Dead By Dusk

Page 46

"Yes, I believe so," Lucien agreed.
"Why did he turn her into a vampire… and then destroy her?" Stephanie asked. "Wouldn't he need…
helpers, assistants, fellow bloodsuckers? Sorry, Lucien," she murmured. But he didn't seem offended.
Insanity— she was worried about insulting a man who claimed to be a vampire.
"I think she went further than she was supposed to go with Doug. Whoever our fellow is, he didn't want things happening this fast. Gema disobeyed him. He destroyed her." Lucien grimaced. "Why do you think Maria Britto looked so alive at her wake?"
"Obviously," Stephanie said, arching a brow, "because she wasn't really dead. She was a vampire, with remarkable powers of recovery?"
"Exactly," Lucien said. "But if her mother hadn't destroyed her," he added grimly, "I'd have been there, watching her."
"Watching her? Not destroying her yourself?"
"In Maria's case… I would have gone to her."
"I don't believe I'm going to say this, but…" Stephanie said, looking at Lucien again. "Because she might have been a good vampire!"
"Something like that," Lucien said.
"Now I'm lost. When I found Maria, she was in… tatters. The police were there, and the coroner and the doctor, and her death was definitely not natural. Why didn't the doctor and coroner do the autopsy and embalm her correctly in the first place?" Grant asked.
"Because vampires have the power to hypnotize," Jade said softly.
"All right, so either Maria or this François got to both those men. Right?"
"That's what I believe," Lucien said.
Grant lifted his hands, staring at Lucien. "Why—why have you been so mistrustful of me? I'm not sure myself who tackled who on Stephanie's balcony tonight—and I know I was damned suspicious of you.
But why were you after me?" Grant demanded, staring at Lucien.
"Because you are involved somehow. I wasn't sure… on which side," Lucien told him. "Besides, I wasn't really after you—I was just watching you. You were the one always willing to pick a fight."
"Because you seemed to be following Stephanie. How could I have known you didn't intend any harm to her?" Grant demanded.
"I told you, Lucien—if you'd just come to them in the beginning," Jade murmured.
Lucien smiled, shaking his head. "They aren't really buying all of this tonight, Jade. But they've both felt enough of a disturbance that they have to listen with their minds open—a crack, at least."
"I still don't understand. You have all these powers. You're a king of your kind. Wait a minute—you're wearing a cross!" Grant said suddenly.
"There's an important point you need to learn," Lucien said, looking at them both. "Yes, I can wear a cross. I can walk into a church—I was born at a time when the Church was everything—and I can still feel a deep peace. Now. Because in the battle, there is black and white and shades between. But there is good and evil, the salvation of life, and the brutal destruction of it. I fight for life, and against the kind of evil that feeds on blood and pain. Such a creature as François? He could not wear a cross—or a Star of David, for that matter. He would cringe before a really holy man of any religion that respected the one Creator. There are tricks to dupe, disable, and slaughter priests and holy men, of course. But true believers have their weapons as well. François would not be able to enter consecrated ground. Holy water would hurt—badly. But you'd need a lot to really kill such a creature. I believe that during the daylight hours, François is still weak. That doesn't mean that he isn't about. It just means he can't cause the harm by day that he can at night. During the light today, what you two need to do is make the rest of this crew understand that no one should be invited in, crosses are far more important apparel than underwear, and no one should be alone."
"That's great for our crew, but this is a town, a village…" Grant reminded him. "There are many people at risk."
"You did notice, I'm certain, that there was no huge outcry when it was discovered that Maria Britto was not given an autopsy, or embalmed," Lucien said. He stared hard at Stephanie. "The person in question here is Victoria Reggia."
She shook her head firmly. "Reggie did not just pop out of the ground! She was there for me when my parents died, and that was nearly eleven years ago."
Lucien shrugged. "Still… the opening here—of the club—rather coincided with the growth of the dig.
The earthquake that led to the discovery of the remains happened just about two months ago."
"You're not making any sense—the resort itself was surely started way before that!" Stephanie told him.
"The resort was built nearly a year ago by a group of American businessmen. They sold it to Victoria Reggia—just about two months ago."
"Are you suggesting that Reggie is an evil sorceress?" Stephanie demanded, growing angry. "Again, I tell you it makes no sense—I've known Reggie for more than a decade."
"Yes, yes, I understand that," Lucien said.
"You think she's a reincarnation of an evil sorceress?" Stephanie said, grating her teeth, unable to keep a disdainful note from her voice.
"No," Lucien said.
Stephanie threw up her hands. "Then just what are you getting at?"
"I'm trying very hard to determine just why… why it seems that you are so pivotal in all this," Lucien said quietly.
"Me!" Stephanie protested.
"And you, of course, Grant. But you already know that there's a connection for you here."
"Interesting. My name is Peterson," Grant said dryly.
"And I'm a Cahill!" Stephanie said.
Lucien smiled. "A lot of centuries have gone by since François de Venue, Valeria, and Conan de Burgh were caught up in an earthquake. Stephanie, you're related to Reggie somehow, right?"
She waved a hand in the air. "Vaguely. She's my mother's cousin, or something like that. Maybe a second cousin. I don't even know. She was there for me. She's a good friend."
"Interesting, though. She set all this up, she brought you over, hired everyone—including me—but hasn't come around to see her work," Lucien noted.
"She was in Germany, meeting with groups at military bases, getting them to come over here. The townspeople are very happy about it. They need the tourism dollars," Stephanie informed him.
"Yes, they need the tourism dollars," Lucien agreed. He was staring at Stephanie. "You've seen her, haven't you?"
"No!" Stephanie said.
"Yes, you have."
She flushed. Grant stared at her. He knew her so well, and he hadn't known she was lying. In a way, at least.
"I really haven't seen her. I just thought I saw her at the back of the café," Stephanie said.
"I see," Lucien murmured.
"It wasn't Reggie!" Stephanie said. "I asked… she wasn't with the group. And Arturo didn't see her.
Did you see her."
"I wouldn't have known if I had," Lucien said. "I've never met her."
"Well, she's gorgeous," Stephanie told him, still feeling defensive.
"She looks a lot like Steph—or Steph looks like her. She has a mane of really dark hair, and blue, almost violet, eyes."
"Ah," Lucien said, as if that meant something.
"Honestly, she wasn't here. If she had been, she would have made a point to get to me. I know that,"
Stephanie said.
"Perhaps you're right," Lucien said. He turned to Grant. "Peterson. Names ending with 'son' are usually Scandinavian."
"Or American," Grant reminded him.
"Actually, with all the Viking activity, such names may be European as well, in many places. The great Norman lords had Scandinavian ancestry."
"My family has been in the States for years," Grant said. "What on earth are you getting at?"
"Nothing, really. Just thinking out loud," Lucien said.
"Well, it's going to be much easier to get to the bottom of everything now that things are out in the open,"
Jade said. She smiled. "Except that, looking at the two of you, I can see that you're not at all convinced that we're sane."
Grant was silent, then smiled. "The scary thing is that I'm not at all convinced that you are insane."
"But," Jade continued, "you're both exhausted, and this is too much for you to accept in one sitting.
That's entirely understandable."
"There is a connection, though—for both of you," Lucien said with certainty. "We have to discover exactly what it is. And sooner than later."
Jade glanced at Lucien. "It may be daytime, but no one has had any sleep. We need to try to get a few hours in. That was just decaf, by the way," she told them, indicating the coffee. "Thinking that you're filled with caffeine can keep you awake, really. The mind can do incredible things."
"Yes, it can, can't it?" Grant said. "After all, we're actually sitting here, talking to you, as if you could really be a vampire. As if such creatures could really exist."
"He doesn't take much on faith, does he?" Lucien mused to Jade.
"He did ask for proof," Jade said.
As she spoke, Lucien disappeared from the chair where he had been sitting. Grant leaped to his feet, wary, coming to stand protectively behind Stephanie in a split second and single stride.
There was no puff of smoke, nothing. The man simply disappeared.
He had been there, and then he wasn't.
"You wanted proof," Jade reminded Grant quietly.