Kismet Knight, Vampire Psychologist 3 - Dark Harvest (27 page)

“Look at Hallow,” she demanded.

Everything slowed. My eyes watered and my vision fuzzed. The pain in my head hammered relentlessly, pressing with such intensity against the bones of my skull, I knew I couldn’t possibly survive. I must be dying. This had to be death. Victoria’s voice seemed far away.

“Kismet! Look at Hallow!”

She grabbed the sides of my face and turned it toward the two vampires fighting.

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Hallow and Devereux floated in the air, mouths yawning, fangs displayed menacingly, covered with blood from the gashes and lacerations crisscrossing their bodies. For a second I thought Devereux had embedded his powerful fingers into the skin of Hallow’s neck, but then—like switching channels—Hallow, the beautiful man I’d momentarily desired, faded from my sight, and something unbelievable appeared.

Devereux levitated inside a massive, energy field filled with thousands of skeletal shapes, all slithering around and through each other like bony serpents, each with huge, bulging eyes. It looked like a loathsome, vast amniotic sac—the fluid thick, nebulous, and toxic—containing the partially formed embryos of a demonic breeder. Or the undigested remains in the distended stomach of a psychic cannibal.

He didn’t seem to notice anything was out of the ordinary as his grasping hands floated in a thick, dark, bloody liquid, which made up an inner layer surrounding an emaciated, contorted, charred-black thing in the center.

My attention had been so transfixed by Hallow’s grotesque form, it took me a few seconds to notice that Devereux appeared the same as he always did. Maybe his skin was whiter—more corpse-like—but I couldn’t see any other changes.

So, why did Hallow appear to be such an impalpable monstrosity?

Without having a face that I could make sense of, the soulless creature in the holographic nightmare seemed to glare at me.

I screamed, the torment in my head building to a crescendo. Suddenly, as if I were watching several movies simultaneously, each featuring a specific part of me—my scattered sub-personalities—the pictures sped up. The volume cranked. I was about to scream again, waiting for my head to burst into flames, when it all … stopped.

Standing alone on the center stage of my inner world, the part I’ve spent most of my life considering

“me” waited, eyes closed. Like metaphorical ghosts, aspects who’d splintered off during Hallow’s takeover of my mind, merged back into the physical form of the main personality. My psychic skin stretched to accommodate the gossamer reintegration.

Lust sauntered over slowly and shrugged. “I’m stronger now. You can’t sweep me under the carpet.

Everything is different.”

I nodded as she melted into me. All my puzzle pieces locked into place.

Heat rushed through my body. Feeling as if I’d been hit by a truck and the breath forcefully knocked out of me, I reeled, still leaning against Victoria.

She shook me and yelled again,
“Aspicio! Excito!”

At her words, something snapped inside of me. The repressed rage of a lifetime splashed over the crumbling metaphorical dam in my psyche and pulled me under. I was suddenly drowning in anger. So lost in outrage I could barely catch my breath. My fists clenched as I thought about all the risks I hadn’t taken in the name of being somebody else’s idea of a good girl. The perfect rule-follower. My mouth went dry with the fury of truths unspoken—feelings swallowed. My body shook with the wrath of
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allowing myself to be bullied and dominated my whole life. I’d become so disempowered—so afraid of my own wisdom—that retreating into my intellect seemed the only safe place. The bitterness rose in my throat like fiery magma, swelling hot and relentless toward eruption.

An unknown darkness had awakened inside me.

“Yes, that’s it,” Victoria whispered in my ear. “Feel his blood in your veins. Let his evil fuel your resurrection. Turn it against him.”

I opened my eyes in time to see Hallow—his form flipping back and forth between being the beautiful demon and the metaphysical cancer—reaching for me. He’d somehow momentarily stunned Devereux and rushed over to retrieve me.

He yanked me to my feet and against his body—which was only humanoid for a few seconds before the illusion gave way to the grisly aura it had been superimposed on. I fought against him, jabbing my elbows into his gut, enjoying his grunts of irritation.

Victoria struggled to a standing position. She thrust her bruised arm into the air, fist closed, and screamed,
“Expugno!”

The hairs at the back of my neck prickled, and chills rippled over my skin. I didn’t know what she’d said, but the mere word seemed to ruffle the airwaves.

Now that I could see exactly how monstrous Hallow was, my stomach turned and my skin went clammy. I had to remind myself to breathe while he pressed me against him. I closed my eyes and cringed as I thought about what I was really immersed in. My intuitive radar was wide open, sensing every foul nuance of his alien nature, and he felt sickeningly obscene.

“Enough of this nonsense.” He grabbed my hair, tugged my head back, and exposed my neck. He began repeating the same phrase, over and over, in his enticing, mesmerizing voice. “Do you choose me? Do you choose me? Do you choose me?”

I felt myself becoming drowsy, my knees softening. The edge of my anger dulled. I opened my eyes and several hundred pairs stared back at me from Hallow’s incorporeal death camp. I screamed, my rage rebounding, and forced out the words, “No! No! I don’t choose you. Let me go!”

Devereux, whose leather pants were torn and flapping around his knees, tackled Hallow, sending them both back to the ground again. It seemed like they’d been fighting for hours, but time had ceased having any meaning.

My body shook. Even if I hadn’t been quaking with anger, being nude in the below-freezing temperatures would have taken its toll.

The vampires struggled, switching positions every few seconds as one gained dominance over the other.

As Hallow straddled Devereux’s ribs, his sharp fingernails gouging out flesh from Devereux’s neck, his voice rang out, “I’ve changed my mind, laddie. You’ve been a worthy adversary, but you’re much more trouble than you’re worth. Time to put an end to this.” Hallow slid his hand across the floor, picked up one of the stakes that had restrained Victoria, and raised it over Devereux’s heart, preparing to strike.

Devereux’s vampires flocked to him, obviously concerned about the placement of Hallow’s new weapon.

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“Get back!” Devereux roared. “He is mine.”

The useless bloodsuckers looked at each other, shrugged, and stepped away.

I couldn’t believe they were just going to stand there, watching. The time had come to replace mindless obedience with common sense. Devereux was a force to be reckoned with, but it was insane to think that something as old and freakish as Hallow could be bested by anyone.

Hallow had become the quintessential symbol of every tyrannical person I’d ever allowed to override my free will. He’d put me and everyone I cared about in danger for his own, selfish needs, leaving a trail of death and destruction in his wake.

I felt like I’d finally awakened from a long sleep, and I refused to stand by, passively, allowing him to complete his foul plan.

We all sensed a turning point approaching. Maxie—freed from her dentally challenged captor—took a step toward the bloody battle. Except for her aura, which was still thick and dark, she’d transformed back into the beautiful woman I’d befriended.

After watching Hallow flash back and forth continuously between his two forms, I discovered if I focused on the likeness I was used to, he appeared that way for me. If I softened my gaze and looked at him with my peripheral vision, the horror show emerged. It was definitely less hideous to deal with the monster in his human shape.

Devereux had managed to slough off the demon sitting on his chest and they were both on their feet again, circling, Hallow brandishing the spike.

Victoria chanted a couple of feet behind me.

“Bring me the witch!” Hallow yelled at Maxie, who startled at the harsh, loud sound of his voice.

Maxie pivoted like a robot, stomped over to Victoria, then backhanded her with such velocity that Victoria became briefly airborne before landing with a loud thud, unconscious. Maxie closed the distance between them, grabbed her arm, and started dragging her across the hard ground toward Hallow.

I was so shocked by the savagery of Maxie’s violence, I jumped in front of her, my palms pressed against her chest. “Let go of her, Maxie. You don’t have to do this. Don’t give in. You’re more than just his slave.”

“You’ve seen what I am.” She stared at me with wide, glazed eyes. “I serve at his pleasure. I can’t fight him.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to.” She raised her fist, reared back, and hit me in the jaw.

The blow took me down. Literally. I’d never been struck before, and the punch, radiating pain across the bones of my face, stunned my senses. I sat dazed on the cold ground for several seconds, rubbed my jaw, opening and closing my mouth to gauge the damage.

Maxie dumped Victoria near Hallow and gave her a vicious kick to the ribs.

Watching Maxie hurt Victoria shook me out of my stupefaction. Heart pumping, adrenaline surging, I leapt to my feet, took a running jump, and landed on Maxie’s back. I wrapped my arm around her neck
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and pulled hard. I’d obviously caught her by surprise, because she lost her balance and we both crashed to the ground a couple of feet away from Victoria. Old ideas about my physical limitations combusted in the raging fire of my anger. I reveled in the dark satisfaction generated by my stranglehold on her throat.

Who knew aggression could feel so good?

Being the more experienced fighter, Maxie sloughed me off, straddled my hips, and pinned me beneath her. She braced my wrists over my head and smirked, keen intelligence once again shining from her eyes, replacing the entranced gaze she’d had moments before. Our unexpected trip to the ground must have altered the zombie-like trance Hallow inflicted on her.

I struggled, bucking my hips, actually managing to shift her off my lower body and free one arm before she regained control.

“Gee, Doc. I’m impressed.” She raised her eyebrows. “A little of Hallow’s blood flowing in your veins and you turn into Xena.” Her expression became pensive and she leaned down to whisper. “Since your boyfriend’s a little busy and it doesn’t look like he’ll be riding to your rescue tonight, I’m going to have to change my plans. I guess I’ll have to get rid of you permanently. Hallow will punish me, but we’ll both get over it. He needs me.”

Delusional thinking. She needs a twelve-step program, like Vampires Anonymous.

“He might need you, but he doesn’t care about you. You mean nothing to him.” I laughed, goading her to have a strong reaction. “You’re an empty husk. Why would he want you when he could have me? For a smart woman, you’re pretty dense.”

She didn’t disappoint. Her eyes narrowed and she gathered both my wrists into one of her hands.

Bull’s-eye.

“Say good-bye, Ethel.”

She reached over and grabbed another nearby stake, held it over my heart, and laughed.

I twisted my body with enough force to bounce her off my hips, which caused her to release my wrists.

Rolling on top of her, I grabbed for the stake, hoping to wrest it from her grip. We grappled, my moment of utilizing the element of surprise caused by my extra physical strength now past. Evenly matched, we both held onto a portion of the stake as it angled between us.

“How arousing,” Hallow crooned from above us.

Maxie lifted off my body and released her grasp on the stake. I held on. Having the sharp weapon in my hand added to my illusion of control. Sort of like carrying an umbrella in a hurricane.

We both stood, staring at the madman.

Hallow spoke directly to her, his expression dark. “Kill my new slave and suffer a fate much worse than death, old woman.”

He’d apparently found a way to escape Devereux long enough to grab Victoria’s unconscious body from the dirt and cuddle her against him. Quick as a cobra, he pierced her neck with his long, sharp fangs and drank deeply before raising his crimson mouth from the holes in her skin. He licked his lips. “Ah, yes.

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Elixir of the gods. The perfect pick-me-up when battling a jealous bloodsucker.”

Devereux waited in front of Hallow, unmoving and silent, clearly censoring himself to keep Victoria safe.

His blood-covered chest was still, breathing unnecessary. His gaze never left his adversary.

“I’ll have to reconsider my plans to be rid of the old in favor of the new,” Hallow observed as he studied Maxie and me. “In fact, I’ve decided to take this voluptuous witch along for the ride. After all, she
is
powerful, and one simply can’t have too much blood available.”

He bent down, as if he were dipping Victoria in a macabre dance, preparing to sink fangs into her neck again. He turned his back to me, and I lunged toward him, spike poised to impale. As I raised my hand to strike, Maxie streaked by me, and threw herself in front of Hallow. I thrust the spike down, pushing it through skin, bone and organs. The spike sliced into her chest before I even realized what I’d done.

Maxie screamed.

I released the spike and stepped back, stunned. “Oh, my God. I’ve killed Maxie.”

Maxie’s body crumpled to the ground, gushing blood.

My stomach churned. I fought back vomit.

What had I done?

Within seconds her physical form disintegrated, leaving a semitransparent puddle of dark green-gray sludge that oozed, like an extraterrestrial life form, into Hallow’s death aura.

Hallow retracted his fangs from Victoria’s neck, threw her down roughly, and snapped into a rigid posture. He turned to me and shrieked, the sound rising into the register probably only heard by dogs.

His face was a mask of fear and outrage. He tore at his hair and growled, blood dripping from his fangs.

Devereux’s arm slid around my waist from behind as he pulled me backwards, away from Hallow.

“Come. It is over now, my love.”

I didn’t know what he meant. How could it be over? Insane Hallow was still here. Did Devereux think Hallow cared that Maxie was dead? That he’d stop his psychotic lunacy to mourn her passing?

Victoria opened her eyes and groaned at Hallow’s feet.

Devereux freed his arm and wrapped me in a thick blanket that suddenly appeared, before pulling me against his bloody chest again. I didn’t know where the warm cloth had come from, but I wasn’t going to question it.

Devereux must have mentally contacted one of his vampires, because a muscular male stepped next to him briefly before hurrying over to Victoria. The large vampire removed his heavy wool cloak, threw it over the wounded witch, and lifted her into his arms.

“Take her to the penthouse,” Devereux ordered.

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“No, Devereux. Wait. Not yet. I need to witness the end of this nightmare,” Victoria urged, her voice barely audible.

Victoria’s rescuer looked to Devereux for direction, and received a nod. They moved over to stand next to us.

Why had the vampire been able to approach Hallow without any repercussions? What was going on?

My head spun as I remembered the wet, thick sound of the spike penetrating Maxie’s chest. I couldn’t have killed her. No. This had to be another horrible nightmare. I’d reacted without thinking when I went for Hallow. I just couldn’t stand watching him suck the life’s blood from Victoria. Why had Maxie gotten in the way? But I didn’t really need to ask. I knew the answer. She couldn’t help herself. Protecting the source of her addiction was all that mattered. But she knew better than anyone that Hallow couldn’t be killed. Did she want to die?

I’d gotten so caught up in remorse about Maxie’s death, that I didn’t immediately notice what was happening to Hallow.

His terrified face reminded me of Edvard Munch’s famous painting,
The Scream.
Silver eyes abnormally wide, he continued his high-pitched keening wail, which had descended the frequency scale and could once again be perceived by human ears.

As I watched, his beautiful body—or the image he’d projected—began to blister and swell, as if acid had been poured on it. Within seconds the familiar façade was gone, and all that remained was the grotesque specter.

Frightened by the sense of impending doom permeating the air, I shifted my head to glance up at Devereux. My stomach clenched. “What’s happening?”

He gave me a gentle squeeze. “The Slayer has lost his tether to the physical world.”

What?

Devereux rubbed his cheek against my hair. “He cannot remain without a slave to feed from. You have bested him.”

“Bested him?” I said, distracted by the horror show in front of me. “You aren’t making any sense. I don’t understand what’s going on.”

Hallow’s vast, malignant aura pulsed and writhed, oscillating around the distorted, twitching thing in the bloody center like a gangrenous cell. The holographic image shifted as I studied it from slightly different angles. Hundreds—no—thousands of bony creatures swam or floated in what appeared to be a thick, slimy liquid. Or maybe heavy, noxious air. The eyes of all the lost souls trapped in Hallow’s metaphysical hell stared, wide and desperate, somehow communicating terror without having actual faces to express the feelings. Lightning-like energy arced throughout the putrid sac.

The entire energy field began to spread out, mimicking the shock wave around a nuclear explosion. My heart pounded as the edge of the toxic mortuary rolled toward me, like a foul tsunami. I raised my arms up to cover my face, bracing for the impact—waiting to be swept inside Hallow’s psychic abyss—but nothing happened.

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I lowered my arms to discover the grisly aura deflating. As if it were in the throes of birth contractions, transitioning from one dimension to another, it pushed itself through an invisible fissure, becoming translucent. A face—the only one I’d seen in there—floated into the remaining section of the sac. As I watched, Maxie’s familiar form appeared. She gave a sad smile before dissolving back into the sea of death.

With a deep rumble, the Hallow-thing vanished.

Silence fell heavy in the underground madhouse.

What had just happened? If others hadn’t been present to witness the incomprehensible delirium, I would have feared for my sanity. A chill ran through my body. Could it really be over?

A deep voice boomed, “Master, the human is near death. Do you wish me to transport him to the penthouse?”

The human?

I gasped and turned toward the vampire squatting next to a very-blue Tom, who lay forgotten on the frozen ground.

“Tom! Please, no!”

I broke free of Devereux’s arms and ran to Tom. Even through the haze of my previously altered state, I recalled the fight between my rarely courageous friend and the monster. He’d tried to save me.

Devereux knelt down beside me and hugged me against him. “I can barely hear his heartbeat. He has little time left.”

My body went cold inside the warm blanket. I grabbed Devereux’s arm. “Can’t you do something?

Transport him to a hospital? Cast a spell to heal him?” For the second time tonight, I cried. These tears were not caused by anyone’s influence. They were pure grief.

Devereux touched his head against mine. “I am not able to bring back the dead, my love. I am sorry.”

I jerked away and turned to him, excited. I grasped his arm, my fingers pressing into his cold skin. “Yes, you are! You are able to bring back the dead. He wanted to be a vampire. You can turn him. You can!

Please, Devereux. I don’t want to lose him this way. There has been enough death and misery tonight.”

Devereux laid a hand on Tom’s chest and closed his eyes. He lifted his hand, shook his head, and met my gaze. “I would not do this—not even for you—if I had not seen him take extraordinary action on your behalf. You must understand that there is no guarantee. Not everyone survives a turning of this sort. He is weak and might not withstand the challenge.” He stroked his finger down my face. “Are you sure you wish me to make your friend one of the undead? He will not be the man you knew for a long time.

Perhaps never again.”

No. I didn’t want him to transform my oldest friend into a bloodsucking creature of the night, but since Tom had made his desires known—and he was nearly dead already—I didn’t see what other choice I had. I simply wasn’t able to let go.

“Yes. I’m sure.”

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Devereux stood and spoke to the vampire still crouched at Tom’s head. “The dawn is less than an hour away. Take him to the penthouse and prepare him. I shall follow.”

The vampire nodded, gathered Tom into his arms, and they vanished.

Devereux spoke to the vampire holding a limp Victoria. “Take her.”

He did.

I stared down at the ritual circle in which Victoria had been held prisoner. The colorful symbols and letters seemed so benign in the remaining candlelight. The last few hours had been a nightmare I’d never forget. Even while the sane part of me had been locked away, I’d still observed everything. Every hideous detail was seared into my brain.

Maxie was dead.

I killed her.

My mind felt numb, empty. How could I simply go about my normal life as if the last few days hadn’t happened?

“Do not torture yourself, Kismet.” Devereux eased up behind me, enfolding me in his arms. “The responsibility for the death and destruction of the recent past can be laid at Hallow’s doorstep alone. It was his abuse of his
lýtle
that caused her willingness to die.” He tightened his grip. “Come. I must attend to your friend before the sun rises, and you must sleep.”

I relaxed my head against his chest, closed my eyes, and felt the familiar sensation of free fall. Soft air blew against my face as we transported from the hidden gentlemen’s club under the streets of Denver to Devereux’s high-rise penthouse. When Devereux released me, I opened my eyes.

He stepped in front of me, looking like a war casualty. His hair was so saturated with blood, it appeared brown instead of blond. But nothing could dim the brilliant green-blue of his eyes. “My staff is here to assist you in my absence. As always, my home is yours.” He held my face in his hands and gently kissed my lips. “I will do what I can for Tom.”

He disappeared.

Several unfamiliar women swarmed toward me, causing me to startle. They’d been so quiet, I hadn’t noticed them. I secured the ends of the blanket tighter around myself.

A tall, elegant, dark-skinned woman stepped forward and offered a warm smile. No fangs. “Welcome, Dr. Knight. I’m Carolyn. You must be exhausted. Devereux said you prefer a shower, but we thought, after the experience you’ve had, you might enjoy soaking in the tub. So, both are available. We’ve also prepared food and drink.” She tilted her head, waiting for my response.

“Are you vampires?” They didn’t feel like vampires to me, but I wasn’t sure how keen my senses were at the moment. It would be a while before I trusted my instincts again.

“No.” She chuckled. “Garden-variety humans. Devereux has hundreds of human employees, although not all of them are aware of his true nature. We”—she pointed to her companions—“have been with him
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for years. He’s a wonderful man.”

She didn’t refer to Devereux as master. That was one point in her favor. I didn’t ask what they were employed to do.

“He also asked me to get your permission to call the clients you have scheduled for today and tell them you have a personal emergency and will need to reschedule. Is that all right?”

My first reaction was to insist I’d see my clients, but that idea quickly deflated. For all intents and purposes, I was temporarily useless to them. A traumatized, grief-stricken therapist wouldn’t be at the top of her game. “Yes, thank you. Tell them I’ll call later.” I paused. “But just out of curiosity, when, exactly, did Devereux tell you all this? He’s been with me for the last several hours.”

“Devereux communicates with me telepathically. He told me shortly before you arrived here. Shall we go?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

I started to say I didn’t need any help. That I could run my own bath and find my own food, but that simply wasn’t true. I was exhausted. My heart was so filled with pain, I could barely breathe. Help would actually be great.

Carolyn led the way and I shuffled along behind her with the other women bringing up the rear, like an impromptu royal procession.

After a hot bath, a small meal, and a glass of wine, I let them tuck me in.

Sleep sucked me under.

* * *

Dressed in a comfortable bathrobe, I wandered out to the dining area expecting to find another breakfast buffet. I wasn’t disappointed. Food was abundant.

Victoria sat at the end of the table, drinking her cup of tea. She was dressed in one of her lovely goddess gowns and she smiled as I approached. “I could get used to this.” She chuckled, as she flicked a hand toward the feast.

I hurried over to her, pulled out a nearby chair, and sat. “Are you all right?” Her neck was a mass of multi-colored bruises, as was her cheek, and her lip was split and swollen. My midsection tightened in anger as I confronted the damage Hallow had inflicted on her.

“Yes. I’m better than I would’ve expected, considering.” She patted my hand and nodded, her voice perky. “And I’ll be even better by tonight, after my coven performs a healing ritual on me.” She took a sip of tea. “You’re welcome to come, you know. I think it would be good for you to deepen your occult knowledge and practice your skills. Plus, we could help heal that terrible bruise on the side of your face.”

I stared at her until she sighed and dropped the false cheerfulness.

“Okay.” She shook her head. “It was horrible and I feel defiled and broken. Slimed. I’m almost sorry
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he’s dead—or whatever he is—because now I can’t take my revenge. I can’t make him pay for what he did to me.” Her breathing was fast and ragged, her face flushed. “I’m left with all these feelings of hatred with nowhere to put them.”

She started to cry. I scooted closer and hugged her.

We were silent for several minutes.

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, sniffed a few times, and shifted back in her seat. I took that as a cue to give her more space, so I moved my chair over to its original position and poured myself a cup of coffee, waiting for her to continue.

“When he came into the lobby yesterday morning—was it really only yesterday?—I was so shocked by what he really was that I hesitated. I could have pressed the alarm button under my desk, but my brain froze. I couldn’t think. And before I even realized, he’d transported me out of there. We were in that disgusting, frigid underground place.” She gave a cynical laugh. “I did manage to fight him off for about two seconds before he entrapped me with those silver eyes. I think I pulled out a handful of his hair.”