Grave Expectations - Jess Vandermire 4 Read online

  Fisk strode purposefully out the door before anyone could ask any questions.

  Somehow, he made it across the hall and into his private quarters. He slammed the door quickly, barely registering the pain as his face crashed into the floor.

  He woke up some time later. His left cheekbone felt chipped. He prodded at it before getting up off the hard tile floor. He stood and tested his oh-so-weak legs. Still wobbly, he made his way across his office, to the safe behind his favorite painting.

  Even his fingers shook as he coded in the password.

  He felt the hum of his knife before accessing it. It knew he needed to be healed. He grabbed it by the blade and sliced his hand. Stupid! Blood dripped onto the metal and absorbed instantly. Damn it. He’d tried to keep this part of him away from the blade. It wanted to know all of him, and up to now, he’d kept his physical self separate. But not anymore.

  The blade hummed happily, its silvery blue glow arcing like solar flares until it reached out to him, drove into him. It had finally won. He sometimes sensed an intelligence wafting from the unusual metal. Sometimes, he didn’t trust the blade. But now, with its strength inside him, healing him, he realized that had been foolish. This was its role. His life’s blood only made the blade stronger, and thereby made him stronger.

  He frowned. Would he be more capable of reenergizing an olde vampire now? Or did he still need help? Would it be easier if he worked with another of his kind? He thought about John Brittain. Earlier, he’d considered him a nuisance, but now, he suddenly realized that John Brittain could become a very important asset to him. One he’d have to court very carefully.

  He thought about the three ancients he was expected to heal. No doubt, Brewster had booked several sessions for him tomorrow. Hopefully, he’d only scheduled an appointment with one of the olde vampires he’d met tonight. The blade hummed in his hand again. “Give me strength,” he said out loud, and the humming grew louder. He felt its power. Maybe he was just panicking for nothing?

  His phone buzzed. He grabbed it up. “Yes?”

  “Leader, there are two people down here who demand to see you,” one of the insignificant front desk supplicants said.

  Fisk flicked on the camera and grinned. Well, well. What a coincidence. Just the man he wanted to see.

  He stared hard at the screen. A black aura surrounded the hot babe next to him. A vampire? Maybe he could use her as leverage to get Brittain to help him with the olde ones?

  Good God, he hoped so.

  “Send them up,” Fisk said, wiping the blood off his hand then shoved the blade back into the safe. It buzzed louder and continued to vibrate, almost as if it didn’t want to be put away.

  Weird. That had never happened before.

  Chapter Six

  THIS WAS THE last place Britt wanted Jess to be. Coming face-to-face with a man who, most likely, had the ability to kill her with a single thought. “Jess, maybe you should—”

  Anger flashed in her eyes. “I indoctrinated you into the underbelly of our world because I knew you had what it took. I trusted you to do what had to be done against a foe with strengths far beyond your own. Don’t think I’m not able to do the same against someone with your kind of abilities. I’m not afraid of him.”

  His gut twisted. Maybe, just this once, she should run scared. The elevator stopped and the doors opened into a hallway instead of Fisk’s office.

  “Jess …”

  She flashed him a look he knew very well. “Don’t even think about trying to get me to go back downstairs,” she said.

  “I don’t like it.”

  “How would you like it if I mollycoddled you at work from now on?” She leaned against the elevator door and blocked his exit.

  He scanned the length of her, drank in every curve, every nuance. God, he loved her. He couldn’t lose her. But he’d drive her away if he kept trying to protect her from harm. What the hell was a guy to do?

  On their way to Fisk’s office, they passed a line of people waiting outside a room on their right.

  “They’re vampires,” she whispered, as they neared the ragged-looking group. “Why are they here?”

  “I have no idea, but it explains why I’ve seen so many vampires coming and going,” he said, trying to get a look in the room. Inside, a voice droned on about something, but he couldn’t make out the words. It sounded as if Fisk’s people were holding an information seminar.

  Light bulb moment.

  He grabbed Jess’s arm to hurry her past those still waiting outside the room.

  Suddenly, one of them noticed her and spoke. “Look. It’s Captain Vandermire and her pet!”

  Jess stiffened and began to transition into full vampire fighting mode.

  Meanwhile, Britt tried to urge her forward, but couldn’t get her to budge.

  A quick check proved that her eyes had gone black and her luscious lips had curled back to show her fangs. Britt’s gut clenched. There was going to be a rumble, and he couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it.

  “You talking to me, creep?” she said.

  Britt touched the stake housed under his leather jacket. With a couple dozen vampires inside the room, he hoped this wouldn’t turn into a battle. The last thing he wanted to do was to wipe out all of them and give Fisk a preview of his capabilities. Worse, with Jess this close in a small space, his abilities might rebound and destroy her, too.

  An ugly vampire with stained teeth and stringy black hair broke from the line and approached, hissing and showing his fangs. Typical bully, always braver in a pack.

  “Back off, scum,” Jess said, “Or you’ll regret it.”

  Dressed in her fighting leathers, she looked lithe and impressive. No wonder word had gotten out about her. Any vampire in his right mind would run in the other direction rather than stand and fight her.

  But then, these vamps didn’t seem to be in their right minds.

  “What are you doing here, hunter? Did you come here for salvation, too? You don’t deserve it. You deserve to die.”

  “Funny,” she said. “That’s exactly what I was thinking about you.”

  Salvation? Is that what Fisk was up to? Britt’s gut churned.

  Jess shoved the vampire backward with one hand and he surged forward again, sticking his ugly mug in her face, cursing her. Spittle flew off his fangs. The jerk didn’t know when to quit. Right now, Jess was showing amazing restraint. She had barely given him a taste of what she could do. But, if the idiot didn’t back off, he’d find out the hard way who Jess Vandermire really was.

  It wasn’t a good idea to have a war in Fisk’s hallway. Britt didn’t want to alienate the evangelist at this point, not if they wanted to find out if he could help Britt save Jess.

  But it appeared this clash was going to happen, whether he wanted it to or not.

  The clueless vampire positioned his legs then crouched, prepared to jump at her. She waited for him to make the first move. Taut. Ready. Deadly.

  “Stop this right now!” Fisk’s voice echoed through the hall, as if he’d used some sort of amplifier.

  Britt actually felt the reverberation in his bones. Weird and effective, he noted.

  The attacking vampire stopped in his tracks and backed away from Britt and Jess. He looked suddenly terrified. “I’m sorry, Leader,” he said.

  Fisk marched up to him and poked the angry vampire in the chest.

  It was like poking a mad dog, Britt thought. Crazy.

  “Get out of my building,” Fisk said.

  “No, please. I’m sorry. I lost my head,” he said. “I have salvation in my heart.” He repeated the words like a drilled-into-his-head quote.

  Britt and Jess shared a shocked glimpse with each other.

  “I said, get out!” Fisk pointed to the elevator. “You will not be allowed back. This is not a place for hatred but for healing.”

  Jess stood near enough to Britt that he could block her, if he had to. She’d never submit to protection, but if Fisk decided
to annihilate the recalcitrant vamp, Britt wanted to keep her safe from possible blowback.

  Rather than attacking Fisk, the vampire looked truly devastated to be tossed out. Vampires didn’t go to church, and they didn’t believe in anything but the need to feed. Certainly not salvation. So, what the hell?

  If Fisk had Britt’s abilities, maybe Britt had more control than he’d been led to believe? When Britt had saved his friends, James, Terry, and baby Sephina from vampirism, it was supposed to have been a one-time only deal. At least, that’s what he’d been told by the man named Zeke. If only Britt could find the man, he had many more questions to ask him. But it was as if Zeke had disappeared.

  After giving James and his family salvation, it was particularly painful for Britt to see Jess’s vampirism every day. Why couldn’t he have saved her too? But now that he was here, discovering that Fisk was doling out humanity, or so it seemed, he wondered … had Zeke been wrong? Could Britt turn another vampire back into a human? That had become his fervent hope.

  Fisk returned and eyed the remaining vampires in line. “Sessions are over for today. Come back tomorrow at the regular time,” he said, then turned his back on them and motioned for Britt and Jess to follow him.

  “Sorry about that,” Fisk said to Britt. “Please disregard the rudeness of my clientele.”

  Rudeness? Nearly having your throat ripped out was a little more than rude. Britt was about to say so, when Jess grabbed his hand and squeezed. He took the painful hint and merely shook his head.

  “Come.” Dressed in flowing white robes with a red sash, Fisk led them to his office.

  “Take a seat,” Fisk said, when they reached an interior antechamber. Britt hadn’t been in this room before. But something inside it made him instantly edgy.

  While Jess took a chair nearest the door, Britt shoved another chair next to hers and sat down. Too bad if Jess didn’t like it. He didn’t know what Fisk’s agenda was, so he’d stay close to her, just in case.

  “How may I help you, Mr. Brittain?” Fisk sat at his desk and tented his fingers in front of his face, eying them both. His attention kept flicking to Jess. “And who is your friend?”

  Jess didn’t answer, so Britt responded for her. “This is Captain Jess Vandermire, of the New York City Police Force.”

  Fisk eyed her up and down in a way that made Britt grit his teeth together. “Nice uniform,” he said.

  Britt cleared his throat and glowered at Fisk. Funny—Jess didn’t say anything. Normally, she’d have put the man in his place, as quick as look at him, especially for a comment like that.

  It’d be best to change the subject, if he wanted to accomplish anything here tonight. “Did you know you’re being watched?” he asked Fisk.

  Fisk’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  “When I left here the last time, two thugs stopped me and wanted to know what I was doing in your office.”

  Fisk’s face looked suddenly sallow. “And what did you tell them, Mister Brittain?”

  “Not much, since we’d only just met,” he said.

  Fisk glanced at Jess. “And you’re here again because … ?”

  REGENT HAD BEEN sitting at his desk wondering what Britt and Jess were doing when his front door opened. He jumped to his feet. The door had been locked, and the only people with keys were Jess and Britt. And they had been warned not to come back until it was all clear.

  He made for the hall. A group of men dressed in black suits entered the foyer—men, wearing effective-looking weapons strapped across their chests.

  Holy heaven, he hadn’t expected this.

  “Father Vandermire.” A tall, thin man with a mustache pushed through the armed guard. “I am Marcus Vasilli. I must ask you to return to your office.”

  Regent frowned. “Why?” he asked, looking beyond Vasilli to get a glimpse of the person dressed in a dark robe and hood straight from the dark ages behind him. It was hard to get a good look because the guards moved in quickly, surrounding the stranger.

  “You are about to repay us for making you young again,” Vasilli said nasally.

  “If you recall, I had little say in the matter,” Regent replied, his teeth clenched in anger. He was usually pretty affable, and he never minded helping people. But being forced to aid someone, especially when they practically kept him prisoner in his own home, was going a little too far.

  Marcus Vasilli looked irritated and spoke in Italian under his breath to the robed stranger. Regent knew too few words to make out the gist of what was being said.

  “You are not grateful?” Vasilli asked him in a thick accent, while the robed man was silently surrounded by soldiers once again.

  “Why should I be?” Regent asked.

  “You’ve been given the gift of youth. You will have many more years now.”

  Regent had been ruminating on that idea ever since he’d been changed. He’d lived a happy life and he had no desire for immortality. Maybe seeing what Jess went through every day had helped him come to that conclusion. For her, immortality had not been a gift.

  He sighed but didn’t speak.

  “Where is the vault?” the man asked. Regent noticed the robed man seemed unable to stand still, and he obviously didn’t like being kept waiting. The fingers of one hand had slipped below the sleeve of his overly large robe and the color of the flesh, not to mention the dark thick nails, told Regent everything he needed to know. They’d made him young so that he could attempt to save a vampire’s soul. That was why they wanted Jess’s vault in the basement.

  His stomach suddenly brimmed with acid. There was a big problem with their way of thinking. They obviously didn’t know that he’d only ever been able to minimally help Jess, and even that was because he loved her. But he hadn’t saved her completely from vampirism.

  What did these men expect of him? And, how had they learned about him and Jess? Still, he didn’t have much choice, at the moment.

  “It is through here,” Regent said, leading them reluctantly into his office. When he reached under his desk, two of the soldiers snapped weapons into place and shouted at him. He held up his hands. “I’m opening the door to the vault,” he said. “There’s a button under the desk. The door is hidden behind paneling next to the fireplace.”

  Vasilli spoke quickly in Italian, and the soldiers lowered their weapons.

  “Go ahead, Father, open the door.”

  They trooped past him, toward the door that now swung open. The man in the robes turned his head to look at Regent as he walked by. His face was covered with a bronze mask.

  Regent instantly dropped into his chair and let out a shaky breath.

  He lowered his head and started praying. He had the feeling he was going to need all the help he could get.

  Chapter Seven

  EVEN THOUGH BRITT had initially been reluctant to bring Jess along, he was glad she’d gone with him. She’d been quiet since they’d left Fisk’s office. Unusually quiet. He couldn’t wait to get outside to hear what she had to say.

  Their little visit had seemed to throw Fisk off a bit. He’d seemed less powerful in Jess’s presence, somehow. Britt would need to remember that.

  “That was a waste of time. We might as well be politicians with all the meaningless crap that was said back there. We didn’t learn a damned thing.”

  “Great way to cover our visit, though,” Jess whispered, as they neared the main doors to the street. “I’m sure Fisk is pissed that the NYC police is trying to protect him from some unknown thugs. Especially with a hallway full of vamps. I’m pretty sure he’d rather not be on NYPD’s radar.”

  Without thinking, he held the front door open for her. Shit! He knew better.

  She instantly narrowed her gaze on him. “What are you doing?”

  “Forgot myself,” he said, stepping through the door ahead of her. She hated to be treated like a lady—she felt she didn’t deserve it. He hoped some day to change her opinion.

  Switching
the conversation back to Fisk and away from his faux pas, he said, “Fisk couldn’t turn us away, though, could he? Not without making us curious enough to find out what he’s up to. As if we weren’t curious, anyway.”

  Now that they were back on the street, he could feel the tension slowly bleeding out of him. What had been inside Fisk’s room that made him feel like he’d had a hive of bees buzzing under his skin? He’d had one hell of a time just staying in his chair back there. The urge to go to the west wall and survey the extra-large oil painting—a scene of a medieval massacre—had been almost overwhelming.

  For now, though, he decided not to mention how he’d felt in that room to Jess. The last thing he wanted to do was to make her more curious about Fisk. He intended to convince her to stay away next time because the so-called evangelist’s powers were a dangerous unknown.

  Every second she spent in his presence was risky.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t say much in Fisk’s office,” he said. “Especially after he asked why you were there.”

  Jess looked angry. “He put some sort of binder on me, Britt. I wasn’t able to speak.”

  Britt stopped in his tracks. “You’re kidding!”

  “Wish I was.”

  “Holy hell.”

  “He obviously knew I was a vampire,” she said. “I’m still trying to figure out why those vamps were lined up, waiting for his sermon. Vampires aren’t exactly the churchgoing sort.”

  “And yet, that’s what it sounded like, Jess. How are we going to find out what’s going on? I can’t go in incommunicado, nor can you. I wouldn’t have risked your safety that way, anyway,” he added.

  She frowned. “As if you’d have a choice, if I decided to find out for myself.”

  “Promise me you won’t do anything that crazy.” His hand touched her arm and stayed there until a quiver of desire sparked between them.

  “Don’t worry. I have a little street vampire in mind. She’s been on my radar for a while. She’s got some inner futility working at her, like she’s aware that she doesn’t want to be a bloodsucker. She might take the job for a price.”