It was also rumored that her experiment had succeeded, that she had found eternal life and that the story of her death had been concocted, not by human officials, but by powerful elements within the vampire community. When they'd discovered her crimes--and, yes, killing six hundred humans was a crime even by vampire standards--they'd masterminded her arrest and trial. Then, the vampires themselves walled her up, where she remains to this day, having outlived every vampire who knew where she was imprisoned.
In covering up the success of her immortality experiments, her captors had tried to ensure such crimes would never be repeated. Yet the story, true or not, had been passed down through generations of immortality questers. Most didn't dare replicate Bathory's work but, about every hundred years or so, somebody tried.
"But to bathe in blood," I said. "That would--each time you did it, you'd need to kill how many people? Where would they bury all those--?" I stopped, remembering the strange patchwork terrain out back. I swallowed. "I think I might know."
After uncovering the fourth body, we stopped digging. All four corpses were drained of blood, and all in the ground less than a year, which meant they weren't Edward and Natasha's requisite annual kills. When we looked out over the patchwork of old-growth and new-growth meadow, we knew if we kept digging we'd find many more.
After ensuring that the artist was still unconscious, we returned to the cabin and took what we could for later examination. Then we drove to Edward and Natasha's house in the city and searched it again, now looking for hidden rooms and caches. We found nothing, which didn't surprise us; it was unlikely they'd go to all the trouble of secreting away their materials at the cabin, only to leave some in their house.
Throughout the searches, we'd all been pretty quiet, still shocked over what we'd found at the cabin. As Lucas drove us to the airport, though, my numbed brain finally began to churn through the facts...and found a gaping crater in the logic.
"Doesn't it punch a big hole in our theory about his motivation for killing Cabal kids?"
Lucas slanted a look my way, telling me to continue.
"Okay, if Edward's experiments with humans failed, then I can see him testing them out with supernaturals. But what's he taking? Not blood, that's for sure. Or, at least, not enough to bathe in. If he's taking something else, like the stuff that Cassandra found--" I glanced into the backseat at her. "Was it...material that wouldn't be missed?"
She shook her head. "Some of it is external, some internal, but everything would have been missed, if not in a visual examination, then at least in the most cursory autopsy. Perhaps he was taking something different, something small enough to be overlooked."
"I doubt that," Lucas said. "Joey Nast was still alive when we found him. I can't imagine the killer had time to excise anything from his body."
"But everything else fits," I said. "We're looking for a vampire killer, possibly from the Cincinnati area. Edward is a vampire from Cincinnati, with killing experience that goes well beyond feeding. According to his neighbors, he hasn't been home in over a week. His longtime lover has left him, which might have sent him over the edge, desperate to find the key to immortality so he can win her back. Even his physical description matches what little Esus saw of him. It all fits."
"All except that one piece," Lucas said. "Edward appears to be our man, so I'd suggest that we consider another theory regarding his motivation."
"Like what?" Aaron said.
"I have no idea," Lucas said. "But I'm open to suggestions."
We all looked at one another...and said nothing.
A Most Unwelcome Intrusion
WE BOARDED THE JET. OUR FIRST STOP WOULD BE Atlanta. Although tomorrow was Sunday, Aaron had to work. Well, he didn't have to, but he'd promised a friend he'd take his shift and, since it didn't look like we'd be hot on Edward's trail just yet, he didn't want to break that promise. When we had a line on Edward, Aaron wanted to come back and help out. Being a vampire meant he had a lot of unused sick days, so he didn't expect to have any trouble getting time off his bricklaying job.
When Lucas returned from conferring with the pilot, he suggested we all try to sleep.
"It's not the most comfortable environment," he said. "But I doubt anyone slept much last night, and these next few hours may be our only chance tonight."
Cassandra nodded. "You and Paige should definitely try to sleep. I'm not tired, though, so I'll sit in the rear cabin, if you don't mind."
Lucas escorted Cassandra into the tiny private cabin behind ours.
"Did she sleep at all last night?" Aaron whispered to me when they were out of earshot.
I shook my head. "She says...she says she's not sleeping much lately."
His eyes filled with quiet grief, as if this was the answer he'd been both expecting and dreading.
"I'll sit up with her," he said.
As I pulled pillows and a blanket from the closet, Lucas disappeared into the crew area. He returned a few minutes later carrying two mugs of tea. He slid my "forgotten" bottle of painkillers from his pocket. I opened my mouth to argue, then caught his look, nodded, and held out my hand. He shook two into it, then sat beside me.
"How are you doing?" he asked.
"Shaken, but okay. When we heard Edward and Nastasha were into dark stuff, I steeled myself for what we thought was the worst--that they were experimenting with humans. But the scale...the number of people they must have--"
I gulped my tea and sputtered as the hot liquid burned my throat. Lucas took my mug with a rush of apologies.
"No, that's my fault," I said. "I always tell you to make it hot. I drank it too fast."
I took the mug from his hands. As I moved it to my side table, my hands shook so badly that tea sloshed over the side, nearly burning me again.
"Damn it," I muttered, then managed a small smile. "Guess I'm not so okay after all."
He squeezed my hand. "Completely understandable."
"I know I have to be able to handle this better," I said. "If I'm going to help you, I need to get over my squeamishness. I'm too--"
"You're fine," he said. "I'm not feeling too 'okay' myself. I can guarantee, as a, uh, partner in my endeavors, you'd likely never see anything on this scale again."
"Partner?" I said, my smile turning genuine. "Don't think I didn't notice the hitch in your voice. Don't worry. I have no plans to shoehorn myself into your life that way. I'll be here to help when you need me, but that's it."
"That wasn't--That is to say, I certainly don't mind, if you're interested..."
"I'm not. Well, I am, but I can't be, right? Between the council and the new Coven, my plate's already full." I inhaled. "We screwed up. The council, I mean. We should have caught this."
"You can't keep tabs on every vampire--"
"Can't we?" I said. "The Pack does it with werewolves, and there are more of them to police and fewer people to do it. I don't mean we need to be breathing down every vampire's neck, but we need to be more proactive in general. There were rumors. We should have heard them. I can't blame Cassandra for that. It's everyone's responsibility. I want to change things, to start paying closer attention. But I also want to start this new Coven. I need to do that. It's what I'm supposed to do."
"Because your mother would have wanted it," he said softly.
"Not just that. I wanted--or I thought I wanted..." I rubbed my hands over my face. "I know rebuilding the Coven is important, but some days I feel like there are other things I should be doing, things I'd rather be doing, and the Coven...I'm not sure it's still my dream, or that it ever really was."
"You'll figure it out."
Lucas leaned over and kissed me, a slow, gentle kiss that calmed the confusion crashing about in my head. After a few minutes, we reclined our seats, curled up together, and let the soft drone of the plane lull us to sleep. When the plane landed in Atlanta, I woke up just enough to hear Aaron and Cassandra's whispered exchange of good-byes. A moment after the cabin door shut behind Aaron, I felt Cassand
ra tug the fallen blanket up over me. I sensed her standing there, watching me, but by the time I pried my eyes open, she was gone.
When I woke again, the plane had landed in Miami. I knew it had to be past dawn, but the cabin's blackout shades made it nearly pitch black inside. I snuggled in closer to Lucas and pulled up the blanket to ward off the chill of the air-conditioning.
"Cold nose," Lucas said with a sleepy laugh.
I tried pulling back, but he lifted my chin and kissed me.
"That's nice and warm," he said.
"Hmmm. Very nice."
"We're going to have to see my father today," he murmured between kisses.
"Hmmm, not so nice."
Another laugh. "Sorry."
"No, you're right. We need to tell him what we found...and we should thank him for the use of the jet." I caught Lucas's look. "You don't still regret taking it, do you?"
He sighed. "I don't know. I worry about how it will be interpreted. Then I worry about whether it's a sign of backsliding. And then I worry about worrying too much, what you must think of it." A quarter-smile. "Self-doubt is not a sexy trait in a lover."
"Depends on the lover. You can be almost scarily self-confident, Cortez. I like being the only one who gets to peek through the chinks in the armor. If you're still worried, though, I do know a good temporary cure."
A crooked grin. "Distraction?"
"Um-hmmm." I slid my hands under the blanket.
"Wait," he said. "I still owe you for the broom closet, and believe I can be adequately distracted by reciprocating that favor."
I grinned. "You never owe me. But I won't argue if you insist."
"I do."
As he shifted forward to kiss me, a seat squeaked...only it didn't sound like the seat we were lying on. I lifted my head to see Benicio tiptoeing for the cabin door. Lucas bolted upright and swore.
Benicio stopped, his back still to us. "My apologies. I came by for an update. I was waiting for you to wake up."
"We've been awake, quite obviously awake, for a few minutes," Lucas said.
"Yes, well..."
"You couldn't resist eavesdropping on a private conversation," Lucas said. "Until it threatened to become too private."
"I--"
"We're dressed," I said. "You might as well come in and say your piece."
Benicio turned, his gaze glancing off Lucas's glare before veering to rest on the far wall. I got up and stalked past him, out the cabin door and into the serving station, where I turned on the coffeemaker. By the time I returned, I'd had enough time to cool down. I was still pissed, but there was little danger I'd "accidentally" dump Benicio's coffee in his lap.
"I was just summing up our findings," Lucas said as I passed out the mugs.
"I can't believe it," Benicio said. "They wouldn't have gotten away with that here, but in Ohio..." He shook his head. "We need more offices in the Midwest. I've said it before."
Lucas stopped, mug halfway to his lips. "The Nasts were looking into a Cincinnati office, weren't they?"
Benicio nodded. "They still are, I believe, but they delayed their plans. They ran into a problem with the area that needed to be cleared up first."
I turned to Lucas. Our eyes met.
"When did they--" Lucas began.
The intercom buzzed on. "Sorry for the interruption, sir, but there's a red-haired woman here and she demands to speak to you. She says--"
"That's fine," Lucas cut in. "She's with us. Let her in."
I glanced back at the still-closed door between the rear cabins. "Guess she stepped out before we woke up."
The main door opened and I caught a glimpse of Benicio's standin bodyguard Morris. Then a woman barreled past, nearly knocking the big man flying. It was indeed a red-haired woman, but not Cassandra.
Justifiable Hysteria
JAIME STUMBLED PAST THE GUARD, HEAD BOWED, SHOULDERS hunched. As she staggered forward, my first thought was that she'd been drinking. Then I noticed her shoes--one sneaker, one pump with a two-inch heel, both pulled on over bare feet, the sneaker still untied, as if she'd grabbed the first two shoes she could find, yanked them on and ran. Her blouse was misbuttoned and stained with splotches of brown and dark red, and her hair hung in a snarled mess, a clip clinging to one side. She pushed back her hair, revealing a face streaked with makeup and tears.
"Oh, God," I said, rushing forward. "What happened?"
She turned. Four bloodred gouges raked her face from eye to jaw. I gasped.
"I'll call a medic," Lucas said as I guided Jaime to a chair.
"N--no," she said. "Don't, please. I--I'm okay."
She collapsed into the chair, bent her head down almost to her thighs, and gulped air, body shaking. After a moment, she convulsed in one final shudder, then lifted her head and brushed her hair from her eyes. She lookedaround, a slow, cautious gaze, shoulders tensed, as if expecting something to leap out at her.
"I'll call the medic," Benicio said, rising slowly.
"No!" she snapped. Then she saw who she was snapping at. Her eyes went wide and she dropped her face into her hands with a hiccupping laugh. "Oh, yeah, a fucking breakdown in front of Benicio Cortez. My day is now complete." She tilted her head to the ceiling. "Thank you very much!"
I dropped into the seat beside Jaime and took her hands. She squeezed mine so hard her nails drew blood. I murmured a calming spell. Jaime inhaled a long, shuddering breath, exhaled and relaxed her grip. After one last cautious look around, she sank back into the seat with a relieved sigh.
"Gone," she said. "I thought that might be the problem. Must have thought you two had abandoned us for good."
Lucas explained to Benicio what was going on.
"A ghost who can displace objects but can't contact a necromancer?" Benicio said, frowning. "I've never heard of such a thing."
"Join the club," Jaime muttered. "The poltergeisting was bad enough, but now this--" She pointed at her cheek. "Last time I had a spook reach out and touch me was twenty years ago, when I accidentally disturbed something very old, and very powerful. And, believe me, that one could talk back--in several languages. This one--" She shook her head. "Well, I don't know what this one's problem is, but it's not acting like any spook I've ever met."
"We think it might not be a ghost at all," I said to Benicio. Then I looked at Lucas. "I think it's time to consider exorcism."
He nodded. "Past time, by the look of things. We should--"
"No exorcism," Jaime said.
"Yes, I realize they're unpleasant," Lucas said. "Yet it can't be any worse than what you're enduring now. This has gone far enough--"
"No, it hasn't," she said firmly. "It hasn't gone far enough. Not yet. Whatever this thing is, it has a message it's eager--painfully eager--to deliver to you guys. It's a rough ride, but I'm prepared to tough it out if it'll help solve this case."
"What if it's not trying to help us?" I said. "Look at the way it's acting. That's not normal behavior for a helpful spirit."
"But it has helped, right? It gave us the vampire clue and led us to Cass--" She stopped, eyes going wide. "Oh, my god. Paige is right. It is evil."
"I heard that."
I twisted to see Cassandra in the open doorway between the cabins. She stifled a yawn.
I smiled. "Got some sleep?"
"A nap."
"Good."
She started forward, then blinked, seeing Benicio. She slanted a look my way, and I knew she wanted a proper introduction this time.
I gestured toward Cassandra. "Benicio, this is--"
"Cassandra DuCharme," Benicio said, standing and extending a hand. "Pleased to meet you."
Cassandra's brows arched.
Benicio smiled as he released her hand. "When Lucas first raised the possibility that we were dealing with a vampire, I suspected it might have been you I met at Tyler Boyd's apartment. The Cabal keeps very good records on all supernaturals of influence, so I only needed to check our dossiers for your photograph to be sure."
>
"One advantage to vampire mug shots," I said. "They're never out-of-date."
"I assume you're here to represent the vampires' interests in this matter?" Benicio said.
"Yes," Cassandra said. "Something which, I fear--" She stopped and her gaze swept across the other side of the cabin, her frown growing as she saw no one there. She gave her head a sharp shake. "Which I fear may become--"
She wheeled, one hand shooting up, palm out, as if to ward something off. She scowled at the empty space behind her.
"Huh," Jaime said. "Good to see I'm not the only skittish one this morning."
Cassandra's gaze shot to Jaime, getting a look at her for the first time. "What the hell happened to you?"
"Same thing I think is happening to you," Jaime said. "Without the clawing, bitch-slapping, hair-pulling, and all that fun psychic wounding stuff."
"Jaime's spirit is back," I explained. "It's probably here now. Is that what you're sensing?"
Cassandra cast another look around. "I'm not sure. What--"
Jaime flew forward, nearly onto Lucas's lap. He lunged to grab her, but before he could, she jerked back into her seat so hard she ricocheted off it and would have toppled to the floor if both Lucas and I hadn't caught her.
"What?" she shouted at the ceiling. "We aren't moving fast enough for you? Impatient bitch."
"It's a woman?" Benicio asked.
Jaime flourished a hand at the claw marks down her face. "Either that or a demon with talons. Fights like a woman, I'll tell you that much." She fingered her scalp and winced for effect, then looked at me. "You don't see any bald spots, do you?"
I lifted up in my seat for a better look, then shook my head. "Nothing a good brushing won't fix."
"Thank God. Last thing I need is--"
Jaime's head whipped back so fast her vertebra crackled. Lucas, Benicio, and I all jumped from our chairs, and even Cassandra stepped forward. Twin indentations appeared on the side of Jaime's neck. Before anyone had time to react, the dents punctured through the skin and blood spurted.
Cassandra shouldered me aside. Jaime yelped, her hand going to her neck as she backed away from Cassandra. Blood gushed over her fingers. Lucas reached to grab Cassandra's arm, lips parting to cast a spell. Then he saw that I wasn't trying to stop Cassandra.