“Some of us manage. For a while. There are presently four vampires in this city. Jude knows us all, but how many have you met? Even when we feel friendship, we don’t form tight-knit groups.” He paused. “I know the others, of course. But it’s not like we hang out together, unless there’s a good reason.”
She liked how he sometimes sounded so formal when he spoke, while at other times he spoke slang with ease. “Are there other vampires where you live? Cologne?”
“Only me.”
“That has to be lonely.”
“I’ve never really noticed. It’s just the way it is.”
She wondered if she would be able to stand that, then wondered why she was even asking herself. Maybe something changed when you became a vampire, but since that wasn’t on her current list of options there was really no point in thinking about it.
This vampire, the one whose lap she straddled, did seem to be enjoying companionship, though. Enough pondering, she decided. As he said, there were mysteries, not the least of them the way she responded to him.
She closed her eyes and just decided to savor the moment. Tomorrow night would come soon enough.
Chapter 12
The next night brought some news that shook them all up. There had been another inexplicable death.
Just as Jude was getting ready to join Damien and Caro so that he could ward her apartment once again, Chloe stopped them.
“Another guy associated with Pritchett is dead,” she said. “Apparently he was part of the board of directors for the Pritchett business. It’s all over the news tonight, but not because of the connection.”
“Was killed?” Jude asked.
“Let me call Pat,” Caro said. “Maybe she knows something.”
“Terri might be on the scene, too,” Jude remarked. “You call Pat. If you don’t get anything, I’ll call Terri.”
Pat answered her phone on the first ring. “Matthews, Robbery-Homicide.”
“Pat, it’s Caro. We just heard one of Pritchett’s business associates is dead.”
Pat fell silent a moment. “It’s true,” she said finally. “But there’s not a mark on the body. The M.E. is going to have to figure out this one. He was walking into a restaurant with his wife when he collapsed on the street. It could be anything. Absolutely no evidence of foul play, so the case will probably be closed if the M.E. doesn’t find something suspicious. Are you doing all right? The captain is starting to make noises about bringing you back.”
“I’m doing fine and I’m not ready to come back. You tell me, Pat. Do you think this is all unrelated?”
“Coincidence is always possible, but my hackles are saying otherwise. And you didn’t just hear me say that.”
“It won’t pass my lips.”
“Then I’m going to tell you another thing that won’t pass your lips. We found a bookstore owner dead yesterday. And guess whose business card was on her desk.”
Caro froze. “Jenny Besom is dead?” She saw Damien stiffen.
“Apparent heart attack. But pardon me if I find the presence of Messenger’s card there too coincidental. You tell him he may get a visit, although probably not. Cause looks natural. And I’m not going to ask another thing. I need to stay clear of this crazy shit. You know that. Keep your nose clean.”
When she disconnected, Caro relayed the information. Jude immediately pulled out his own phone to call Terri. He hung up not two minutes later. “Too early to tell about the guy, but Besom appears to be an ordinary heart attack.”
Caro, however, had gone into investigator mode. She looked at Chloe. “Did the board say anything yesterday or today about continuing with the demolitions, with Pritchett’s plans?”
“Let me look.” Chloe bent to her computer, tapping rapidly.
Caro looked at Damien. “You said Jenny Besom was being prevented from telling you something.”
He nodded.
“Well, she must have known something, then. We’re running out of time, Damien. I was afraid of this.”
“I know you were, but yesterday you were too weak.”
“Too weak for what?” Chloe asked without looking up. No one answered her.
“I don’t care how awful these men’s plans may seem to some,” Caro said firmly. “It’s wrong to murder. And Jenny Besom didn’t have a damn thing to do with Pritchett’s plans. So she had to have been killed because she knew something.”
“I agree with you,” Damien answered. “This bokor is too dangerous. If he means to go after everyone in any way involved with Pritchett’s business, as well as anyone who figures out what he’s doing, he’ll have a lot of blood on his hands. But mostly, Schatz, I’m concerned that he’s after you. You don’t even have anything to do with this.”
“He must think I do. I was there when Pritchett was murdered.” She turned things around in her head, considering. “He’s changed his method, this bokor. His first murders, of Pritchett and his immediate family, were gruesome beyond belief. It was intended to scare everyone associated with the project. But apparently people haven’t become scared off, so he’s murdering in a more stealthy fashion, trying to make it look natural. And that means he doesn’t intend to stop.”
She remembered only too clearly what had happened on the street yesterday and was fairly certain the newest death had been caused in just the same way. She could barely repress a shudder when she remembered that feeling of cold crawling into her very bones and her inability to draw a breath no matter how hard she tried.
She looked at Jude. “Tell Terri to look for evidence that his breathing was interrupted somehow. Besom’s, too. That’s what was happening to me.”
Jude nodded and pulled out his phone.
She looked at Damien. “Not that this is going to help us solve this or stop it. We need to get to work.”
“I know, Schatz. But this is a time for supreme patience. Everything in it’s time and proper place. Then we go hunting in earnest.”
“We’ve been hunting all along and where has it gotten us? We’re no closer to the bokor.”
“I agree traditional methods haven’t worked. That’s why we’re going to use older methods. No power can be used without leaving traces. None. It rends the fabric between the normal and the paranormal. It leaves a trail. It may not be easy to follow, but I should be in a better position to follow it later. I used to be very good at that.”
“Really?” She lifted an eyebrow, trying to imagine it. “One of your duties?”
“There are always those who seek to pervert power. They have to be dealt with, just like this bokor.”
“What happens when we find him?”
“We’ll have to fight him power for power. Unless you just want to shoot him, which I doubt. It wouldn’t get rid of the elemental he’s loosed, though. It would just leave it directionless.”
“That doesn’t sound good either.”
“Trust me, it’s not. These forces have no conscience. Without direction they can inflict a lot of harm simply because they don’t care. They simply act.”
“Sounds worse than a demon to me,” Jude remarked.
“You can at least argue with a demon,” Damien replied. “Maybe not successfully, but there’s consciousness there. These forces are truly elemental. They exist without any kind of being, despite the writings of Paracelsus. They are the building blocks of this reality, without will of their own unless called on. And once they are called on, unless they are returned to their original state, they function beyond their normal duties often to the detriment of anything they encounter. It’s like starting a volcanic eruption. The volcano doesn’t care what it destroys—it’s a power of nature, doing its work. But what if you were to divert it to wipe out a village? It would keep on in the same direction, heedless of how much it destroys.” He paused. “Did that help clarify?”