Dark Gold (2 page)

Alexandria bit her lip to hide both her amusement and her overwhelming affection. "Well, until you're a full-fledged card sharp, I'll see to our support. So I'd better get back inside. If you guys get cold, there's a blanket in the trunk." She handed the car keys to Joshua. "Take good care of these. If you lose them, we'll be sleeping out here with Henry."

"Cool!" Joshua replied, his blue eyes dancing.

"Very cool. Cold, in fact," Alexandria warned. "Be careful. I'll be as quick as I can, but this man is not very cooperative. I think he thinks he's might score big tonight." She made a face.

Henry shook a gnarled fist. "He gives you any trouble, you send him my way."

"Thanks, Henry. You two boys behave while I'm working." Alexandria turned and began to make her way back toward the restaurant.

The wind was picking up, blowing the sea toward land, spitting foam through the air. Mist was seeping in, shrouding the trees in melancholy white tails. Alexandria shivered, running her hands up and down her arms. It wasn't really that cold, but the aura of fog and mystery distressed her.

She shook her head to clear away notions of evil lurking behind every tree. For some reason she was especially on edge tonight. She put it down to the enormity of this interview. She had to get this job.

She made her way back through the restaurant, winding through the jungle of potted plants and hanging green vines.

Ivan jumped to his feet to seat her, well aware that he was the envy of the other males in the room. Alexandria Houton just had some special magic that made him think of hot nights and untamed passion.

He ran his fingers over the back of her hand. "You're cold," he said, his voice a little hoarse. She made him feel like a blundering schoolboy, while she remained aloof, slightly haughty, an untouched siren watching him squirm.

"I stepped outside for a moment on my way back from the ladies' room, and the night was so beautiful, I couldn't resist looking at the ocean. It seems to be acting up a bit." Her eyes seemed to hold a thousand secrets, her long lashes locking up every emotion behind them. Thomas swallowed hard and looked away. He had to bring himself under control. He reached deep into his reserve of famous charm and began telling whimsical stories to amuse her, to engage her. Alexandria tried hard to listen to his conversation, but it was difficult to concentrate on his anecdotes about the making of his brilliant career, his many social obligations, and the wearying string of women constantly pursuing him for his money. She was growing increasingly uneasy, so much so that her hands were beginning to tremble. For a moment she felt a shiver of terror, as if icy fingers had wrapped around her throat. The illusion was so real, she actually raised a hand to her neck to check.

"Surely you'll have one small glass of wine. It's an excellent vintage," Thomas insisted, lifting the bottle and drawing her attention back to him.

"No, thank you, I seldom drink." It was the third time she'd told him, and she resisted asking him if he had a problem with his hearing. She was not about to cloud her mind with alcohol when this interview meant so much. And she never drank when she was driving, and never around Joshua. He saw more than enough boozing in the halls and on the sidewalks outside their rooming house.

Alexandria flashed a smile to take the sting out of her refusal. As the waiter cleared away the plates, she very decisively reached for her portfolio.

Ivan sighed audibly. Usually women were fawning over him at this stage. But Alexandria seemed immune to his charm, out of his reach. Still, she intrigued him, and he had to have her. He knew this job was important to her, and he would use that if he had to. He could tell there was fire in her, locked behind her easy smile and cool sapphire eyes, and he was looking forward to enjoying some hot, steamy sex with her.

But the moment Thomas saw her sketches, he forgot about satisfying his ego and his lust. Alexandria had captured the images in his mind better than his own words had done. Excitement caught at him, and he nearly drooled over her exceptional drawings. She was exactly what he needed for his newest game. It was a hot concept, frightening and difficult, and it would blow away the competition. Her fresh, inventive approach was precisely what he needed.

"They're just quick sketches," Alexandria said softly, "without the animation, but I hope you get the idea." She forgot she didn't like Thomas Ivan very much as she watched the appreciative way he looked at her work.

"You have such a gift for detail. Such imagination. Such technique. And, looking at these, I feel as if you've read my mind. You actually capture the feeling of flight here," he said, pointing. He was impressed that she had caught such a stomach-churning sensation with her illustrations alone. What might she do with his vast array of computers and design programs?

Thomas studied one scene, feeling as if it were really happening. It was as if she had taken a photograph of a vampire caught in a brutal battle. It was so real, it was frightening. Her drawings, capturing his story line and the images in his mind so perfectly, so completely instantly created the bond between them that had been eluding him all evening.

Alexandria was suddenly aware of the brush of Thomas Ivan's fingers against hers, aware of the strength in his arms, the width of his shoulders, the handsome angularity of his features. Her heart jumped hopefully. Was she actually responding to someone physically? It was amazing what having a passion in common could generate. She watched with pride as he openly admired her renderings of the creatures of his imagination.

But suddenly a cold draft streamed through the restaurant, bringing with it the taint of evil. It crawled over Alexandria's skin like worms through a body. Revulsion welled up, and she sat back in her chair, pale and trembling. She looked around carefully. No one else seemed to notice the thickening air, the stench of evil. Laughter and the low murmur of conversation surrounded her. Its normalcy should have reassured her, but the trembling only increased. She could feel sweat beading on her forehead, running down the valley between her breasts. Her heart was thumping.

Thomas Ivan was far too busy going through her sketches to notice her uneasiness. He continued to murmer his approval, his head down, his eyes feasting on the richness of her drawings.

But something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Alexandria knew it; she always knew. She had known the very moment her parents died. She knew when a violent crime took place within her vicinity. She knew who was dealing drugs, when someone lied; she just knew things. And right now, while others in the restaurant enjoyed themselves, ate and drank and talked, she knew something evil was nearby, something so malevolent, she had never conceived of such a being.

Her eyes made a slow, careful circuit of the spacious room. Patrons were talking, eating, undisturbed. Three women seated at the table closest to her were laughing outrageously, toasting one another. Alexandria's mouth went dry, her heart pounding. She was unable to move or speak, frozen with terror. On the wall behind Thomas Ivan, a dark shadow crept forward, began to loom over the room, a loathsome apparition seemingly seen by no one else as it reached out, claws extended, toward her, toward the three women talking with such animation. Alexandria sat perfectly still, hearing a horrible whispering in her head like the brush of a bat's wings, issuing an insidious command, buzzing insistently, powerful.

Come to me. Be with me. Let me feast on you. Come to me.

The words beat at her until shards of glass seemed to pierce her skull. The claws on the far wall opened, extended, beckoned her.

A chair scraping to her right broke the spell. Alexandria blinked, and the shadow faded away on the echo of maniacal laughter. She was able to move, to turn her head toward the sound of two more chairs scraping back. She saw the three women rise as one unit, toss money onto the table, and walk in sudden eerie silence toward the entrance.

Alexandria wanted to scream at the women to come back. She had no idea why, but she actually opened her mouth to do so. Her throat closed, and she fought for air.

"Alexandria!" Thomas rose swiftly to help her. She was ashen, tiny beads of perspiration dampening her forehead. "What is it?"

Blindly she tried to shove her drawings into the portfolio, but her hands were shaking, and the sketches spilled across the table and onto the floor. "I'm sorry, Mr. Ivan, I've got to leave." She stood up so abruptly, she nearly sent him sprawling backward. Her mind felt sluggish and thick, as if some oily evil still clung to it, and her stomach rolled.

"You're ill, Alexandria. Let me take you home." Ivan tried to gather up the precious sketches and hold her by the arm at the same time.

Alexandria jerked her arm away, her only thought to get to Joshua immediately. Whatever the evil thing was, whatever creature was stalking the night, those women, Henry, and Joshua were in grave danger. It was outside. Out back. She could feel its presence like a dark stain on her soul.

She turned and ran, uncaring of the curious stares or Thomas Ivan's bewilderment. She tripped on the stairs, caught the hem of her skirt, and heard the rip. Pain and terror sliced through her. Her chest felt as if it had exploded, her heart torn and bleeding. It was so real, she clutched her chest and stared down at her hands, expecting to see blood. No. Someone else's blood. Someone was hurt—or worse.

Alexandria bit her lower lip hard enough to break the skin. That pain was real, and it was only hers. It enabled her to focus, to keep running. Whatever creature was stalking the grounds had made a kill. She could smell the blood now, was experiencing the lingering vibrations, the aftermath of violence. She prayed it wasn't Joshua. Sobbing, she flung herself onto the narrow path winding around the building. She couldn't lose Joshua. Why had she left him alone with only an elderly man to watch out for him?

She became aware of the fog then. Dense. Thick, like soup. It hung in the trees like an eerie white wall. She couldn't see a foot in front of her. It even felt thick, as if she were wading through quicksand. When she tried to pull air into her lungs, she found it nearly impossible. She wanted to scream for Joshua, but some deep intuition kept her silent.

Whoever the madman was, he enjoyed the pain and terror of others. That was his rush, his high. She could not indulge his macabre tastes.

Feeling her way carefully through the trees, she literally stumbled over a body. "Oh, God," she whispered aloud, praying it wasn't her brother. Leaning close, she realized the corpse was far too big. Cold and motionless, he lay in a pathetic heap, tossed aside like so much garbage. "Henry." Grief welled up as she clasped his shoulder to turn him over.

Horror rose when she saw his mangled chest. His heart was literally torn out, exposed and still. Alexandria scrambled away, knelt, and was violently sick. There were ragged wounds on Henry's neck, wounds an animal might make.

Taunting laughter filled her mind. Alexandria wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. This depraved madman was not getting Joshua. Determined, she moved instinctively forward toward the cliffs. Waves crashing loudly against jagged rocks below and the wind rushing through the trees made it impossible to hear anything.

Without sight or hearing, Alexandria moved steadily forward, every instinct drawing her toward the demented killer. She had the impression that he knew she was coming, that he was waiting. She was also certain he believed he was controlling her, deliberately commanding her to come to him.

Despite the strong wind, the fog remained heavy, yet now, through the thickness, she caught glimpses of more horror unfolding. Three women, vaguely familiar from the restaurant, were inching their way toward the cliffs. The women had been at the table to her right; they'd left just before she had. Alexandria could tell they were in some kind of trance, staring rapturously up at the man silhouetted on the cliff sedge.

He was tall and slender but gave an impression of great strength and power. His face was beautiful, like that of an Adonis, his hair shoulder-length and wavy. When he smiled, his teeth were very white.

Like a predator's
. The moment the thought entered her head, the illusion of beauty was gone, and Alexandria saw the blood on the creature's hands. On his teeth and chin.

The welcoming smile was a grimace, exposing vicious fangs. His eyes, on the three women, were black holes glowing a feral red in the darkness.

The women were smiling, simpering, reaching out to him. As they moved closer, he raised a hand and pointed to the ground. Obediently the three dropped to their knees and crawled sensuously forward, writhing and moaning, tearing at their clothing. The fog covered the obscene display for a moment, and when it cleared again she could see that one of the women had reached the man and was winding herself around his knees. She ripped away her blouse, exposing her breasts, touching herself suggestively, rubbing herself against the man's body, begging and pleading for him to take her, use her. A second woman reached the cliff's edge and clung to his waist, staring up provocatively.

Alexandria wanted to turn away from the horror of what was about to befall these human puppets, but she caught sight of Joshua walking slowly toward the man. He didn't seem to notice the women. He looked neither right nor left, just walked forward as if in a dream state.

A trance. A hypnotic trance. Alexandria's heart slammed against her chest. Somehow this killer had hypnotized the women and Joshua. They answered his bidding like mindless sheep. Her brain was trying to analyze how he had accomplished such a feat even as she hurried to intercept Joshua before he could reach the monster. Fortunately, Joshua was moving very slowly, almost as though he was being pulled reluctantly forward.

Although the thick veil of fog hid her, Alexandria felt the impact of those hostile, unearthly eyes as the creature swung his head toward her, his neck undulating like that of a reptile.

As he examined her through the thickness of the fog, bat wings beat at her skull; the shards of glass pierced her over and over. The soft, seductive voice murmured insistently in her head. Alexandria ignored the pain throbbing in her head and focused her attention on reaching Joshua. She would not give this monster the satisfaction of knowing he was hurting her.