Authors: D B Reynolds
"It's clear, my lord."
Raj carried him into the master suite. He considered leaving him on the bed with his lover, but there were too many windows in this room and he couldn't be sure Kent would wake soon enough. He settled for the walk-in closet, tucking the unconscious vampire into the back corner and covering him with a pile of blankets that had obviously been used before. Stepping out of the closet, he closed the door, checked on the sleeping human and led Emelie back out to the hallway. She looked at him, her eyes full of questions, but he shook his head. “Later."
They were out the door and back into the SUV before anyone in the house was aware of their passage. Raj didn't say anything for a long while, trying to remember where he'd run across that power before, the taste of the vampire who'd messed up Kent's head so badly. It wasn't until Em took a turn onto a side road, which wound behind the airport to the warehouse, that he snapped his fingers in sudden recollection. “Trish Cowens,” he said.
"My lord?” Em took her eyes off the road to give him a worried glance.
"The bastard who messed with Kent's mind. It's the same asshole who took Trish Cowens. He's strong enough to conceal his identity, but not strong enough to keep from making a mess doing it. And that sure as hell is not Krystof, even as fucked up as he is lately.” He tapped his fingers on the door panel, thinking. “You and I are going to visit every blood house in the city in the next couple of days. Kent was too screwed up for me to make an identification, but maybe the others won't be. Maybe our man has improved his technique with practice.” He left unsaid the possibility that Kent
was
the improvement and the others would be worse—dangerously worse. He glanced at his watch. Less than two hours ‘til dawn. The houses would already be shutting down, and if he didn't want to sleep at the warehouse, he had to do the same. “We'll start tomorrow night. I'll be at the warehouse after sunset. The others can go ahead, but you're with me."
Emelie's cell rang and he waited while she answered the call, said a few words and hung up. “The additional human staff will be here by morning, my lord. Whom do you want on Sarah?"
"Any women in the bunch?"
"Yossi's here already, so Angel's coming in,” she said.
Yossi was one of Raj's vampires. Angel was his human lover of several decades. “Put Angel and one of the guys on her during the day. I want someone who can stay close if she goes out. I want to know everyone she sees and what they say."
Em gave him a puzzled look as she pulled into the warehouse lot and parked near the door, leaving the engine running. “You think she's up to something?"
Raj frowned. “I don't know. But someone with a grudge against me might think she's important and an easy target."
"So, you think there are more humans involved than just Estelle Edwards?"
"Maybe. I ran into Edward Blackwood last night at a restaurant. He'd love to get his hands on some vamp blood for research, and his institute sure as hell has the money to fund something like that."
"Maybe this other vamp, the one trying to move in, is offering his own blood as the sample,” Em suggested.
"Would that be enough? Dr. Edwards's husband seemed to think she'd need more than one donor."
"Hell if I know, boss. We need someone who knows blood."
"Not just blood, but vampire blood,” Raj said thoughtfully. “Okay, Em, I'm out of here. I'll see you tomorrow."
He didn't waste any time, spinning tires out of the parking lot, heading straight for his lair downtown. There was only one person he knew of who might have answers to his questions and be willing to talk to him. That was Peter Saephan, Raphael's very private human physician. Raj wouldn't even have considered such a thing before his recent meeting with Raphael. But if the Western Vampire Lord was serious about cooperation, this was the perfect opportunity to prove it. Besides, if someone was selling vampire blood, the vampire community worldwide would be affected. Peasants with torches would be nothing compared to the hunt that would ensue if humans found out what vampire blood could do for them.
He checked his watch again. It was still early on the west coast and he might have just enough time for a call before the sun took him.
Buffalo, New York
Sarah stayed in bed late the next morning. She kept her eyes closed, hoping to go back to sleep, but it wasn't happening. Not that she wasn't tired. She hadn't slept well again last night, but it wasn't dreams that kept her awake this time, it was a guilty conscience. And she was beginning to think she preferred the dreams.
The problem was she didn't know exactly what she was feeling guilty about. Was it because she'd stood by while Raj had his vampire way with Jennifer Stewart's head? Or was it because she'd accused Raj of something horrible without any real evidence?
She'd replayed the scene in Jennifer's dorm room over and over in her head, lying there in bed staring at the ceiling all night. And she couldn't help thinking she'd missed something. Something vital.
She sighed. The sun was beaming into her room. Her windows faced east, and only the lower part was shuttered. Normally, she liked that her bedroom was sunny and warm in the morning, especially in winter. Today, it just highlighted the dust on her dresser and reminded her that Raj was beyond her reach. Of course, even if it had been nighttime, he probably wouldn't talk to her. He'd been pretty pissed last night.
On the other hand, Jennifer was eighteen years old and probably slept with her cell phone glued to her ear. Sarah got out of bed and dug her own cell phone out of her purse. A quick check of her call log gave her Jen's number from last night, when she'd called from the Raj's car.
The girl answered immediately with, “Jen.” She certainly sounded chipper enough, Sarah thought.
"Hi, Jen. This is Sarah Stratton. I came to see you last night at the dorm, remember? About Trish?"
"Yeah, sure. Hi, Professor Stratton."
"I had a couple more questions for you. Could I meet you later today?"
"I guess. I'm kind of working, though. I have a kiddy lit paper that's like thirty percent of my grade due the day we come back from break. What kind of a moron makes a paper due on the day after spring break?” she groused, and then seemed to remember whom she was talking to. “Anyway,” she mumbled. “I have a couple hours. My brother's picking me up later to go up to my parents’ house. I guess I could meet you."
Sarah ignored the lack of enthusiasm and said, “Great. Are you in your room?"
"Right,” Jen said, laughing in a way that told Sarah she'd asked a stupid question. “Like anyone could study in that place today! It's like a tomb. No. I'm over at the Union. I guess I could do a food break or something, in like maybe an hour?"
"Okay,” Sarah agreed, suddenly feeling ancient and out of touch. “I'll meet you by the front doors."
"Will Raj be with you?” Jen asked with a sudden burst of enthusiasm.
"Um, no, Jen, he's—"
"Oh, duh! Vampire.” She laughed. “Okay, look I gotta go."
"Wait, how do you know—” But Jen was already long gone.
"Of course I knew he was a vampire!” Jen was looking at Sarah like she'd lost her mind. “Gorgeous guy, spooky eyes, talks in my head. What else would he be?"
Sarah glanced around the crowded dining room, but no one was paying attention, or at least no one who thought it was odd to talk about vampires. “I don't know,” she said. “I just thought—"
"You need to expand your horizons, Professor Stratton. That's what my lit teacher said last week. ‘Expand your horizons.’ Of course I don't think he meant vampire lit, but, hey, to each his own, right? Isn't that like Shakespeare or something?"
"Um, no, that was Cicero. So you don't think he, I don't know, took advantage of you last night?"
Jen gaped at her, seemed to realize what she was doing and shut her mouth, checking around quickly, before saying, “Raj was like the sweetest guy I've ever met. And come on, Professor Stratton, even
you
must have noticed he's a total babe. I wish my last boyfriend had been half as nice. All he wanted was—"
"Okay.” Sarah held up her hand. She wasn't really interested in hearing what Jen's last boyfriend had wanted. “That's great. I'm going to go now. I just wanted to make sure you were all right."
"Sure,” Jen said, seeming puzzled. “Why wouldn't I be?” Her face brightened. “Listen, if you see Raj tell him ‘hi’ for me, okay? And tell him—"
"I'll tell him,” Sarah said quickly, standing up. “Thanks, Jen. If we need anything else, I'll call."
"Or Raj could call,” Jen called after her as Sarah hurried from the dining room. “I'm up really late every night."
Sarah was not only exhausted, but depressed by the time she got home from meeting Jen. Her first reaction had been relief that the girl was all right, but as she drove home, all she could think about were the things she'd said to Raj the previous night before storming off. She remembered the look on his face, his disbelief that she would accuse him of rape, and then his look of betrayal as the meaning of her words sank in. What an idiot she'd been. What a total moron. And still he'd waited until the stupid cab arrived and she was on her way before leaving the parking lot himself. She closed her eyes against a wave of regret. What had she done?
She parked in front of her house and dragged herself up the front stairs, wondering if she should call Raj and apologize. It was still daylight, which meant she wouldn't have to risk having him hang up on her. She could just leave a message on his voice mail and slink back into her corner of guilt. But, maybe he wouldn't even listen to it, maybe he'd hear her voice and hit delete, which was no more than she deserved.
Damnit.
She unlocked her front door, grateful that Mrs. M. was over at her son's house today and not waiting to pounce with another Tupperware container. Her cell rang as she was pushing the door open and she dropped her purse on the floor, fumbling her keys as she patted her pockets looking for the phone. She grabbed it on the fourth ring, just before it would have gone to voice mail.
"Hello,” she said, somewhat breathlessly.
"Sarah Stratton?"
She grew still, listening hard. The voice was familiar, but . . . “Yes,” she said cautiously.
"This is Edward Blackwood. I believe we met, in a manner of speaking, the other night. You were having dinner with the vampire, Raymond Gregor."
"Oh.” Her lungs strained to produce enough air for that one syllable, to keep breathing in and out. She sank down on the stairs, heedless of her purse sitting on the floor by the still open front door.
"Of course, we weren't properly introduced,” Blackwood was saying. “But I was speaking to that police detective, Mr. Scavetti, and he mentioned your name."
"I see."
"I thought perhaps we could have lunch, Ms. Stratton."
She could feel her heart laboring in her chest, but there didn't seem to be any blood going to her brain. Had there been something snide about the way he said her name? Or was she hearing things that weren't there because she was so terrified?
"That's very kind,” she managed to say, “but I'm afraid I'm rather busy right now, what with exams and my own research. I couldn't possibly—"
"I was under the impression you were working with the vampire on the Cowens case."
Sarah put her head between her legs, forcing the blood to rush back to her brain so she could think. It made breathing more difficult, but she would have fainted otherwise.
"Are you all right?” Blackwood's oily voice was full of concern.
"Yes,” she all but gasped. “Yes, I'm sorry. You caught me in the middle of my exercise routine; I'm a bit out of breath is all."
"Ah. I am sorry to interrupt. We at the Institute believe firmly in a healthful exercise regimen. I myself work out with a trainer regularly, although I do have a weakness for fine food.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh that was as phony as every other word he'd uttered since she had stupidly answered the phone without checking her caller ID. Not that it would have mattered. Blackwood was a persistent man. She remembered that much.
"Shall we have lunch tomorrow?” he said, proving the accuracy of her impression.
"Forgive my bluntness, but why, exactly, do you want to have lunch with me?” Sarah asked, reminding herself yet again that she was no longer a scared teenager. She was a grown woman and if she didn't want to have lunch with someone she didn't have to.
"Well, as you may know, I'm helping my friend William—that is Patricia's father—get through this terrible experience. And as you seemed to have information—"
"Mr. Gregor is a friend, Mr. Blackwood. We were having dinner, nothing more. I don't know why you would think—"
"Come now, Susan, there's no need for that with me."
Sarah's heart jumped so hard, it jolted her into the sharp ridge of stair behind her back. “Pardon me?” she whispered.
"You hair is somewhat darker and, of course, it's been over ten years, but, if I may say so, you've grown into a lovely woman, Susan.” He repeated her name with emphasis.
"Don't call me that,” she managed to say with some conviction.
"Of course,” he said smoothly. “I certainly understand your desire for privacy. The tabloid press has always been intrusive, but now with the Internet scattering images around the world in only moments, they've gotten quite out of hand."
Sarah found her anger. “Is that a threat, Mr. Blackwood?"
"I'm offended you would think so,” he protested, but he didn't put any real effort into it. “My only purpose in contacting you is to help a dear friend save his daughter before it's too late.” He paused for calculated effect. “It isn't too late, is it, dear? I mean why else—"
Sarah closed her eyes, feeling the weight of inevitable destiny bearing down on her. “What is it you want?” she asked dully.
"A simple meeting. A pleasant lunch perhaps between old friends."
We're not friends
, she thought viciously, but only to herself. Blackwood would be a formidable enemy, and she had little or no defense against the kind of campaign he could wage against her. “When?” she asked.