Tempted in the Night (16 page)
"I understand that you've met Sheldon Harris."
John nodded.
"The vampire."
"Okay. Well, the same
chupacabra
that killed him and turned him into a vampire also attacked Mac and Dirk. The
chupacabra
venom is what turns dead humans into vampires. Mac and Dirk were injected with enough venom that had they died, they would have become vampires. Because they didn't die, the
chupacabra
venom couldn't take over their entire system, so instead, they became changelings—half-human and half-vampire." He paused, giving John time to absorb what he was hearing.
"
Half
-vampire?"
Sure, why not
, John thought, feeling himself slip a little farther through
Alice
's Looking Glass. If there could be vampires, why couldn't there just as well be half-vampires?
"You might not have noticed the changes in them, but they do share some of the vampire's attributes," Charles continued. "For instance, they are immeasurably stronger than they were before, and they move with almost as much speed as the full vampire."
As Charles talked, John thought back to how fast Mac and Dirk had moved on campus. He hadn't been able to keep up.
"They have incredible hearing," Charles went on. "And their night vision is better than our day vision. Have you ever noticed that sometimes their eyes glow with reddish light?"
An image of Dirk standing at the trunk of John's car, studying the sword, flashed through his mind.
"On the downside," Charles continued, "while they are very energetic during the night, they have a hard time functioning during the day." He paused noticeably, making John wonder what else he was about to hear. "They also have fangs."
John tried to remember if he'd ever seen Dirk's or Mac's teeth. They didn't smile much and he'd always assumed they lacked a sense of
humor
, but if they had fangs… "Do they drink blood?"
"They only drink the blood of those who willingly give it—and they don't do it often. Unlike vampires, changelings don't need blood to survive, but small doses of it, freely given, can be a powerful source of energy and strength. And that's a critical point—the blood must be freely given. A changeling who takes blood by force will die."
Charles finally stopped speaking and let John digest what he'd heard.
"Thank you for explaining all of that," John said finally. "It was very… enlightening. However, I haven't changed my mind. I'm going to
New Orleans
because I believe Jessica is in danger. If Mac and Dirk would like to come along…" He didn't finish the sentence because Charles was shaking his head.
"They can't. Dirk and Beth are on their way to
"I understand, but what about Mac or you?"
Charles frowned. "We've got a critical progeny situation here and too many lives at stake for us to leave. I'm afraid you're on your own, so let me give you a few pointers. A gun may slow them down, but it won't kill a vampire unless you shoot their head off, literally. The sword should be your weapon of choice and, barring that, a dagger. Aim for their heart and when you strike, you hit those sons of bitches just as hard as you damn well can. You understand?"
John nodded, feeling much like a soldier under the admiral's command must have felt before going into battle.
"All right.
Once they're dead, either cut off their-head or leave them out where the sun can turn them into stone—or both. Once the sun converts them, any stiff breeze will disintegrate the stone and turn them to dust.
Any questions?"
"No, I think I've got it."
"Good. We'll do our best to get the situation here under control so at least one of us can join you in New Orleans ASAP." He paused, and John thought he saw the admiral struggling to keep his expression carefully schooled. "You take care of Jess, you hear? That kid's been through a lot in her life. She's not as strong as she thinks she is."
John wasn't sure he agreed with Charles's assessment. He thought Jess was a lot stronger than the admiral gave her credit for being, but kept his opinion to himself. "I'll keep her safe, I promise."
Charles nodded.
"All right.
Let me give you directions to the Winslow Manor."
Moments later, he handed John a piece of paper and then stood to come around the side of the desk, holding out his hand to shake John's. "I'm counting on you, son."
"I won't let you down." He started to leave, but then stopped to turn back to the admiral. "It might be better if you didn't tell Jess I was coming. I have a feeling she won't exactly be thrilled to see me."
Jess sat at the kitchen table of the Winslow Manor studying the vast assortment of equipment and supplies that she'd accumulated over the last two days. There were coils of rope and chain, heavy locks, IV needles and tubing, an assortment of chemicals, and some herbs she'd brought from home. She even had frozen containers of pig's blood sitting in the freezer. There was everything here that she needed to lure and trap a
chupacabra
of her own.
All she needed now was to find the house pictured on the magazine page. Find the house; find the
chupacabra
colony. Both were close to the Winslow Manor—she'd learned that much after talking to someone at the magazine's publishing company. And it made sense that the
Winslows
would have a house close to where the vampires existed. The only reason there weren't
Winslows
still living there was because all the vampires had presumably been killed generations ago. Jess was about to find out if that status had changed.
Pushing away from the table, she went outside to the old barn. Fortunately, it had been built of sturdy wood that was still in good repair. The sides of the stalls were only about ten feet tall, and she hoped that would be enough to keep a small creature trapped inside.
After double-checking the condition of the wood and testing the strength of the padlocks, she headed back to the main house, satisfied with how everything was going. Her flight coming down had been uneventful. With the Mardi
Gras
celebrations going on,
New Orleans
had been a crush of people and activity, but she hadn't stayed to enjoy any of it. Instead, she'd rented a car and driven out to the Winslow Manor, located far enough outside of
New Orleans
to be considered "in the country," but still close enough to the city that she could enjoy everything the city offered without spending half a day driving to get there.
She'd found the estate well maintained and ready for immediate occupancy. To her further relief, the key she'd taken from her father's desk still unlocked the doors. Starting to feel like a kid who had successfully run away from home, she had been surprised when, last night, Charles had called to chew her out for lying about flying back to
England
and to warn her about Brody.
For some reason, he thought the vampire was on his way to
New Orleans
to find her. The idea was absurd, but Charles wouldn't get off the phone until she'd assured him she'd be cautious, and she'd hung up before thinking to ask how he'd known where to find her.
Now, sitting at the kitchen table once again, she checked everything against the list she'd made and found it all accounted for. She glanced at her watch. It would be dark in a couple of hours and she really wanted to get started on her search for the colony, but knew it would be better to start in the morning, after the sun was up.
She was so focused on her train of thought that she jumped when the doorbell rang. Thinking it might be yet another deliveryman, she cast a quick glance over the assortment laid out on the table as she stood up. For the life of her, as she crossed the room to open the front door, she couldn't think what might be missing.
"You!"
Dressed in a gray short-sleeved shirt tucked into charcoal gray jeans and carrying a duffel bag, John
Boehler
looked like he belonged on the pages of a sports and casual clothing magazine. Without his usual long raincoat, he seemed so much more virile to her. She tried to ignore the sudden rush of her heartbeat.
"Hi
ya
, princess.
It's good to see you, too." He pushed past her and walked into the foyer before she could stop him. There he paused and, tipping down his sunglasses to peer over the upper rim, scanned the inside of the manor. "Nice place." She followed his gaze to the upper level, visible from below. "This place must have at least a dozen rooms."
"I don't know," she said primly. "I've not counted them."
He smiled at her.
"Doesn't matter.
One's all I need."
"Don't be absurd," Jessica spit out as soon as she recovered from her shock. "You are most definitely not staying here."
"Oh, I think I am." He bulldozed past her attempt to block the stairs and took them two at a time to the top.
"In fact, it would probably be best if we shared a room," he began, causing her to nearly trip as she raced after him. He seemed to hone in on her bedroom right away, and she barely had enough time to duck past him and block the doorway before he got there.
"Absolutely not."
Arms braced on either side of the doorway, she faced him. For seconds, they stood toe-to-toe, his expression unreadable, and then he gave her a partial smile. "Fine, but later,
don't
come begging to share my bed. You had your chance."
With an evil grin, he turned and opened the door opposite hers. "This looks nice. I'll stay here."
Jess followed him to the doorway as he walked into the room and looked around. Finally, he set the duffel bag on the bed.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, exasperated.
"I'm here because I have reason to believe that Brody is on his way down here with the express purpose of coming after you."
Jess stared at him and then gave a bark of laughter. "So you came to what?
To protect me?
That's awfully sweet of you and absolutely not necessary. I'm sorry you wasted your time. Good-bye."