Midnight Masquerade Page 23

  "You must listen carefully, young friend. Time grows short for you, and you must make a choice."

  "A choice,” he repeated. His voice sounded hollow, drained of strength. Gerard lifted the hand that lay limp upon his chest and searched for a pulse. His touch was cool and somehow soothing.

  "You must choose now how you want to go on."

  Nick shook his head. Dizziness had his thoughts floating, scattering like fog in a breeze.

  "Nick, listen to me."

  "I'm going to die. What choice do I have?"

  Gerard chuckled. “Infinite, my friend. But you must tell me now before the choice is taken from you."

  "I don't—understand."

  "Then listen, Nick. Look at me. Listen. You have been bitten by a powerful creature. She controls you now. If you die, she will still hold you to a parody of life as a revenant. It is an ugly, graceless existence, rather like the zombies you Louisianes are so fond of. You will serve her mindlessly until your body rots away. As I said, not a pleasant way to go. If you would have managed to survive, you would have had no will but hers. Again, slavery is a poor substitute for existence."

  "I won't be her slave."

  "Or, if you choose, I can send you to a peaceful rest."

  His breathing quickened into soft, shallow pants as he considered these unappealing options. And disregarded them all. “No. I don't want to die. There has to be some other way.” Rae. He couldn't leave Rae. He'd promised.

  "There is, mio amico, mio figlio."

  The luminescent fire in Gerard's gaze blazed higher, hotter, yet with such cold, clear power.

  "Tell me."

  "I can bring you over to what we are. You can share the eternal night with us and be free of Bianca's control. You will live on in a way that expands and limits what you are capable of."

  "But I will live."

  "Yes. This is not a simple choice. Do not make it carelessly, but make it quickly.” His thumb stroked lightly over the quiet veins in Nick's wrist. “Your time is almost gone."

  A vampire. That was what Gerard was talking about. Nick's exhausted mind couldn't grasp the ramifications. But there was one thing he understood and clung to with a fierce certainty. If he did nothing, he would lose Rae forever. If he took this alternative Gerard offered, he wouldn't have to let her go.

  "Make me what you are."

  "You are sure? You make this choice freely?"

  "Yes. I still have things to do."

  "Va bene.” He leaned in closer, and Nick shrank back instinctively from the instrument of his own end. Gerard smiled, overwhelming that resistance with a touch of vampiric magic, just enough to ease the fear and relax his misgivings. “Don't be afraid. I will not hurt you. Prepare for eternity, young friend."

  And as he touched one hand to Nick's cold cheek, he brought Nick's wrist to his mouth with the other. A sudden sting then no pain.

  Nick drifted in a pleasant dream, sinking deeper and deeper into a peaceful and forever slumber. He resisted Gerard's insistence that he return.

  "Nick. Open your eyes. Look at me."

  He fought the suggestion, wanting only to remain on that quiet, blissful plane.

  "Nick, you must drink if you want to live."

  "Don't drink any more."

  "Oh, but you must. A drink like no other leading to an existence without equal. Drink."

  Dampness touched his lips, and he swiped it away with his dry and strangely thick tongue. Not cool but warm. The liquid was thick and heated, its taste exotic and all at once forbidden in the way it made him instantly crave more. So he opened his mouth, and he swallowed and let the hot flow of life reenter him from the gash Gerard had torn in his own wrist. He drank. Then he drew with a ferocious urgency until his senses swirled in the thrall of an intoxication far beyond any alcohol buzz.

  "Enough."

  Nick gasped as the elixir was withdrawn. Then cried out as a sudden violent cramping brought his knees up to his chest.

  "You lied,” he panted frantically. “You said I wouldn't die."

  Again, the soft knowing chuckle. “This is not death, mio fratello, this is rebirth. And you will arise from it stronger and more alive than you could ever imagine. But rest now while your body adjusts to the change. Rest. And when you awake, we will discuss what you have become."

  * * * *

  Rae used the time it took to get downtown to compose her emotions and steady her purpose. By now, Nick had survived or he hadn't. Her presence wouldn't change that. She'd been alone for so much of her life, it surprised her to find a huge cavern opening up inside her. That space Nick Flynn used to fill.

  She took a strangled breath. Not ‘used to.’ She wouldn't give up hope. Not yet.

  The gleaming facade of the office building captured the pulse of D.C. nightlife in flickers of passing lights. As they sank into the underground parking structure, tension roiled off Palmer with the failure of his antiperspirant. The musky odor exemplified an animal afraid and cornered. Whatever Palmer was about to do, he didn't like it.

  And Rae was sure she wouldn't, either.

  "Why are we here, Palmer?"

  "I thought we'd stop and pick up the evidence first.” How nervous he sounded. He was walking her into a trap. What reward would he get for this betrayal? A payoff? How much was enough to turn on one's fellow officers? Or maybe there wasn't money involved. Maybe Palmer was motivated by forces beyond his control. And that made him all the more dangerous because he'd be operating without conscience or hesitation. As he parked the vehicle, she pragmatically planned how she would handle the problem of Detective Palmer. No way he was going to march her up and hand her over like a docile lamb to his employers both natural and supernatural.

  As they left the steamy garage for the startling chill of the office building, Rae slightly preceded Palmer up the stairs. Did he have a gun on her? Was he prepared for her resistance, or did he think he had her totally buffaloed?

  "Palmer, who was first on the scene to investigate Bette Grover's accident?"

  "How should I know?"

  "I thought you had your finger on the pulse of D.C. and knew everything.” She didn't have to see his features to know her words had them tightening with resentment. Then she added a lie of her own just to see what his response would be. “I saw your name on the report. Why else would you have been at the hospital?"

  "I got called in because I was in charge of her husband's investigation. What's so sinister about that?” She could smell his sweat, could hear the strain wearing on his tone.

  "Who said anything was sinister? I was just wondering why, if you were on the case, you weren't up at the hospital tonight."

  "Why would I be there?"

  "You didn't hear? She came out of her coma this afternoon and was going to give a statement. From what I understand, things are pointing away from accident and toward attempted murder. Some news, huh?"

  "Yeah. I mean good news for you. She was a friend and all.” He sounded as rattled as a diamondback with its sheltering rocks kicked over.

  "I've heard she's implicating members of the force. I wouldn't want to be in their shoes when they get tied into Zanlos and his operation. Of course, a smart cop would know the right time to turn state's evidence."

  The unmistakable bore of a .38 stabbed her in the kidney.

  "So that's what a smart cop would do, eh, Borden? That smart cop who's been trying to put three kids through college on a public servant's salary? What would you know about it, Lizzie? You've never had to worry about anything but that smudge of suspicion on your record. Did she or didn't she waste her father after he'd killed her mother?"

  Rae didn't react as he pushed those obvious buttons. Instead, she continued to prod for the decency that may once have resided in the now absent morals of Detective Palmer.

  "A smudge? You mean like betraying your department, your partner? They're going to kill Gabriel, you know. He's not going to let them erase Naomi Bright as a bad risk. And how are you going to justify
your blood money then?"

  "Gabe's a smart kid. He's not going to stop a bullet."

  "Unless they ask you to pull the trigger. Would you do that for them, Palmer? Where do you draw the line?"

  She winced as the gun barrel jabbed her in the back.

  "Shut up. Just shut up and walk."

  So much for conscience. He may feel bad about participating, actively or passively, in her and Gabriel's deaths but not so bad that he'd give up the tidy nest egg he was being paid not to care enough to do something.

  The door opened to the huge, gleaming lobby. And Rae saw her chance. There at the security desk, stood the beggar turned guard.

  As they approached, recognition sparked in the guard's face then puzzlement as he tried to fit what he knew of her into this time and place. With Palmer behind her, she was able to touch her forefinger to her lips, bidding him not to give her away. She read his name plate. Ted Kroeze. That was the name of her rescuer.

  "Can I help you folks?"

  Palmer pulled out his badge. “Here to see Mr. Zanlos. He's expecting me."

  Ted studied the badge, and she could see him calculating what it might mean. The man was a cop, and she was a prostitute. Perhaps her chance had just slipped away.

  "He's turned his phones off for the night, so I'll have to take you up myself. Could I get you both to sign in, please?"

  Palmer scribbled in the log book then reluctantly handed the pen to Rae. She wrote quickly, and before Palmer could see what she'd put down, Ted picked up the book. He glanced at the page, his expression never altering as he read her plea.

  He has a gun. Help me!

  "This way, folks."

  After unlocking the panel with his key, Ted ushered them into the elevator. Rae went to the back of the car so Palmer couldn't get behind her to use her body for a shield. Ted got in and punched the appropriate floor. His back was to her, so she couldn't tell how he'd reacted to her message. He hadn't said anything to Palmer. But he hadn't made a move to assist her, either. She was asking him to risk his cherished job, his new and trusted position in the community to help someone most people would view as beneath contempt.

  But Ted Kroeze wasn't most people.

  "Nice night now that the rain's moved off."

  Palmer grunted at his comment.

  "Makes me glad I've got a job inside out of the weather."

  Damn, he wasn't going to help her.

  "But I can think of five hundred reasons to be grateful for other things, too."

  Yes!

  Rae tensed and got ready.

  The car stopped.

  "Hey, this isn't the right floor."

  "This is where you get off, sir."

  As the door opened onto the floor below Zanlos's office, Palmer started for the panel, meaning to shove the obviously moronic guard out of his way. His hand was buried deep in his rain coat pocket and the barrel of his pistol angled up as if he were glad to see someone. As he moved toward Ted, Rae was momentarily out of his line of sight. And that's when she acted.

  Palmer cried out in surprise as her kick blew out his knee. As he toppled toward her, she grabbed his wrist, bending it downward so if the gun discharged, he'd be perforating himself instead of her or Ted. Then he glanced up to receive another unpleasant shock—Ted's night stick cracking against the side of his skull, putting out his lights like the flick of a switch.

  As Ted dragged the motionless Palmer out of the car, he said without looking up, “Tell me I haven't just made the biggest mistake of my life."

  "I'm a cop, and you just saved my life."

  "Well, I guess that's only fair, since you and Mr. Flynn saved mine.” He jerked a lamp cord from the wall and bound Palmer like a rodeo steer. Then, after wadding his handkerchief into Palmer's mouth to stifle any outcries, he tossed Rae the rogue cop's gun. “What can I do to help?"

  "Get the hell out of here."

  He gave her a steady look, impressed by the way she efficiently checked the weapon. “I don't think so."

  "Think of your family."

  "I am. And they wouldn't expect me to walk away from a friend in trouble."

  Rae smiled and shook her head. “If I'd known you'd be this much trouble...” She reached into her pocket. “You can help."

  Ted glanced at the key she pressed into his hand then back up in puzzlement.

  "Go to the Copy Mart off Connecticut by the Zoo. Take the information in that box to a Marchand LaValois at this address.” She wrote it out on the first piece of paper she could find in her purse. Then her throat closed up tight when she realized it was Nick's business card. Forcing that wad of emotion down was like swallowing one of her high-heeled hooker shoes. “I can handle things here, Ted, but I need to know this information is safe."

  He took the card. “You can count on me. Do you want me to send reinforcements?"

  "Page this number.” She added Gabriel's cell phone to the card and then her own. “Tell the officer who answers everything. And then check with the area hospitals for Mr. Flynn. Call me as soon as you find out his condition."

  Ted's features set in grim lines. “Is it bad?"

  Dampness welled in her eyes. “Bad enough."

  He squeezed her arm. “I'll take care of it."

  Taking a stabilizing breath, she nodded. “Go on. And don't forget to send the elevator back up for me."

  It seem to take forever for the elevator to return. Rae waited, calming her thoughts, training her focus to what awaited on the floor above. At her feet, trussed like a turkey, Palmer never stirred. He'd played his part in this masquerade badly, and for him it was over, while her own role had narrowed into a solo act again. She'd just gotten used to playing it as part of a team and now, here she was back on her own. She couldn't allow herself to think of Nick because, if those remembrances came back, she'd see again a wound too severe for a man to survive. And she couldn't confront the truth of that and do what had to be done for both their sakes.

  With a quiet bing, the elevator opened for her.

  As she rode up the final floor, she held Palmer's gun at ready. A gun that could do serious damage to Kaz Zanlos. But what did she have at her disposal to go up against Bianca Du Maurier and any other legions of the undead that she might have on hand to greet her?

  A fine time to think of that now as the doors opened.

  Naomi Bright sat working at her desk.

  The sight so surprised Rae that she stood for a moment unsure of how to proceed. Until she saw how Naomi was working.

  The girl sat in front of her computer monitor, staring at the nonsensical array of letters she typed with a rapid lack of precision onto the screen.

  "Naomi?"

  A glassy gaze turned in her direction. “May I help you?” Her voice was as mechanical as an automated phone message.

  "Naomi, who's here with you?"

  She registered no alarm at the sight of the gun, nor did she appear to recognize Rae until she said, “Mr. Zanlos is in conference, Detective Borden. He's expecting you."

  A chill passed along the surface of Rae's skin. “Who's he in conference with?"

  She just stared with eyes as blank as marbles. “I'll buzz him that you're here."

  Rae stilled her hand before she could reach for the intercom. Her slender fingers were icy. “I'll let myself in, Naomi. Isn't it time for you to go home now?"

  "Is it?” She stared, unblinking and without curiosity.

  "Yes, it is. Get your purse and go home. Do it now, Naomi. I'll tell Mr. Zanlos you went home for the night."

  A mild pucker of consternation creased her brow.

  "It's all right. You go on. Mr. Zanlos won't need you for anything else tonight."

  With robotic jerkiness, the girl reached into her desk drawer for her purse, picking it up by the bottom so that half the contents spilled out onto the floor. She stared at them incomprehensibly.

  "Let me get that for you.” Rae knelt and gathered the girl's belongs, pausing as she found a simple piece of silv
er jewelry. A crucifix. “This is lovely."

  "Gabriel gave it to me, but I can't wear it to work. Mr. Zanlos doesn't like religious affectation in the office."

  "Would you mind if I wore it just for tonight?"

  No response.

  Rae slipped the chain over her head. Strange how comforting that plain silver cross felt lying against her throat. Like armor, somehow. A knight's armor.

  "Here are your things. I'll tell them good night for you."

  Naomi stood and hesitated, mannequin-like until Rae slung the purse strap over her shoulder and gave her a nudge toward the elevator. She moved slowly, in a dazed shuffle while Rae waited impatiently to get her out of the line of possible fire. Finally, after Naomi pressed the call button, Rae turned her attention from the girl to the closed double doors leading into Zanlos’ inner sanctum.

  Who would she find in there with him? Bianca, most likely. But who else?

  Just as she pushed the door open, she heard the distinctive jingle of a beeper.

  Gabriel's.

  A sudden shove from behind propelled her into the room at a stumble. Zanlos sat behind his desk and Bianca on its corner. And kneeling on the floor in front of it, bound in shackles, was Gabriel McGraw.

  Before she could regain her balance, one of the two men standing out of sight by the door stepped in to neatly snatch the gun from her.

  "Thank you, Miss Bright,” Zanlos announced casually. “You may return to your work now."

  Woodenly, without any trace of remorse for the abrupt attack upon Rae, Naomi scuffled back to her desk.

  "Detective Borden, you've caused us considerable aggravation.'

  "It was my pleasure.” She rubbed her wrist, aching from the goon's snatch and grab of the pistol. She exchanged a speaking look with Gabriel. His eyes were filled with guilt and apology. She forgave it with a slight nod. He didn't appear to be injured. But then he wasn't being held by the chains that bound him. He was kept captive by his love for Naomi. He wouldn't act if that action would bring her harm. If she was to count on his help, she'd have to get Naomi out of the equation.