“Someone tried to kill her a couple of months back,” Brodrick said, watching her face carefully. “Did they tell you that? Did they mention that when the attempt was made, two other members of the band were shot also? This group can be dangerous to be around.”
She went still inside. He was telling the truth; she could feel it. But he had deliberately told her in the quiet solitude of these woods to shock her, to see if he could shake her up. Tempest inhaled, taking in fresh air, pushing out the terrible fear. She began to move in the direction of the current even as she gave a casual shrug. “It has nothing to do with me. I fix cars, that’s all. You’re probably in as much danger as I am if someone is trying to hurt Desari and you’re always hanging around.”
She glanced up at the sky. It was a clear, beautiful day, clouds like cotton balls floating serenely high above them. “It’s probably some crazed fan. You know the type. Desari is sexy and beautiful. She draws all kinds of attention. Sometimes so much attention isn’t a good thing.” Some of nature’s tranquillity seeped into her mind.
Or was it Darius again? He was far from her; she couldn’t touch him even when her mind, of its own accord, reached out to find his. She met only blankness, yet she sensed he was helping her. She could feel something of his characteristic calm entering her and helping her toward the stillness that better attuned her to nature.
Brodrick was stalking her along the edge of the stream, careful to keep his wingtips dry. “More likely someone knows what they are.” His eyes bored into her. “You were warning me, weren’t you, trying to tell me if I stayed around here I could get hurt?”
“Where did you get an idea like that?” Tempest wished she’d thought of it. She was allowing him to intimidate her, when maybe he was just as scared. “I don’t read slimy tabloids, Brodrick, so maybe you should tell me what you’re looking for. I take it you plan to use those pictures of me. I’m not a celebrity, and, in any case, what would be the point? So I prefer animals to people. I have an affinity for them. You print that, and all you’ll do is maybe lose me my job. How is that going to help you accomplish whatever it is you want?”
Brodrick was studying her. She was standing with the sun behind her, so he didn’t spot right away the love bite on her neck. When he did, he made a strangled sound and scrambled backward, hastily reaching inside the neckline of his shirt to drag out a silver cross. He held it out in front of him, facing her.
Tempest stared at it a moment without comprehension. Then, as the significance sank in, she burst out laughing. “What are you doing, you idiot? You’re nuts! You really believe the junk you print, don’t you?”
“You’re one of them. You bear the mark of the beast. You’re his servant now,” he accused hysterically.
The sun shining on the silver glared into her eyes.
Tempest touched her neck with her fingertips. “Who is
he?
What beast? I’m beginning to think you’re insane. My boyfriend was playing around and gave me a hickey. What did you think it was?”
“They’re vampires, the lot of them,” Brodrick said. “Why do you think they sleep during the day?”
Tempest laughed softly. “Is that why there’s so many coffins in the bus? Wow. I never thought they were vampires.”
Brodrick swore angrily, furious that she would make fun of him. “You won’t be laughing at me when I prove it to the world. We’re on to them. We have been for some time. We’re traced them over the last fifty years, and they haven’t aged a bit.”
“Who are ‘we’? And you have proof of this?” Her heart was in her throat, but she forced the taunting grin to remain on her face. “You don’t look fifty yourself, Brodrick, so maybe you’re one of them, too.”
“Don’t laugh at me,” he hissed, furious. “We’re a society of concerned citizens trying to save the world from these demons. We put ourselves at great risk. Some of our people were killed in Europe, you know—martyrs for our great cause. We can’t let vampires continue to endanger mankind.”
Her eyes widened. She was looking at an honest-to-God fanatic, doubtless somehow behind the effort to kill Desari. “Mr. Brodrick.” She tried to be reasonable. “You can’t actually believe what you’re saying. I know these people. They’re hardly vampires; they’re just a little eccentric. They travel around singing like most bands do. Darius cooked me vegetable soup the other day. Desari has a reflection in the mirror—I’ve seen it myself. And I was only kidding about the coffins. The bus has every luxury, including a sleeping area. Please believe me, these are just talented people trying to make a living.”
“I saw the mark on you. They use humans. No one has seen them out in the sun. I know I’m right. We almost had them the last time. And what happened to our best marksmen—the ones we sent out to destroy them? They disappeared without a trace. How did Desari escape? How did she live with several bullets put into her? Tell me that. They claim she went to the hospital, and a private doctor took care of her. Ha!”
“That’s easy enough to check on.”
“The doctor says she was there. So do three nurses and a few techs, but no one else. A famous singer in their hospital and most of the staff can’t remember it? And I didn’t find one surgical nurse who knew a thing about it. They claimed everyone on the operating team was a specialist brought in from the outside.”
“The Dark Troubadours are wealthy, Brodrick. Wealthy people do things like that. But are you openly saying you were part of an attempt on Desari’s life?” The admission frightened her; she had the feeling he wouldn’t bother to confess unless he planned to get rid of her, too. For the first time she was afraid for her life. Did he have a gun? It was entirely possible. Worse, she believed Brodrick was insane. No one in his right mind would believe in vampires taking over humankind. She’d always believed vampires to be myth—at least until she saw Darius in action. This man was basing his notions on mere foolishness and hoary old legends.
It seemed Darius was far more trustworthy than any human she had met as yet. Not that that did her much good right now, wherever he was. Oh, Lord, she didn’t even want to know where he was. What if he really slept in a coffin? The idea gave her the willies. He had mentioned going to ground. What did he mean by that?
Don’t think about it, Tempest. That will make you as crazy as this nutcase. Keep focused here. Stay with what’s important.
Matt Brodrick was watching her, his eyes narrowed and mean. “I know they need human servants to watch over them during the day. That’s what you are. Where are they?”
“You need help, Brodrick. Seriously, you need intense therapy.” She wondered if Darius knew the reporter had been involved in the attempt on Desari’s life.
“You’re one of them,” Brodrick accused her again. “You help me find them while they’re sleeping, or I’ll have to destroy you.”
Tempest was wading faster downstream while Brodrick kept pace along the bank. Her heart seemed to be racing as fast as the water itself. “The truth is, you’ve told me too much already, Brodrick. You have no other choice but to kill me. I’m not about to tell you where Darius and Desari or the other members of the band are, but they aren’t in coffins, and I’m not about to help you put them there.”
His lip drew back in an ugly snarl. “Did you know one of the band members disappeared some months ago? I think they killed him. He probably wasn’t one of them, and they were just using him for blood until he ran dry.”
“You have a sick mind, Brodrick.” Tempest was looking around frantically for a way to get free of him. They were so secluded, and she was certain she had left the perimeter of safety Darius was always on her about. If she ever got out of this mess, he’d likely give her a lecture she’d never forget.
She sent her mind seeking into the forest, the sky, calling on the aid of the animals in the general vicinity, needing information, an impression of a hiding place nearby. Brodrick was mumbling to himself, angry with her for not doing as he wished. Very slowly, he withdrew a small revolver. “I think you’d better reconsider.”