Secrets of the Night Special Edition (103 page)

She smiled slyly.” Rosalinda? That's my secret. You'll just have to believe me.” She returned to her silver jewelry box, rummaging among glittering bracelets, ear rings, and necklaces, all set with precious stones. An emerald necklace sparkled around her slender neck . . . Rosalinda's, no doubt.

"We have no proof.” For Galan's sake, he must have an answer, and yes, for his sake, too. He'd developed a fondness for the dark-haired vampiress and he missed her in his own inimitable way. He moved closer to Lilith, as if to taunt her with his presence.

She slapped her hand on the table.” You doubt my word?”

"Let's just say I don't accept it as the Gospel truth.”

She jerked back, as if he'd driven a stake through her heart.” Don't use that word around me!”

"What--Gospel?” 

"Stop it!”  she snapped. Her hands fluttered about, twisting rings on her fingers, knocking over perfume bottles.

"Very well.” Octavius made a mocking bow.” Your wish is my command.” He gave her a cautious glance.” Moloch is angry with you for destroying Rosalinda. Aren't you afraid he'll come after you?” 

Her eyes flashed with indignation, her voice rising.” Rosalinda instigated the trouble.” Lilith lowered her voice.” I'll tell him I killed her in self-defense.”

"You think he'll believe you?” 

"It's the truth!”

"So you have no proof that Rosalinda is dead?” 

She rolled her eyes.” I already said you'd have to take my word for it.”

"What if I don't believe you?”

She shrugged.” No blood from my veins.”

Making the best of an unsatisfactory situation, he performed an exaggerated bow.” I shall leave you now, my dear Lilith. Do come visit next time you're in
Brussels
. We can do the city together.” With a wink and a wave, he disappeared.

* * *

Galan, please help me!

Stevie! Galan stopped midway between his living room sofa and the front door. A strong warning flashed through his brain, tugging at his heart.

In less than a second, he arrived inside her apartment, next to the dryer. By all the saints, no! A revenant threatened her. Fierce, red hot rage exploded inside him. He wanted to kill, kill, kill the bastard!

The monster turned from Stevie and looked at him, blinking his soulless eyes with incomprehension.

Stevie's face revealed pure relief, but puzzlement, too.” Galan, how did you--?” 

"Not now, later!”

Galan jerked the revenant and banged the monster's head against the opposite wall.” You bastard!” After he killed the beast, the whoreson would disintegrate. God, Stevie must not see this.

"Stevie, please go to your room and close the door.”

"Are you crazy! I'll get out of the way, but I will not close the door,” she said, turning to rush from the room.

"Don't call the police,” he shouted as he struggled to subdue the monster, his hands busy, every muscle straining.

The revenant's jaw dropped open, a look of confusion on his face as he glanced from him to Stevie.

Needing more room to maneuver, Galan grabbed a plastic cup from the washing machine and threw it into the kitchen. He watched in grim satisfaction as the revenant turned in that direction. With one quick movement, Galan shoved him beyond the cubbyhole into the kitchen.

The monster lashed out at him, slicing sharp nails across his face. Galan jerked back in shock. Pain stung his cheeks. His gaze scanned the kitchen for a weapon. And saw none.

A low growl erupted from the beast. It lunged for him again, swinging his arm in a wide arc. Galan stepped aside, the arm missing him by inches.

"You son of a bitch!” Desperation propelled Galan. Next to the oven, he gripped the revenant by the throat, clasping, pinching, pressing, determined to choke him to death. The revenant gagged, his eyeballs bulging, his skin slimy.

The revenant broke free and shoved him aside. Still needing more space, Galan rushed for the living room. Like a puppet, the creature followed him.

Two quick strides took Galan to the sofa. Now to--

The revenant lurched for him, but Galan flung him away. The monster grabbed him in a steely grip. Locked in a macabre dance of death, the two antagonists jerked about the living room, dashing, bashing, crashing into an end table, sending a vase tumbling to the carpeted floor.

Hunger weakened Galan. He couldn't last much longer.

* * *

Stevie's heart pounded, faster, faster, faster. She stood in her doorway, hands clasped as she watched Galan and the monster. Noises sounded throughout the apartment, gasps and grunts and moans, a struggle of life and death. Scared witless, she bent her head as waves of dizziness washed over her. God, she prayed, please take care of Galan.

But how had that thing gotten into the house? Both front and back doors were locked, a deadbolt secured at each. For that matter, how had Galan gotten in?

And what was it?

Breathing hard, she rushed from her bedroom to the living room. She skirted the two fighters, fear sickening her.

In the kitchen, she grabbed a sharp knife from a drawer, her hand trembling. Sweat greased her palm, and the weapon clattered to the floor. Shot with pain and terror, she bent down to reclaim the weapon. She rushed back to the living room, knife clutched in her trembling hand.

Galan and the beast remained locked in a deadly embrace.

How she wanted to escape this nightmare, but she couldn't leave Galan.

* * *

Galan shoved the creature against the wall, banging his head again and again. The revenant pushed him away, back, back, back, until he bumped into the sofa. Galan saw Stevie, the knife in her hand. Relief flooded him, but worry, too. What if the bastard turned on her again? 

His strength ebbing, he slammed the revenant to the floor. The beast landed on his stomach, legs thrashing. Wordless sounds escaped his throat. Saliva pooled on the rug.

"Give me the knife!”  Galan ordered.

"I can do it!” Stevie raised the knife and slashed it into the creature's massive back.

The revenant lay still at last.

Crouched on the soles of his feet, Galan looked up at Stevie. He sighed heavily.” Good work. Now please wait in your room. I'll handle matters here.” Another glance revealed her white face.” Perhaps you should lie down.”

"Yes!” Hand pressed to her mouth, she rushed to her room and slammed the door behind her.

Oddly bloodless, the revenant lay quiescent, not yet dead. Galan jerked the knife from his back and turned him over, then plunged the knife through his heart.

In slow motion, the revenant disintegrated, his skin sloughing off to reveal his desiccated organs, until those, too, disappeared. His bones crumbled until only ashes fouled the floor, the steel knife as solid as ever. For countless moments, Galan waited for his exhaustion to pass.

After he fetched a pan from the kitchen, he scooped up the ashes and headed for the back door. In the inky blackness of night, he threw the ashes to the winds. There in the backyard, he breathed in the fresh air, reveling in the breeze that caressed his face, its sweetness washing the stench of the revenant from his nose and throat.

Back inside, he strode through the living room, then cautiously opened Stevie's bedroom door. She sat on the bed, clasping and unclasping her hands, her long hair hanging in front of her eyes. At his entrance, she looked up, an unspoken question on her lips. By the blessed Virgin, if only she knew how her anguish tore him apart.

"You . . . you killed him?” 

"With your help.” Galan hurried to her side and sat next to her, wrapping his arm around her waist.” Don't know how to mind, do you, sweeting? Should have stayed in your room,” he said as he brushed strands of hair from her cool face.

Turning toward him, she lifted her chin a notch.” If I hadn't gone to the living room when I did. . .”

"Yes, yes, I know. Without you. . .” He shrugged, afraid to say anymore.

She looked past him into the living room.” Where's the body? And my God! What was it?” 

"Never mind what it was. You don't want to know. And as for the body, don't worry. It's . . . let us say it's taken care of.”

She drew back, alarm flashing across her face.” You buried him in the backyard!”

"So quickly?”  He laughed a little.” Not even I could do that in such a short amount of time.”

"Not even you?” 

Curse his foolish tongue!” I mean, as a man, I'm stronger than you. But I couldn't dig a deep hole so fast, especially in the near frozen ground.”

"Then where is he?”  Anguish marred her pretty features.” Don't worry. He won't bother you again.” Galan reached for her, but she edged back.

"He escaped!”

"No. Please ask no more questions. Believe me, he won't cause any more trouble.”

"Shouldn't we call the police now?” 

"No, I fear a call will only prompt unwanted questions.”

"What do you mean?” 

"I mean, it will accomplish nothing. Please, Stevie,” he implored, easing her close to him.” He is gone. He is no more.”

A look of bewilderment crossed her face.” I still don't understand.” A moment of silence passed between them, her forehead creased in thought.” Something else I don't understand--how did you know to come to me--that I needed you? Not that I don't appreciate your presence,” she added, twisting her fingers together.

Gently, he ran a forefinger down her cheek.” Don't you know by now how closely we're attuned?” 

She nodded, her head against his chest. How he wanted to hold her ever closer, kiss her to drive them both to distraction, help them forget this night's events.

"I don't understand that either,” she said, “but I think you have something there.” She glanced up at him.” Another thing--how--how did that thing get in? You, too. The doors were all locked.”

"That will have to remain a mystery . . . for now. Later, I will tell you everything.” Yes, even tell her what he was, although he knew he would lose her forever.

"But--"

"No more questions.” There remained one more act of love he must accomplish--erase every memory of this night from her mind. Lightly, he raised his fingertips to her forehead, his voice deep and hypnotic.” Go to sleep, Stevie. You will forget about the revenant. And my visit, as well.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, her breathing shallow. With tender hands, he stretched her out on the bed, her head touching the pillow. Then he drew her covers over her. Mindful of the scratches on her arm and thigh, he bent over her to brush them with the healing touch of his lips. He gave her one last, loving gaze, as if to imprint every feature in his memory.

Wanting only to stay and hold her throughout the night, he left, first returning the vase to the table, the painting to the wall, the knife to the kitchen. A hundred problems plagued him . . . how to protect Stevie from Moloch's wrath, how to discover what ailment afflicted her, how to help her . . . if he could.

* * *

After he returned from feeding the next night, Galan resolved to confront Moloch. Who else but that fiend had sent the revenant to kill Stevie? Familiar with the head vampire's habits, he knew he'd find him at the castle now.

He closed his eyes in concentration, and within seconds, arrived at Schloss Omerau. A light dusting of snow frosted the crumbling towers and turrets of the old castle, like a lace mantilla on an aged crone. Majestic and blanketed with snow, the
Alps
rose in the distance.

In the blink of an eye, Galan arrived at the great hall, where Moloch sat at the long table, a silver goblet by his side. A furious wind blasted through the open windows, sending the draperies whipping out from the wall. Snowflakes swept inside the room and glistened like ice on the cold floor. The chandelier swung wildly from the ceiling, its crystals tinkling with an incessant clamor.

The head vampire looked up in surprise, then set the goblet on the table with a soft thud.” What brings you here?”  He smelled of wet rot and things that creep in the darkness.

Squaring his shoulders, Galan approached the table and spoke without preamble.” I've come to make a bargain with you.”

Moloch scowled.” I don't make bargains.” He raised the goblet to his mouth, never taking his gaze from Galan, then dabbed a linen napkin across his lips.

"Hear me out.” He remained standing, so Moloch would have to look up at him. His voice held a note of steely determination.” I'm telling you to leave her alone.”

"You're telling me?” Moloch snapped.” Of whom do you speak?” 

"You know who--the mortal woman.”

"The mortal woman!” Moloch looked puzzled.” But I sent a revenant--"

"Dead. I killed him.” Stifling his smile of satisfaction, Galan delighted in Moloch's furious look.