De Vries took a step back. “Miss Harlan, my name is Martin de Vries, and I know what has happened to Warren. You and I need to talk.”
A look of deep suspicion took its place on her fine-boned features. “What have you done to Warren?”
De Vries smiled. “I have done nothing to him. But I know what will happen to him if I don’t help him. All I’m asking for is a moment of your time.”
Rachel shook her head. “Why would anyone want to harm Warren? He hasn’t done anything.”
De Vries laughed. “Of course he hasn’t. People want to do things to him because of who he is, not because of what he does.”
Again, her eyes shifted from the left to the right. “You’re crazy. Warren is a good guy who spends all his time trying to be an artist. Why would anyone want to hurt him for that?”
Suddenly it dawned on de Vries. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
De Vries let a slow, tired laugh escape his lips. “I should have guessed. You have no clue who Warren D’imato really is.”
Rachel began to slowly edge to the left, and her intentions were clear to de Vries. If she could vault the low railing, she could hit the street running, maybe get away. “Now I know you’re crazy. Warren’s last name is Storey, not D’imato.”
De Vries shook his head. “Miss Harlan. First off, let me clear up something for you. Even if you could jump over the rail without breaking an ankle in those shoes, it would be a simple task for me to catch you before you took more than a step. I suggest we go inside before others take too much of an interest in this meeting.”
Rachel laughed, and it was a rasping, ugly sound. “Yeah, right. Even if I could open the door, you think I’m insane? You get me in there, and I’m never coming out alive.”
De Vries moved again, faster than the normal eye could follow, and he watched as Rachel stifled a scream when he seemed to suddenly appear, his nose just millimeters from her own. She shrank back against the door as if she were trying to worm her way through its molecules.
“Believe me, Miss Harlan, if harming you had been my intention, you would never have seen me, and my breathing as I drained the life out of you would have been the last sound you ever heard. I don’t mean to frighten you, but time is very short, and there is much you need to know.”
De Vries reached out with his left hand and stroked the new lock on the door. Once, twice, and on the third pass, he felt the lock give way. The door swung inward, and Rachel would have fallen to the floor if de Vries hadn’t caught her.
He picked her up gingerly, and walked her into the doss, gently kicking the door closed behind him. He set her on the futon, then thumbed the switch for the small lamp on the work table.
He turned and Rachel gasped. “What… what are you?” De Vries smiled, feeling his curved incisors dimpling his bottom lip. “I think you know exactly what I am, Miss Harlan, but for now, what you must understand is that I am the only friend you have in the world. The only person who is in a position to help Warren.”
Rachel struggled to sit upright, and after a moment she made it. “What is going on?”
De Vries opened his duster and pulled out his pack of Selects. He offered her one, and she took it with a trembling hand. He lit it for her and then one for himself. Taking a deep drag, he let the smoke drift out of his nostrils. “Let’s take things one step at a time. If I had known your ignorance of even the basic facts involved in your situation, I might have approached you somewhat differently, but there you have it.”
Rachel looked at the cigarette in her hand as if she couldn’t remember how it had gotten there. Finally, she put it to her lips and took a long pull, holding the smoke as if it was the very air of life in her lungs. Finally she exhaled, and when she spoke, her voice had calmed considerably. “All right, I don’t accept this, but because this is my delusional episode, I’ll play along. You’re a vampire. Am I correct in assuming that?”
De Vries smiled and nodded.
“Okay, now that I’m sure I’ve fallen over the deep end, just go ahead and lay it on me. What have you got to do with Warren, and why did you call him by the wrong name?”
De Vries was silent for a moment. “Miss Harlan, there are things I wish I could spare you, but I want you to listen to everything I have to say and to keep an open mind. The man you know as Warren Storey, a very talented artist, is actually Warren D’imato, and he is something else entirely.”
Rachel sighed. “Why would he lie?”
Once again, de Vries was surprised. “You aren’t familiar with the name D’imato?”
She shrugged. “Should I be?”
De Vries sat next to her and was impressed when she didn’t shrink away from him. “This is going to seem a bit far-fetched to you, but your Warren is a very rich man and the son of a powerful corporate honcho. He is also the nephew of Marco D’imato, who is head of the D’imato family. The D’imatos are sole owners of Fratellanza, Inc., a provider of private security in Seattle and other cities across UCAS. They’re not Knight Errant by any stretch of the imagination. but that hasn’t prevented them from making Fratellanza immensely profitable. Warren is a rich, rich man.”
Rachel laughed “Far-fetched? That’s a huge understatement. You must be mistaken.”
“Miss Harlan, understand this, I’m neither mistaken, nor crazy. It’s obvious that Warren has been hiding these facts from you. Most likely in an effort to shield you from a very ugly situation.”
“What situation?” She took another drag on her cigarette, and de Vries noticed that the slight tremble had returned to her hand.
“You must have heard something about the mob war that went on here in Seattle? The trid was full of it.”
She sat up straight. “Are you trying to tell me Warren was involved in alt that bloodshed? You really are crazy.”
De Vries shook his head. “No.” He stood, and walked to the center of the room. “One of the reasons I’m here is that I’ve done some checking on your Warren D’imato. He wasn’t an easy nut to crack, because his self-extraction and cover were immaculately pulled off. The only advantage I had was in knowing both identities.”
De Vries shook his head again. “No, even though Fratellanza did phenomenal business during the recent mob infighting, Warren was not personally involved. In fact, he has tried to isolate himself from the family business for some time. His uncle and his father have permitted him to disguise his identity and live apart from it all. However, I would guess that he was trying to protect you from learning things that would endanger your life.”
De Vries leaned over, stubbed out his cigarette, and pulled the holopics from his pocket. “Warren attended a funeral yesterday. Were you aware of that?”
Rachel nodded, looking at the pics in de Vries’ hand as if be were holding a viper. As if she knew what was coming and wished to avoid any proof that what de Vries said was the truth.
“Here, take a look at this.” He handed her the top picture. one of Warren is his sharkskin suit.
Rachel took it, looked at it, and flipped it onto futon between them. “So Warren owns a nice suit, so what?”
De Vries showed her the rest of the pics, explaining each one. He finished up with a close-up of Marco D’imato smiling. “And this is his uncle, the man who had Warren kidnapped.”
Rachel shuddered visibly at the look of animal cunning on that ravaged face. “Is he like you?”
De Vries took the holopic back and placed the bundle of them in his pocket. “Yes, and no. I am simply a creature of the night. He is an abomination, even compared to my kind. He plans to do to Warren what he has done to himself. If he succeeds, Warren will no longer be human, will no longer be the man you love. Do you understand this?”
Rachel slumped over, and put her head in her hands.