Endless Chase (16 page)

Cocking her head to one side, she listened with her acute hearing. The low scuff of footsteps shuffling against stone was mingled with the sound of a single heartbeat.

Her first instinct was to run, but she fought it. She was well-hidden where she was, and any movement would give away her location.

Was it a member of the Dalakis family? Her heart skipped a beat. Perhaps Chase?

She held her breath and sent her senses soaring. It was late afternoon, but the sun had not yet set. That ruled out any of the Dalakis brothers. Her hopes plummeted when she recognized the person moving around the church. It was the elderly priest, Father Patrescu.

She contemplated staying right where she was until he left, but quickly decided against that course of action. If he was preparing to say the evening Mass, he might not leave at all. As the time of the service got closer, the church would also fill up with people.

No, she was better off brazening it out. She’d slept here. It wasn’t such a big deal.

She hadn’t hurt anything. Still, she felt as if she’d done something wrong. Sighing, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She’d felt more guilt in the past few days than she had in the past year.
Must be the church.

Dust tickled her nose and before she could stop herself, she sneezed. The noise seemed to echo in the rafters and bounce off the walls. Knowing there was no hope for getting away undetected, she hauled herself from beneath the bench.

The elderly priest stared at the pew. When he caught sight of her, his puzzled expression vanished to be replaced by a huge smile. “Welcome, my new friend.”

Katya was once again taken aback by his openness. To cover her awkwardness, she swiped some of the dirt from her clothing. She grabbed her duffel and the rest of her gear and slung it all over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Father.” She motioned to the bench.

“I needed somewhere to stay.”
Somewhere to hide is more like it.

“It does not matter.” He waved away her apology. “Why did you not come to the house? I have a guestroom.”

Stunned silenced followed. It never would have occurred to her in a hundred years to do such a thing. He was a priest, and she was…well, some of the things she’d done this past year didn’t bear repeating.

“I was fine here.” She hitched her belongings higher on her shoulder. “I should be going.” Her boots made no sound on the stone as she moved toward him. He wasn’t a 82

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big man, about her height, older with a shock of white hair. Yet he seemed to block the aisle with his very presence.

“You will join me for tea.” Father Patrescu laid his hand on her arm when she tried to slide past him. She froze in place, unable to just shake him off. “Please,” he added.

“Humor an old man.”

The back of her neck itched and all her instincts were telling her to flee. Couldn’t this man of God tell what she was? She wasn’t fit to be in his presence. “You don’t want me in your home, Father.” Her voice was sharper than she intended.

His shrewd blue eyes narrowed and he nodded. “The path you follow has not been an easy one.”

Katya shook her head. Her burdens were her own to carry. No one had made her choices for her. She’d made each and every one of them knowing they were eating her soul one piece at a time.

“We will talk.” The old man’s grip tightened on her arm.

She yanked it away and glared at him. She could feel the edges of her vision blurring and knew her eyes were tinged red. Her fangs started to extend, reminding her she hadn’t fed in days. “I am a murderer,” she whispered. “An abomination.”

The priest’s eyes widened, but he stood his ground, reaching for her arm once again. “No, my child. If you were truly a cold-blooded killer, you would not be so worried about this old man.”

As simple as that, her anger fled, replaced by a bone-weary fatigue. Acceptance was something she hadn’t had much of in her life. With her papa and mama dead, there was only her brother Sasha and two trusted servants. Even most of the servants were suspicious of her because she was a half-breed. They stayed for love of her papa and Sasha, who was a true vampire, born years after her mama was converted.

“I have to go. There are things I must do.” She could not forget her mission.

“Hmm,” the priest responded. “If I am correct, these things you must do probably have to wait until after dark.” Not waiting for an answer, he continued. “If that is so, then you have time to join me in a cup of tea.” He already had her halfway down the aisle before he paused. “Can you drink tea?”

“Yes,” she wearily replied.

“What about sunlight?”

“I can manage as long as we’re not going far.” She gave up trying to fight him and let him pull her along.

“Good. Good.” Keeping his hand on her arm, he guided her out the front of the church. The sun hit her face and she threw up her hand, digging in her jacket pocket for her sunglasses.

Her senses felt scrambled and before she knew what was happening she found herself across the yard, in the house and ensconced in a comfortable wooden chair in Father Patrescu’s kitchen. The sun was not coming directly in through the window, 83

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which was a relief. The room was small, but light and homey at the same time. The walls were a pale yellow, the cabinets light wood and the floor a worn hardwood, scuffed from many years of wear.

The older man bustled around, filling the teakettle before setting it on the stove to boil. He dug into his cupboard and unearthed some biscuits, piling them on a plate. As she watched, he shuffled over to the tiny refrigerator and pulled out some cheese.

Nodding to himself, he went back to the counter and cut several hunks, adding them to the plate with the biscuits.

He pulled down two cups and saucers, setting them on a tray. The plate with the biscuits and cheese quickly followed. Katya watched, slightly bemused as he added several tea bags to a china pot.

The kettle began to whistle and he removed it from the stove, pouring the hot water into the teapot. He placed the pot on the tray and carried the works to the table.

Belatedly, she jumped to her feet. “Let me help.”

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “I may be old, but I can still carry the tea tray.” Placing the tray on the table, he set everything out in front of her.

Katya’s heart hurt as she noted the china cups, plate and teapot. Her mama would have loved this. She hadn’t realized she’d said the last aloud until Father Patrescu spoke.

“Tell me about your mama.”

“She’s dead.” Her voice was as dull and lifeless as she felt.

He reached out his hand and placed it over hers, which was fisted on the table. “I’m sorry.”

Katya nodded. “Me too.”

“What happened?”

“She and my papa were murdered.” Suspicious by all his questions, she yanked her hand away. “Why haven’t you asked what I am?” Had she walked into a trap? “Why aren’t you afraid of me?” She stood suddenly, knocking her chair to the floor.

She flared out her senses and felt…nothing, only the two of them. Her eyes narrowed. Was Father Patrescu more than he seemed?

The older man picked up the pot and poured two cups of tea. Setting the fragile china pot back on the table, he lifted his mug and had a sip before replacing it on the saucer. “I am too old to be frightened by much, my dear child.”

He motioned to the chair and she reluctantly righted her seat and sat back down.

“What is your name?”

With a start, she realized she’d never told him. She’d slept in his church and somehow ended up in his kitchen with a cup of tea in front of her, telling him about her parents’ murders, but she’d never even told him her name. Her hand trembled slightly as she picked up her mug and sipped cautiously. She’d watched his every move and thought the tea was safe, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

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“No matter,” he continued when she didn’t offer her name. “I haven’t asked what you are because I know. You are a vampire.” Plucking a biscuit from the plate, he took a bite, munching several times before swallowing. “Although, how that can be so when you can go out in the light, I do not know.”

Katya was stunned. The casual way he said it unnerved her. Most people didn’t believe in such things. They were legends—folktales to entertain the uneducated inhabitants of remote corners of the earth. Those who did believe usually feared her kind, or at least had a healthy respect. But Father Patrescu was completely matter-of-fact about it.

“Katya,” she blurted out, feeling slightly petty for not telling him sooner. “My name is Katya.”

He smiled again, making the lines around his eyes crinkle. Dressed all in black, with his shock of white hair, he looked as if he should be a wizard or sorcerer instead of a priest. She still had no idea why he had invited her here, but sensed nothing but sincerity from him.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

Unbelievably, Katya felt her cheeks heating. She couldn’t believe she was blushing.

To hide her discomfort, she went on the attack. “How do you know about vampires?”

“I have lived in these mountains for all of my eighty-two years, child. You are not the first vampire I have come across.”

“The Dalakis family.”

He inclined his head. “It doesn’t take much to notice that Cristofor Dalakis looks exactly the same as he did after the end of the Second World War.” He waved his hand.

“Many believe he is the grandson of that man, of course, but I know better. It is easier for the villagers to believe that the family resemblance is heavy in their lineage. And better economically as well. The Dalakis family puts much money into the local economy.”

“I see.” And she did. Her papa did the same thing in their homeland, going away for several decades at a time and returning as his own descendant.

“But you are different. I have never seen a vampire out in the daytime, even with sunglasses.”

Katya had forgotten she was wearing them. Removing the glasses, she tucked them into her jacket pocket. “I am a half-breed, a hybrid. My mama was pregnant with me when my papa changed her. It affected me as well. I am neither human nor vampire.”

Peering at him, she blurted out her greatest fear. “I am an abomination.”

A look of horror crossed his face. “No, child. No. You are not an abomination.”

Standing, he shuffled around to her chair and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“God made you as you are,” he paused slightly before continuing, “and I like to believe that he knows exactly what he’s doing.”

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Katya snorted when she saw the humor in the priest’s eyes. But behind the humor, she saw the sincerity as well. “I’ve murdered people this past year, Father. Five men.”

“What happened?”

There was no judgment in his tone, no condemnation in his face. Only the desire to know and understand. He reminded her of her papa. Her tale tumbled from her lips.

She told him about the fire, her parents’ death, her younger brother and the dark path she’d been on this past year as she’d tracked the murderer.

“So you see, Father…” She paused and took a deep breath. Katya wished she felt something for these men, anything other than the bone-deep satisfaction of knowing she’d rid the world of these monsters, giving some kind of justice to the people they’d killed. The only other thing she felt was the loss of something vital, deep within her.

The loss of innocence, of self. She’d become as much a killer as the men she’d killed. She consoled herself with the justification that she was on the side of the right and the just.

That rationalization didn’t always help her sleep late at night, but it was something to hang on to. “I killed all five of those men after they told me everything they knew.”

“Good.”

She was shocked by the hard tone of his voice, and the vehemence. Wasn’t he a priest? Shouldn’t he be condemning her for her actions? “Good?”

Father Patrescu ran his hand over the back of her head. “Did you think I would condemn you?” He dropped his hand and returned to his seat, lowering himself slowly to the chair. “I do not condone murder, child, but what you did was to protect yourself.

They would not have let you live and we both know that. It was self-defense.”

To have her own thoughts put into words that plainly lifted some of the weight from her shoulders. “I always believed that.”

“Now you must protect the Dalakis family from this man who would harm them.”

“Yes.” She’d brought this down on them and she would protect them at all costs.

Never mind that the men were older and full vampires. This was her doing and she would see it through to the bitter end.

“Then you must give up your quest for vengeance.”

Katya swung her head up and shook her head. “No.” How could she let her parents’ murderer get away from her?

“Yes,” he said forcefully. “Do you think it is your parents’ wish for you to die or to throw away your life on vengeance? Did they not love you?”

“Of course they loved me.” Pain laced her voice. How could he even suggest they didn’t love her?

“Of course they loved you,” he repeated, nodding slowly. “Then they would want you to take care of your brother and find happiness in your life. Vengeance does not bring happiness.”

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He was right about that. She bit her bottom lip as thoughts of Chase intruded. She’d done a good job keeping them at bay for a short time, but it always came back to Chase.

She loved him—enough to protect him and his family, and then leave him.

“You’re absolutely right, Father.” She took another sip of tea and grimaced. It was cold, and not what she truly needed. She had to make a quick trip to town before she made her way to the castle. She needed to be at peak strength tonight and that meant she needed blood.

The old man stood and came toward her. “You will be careful.”

She nodded. “I will.” She hesitated. “Can I leave my duffel bag here?” She’d take her pack and her crossbow, but the duffel held only clothing.

“Of course. I will keep it safe for you.”