Midnight Crusader Page 16
"Show me."
"Play back that last number."
The moody percussion beat filled the empty auditorium. Tossing off her fitted jacket so she was clad in only a snug white tank top and jeans, Charmaine rolled up onto the stage and to her feet in a fluid tumble. In the center of the other dancers, she picked up their basic movements then made them growl to life with primitive passion. An extra snap of the hips, an exaggerated roll of the shoulders and constant eye contact, bright, wild and burning. Powerful gestures clad in animalistic sleekness, like glossy fur over dangerous sinew. Supple, smooth and even sexier than hell. Something the upper class, classically trained Kitty Parsons couldn't have conceived of in a million years even for a million dollar paycheck.
Jungle soul. Hot. Fiercely rhythmic. Primal strength and sexuality with a little bump and grind thrown in to raise the body temperature.
Perfect.
"Yes. Yes!” Naomi rushed to the edge of the stage. “More like that. Just like that."
Like Jeannie in the parking garage. Predators on the prowl.
And from the corner of her eye, Naomi saw Rita snatching up her bulky pullover, wriggling into it as she marched up the aisle and out of the auditorium.
* * * *
"Who is that woman?"
Rita and her dark lover stood at the one-way glass looking down upon the stage. It took him a moment to focus as he lapped up the rich life's blood from the wounds on her throat. The euphoria of feeding left him dazed and drowsy.
"Who is she?” Rita repeated. The sharpness of her tone finally cut through his lethargy.
"I do not know, my dear. She is very ... athletic."
"She just walked in out of nowhere, and Naomi gave her the job."
"Jealous, love? Of what? Because like all the others, they don't appreciate what you've done, what you offer? Because they exclude you and push you away, even your supposed little friend down there? I know it hurts, my love. I, too, know the sting of their rejection. Good enough to use for their purpose but not good enough to be one of them. You've got a much greater purpose now. You will be my eyes and ears against those who thought to use you against me. Don't you love the irony of it?"
"So I have to stay with that crazy little twit.” Her tone was a bit forced, as if she was trying to convince both him and herself with her display of disgust.
His features hardened dangerously. “You will stay where I tell you to stay."
She immediately oozed apology and petition. “But I want to stay with you, to serve you."
"As delightful as that may be, you serve me better where you are. I want to know everything, my dear. You must tell me all. Don't think of it as a betrayal of trust. Does she trust you? Do any of them trust you? She's thrown you aside for him. There is no loyalty there, no trust, no love. Not like I've given you. Rita, she is not your friend."
"She's got some knight in shining armor fetish.” Rita spoke that confidence to soothe the bitterness burning about her heart. He was right and it hurt. She had no friends.
"Really?"
"As if there are any real heroes out there who'll come to rescue her. Little fool. The closest she's ever going to get is the make believe at the Excalibur where she dreams and drools over thoughts of chivalry. She has nightmares about it, too, mixing up her pretend heroes with the villain that attacked her. She even speaks lines out of Camelot in her sleep.” Her laugh was cruel. “Pathetic."
"I don't know what kind of a policewoman you were, but you have an affinity for evil that quite impresses me."
"You can't work with it all day without some of it rubbing off, you know. I've seen evil. It's no stranger to me.” Her talk was tough to harden her heart against those she thought had cared about her. But they'd only been using her, mocking her need for their inclusion. They'd kept secrets, and now she would tell theirs.
"Tell me about this villain. What does she know about him?"
"Nothing. She's blocked the whole ordeal out of her mind and refuses to deal with it. The weakling."
"She's not strong like you."
"No."
"Do not offer solutions to the poor confused girl. Push her, Rita. I need to know what she remembers. I want her frightened and helpless. Feed her panic and pain so that he's busy playing rescuer. That will keep him distracted from what I am doing until the last piece is in place."
She leaned into him, offering the ragged side of her neck for his nuzzling. Finally, he pushed her away.
"You are as greedy as I am."
She laughed. “I like to be appreciated."
"Oh, and your talents are many, my love. You've done an excellent job with the girls. They will be as vicious as they are lovely when they join their friend Jeannie in my little cadre of killers."
"And me? Will I join them, too?"
"Patience. I have not yet decided. Your will is strong. Perhaps too strong for me to control if I gift you with the power of eternity. For now, you please me as you are."
"Frightening a silly girl and placating a vain man's ego."
"Do not underestimate our Mr. McGraw. He may look the love besotted swain but he, unlike myself, is a man of principle and honor. I'm not ready to provoke him to make a choice between head and heart. Not yet. Soon. When all the gold has been moved from Peru into my accounts here, then I will need none of them. She won't scorn my love again. She'll learn, like those before her. And the show will open as a perfect revenge. My revenge."
And Alex Cross glared down at Naomi Bright through eyes red and swirling with madness and obsession.
"Soon."
* * * *
Kaz Zanlos felt a faint tingling of awareness an instant before he glanced up from his paperwork. He didn't express his surprise.
"Ah, Mr. McGraw. I've been expecting you for some time."
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
The detective stood just inside his door. That he had gotten so close without tripping any of Zanlos’ safeguards was as alarming as it was impressive. Zanlos smiled blandly. “To what do I owe the honor?"
"I believe you sent for me. If at first you don't succeed, ask for a meeting."
"Oh, you must be referring to that nasty business with Mr. Sinclair. Please be assured that that was none of my doing. Though I can't fault a man for taking his job seriously, Mr. Sinclair went beyond the requirements of his."
"So you want me to believe that it isn't in your best interest for me to be killed?"
"Oh, dear boy, why would I want such a thing? If something happened to you, swarms of your overzealous brethren would descend upon me like locusts. That's trouble I don't need. I prefer the enemy I recognize."
"Well, you've got trouble whether you like it or not."
"You don't have a very forgiving nature, do you, Mr. McGraw? Can't you leave that unfortunate business in Washington behind us as a mistake on my part? I was unaware of what my associate was planning. Obviously, I didn't plan to become what you see before you now. If nothing else, that should convince you of my former partner's treachery."
"And you were just a Boy Scout in that whole affair?"
"Oh, no. I was a naughty boy. A failing of mine. I see a fortune to be made, and I can't help grabbing for it. My haste and greed lead to some rather unpleasant bedfellows."
"Like now? Who are you in bed with, Zanlos?"
"How indiscreet of you to expect me to kiss and tell. Suffice it to say, I've built this endeavor legitimately. All the Is are dotted and Ts are crossed. Remember, in my human life I was a lawyer. Would you begrudge a man an honest living? After all, what did I ever do to you and your people?"
"You stole Naomi Bright."
"Ahhh. Yes. Well you gave me little choice there, did you, detective? As I recall, you and your friends were about to turn me into dust before I had an opportunity to appreciate my new situation."
Gabriel scowled, remembering. He and his friends closing in on the centuries-old Bianca du Maurier who was about to use her vampiric power to enslave a governmen
t. Kaz Zanlos, her human partner, was no innocent except when it came to the true nature of the woman's treachery and viciousness. She'd turned on him at the last moment, changing him into one of their kind, leaving him to cover her short-lived escape. And Zanlos, always the clever survivor, had taken Naomi hostage to make good his own exit.
"So you hide behind a woman who trusted you."
"Yes. Blame me for being unchivalrous if you like, but Miss Bright has come to no harm in my care. Good assistants are too hard to find. And so is good insurance."
Gabriel took a threatening step forward. “Let her go, Zanlos."
"She isn't a prisoner here. She's an employee. She comes and goes as she likes."
"She is your prisoner and you know it."
Zanlos shrugged. “A prisoner who has a healthy paycheck, good benefits and an employer who values her work. Not a bad captivity. Truth be told, she would not go with you. Our Miss Bright prefers the safe and familiar to the threat of the unknown. She is a fragile creature, and I see that she is well protected. You see, some arrogant fool in her past did not place her worth above his pride, and she suffered for it grievously.” He smiled thinly as that blade of truth stabbed home. “I will not make that same mistake."
"She isn't safe with you, Zanlos. It's all an illusion to abuse her trust."
"You are a fine one to speak of trust. Have you told her what you are and how you've been using her to get to me? Who between us is the honorable man, Mr. McGraw? Which one of us has Miss Bright's interests at heart? If you persist in trying to tear down what I have built here, she will fall with me. There is no way you can avoid that. Is your conscience strong enough to withstand that cost? I think not.” He spoke that with a cool cruelty having weighed, measured and determined the type of man he faced. “Honorable men are predictably single-sighted. Though they might protest that they act for the good of all, that innocent ‘all’ is usually who was caught in the crossfire. You are a warrior, are you not? You understand the terms of war. If you declare it against me and the empire I've created, it's the innocent who will pay the price."
"Not if I take you out."
McGraw took another aggressive step, but Zanlos only chuckled.
"Cut off the head and the beast will die, is that it? It might surprise you to learn that I am not the head. Take me down and you will still be devoured, you and those you care about. You can't win here, Detective. The best you can do is strike a bargain that insures the safety of Miss Bright. If you care for her, as you claim, that should not be too difficult a deal to make. Don't force me to sacrifice her because you are too stubborn to see there is nothing but your pride at stake. I will allow no harm to come to her. She's the only one who knows how to sort my mail properly."
McGraw hesitated and Zanlos continued, confident in his assessment.
"See. Honorable men are no mystery. Do the smart thing. If you care for Miss Bright, leave her in my protection. Return to your righteous tribunal and tell them there is nothing going on here that need concern them. I perhaps have erred as a human being, but I have behaved myself since becoming one of your kind. Isn't that your main concern, that mankind is not endangered by our existence? I have nothing against mankind. In fact, I serve them and their greed most enthusiastically. You have no job to do here, Detective.” He held out his smooth palms. “My hands are clean."
He let the young policeman consider that for a long minute, then he added the coup de grace.
"She will be safe and content with me, Mr. McGraw. Can you say the same? Can you guarantee that you will bring her no harm, either mentally or physically, should she go with you? I think not. And I think you know it, too, and perhaps that is why you despise me so. Despise me then. You won't hurt my feelings. Only don't attack me for the wrong reasons. That would not be honorable of you."
"This is not over,” McGraw vowed at last, his tone soft with promise.
"I had not assumed it would be. Do not interfere where you do not belong. You have no cause. Your rules, not mine, but I'm not above insisting that you follow them. Good evening, Mr. McGraw. I trust you know the way out."
The way out. An irony, he thought as, unseen in the shadows, he watched the rehearsal wrap up. The sight of Naomi absorbed his senses. Her features were relaxed, her eyes aglow with pleasure as she spoke to each of the girls in her brood. Her attitude toward Charmaine remained a bit stiff, but that was because of him and her curiosity over how he and Charmaine fit together. But it wasn't in Naomi's nature to remain aloof for long, and soon she was chatting easily with the new choreographer.
He could see her as she had been, his lovely, innocent and newly orphaned neighbor who'd come to his family for aid. She'd asked for his help and had claimed his heart. He remembered the details so clearly, right down to the soft dove color of her gown and the scent of violets that sweetened the air about her. He, the bold warrior, was reduced to awkward boy as she gazed up expectantly, waiting to hear what he would say. Her eyes had widened, her lips parted, her breathing trembled as she heard him pledge his devotion and his sword. And he remembered her words now, though he hadn't heard them clearly enough then.
'Tis not your sword I desire, sir knight. The protection I seek comes from the heart, not the hand.
There was a noisy scuffle from the doors of the auditorium as Charmaine's boisterous younger daughters raced down the aisle. The older girl followed at a more sedate and grown up pace. Gabriel watched with heart turning over as Naomi was introduced to the girls. She knelt down so she was eye level with the younger daughters and addressed them warmly, then shook the elder girl's hand with adult propriety. The kids took to her immediately. She was a natural with children. He'd at one time dreamed of their children playing about their feet, had envisioned her tender scolding and comforting embraces, had yearned for the respectful regard of his own son's uplifted gaze as he gave instruction or advice. Had anticipated his prideful and protective emotions as he watched a daughter evolve from shy butterfly to courted beauty.
But that would never happen.
There would be no family for him. He'd settled that when he became what he was, a creature caught between existence and death. No new life could spring from that void, from that suspension of time and reality.
He observed Naomi with the girls, the way she listened with grave attention as they chattered, the way she touched their hair with the fondness of a woman who deserved motherhood. She deserved a man who could gift her with the opportunity to share her love and nurturing with young ones of her own.
He was not that man. Not any more. Not for centuries.
Odd. In his single-minded focus to find her, to claim her, he'd never once thought of whether or not he had anything to offer her once they were together again. All his imaginings were of how things would have been had he returned in time to prevent her from leaping to her death. They would have wed and been blessed by God. They would have lived and loved in his family home, raising children, caring for his estates and his people. An idyllic dream he indulged in every dawn as daylight forced him into his protective slumber. He and Naomi, laughing, loving, growing old beside each other.
It would never happen. Never, no matter how he dreamed, how he schemed and tried to manipulate time and fate to bring them back together.
Naomi Bright was not the woman he'd loved.
And he was not the man to bring her happiness.
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Chapter Seventeen
It was bad news. Terrible news. The horror of it, the magnitude of it wailed through the castle like a harsh wind on the cries of women and men alike.
What could be so awful? What could creep in and smother the life of an entire community with the spirit-crushing silence of a plague?
When would they come to tell her?
How could she stand to know?
She recognized the footsteps when they finally sounded. She knew the heavy reluctance that issued with it the last information anyone ever wanted to hear.
She'd heard the approach before, carrying life-altering changes and grief and confusion. And pain. Horrible pain.
How much loss could her heart be expected to bear?
She stood illuminated by candlelight, pale and as wavering as those uneven flames. Her heart beat fast, racing as if by its reckless speed alone it could escape the inevitable breaking. But there was no means to flee fate as it neared her door.
Sadness and denial twined about her thoughts, tightening, choking like unwanted vines whose tendrils eventually blocked the nourishing sun. Beneath those tangled doubts she slowly strangled.
The steps continued, growing closer with their disastrous tidings. Along with the echo of boot soles, she also heard another somehow more sinister sound. It was the clank of a scabbard against each stair. Hollow, desolate and dire reverberations clattering to her soul.
And upon the wings of sorrow rose another sensation, the only one strong enough to distract from the agony of loss.
Fear.
Steady. Increasing. Unstoppable.
The price to pay for abandonment.
The wages of being a woman alone.
And a victim of circumstance.
* * * *
"No!"
Naomi sat up, covers clutched to her laboring breast. Fever flamed in her cheeks, yet her body was drenched in icy sweat and trembling with cold.
A dream. Just a dream.
She was awake now, and dreams couldn't harm her. If she lay back down and closed her eyes, a natural slumber would eventually find her.
Just a bad dream.
And then she heard the music. Lute and lyre. Not exactly the type of music Rita had pumping through her speakers. But exactly the kind of spritely tune that provided the soundtrack for her nightmares.
"Rita!"
After a long pause, a light came on in the hallway, and her disheveled roommate stuck her head around the door.
"Is something wrong, Nomi? You could wake the dead."
"What's that music? Where's it coming from?"