time I paid Nicholas Sterling a visit.”

Back at the hospital Adele moaned in her sleep as she twitched from side to side. In her dream she actually got up from the hospital bed and slipped
easily from the tubes she was attached to. Her feet didn’t even touch the floor as she floated from the room, out the window and down the street toward the police department.

The wind pushed her along until she stalled just yards away from the entrance. It was there she
saw Roman bound down the steps toward his car. She tried to call his name, but the words were caught in her throat. All that came out was a strangled whisper.

Along the other side of the street a mist wound around the corner and straight toward Roman. Adele tried to scream again, but felt as though she we
re drowning and unable to breathe.

As if sensing someone nearby, Roman
turned around. His hand went immediately to his gun holster. “Who’s there?” he called out.

His question was met with a cackling evil laugh as the mist transformed
and solidified into a tall, dark figure in a black hooded cloak, walking straight toward Roman.

Roman brandished his gun.
“Stop right there,” he called. Try as she might Adele could not move from where she stood. Her feet felt as though they were cemented to the ground. “Roman!” she tried again, but still no sound came out.

The hooded figure drew closer.
“Stop or I’ll shoot!” Roman commanded, but the relentless figure advanced undaunted.

The loud sound of gunfire exploded into the air. Roman took several shots directly into the hooded man,
first aiming at his legs, then finally dead center in his chest. The creature kept on going and did not stop until he was an inch away from Roman, who was staring helplessly hypnotized by the ancient man with the bright yellow eyes.

She watched helplessly as the figure overtook Roman, opening his cloak and surrounding the stronger, younger man with ease. She could hear
Roman’s cry of pain and the sounds of teeth tearing through flesh from where she stood.

“
No!” she screamed and pulled with all her might, finally set free from her dream state's restraints. She flew right toward the black figure, screeching all the way. Her fists pummeled against his back. “You let him go!”

He turned to face her, blood dripping from his skeletal chin. Roman collapsed in a heap on the ground. The creature stood back and waved a hand toward the dying man.
“If you love him, you will do it,” he said.

Adele’s
head bent back as she yowled in anguish, her own fangs bared and her eyes glowing yellow.

Adele woke from her dream with a start, sitting straight up in bed, her scream filling the room. She was no longer strapped to any tubes, just weak as hell. But she
couldn’t let that stop her now. She knew what she had to do.

She had to find Vincent. Together, they could end this.

The nurses and the doctors all advised her against leaving, but it was clear there was no stopping her. And since her condition wasn’t serious, there was little they could do. Her brother needed her, and she was going to be there for him.

In order to find Vincent she had to confront her mother. Adele
wasn’t looking forward to it; her mother was loath to talk about the events around the night Adele was conceived. Adele had never pushed before, but it had never been this important before.

And her mother had left out one very important detail. A boy child had also been born but taken away.

Adele tried to be understanding, but could not wrap her mind around the concept of giving away one child and keeping another. Why would she get rid of the son but keep the daughter?

Was the son the image of the man who raped her? Adele could clearly see
Vincent’s face in her mind's eye. There were no similarities to the creature she’d observed attacking Dani or now Roman. But she didn’t see herself in that man either, despite the way her mind had turned on her and reminded her of a past, best forgotten life.

Adele tried to wrap her mind around the insanity of it all.
For a hard core agnostic, contemplating she could have even had a past life was a huge leap. This was not Adele. And now, perhaps she knew why. Why would anyone want to believe they used to hunt and feed on human flesh? The thought turned her blood to ice.

Why would he bring her back
, especially since Dhampirs were born hunters meant to destroy him? If Vincent was to be trusted, that is.

She flashed back to that moment she looked into his eyes and saw her mother giving birth to him. She knew he was.
The red string between them had stretched for a quarter of a century, but had never broken. Now he had returned and their bond, developed in the womb, was stronger than ever.

S
he’d never had that much of an instant connection with anyone, except maybe Nicholas. But she couldn’t think about that now. Flights of romantic fancy would just have to wait. The moment of truth was at hand.

And she had no idea how to broach the subject with her mother.

Brenda threw her arms around Adele once she opened the door. “I told you that you should have gotten that cut looked at. When are you going to listen to your mother?”

Adele accepted the reproach with dutiful chagrin.
“You were right. I was wrong. Next time I’ll go see a doctor even if it’s a paper cut.”

Brenda scowled at her daughter.
“Stop being facetious.” Brenda pulled her into the house, and Adele could have sworn that she looked both ways before closing the door again.

Brenda sat her down on the sofa, plumping pillows and arranging a throw over her legs, which Brenda pulled up outstretched onto the sofa.
“Ma, I’m fine,” Adele insisted.

Brenda dropped with a sigh onto the other edge of the sofa.
“I’m sorry, Adele. I just really don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

Just as Adele was about to speak, Brenda shot back up again.
“Would you like some hot cocoa?” she asked. “It’s terribly cold outside. The wind is just terrible.”

Before she could confirm or deny the request, Brenda was out of the room again, calling to her from the kitchen.
“I heard about your friend, the Police Commissioner,” she said. “I hope he’s okay.”

“
Me too,” Adele said under her breath.

Shortly Brenda returned with two steaming hot cups, one overflowing with marshmal
lows, just like Adele liked it.

After a few awkward moments Adele said,
“They have a suspect finally.”

Brenda waved her hand away.
“I don’t want to discuss that now. We’ve had enough unpleasantness for one day.”

Brenda smiled and patted Adele on the leg, then returned to her cocoa. Ad
ele, however, was not deterred.

“
Ma, I think it’s time we discussed some things.”

Brenda gulped down the cocoa, and placed the cup on a coaster on the table.
“Like what, dear?” she asked, not meeting Adele in the eye.

“
About the night I was conceived.”

Brenda hopped up.
“All that needed to be discussed was discussed years ago,” Brenda dismissed as she rearranged some of the wooden sculptures she had lining several bookshelves.

“
I don’t think so,” Adele insisted. “Because I still have questions.”

Brenda turned her back to Adele, holding onto the bookshelves for support.
“What kind of questions?” she finally eked out.

Adele gulped and pressed forward.
“I want to know about the man who fathered me. What you remember about him, like details about his face or his hair or his eyes…”