Desire After Dark Page 6

  He had not realized how final the changes were that she bestowed upon him, or what the cost would be. In spite of his mother’s pleas, his father had cast him out, calling him a soulless monster, the spawn of the devil. His sisters had looked on him in horror, his brothers had tried to kill him. Angry and confused, he had left home and never returned.

  Since then, he had wandered the earth, selfishly taking what he required without regard for anyone’s needs but his own. He had made love to countless women throughout the centuries but he had loved none of them. They had satisfied his hunger but found no place in his heart.

  He turned his thoughts from his past to the present and the vampire who was preying on the people of Pear Blossom Creek. No real vampire had ever been as cruel and vicious as Count Vlad Dracula Tepes. Known as the Impaler, he’d had a fondness for having people skewered on long stakes, an excruciating death that often took days.

  It was said that he once invited all the poor, sick, and aged to a banquet where he provided them with a lavish feast. When it was over, he asked if there was anything else they desired. Sated for the moment, they said no, at which point Count Dracula left the banquet hall, locked the doors, and set the hall on fire, killing all who were within. It was this infamous count on whom Bram Stoker had based his fictional Dracula.

  But it wasn’t a fictional vampire terrorizing Pear Blossom Creek. The community of vampires was small, the number who still killed their prey smaller still now that both Alexi and Khira had been destroyed. He could count them on one hand—Andrew Bullivant, who liked to prowl Dracula’s castle and never left Romania; Eric Franciscus, who was among the youngest of their kind; Carl Matheson, who killed any and all who crossed his path; and Dimitri Falco, whose victims were always young red-haired women.

  Like Victoria. A sound from within the house had Battista on his feet in an instant, ready to defend her to the death if necessary, but she was only sighing in her sleep. He watched her through the window for a moment, wondering what it was she dreamed of. Judging from the smile on her face, it was pleasant indeed.

  Dissolving into a fine silver mist, he slipped through the narrow crack under the window, then materialized at her side. He looked down at her, the urge to walk in her dreams almost overpowering. To do so would be an invasion of her mind, a betrayal of what little trust she had in him.

  His gaze moved over her. How beautiful she was! Her hair was the red of autumn leaves, tempting his touch though he dared not succumb. Her skin was smooth and clear, her lashes thick where they rested on her cheeks. He watched the rise and fall of her breasts beneath the thin blanket and again felt the urge to reach out and touch her. Again, he restrained himself. He would not violate her while she slept.

  He felt his heart, that cold dead organ in his chest, beat for the first time in centuries when, with a sigh, she smiled and murmured his name.

  Vicki woke feeling embarrassed without quite knowing why, and then she remembered her dream. The one she’d had Wednesday night had been awful, the worst sort of nightmare, but this one had been wonderful. She had been walking on the beach at night. Moonlight had glistened like streaks of liquid silver on the water. The sand had been warm and soft beneath her bare feet. The song of the ocean had been like a lullaby. She had walked for what seemed like miles with only the moon and the sea for company when suddenly he had been there. He had been dressed in black, as always, his hair gilded by the moonlight, his eyes as blue and deep as the depths of the ocean. He had waited for her to draw near. As she approached, he had removed his cloak and spread it on the shore, then offered her his hand. She had taken it without fear, offered no resistance as he drew her down on his cloak. She had welcomed his kiss, her eyes closing in surrender, her body pliable in his knowing hands. He had made love to her all through the night, his hands caressing her, his voice joining with the lyrical ebb and flow of the waves, blending into a symphony that seduced her in both mind and body. She had given herself to him without restraint, became a part of him, wedded to him as the sea was bound to the sand and the moon to the tide, forever joined together, never to be parted…

  Smiling, Vicki sat up and took a deep breath and in so doing, she breathed in his scent. But it was no dream. Antonio had been here, in her bedroom, while she slept.

  The thought sent a jolt of fear through her, chasing away the pleasant afterglow of her dream. How had he gotten into her room? All the doors and windows had been locked when she went to bed. She knew, because she had checked them all twice.

  Rising, she checked them all again, starting with the window in her room. All were locked. None had been tampered with as far as she could see.

  Maybe she was imagining things. But no, she could still smell his scent in her room. She was fully awake now. She wasn’t imagining anything. It gave her a decidedly uneasy feeling to know that someone had been in her house, in her bedroom, while she slept.

  She was going to have a serious talk with Mr. Antonio Battista when she saw him again!

  The opportunity came sooner than she expected. She was about to leave for work when he appeared on her doorstep. Dressed in black, as always. She wondered what kind of statement he was trying to make under all that black leather and cloth.

  “Good evening, Victoria.”

  Such a formal greeting, she thought. Sometimes he sounded like some old-world count. “What brings you here?”

  He lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “I came to accompany you to work.”

  “Oh. Well, I’m glad you’re here. We need to talk.” She took a step backward and opened the screen door. “Come in.”

  He paused a moment, then stepped across the threshold and into the living room.

  “What do you wish to talk about?” he asked.

  “Last night.” She dropped her handbag and coat on a chair, then turned to face him, her arms crossed over her breasts.

  “What about last night?”

  “You were in my room while I was sleeping.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, you admit it! What were you doing there? How did you get in? All the doors and windows were locked.”

  “I meant you no harm, my sweet one, I only wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be all right?” she asked, then realized how stupid that sounded. There was a murderer running loose, a murderer who preyed on redheads. Maybe it wasn’t such a stupid question, she thought. After all, none of the women had been killed in their homes.

  “Do you wish me to apologize for worrying about you?” he asked with a wry smile.

  “Yes. No. I don’t know, but I want your promise that you won’t come into my house again unless I invite you.”

  He bowed his head in acquiescence. “As you wish.”

  “You never told me how you got in.”

  “A trick of the trade, you might say.”

  She raised one brow. “What trade is that? Don’t tell me you’re a cat burglar.”

  He laughed softly. “No.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Perhaps I shall tell you sometime.”

  “There’s something else I’d like to know.”

  “You are full of questions this evening.”

  “Yeah, well…” She hesitated. Maybe asking wasn’t such a good idea, but she had to know.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.

  “I saw you with Sharlene and that other woman, and…Did you know them?”

  “That is not what you want to ask,” he chided softly. “You want to know why I was with them.”

  “Yes.”

  “I walked them home, nothing more.”

  “Why?”

  “You still think I might have killed them?”

  “No, but…”

  “I knew they were in danger. I walked them home and warned them against opening their doors to strangers.”

  “You were a stranger.”

  He smiled faintly. “A
stranger, yes, but not a murderer of young women.”

  She glanced at the clock over the mantel. “I’ve got to go. I’m going to be late for work.”

  She was picking up her handbag when Antonio said, “Tom Duncan.”

  “What?”

  “The man you were with last night. What did he want?”

  “I don’t see as how that’s any of your concern.”

  He took a step forward. Though his expression didn’t change, he seemed suddenly menacing. “What did he want?”

  “Dinner, of course,” she retorted. “Why else do people come into a diner? Well, except for you.”

  He clenched his hands at his sides. “There is more, something you are not telling me.”

  “He asked me for a date, not that it’s any of your business.”

  He stared at her.

  “What’s the matter? Is it so hard to believe that someone would want to date me?”

  Battista shook his head. “No, of course not.” He didn’t think the man ever thought of anything but destroying the Undead, but the vampire hunter had actually asked Victoria for a date. Battista knew hunters rarely married. It had never occurred to him that they might date from time to time. “Are you going out with him?”

  “I’ve really got to go.”

  “Yes, of course.” His face a hard mask, he turned and stalked out the door.

  Grabbing her coat, she followed him out of the house, locking the door behind her.

  She could feel him watching her as she unlocked her car door, tossed her coat into the backseat, and then slid behind the wheel.

  She stared at him for a moment before she started the car and pulled out of the driveway.

  He waited until she was out of sight, then dissolved into mist and followed her to the diner.

  Chapter 9

  Vicki couldn’t help it. She kept glancing over her shoulder as she walked from her car to the diner. She had the oddest feeling that she was being followed but there was no one behind her, at least no one she could see.

  She frowned, remembering how Antonio seemed to walk without making a sound. But he wasn’t invisible, even if his footsteps didn’t make any noise.

  With a shake of her head, she went in the back door. She left her coat and her handbag in her locker, put on a clean apron, grabbed her pad, and went to relieve Gladys.

  She nodded at Bobbie Sue, noting that there were only a few customers in the diner. But that was normal for this time of night.

  Things picked up as the night wore on. It was about eight o’clock when Tom Duncan sat down at table four.

  “Hi,” she said. “Steak again?”

  He shook his head. “No, I think I’ll try something else. What do you recommend?”

  “The shrimp looks good.”

  He tapped one finger on the table. “How about the meat loaf?”

  “I’d stick with the shrimp if I were you.”

  “All right, shrimp it is.”

  “Do you want rice or fries with that?”

  “Fries.”

  She jotted it down. “Coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  “Be right back.”

  She brought him a cup of coffee but she didn’t have time to stay and chat. Saturday nights were always busy. She saw Maddy and Rex sharing a hot fudge sundae and smiled. Two dates in less than a week. Perhaps there would be a wedding soon.

  She was clearing table two when she happened to glance out the window. She was startled to see Antonio looking back at her through the glass. At least she thought it was Antonio. Before she could be sure, he was gone.

  With a shake of her head, she went back to clearing the table.

  Tom left a few minutes later, but only after reaffirming their date for Sunday night.

  The rest of the evening passed quickly. It was half an hour before closing time when Vicki saw Antonio enter the diner. All the booths and tables in her section were full. But then a strange thing happened. She saw Antonio stare at Bert Summers, who was sitting at a booth in the back. Bert hadn’t even finished his pie and coffee when he dropped a ten dollar bill on the table and headed for the door. Looking faintly smug, Antonio took the booth Bert had vacated.

  Curious and strangely annoyed, she went to his table. “What did you do?”

  “Do?”

  She gestured at Bert, who was just walking out the door, then pointed at his barely touched plate. “Why did he leave so abruptly?”

  “Maybe he remembered an appointment.”

  “You did something to him. I saw you.”

  “What did you see?”

  “I don’t know. You looked at him and all of a sudden he just got up and left without even finishing his order.”

  “Perhaps he was no longer hungry?” Antonio replied, his face inscrutable.

  “Why didn’t you just take one of the empty tables?”

  He lifted one brow. “Why do you think?”

  She pursed her lips, her brow furrowed in thought. Something wasn’t right here, but what? “Was that you outside the window earlier tonight?”

  He nodded.

  “What were you doing out there?”

  “Nothing, why? Is there something else you wish to accuse me of?”

  “No, of course not,” she said, feeling properly chastised. “I’m sorry.” Looking up, she saw Gus watching her. “You’ll have to order something.”

  “Coffee.”

  With a nod, she left the table.

  At closing time, the diner was empty save for Antonio, who continued to sit at the booth in the back corner, his coffee untouched.

  “What’s with him?” Bobbie Sue asked, coming up beside Vicki. “He comes in here practically every night and never eats anything.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I think he’s kind of creepy, you know?”

  Vicki shrugged. “He seems nice enough.”

  “If you say so.” Bobbie Sue removed her apron and wadded it into a ball. “I’m going over to the Blue Horse for a while. I told Steve I’d meet him there. Do you want to come along?”

  Vicki considered that for a moment. The Blue Horse Tavern was a dive located on the outskirts of town. They catered mostly to the young crowd who wanted to dance and drink a few beers but didn’t want to make the trip into one of the bigger cities. She had received her first kiss on the dance floor at the Blue Horse.

  “Sure,” Vicki said.

  “No sense taking two cars,” Bobbie Sue said. “Why don’t you go with me?”

  “All right.” Vicki glanced at Antonio, not surprised to find that he was watching her. “Just let me finish cleaning up.”

  As she approached his booth, Battista stood and dropped a twenty dollar bill on the table.

  “You’re a very generous tipper,” Vicki remarked as she cleared the table.

  “I like the service.”

  “Thank you. Good night.”

  With a nod, he turned and left the diner.

  The Blue Horse was in full swing when Vicki followed Bobbie Sue inside. The lights were low, the music loud, the air thick with the combined smells of perfume and perspiration, lust and alcohol.

  They made their way to the bar, where Bobbie Sue ordered a cosmopolitan and Vicki ordered a strawberry margarita. As she sipped her drink, Vicki nodded at several people that she recognized.

  “Look, there’s Linda Fay,” Bobbie Sue said, pointing at a brunette who, unfortunately, had a long face that resembled a horse’s. “She always was a homely thing, bless her heart.”

  Vicki nodded sympathetically. A few minutes later, Bobbie Sue went to dance with Steve Mitchell. Steve was a handsome young man who’d had a crush on Bobbie Sue ever since high school. Unfortunately, Bobbie Sue didn’t see him as anything but a good friend.

  A moment later, a good-looking guy strolled up to the bar and asked Vicki if she wanted to dance. They were making the usual small talk when Vicki felt a sudden chill. She glanced over her shoulder, her gaze drawn to a man standing at the e
nd of the bar. He was tall and slender, with slicked-back blond hair. He wore a black turtleneck sweater and black slacks with a sharp crease.

  Her heart skipped a beat when he pushed away from the wall. No, she thought, please don’t let him ask me to dance. But even as the thought rose in her mind he was skirting the dance floor, walking toward her.

  Her partner let her go with a smile and a murmured, “see you later,” and then the stranger was taking her in his arms. He held her tightly, his hands cold on hers. This close, she could see that his eyes were a rusty yellow, like the color of dead leaves.

  “So,” he said, “do you come here often?”

  The sound of his voice sent a shiver of unease down her spine. “No,” she lied. “Do you?”

  “From time to time.” Releasing her hand, he reached out to stroke her hair. “Lovely,” he said. “Is it your natural shade?”

  She stared at him, remembering that Duncan had asked her that very same question. “No,” she lied. “No, it’s dyed.”

  Lifting a lock of her hair, he sniffed it. “I think not.”

  “I have to go.” She twisted out of his grasp and hurried toward the bar where Bobbie Sue was chatting with Steve.

  “Hey, girlfriend,” Bobbie Sue said, smiling.

  “Bobbie Sue, we need to go. Now.”

  “Why?”

  “Please, Bobbie Sue, take me home.”

  “Sure, hon.” Bobbie Sue kissed Steve’s cheek. “Catch ya later, sugar.”

  “Come on!” Vicki grabbed Bobbie Sue’s hand and practically dragged her out of the tavern.

  “Vicki, slow down! What’s with you?”

  “That man in there. The one I was dancing with. The blond…I…He gave me the creeps.”

  “Is that all?”

  “No! I think”—she glanced nervously over her shoulder as Bobbie Sue unlocked the car doors—” I think he might be the murderer.”