Grave Expectations - Jess Vandermire 4 Read online

  “Maybe we should go to the station. Discuss what you know about Fisk,” Britt said, walking toward them.

  But before he could get close, the two men turned tail and ran. Britt let them go. He had more important things on his mind right now. Like, what was Fisk up to? With his interest piqued, he waited inside a recessed doorway, just out of sight. If he didn’t see anything in the next hour, he’d leave and find Jess.

  Ten minutes later, his breath stalled in his throat. Two definite vampires had just entered the building. Not the street variety of vampire, either. These vamps were well-dressed, obviously affluent and older than any vamps he’d ever seen before.

  Why would they go into an evangelist’s building? Other than Jess, vampires and religion didn’t exactly mesh—but it might explain the late night office hours.

  Britt lowered his head and scrounged for a goddamned idea about what was going on.

  He intended to find out one way or another.

  Chapter Three

  MALCOLM FISK massaged his temples. Who’d told John Brittain about him? And, where the hell had he come from? There shouldn’t be another Grigoroi in this city, or anywhere, for that matter.

  Irritated, and not sure what to do about Brittain, he shooed his rotund assistant out of his office before striding toward the vault he kept hidden behind a large painting on the wall. With unsteady hands, he pulled out the ancient dagger safely ensconced inside a velvet-lined box. He held the weight of it in his hands, turning it over and over until the warmth of the metal sent a honed sense of well-being through him—centering him.

  Time sped by while he held the blade. He heard the clock on his mantel chiming quarter past the hour before he had the strength to return it to its case in his safe and head for the conference room.

  He barely glanced down the hall, where a line of desperate, low-rent psychopathic vampires waited for their cure. He probably should move them downstairs, but he liked to be able to maneuver from one group to another with ease. Still, it might not be a good idea to have his high rollers on the same floor with the scum.

  Treating the damned made him a ton of money, but sooner or later, they’d realize the effects didn’t last and they’d been ripped off. In fact, he chose not to overexert himself on the riffraff, so their illusion of being repaired was tenuous at best.

  God, he was awful. He grinned.

  The olde ones wouldn’t appreciate being fucked with, though. They wanted to be healed, for real. They were the ones with vast knowledge. They were smart, and he had to take a different approach with them. And hell, who knew, maybe he could actually do it?

  “The Europeans are waiting,” Brewster said, in the hall outside the boardroom. His aide might weigh nearly three hundred pounds, but he talked like a teenage girl.

  “How many are there?”

  “Three.” An avaricious grin spread across Brewster’s meaty jowls. “Word is spreading, Leader. Last week, one vampire with unlimited cash contacted me by phone, and now there are three, here in person. Europeans, too. Old stock. We’re on the cusp of hitting it very big.”

  Fisk’s gut twinged, and he narrowed his gaze on Brewster. We? His aide thought he’d get a piece of this pie. Not likely.

  Fisk took a moment to gather himself before he stepped inside. The olde vampires were cunning, and he’d have to be very careful about what he promised them, or they’d rip his heart out and eat it. They’d sense bullshit a mile off.

  What they didn’t realize was that their business transaction with him would become a symbiotic relationship—he’d screw them over, and they’d give him money. If they turned on him, he could wipe them off the face of the planet with his handy-dandy blue light source that he’d gained from the blade. But that’d be a last resort. He couldn’t afford to kill his cash cows.

  First and foremost, he had to align himself very carefully with the hierarchy. A contingent of olde vampires running around in the daylight could change the world markets. These vamps held major shares in almost every Fortune 500 company on the planet, as well as many other companies that weren’t quite so illustrious. Their pockets were extremely deep, and they’d be very generous if he actually managed to give them what they wanted. There was no reason why he couldn’t do it. He was powerful, right? He’d just never tried it before.

  Those damned monks had been trying to have him locked away since he began this lucrative endeavor. Especially Dom. He laughed. Good luck to them. He was surrounded by the superhuman undead, who wanted him to stay alive for their own personal reasons. And they had their own issues with the clergy.

  Calculating, cold faces turned on him when he entered the room.

  “Hello gentlemen,” he said. He hadn’t expected three of them at once. No matter his abilities, dread slivered up his spine. “What can I do for you?”

  “We want to walk in daylight.” The most ancient vampire he’d ever seen spoke first. The vamp’s skin had a sallow gray cast, and the wrinkles reminded him of the dried apple faces he’d made as a child, only a lot more terrifying.

  They wanted him to cure them. He liked the sound of that. He imagined money pouring into his coffers, and these vamps had ancient, unlimited reserves. Gold reserves, which, if introduced to the world today, would most likely take down the world’s economies. Fisk could hardly wait.

  BRITT CALLED JESS’S apartment first. No answer on the landline. She wasn’t there and she wasn’t answering her cell phone. He’d bet she’d gone to the rectory. She always went there when she needed to feel a sense of security. When he arrived, his worry decelerated just a smidge. Yeah, he’d bet money Jess was here. When he opened the rectory door, familiar voices murmured down the hall inside.

  Regent was home. Britt bit back a foolish grin because he missed the old priest almost as much as Jess had. He strode down the hall, and stepped into Regent’s office, offering a wide smile to welcome his friend home.

  His smile froze.

  A stranger sat behind Regent’s desk. “I thought I heard … ?”

  “Finally,” Jess said from across the room. “I was starting to get worried about you.”

  He glanced from her to the man behind Regent’s desk and back again. “You know I can look after myself, babe. But I did find a little information,” he said, looking suspiciously at the stranger. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

  The middle-aged man rose from the old priest’s chair and held out a hand. “Britt, I’ve missed you, son.”

  Britt stared at the man’s proffered hand. There’d been something familiar about him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “I’m sorry? I don’t think we’ve met.”

  “It’s me—Regent.”

  Britt glanced at Jess for verification. She shrugged and nodded. “Believe it or not, it’s Regent.”

  Britt sank onto the leather sofa without shaking the man’s hand.

  “No way,” he said. And he couldn’t believe Jess fell for it. This guy didn’t even look like Regent—at least, not exactly.

  “After everything that’s happened to you and Jess, I don’t see why you won’t believe this is, at least, possible,” the man said.

  “He does have a point,” Jess said, getting up and sitting beside Britt. He took her familiar smooth, cold hand in his. She looked worn out. Worse, he knew her state of health was completely attributable to him. He felt like shit.

  “Who is he?” he asked under his breath. Even the guy’s bone structure was different. No way could surgery make a seventy-two-year-old look forty. Hell, the change was obvious right down to the firm muscle tone in his arms, and smooth skin in his hands.

  “Oh, it’s Regent all right. His prayers made me a believer,” she said.

  “Can’t be. He doesn’t even look like Regent.” The muscles in the back of Britt’s neck tightened.

  “When I look at myself in the mirror, I see a stranger, too. But it’s me, Britt. They didn’t change who I am on the inside,” the man said.

  “Who are they?�
�� he asked.

  “Good question. I’m still not exactly sure. I was told the Vatican had requested an audience, but when I arrived, I was whisked off to some out-of-the-way part of the city. I have the feeling they’re only slightly associated with the church.”

  “But, why?” Britt squeezed Jess’s hand. “Why do this to you?”

  Regent shook his head. “I’ll find out soon. I was told to wait here for instructions, and not to allow anyone else entry into the rectory after tomorrow.”

  Jess inhaled sharply. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “Well, if they are affiliated with the church, technically, this building belongs to them, and I can’t turn them away. But there’s another point that we must consider. They have resources that we might not be able to contend with. Look at me. What kind of group has this kind of technology, and what else do they have access to? Do we have the ability to stop them, even if we wanted to?”

  Britt stared at the man who claimed to be Regent. Besides having Jess’s approval, there was something familiar about his eyes, and a gut feeling Britt couldn’t shake told him the truth. “It’s really him, isn’t it?” he said.

  “Yeah, he’s my baby brother. Hard to get used to, though.”

  Regent nodded. “You think it’s hard for you.” He laughed. “I’m the one who’s seeing a stranger in the mirror every time I look at myself.”

  “Were your abilities to help Jess stronger when you were younger, Regent?” Britt asked suddenly.

  “Pardon?”

  “I mean your ability to pray and keep her strong.”

  “One would think a person’s prayers would grow stronger with age, not less potent,” he said, but his words wandered off and he looked at Jess for confirmation.

  Her hands went slack on her lap.

  “Jess?” Regent said.

  She chewed on her bottom lip and didn’t meet either of their gazes.

  “Jess?” Regent asked again. “Was I getting less able to save your soul as I got older, dear?”

  She inhaled long and deep, and held air in her lungs for what seemed like forever. Sometimes, Britt forgot she didn’t have to breathe at all.

  “Sorry to tell you this, but your prayers weren’t as strong as they were when you were younger. But a few minutes ago—wow! I’m feeling much better.”

  Regent jumped to his feet and started pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. It was trademark body language for her brother. “Why didn’t you tell me, dearest? I could have prayed longer—harder.”

  “That’s exactly why I didn’t say anything. It was wearing you down. I didn’t want to do that to you.”

  “Oh, Jess.” He shook his head.

  “Tell me. Did this happen to you against your will?” she asked.

  “Not exactly,” he said. “I was given the choice. Although, to be honest, I didn’t really believe they were going to be able to accomplish this. But, they desperately wanted me to agree.”

  “Who are they?” Britt asked again.

  “I’m not positive, but I have an idea. And, when I’m done with this task, I’ll be free to focus all my abilities on you again,” he said, looking at Jess softly. “If I get to stay young, that is. Who knows how long it’ll last.”

  Britt felt like shit. Whereas Regent had again done everything possible to save his sister, Britt had forgotten to pray for her the last few days. What the hell was wrong with him?

  “What will happen to you if you revert back to your real age? Will your body be strong enough to take it?” Jess asked, concern etched into the usual cool façade of her face.

  “I may be old, but I’ve kept myself fit,” Regent said, puffing himself up and stretching his shoulders back.

  “I’m staying here with you,” she said, in an uncharacteristically wobbly voice.

  “You can’t. No one else can be here. You won’t be allowed back until it’s over,” Regent said.

  “I don’t like the sound of that. I won’t agree to it,” she said.

  Britt gritted his teeth. He didn’t like where this was going. Jess might lose control if she hadn’t received enough prayers, thanks to him. What an asshole he’d been.

  “You don’t have a choice, dearest,” Regent said in a practiced soothing voice. “Promise me you’ll stay away.”

  “Only if you tell me the truth. Are you in danger?” she asked, staring into his eyes.

  His gaze shifted away. “No, of course not. I’ll be perfectly fine.”

  “I can’t agree to this. I’m worried for you. I need to know you’re going to be okay,” she said, fisting her hands at her sides while Britt tried to think of a way to help her through this.

  Touching her right now would probably not be good. He’d wait. But he’d be there for her, if and when she needed him, and he damned well wouldn’t forget her prayers again—ever.

  “You must agree, dear. We’ll get through this, just like we’ve always gotten through all of our challenges.”

  “You seem to forget that we’ve always done that together, dear brother.”

  “I haven’t forgotten. I know you can handle this separation. And, if I need you, I’ll text. I promise.”

  “And if you aren’t able to text?” she asked.

  “I will be. I’ll text every night before I go to bed. Just one word: ‘Okay.’”

  “What if they won’t let you?” Britt asked.

  Regent pursed his lips. “Either they let me or I won’t cooperate.” The phone started ringing. “You both need to go,” he said, before picking up the receiver. “Now!”

  Jess balked when Britt got up to go. She practically dug her heels into the carpet. Britt took the chance that she wouldn’t tear him a new one and enveloped her hand in his before leading her to the front door. Luckily, it worked. Because otherwise, he had no fricking idea what he would have done.

  The last thing they heard was Regent saying, “Of course I’m alone.”

  He didn’t have a good feeling about this… .

  Chapter Four

  WHILE BRITT WATCHED Jess pace back and forth, practically wearing a path into the white ultra-plush carpet in her penthouse, his mind had the audacity to wander into dangerous territory. Not his fault—that leather getup she was wearing never failed to hike his blood pressure and make him think of carnal pleasures.

  It wasn’t a stretch to imagine the two of them on that carpet in front of the gas fireplace. His fantasy included her voluptuous, wanton, and willing body naked against the stark white of the carpet.

  “Britt?”

  Damn. No doubt, her exceptional hearing picked up the sound of his accelerated heartbeat. It wouldn’t take much to tip her off to the fact that he wanted her in the worst way. Needed her—but couldn’t have her.

  Suddenly, his head buzzed and he felt odd. Just enough to smack him back to reality. He shouldn’t be anywhere near Jess, let alone considering being intimate with her. He was probably more dangerous to her than any of her worst enemies.

  His throat felt like it had partially closed off, and he swallowed hard.

  She’d stopped pacing, and her hungry expression ripped him apart. Uh oh, she was on to him all right. She needed him as much as he needed her right now. She moved in. Her hands slid along his chest and her mouth contacted his, nearly causing him to burst into flames.

  He’d been dying for this.

  While their tongues met, his heart rate rocketed, and his carpet fantasy took over his thoughts. Worse, his libido threatened to override the fact that he’d become a vampire killing machine. Maybe just this once they could… . His hand slid down her body, cupping her breast and molding it. God, she was beautiful.

  She had started a body search of her own, making him groan against her lips in deference to her practiced touch. She caressed him in all the right places. She knew exactly how to make him forget about everything but the need to have her. She was the best damned—

  “Holy hell, we can’t do this!” He jumped back
and ran his hands raggedly through his hair. Thank God he’d somehow pulled himself back to reality just in time.

  She frowned at him. “You could’ve just said no.”

  “I’m sorry. So sorry. I can’t believe I nearly let myself… . I could hurt you, Jess. Seriously hurt you.”

  Her expression turned cynical. “Ironic, isn’t it? It used to be the other way around. I was afraid I’d kill you when we made love, but I still took that leap, even though it terrified me. I was strong enough not to go too far.” She crossed her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts higher, and making it difficult for him to think.

  “That was different,” he stammered. “You knew what you were. I don’t have that. What if I lose control?”

  “You’d be strong enough not to go too far, I know it.”

  He looked down—his hands were shaking. He’d come too damned close to losing his willpower. He couldn’t let it happen again. “What if I got carried away in a moment of … you know … release?”

  She dropped onto the couch, near the fireplace, and crossed her arms over her chest again.

  Look away, man. Look away.

  “Sounds like heaven,” she said through gritted teeth.

  He sighed. They stayed apart and didn’t speak for a few minutes. Each of them, coming to terms with their unsatisfied desires.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” Jess asked, finally.

  He nodded. “Took a while, but I finally remembered seeing a strange gargoyle on the building. Jess, it was a monastery.”

  She frowned, but looked excited at the same time. “That sounds like the right place to be brought back to life.”

  He didn’t tell her he’d left logic behind, and had wandered around the city until the building showed itself to him. That was just crazy talk.

  “At least you found it.”

  He nodded. “I did. It took a while, but I guess my subconscious remembered more than my conscious mind did.” That’s as far as he’d go. He had the feeling he’d been guided there somehow. “I even managed to corner one of the monks on the street. I followed him because I remembered his voice,” he said. “I promised to keep this next bit a secret, so you can’t tell anyone about it. Not even Regent, okay?”