Invierea Page 21

  “Come on, Paul, time to man up. You need to know what it feels like, just one time. Do it,” I implored.

  “No, Paul,” his wife pleaded.

  His hand relaxed. I knew he did not have the balls to do it. I grabbed his hand forcefully, and pointed Loretta at his wife. “Damn it, Paul, I swear to God, if you don’t do it, I will kill your wife by your own hand.” He struggled against my strength feebly. Training the gun back at me I growled, “Last chance.”

  Loretta kicked, and with a muffled thump, a single bullet pierced my chest. The force of the shot was enough to send me tumbling backward. “Shit, that really hurt.”

  An incredible pain rocketed throughout my chest as blood pooled through my shirt. Paul’s wife screamed out in horror. I opened my shirt exposing the gaping hole left by the point blank shot. I grimaced a smile. I stepped back toward Paul. He pointed Loretta back at me, hands trembling uncontrollably.

  “It will not do any good, Paul. Much as I would like to die, I cannot. I got into some pretty heavy shit, some downright ungodly, supernatural shit. What you see is the end result. Beat me, shoot me, torture me, it just does not matter. There is no enemy I fear anymore. Send me to the gates of hell, they will open wide and welcome me home.”

  Aghast, he stared as the bleeding from my wound subsided and the flesh began to mend. “Why are you here?” he murmured as he contemplated the unfathomable spectacle.

  “It is your good fortune my original intentions have changed.”

  “How so?” Watson answered in a timid voice as he lowered Loretta.

  “It is pretty simple. Clean up the mess your shit head made in New York. His body is at the morgue, as should be my fiancée’s. I do not give a shit what you do with his, but I want Samantha’s body delivered to a destination of my choosing so I may lay her to rest properly. The cops are looking for me. They have surveillance video and other evidence. In short, I need you to make all of the shit that went down tonight disappear forever, understand?”

  “Then what?”

  “That is all. I disappear, you destroy any remaining files on me. You will never make any attempts to locate me … forever. In short, I die along with all of the evidence of last night.”

  Paul nodded, confirming his task. He wrote the manual on cleanup duty; mounds of records and evidence vaporized with a magic stroke of his wand.

  “Just so we are sure there are no misunderstandings, you need to know this, if I ever have to return to address anything, I will hold you, your family, and any of your friends personally responsible. And I will not understand, and I will not be forgiving. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  I snatched Loretta from his grip. “I want New York cleaned up by dawn. Am I clear?” I tossed him his cell phone. “Make the calls, Paul, the clock is ticking.”

  Sam and Angelique stealthily weaved their way through the streets of Greenwich Village, avoiding the obvious multitude of police present. The pair headed northeast, across NYU, and finally hailed a cab on Broadway. In reflective silence, the pair stared out the windows as the cab rolled up Third Avenue, eventually passing the scene of the shooting. Several CSI units remained, scouring for evidence, corralled by an abundance of yellow crime scene tape, stretched out only three hours earlier. Sam gazed curiously at the assembly, wondering why she suddenly felt uneasy.

  “This where you died,” Angelique said somberly.

  Sam touched her hand to the glass of the cab as they passed the blood-stained sidewalk.

  “Your spirit parted from the body you now inhabit, not the same body as the one it left behind. Nicholas began the transformation; I completed it, and summoned your spirit back. Although you are like us in many ways, your spirit began a journey that none of us have made. In time, you will teach us from your experiences.”

  “I honestly don’t think I’m qualified to teach anything.” Her death was all a blur, certainly no memories of any spiritual journey worth repeating. As they passed the crime scene she languished to be held in Nick’s strong arms. She hoped the emptiness she was experiencing would be filled by his touch once more. “We should stop here, and walk the rest of the way,” Sam suggested. Pointing to the cabbie, she whispered, “If we’re on the news, he doesn’t need to know where I live.”

  Waiting for the cab to disappear, before they began the four-block trek, Angelique studied her surroundings. “This is a nice neighborhood.”

  “Nick worked his butt off for this. I hope tonight does not jeopardize everything he’s accomplished. He is very fond of our life here.”

  Angelique abruptly stopped, and placed her hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Samantha, I must apologize, for what I did in New Orleans.”

  Sam looked oddly at Angelique. After all of the insanity of this night, Angelique’s date rape of Nick in New Orleans was the furthest thing from her mind. Last night, there sure would have been a discussion. In New Orleans, they were just two ordinary girls, well at least one, pining over the same guy. Okay, Angelique cheated, twice, and got pregnant, but it all had to be water under the bridge.

  “Angelique,” Sam hesitated, “you do not need …”

  Angelique chuckled. “Remind me when we have a minute, I have to show you how to close your thoughts.”

  “So you already know?”

  “Yes, your emotions are strong, and you are broadcasting them like you have a megaphone. It is most difficult for me to block what you are thinking. But I do need to apologize. It was wrong of me, regardless of you, to take advantage of Nicholas, or of any man in that manner. I allowed my cravings to control my actions. These are dangerous situations for all of us. Our very existence depends on our ability to control our emotions … and desires, no matter how strong.”

  “I have so much to learn. I’m going to need a lot of help.” Samantha pointed to the brownstone immediately ahead. “This is our home.”

  Samantha was apprehensive about seeing Nick. Surely he had suffered for her death, and now he would have to deal with her resurrection … all of it. As the elevator door opened she found it odd the apartment was mostly dark, with only the study desk dimly lit. “Nick?” Samantha called out. “It doesn’t look like anybody is home,” Sam announced as she stepped out of the elevator and walked in. Angelique followed, gazing at the spacious, well-furnished apartment, quite different from her home. “Your home is beautiful,” Angelique commented, as her fingers glided over a contemporary marble sculpture adorning the living area.

  “This was all Nick’s work, I think. Seems he has an eye for design, in addition to his other skills.”

  “Most fascinating,” Angelique said as she studied a Chagall hanging near the stairwell. “His taste in art is not unlike his father’s.”

  Samantha reached into the desk drawer, pulled out a new cell phone and dialed Nick’s number. On the counter in the kitchen, another phone began to ring. Sam turned eagerly expecting to see Nick had magically appeared from the back of the apartment. Eyeballing the phone, her heart sank. She could not remember the last time Nick left his phone behind. “Something is wrong.”

  Distraught, Samantha dialed Dee’s phone, as she checked the time. The empty ringing echoed through the speaker. “Come on Dee, pick up.” If everyone truly believed she had been killed earlier tonight, then there was no way somebody would not answer their phone. Sam dialed Phillip’s number as panic built. Surely he would answer. Dee had often complained how he was on call twenty four–seven. Once again, one unanswered ring, echoed by another, and then another. Samantha’s heartbeat accelerated.

  “Something is terribly wrong. Nobody is picking up their phones.”

  “Maybe they have gone to sleep.”

  “Not Nick. And Phillip always answers his phone, no matter what time it is. No, something is definitely wrong.” Sam paced to the stairs and then back to the desk, as Angelique observed in silence.

  “Do you know why I was shot?”

  “Probably the same reason they shot Nick, whatever that might be. All
I know is his anguish, both physical and emotional, was so strong that it summoned me, and guided me to you. But he was already gone when I arrived.”

  “The police were looking for us. Maybe they have picked up Dee and Phillip. Maybe Nick is with them as well,” Sam guessed. “What should we do?”

  “We should do nothing. If the police are looking for you, or more specifically, your body, and me, the last thing we should do is waltz into the precinct to be detained until sunrise.”

  “Well, I can’t just stay here, and wait, and hope they are all all right. What if the killer was looking for them as well? What if they’ve been shot?” Vampire or not, Samantha’s stomach was knotted with concern.

  Angelique thought briefly. “We can try your sister’s home, but we should hurry. One of the most important things you must always bear in mind, sunrise is no longer a thing of beauty. It is not forgiving. The sun’s rays will scorch your flesh like an inferno that will not turn loose of you. You must always be conscious of this and allow sufficient time to return to the safety of your casket.”

  “You sleep in a casket?” Sam was surprised to discover a vampire that followed the customs of old legend.

  “Yes, I do,” Angelique replied in a righteous tone. “Are you telling me Nicholas and Gabrielle do not follow tradition?”

  “No, we don’t,” Samantha confessed with a slight stutter, suddenly feeling awkward of their sleeping arrangements. “Do you want to see?”

  As they approached the bedroom, just beyond the door, a tall unkempt man entered the apartment from the private elevator. “As there is no door, can I come in?”

  Samantha and Angelique froze, surprised by his sudden appearance.

  “My name is Detective Logan, I know it’s late, but I have a few questions, if you don’t mind. It doesn’t look like you were headed off to bed anyhow, not with the elevator unlocked. Are you expecting company?”

  Angelique cut a sharp look at the detective. She did not trust the police, especially one as scraggly as this.

  Sam, much more diplomatic, put on her warm and inviting face. “It is late, detective. What can I do for you at this hour?”

  “Can you tell me your name?”

  “It is Samantha,” she replied, intentionally omitting her last name.

  “Do you have a last name Samantha?” Annoyed by her deliberate vagueness, his tone was demanding.

  “I do, but it is late, and until I know what business this concerns, I have no intention of sharing much more information.”

  At two in the morning, Logan was in no mood to put up with any shenanigans. “How about if I drag both of you down to the precinct first, then I’ll think about letting you in on what this is about.”

  Angelique, ready to deal with the detective on her terms, inched closer. She was in no disposition to tolerate his arrogant and dominant attitude. Sensing Angelique’s aggression rise, Samantha interceded, moving her body between Angelique and the detective.

  “Detective, unless you feel an overwhelming need to falsely arrest us, we are quite fine remaining here.”

  “Oh, I am quite sure I can find enough probable cause to arrest you,” he said as he inched into the foyer.

  Samantha thrust her hand against his chest. “Do you have a warrant to come in my home?”

  Logan was infuriated by her obstinance. Throughout his life, he was accustomed to using bully tactics to accomplish his goals. He was not about to let two Upper East Side ho-ho’s get in his way of solving the case tonight. Logan grabbed Samantha’s hand. “That’s assault lady, now you are going for a ride.” Pushing her to the wall, preparing for a cuff and frisk, he began to break into his Miranda rights recital.

  Sam immediately pushed Logan back to the doorway. “Assault? You do not enter my home without a warrant.”

  Logan took two steps back and drew his Glock. “On the floor, bitch,” he ordered.

  Angelique’s smile broadened. If this pathetic man only knew what he was actually dealing with. Instinctively intimidated by the initial appearance of a gun, Samantha stepped back and cowered in defense.

  “I said, on the floor, both of you.”

  Samantha began to drop to her knees, but Angelique stood defiantly, smiling all the while, happy he had not made the call for back up. Logan was going to thoroughly enjoy taking these two down. “Are you deaf lady, or just stupid?” Logan waved his gun in Angelique’s direction.

  “Samantha, get up. This ignorant little man can bring you no harm.” Angelique began walking slowly in the direction of the detective. “As I told you, there are a great many things for you to learn.”

  “Lady, one more step and I will drop you,” Logan warned, his voice suddenly lacking the confidence of his previous demand. Logan took aim.

  Before Logan could pull the trigger, his hand was left empty by Angelique’s light-speed reflexes. She thrust him back against the wall, elevated about a foot in the air, with her hands compressed around his throat. Instantly his face turned red, as Angelique glared in contempt.

  “You insignificant worm of a man. Tonight is indeed your lucky night, for you will live to see sunrise again. Angelique snarled, exposing her razor sharp fangs. “Yes, you know what I am. In your deepest fears you know what I will do”

  Logan’s eyes filled with terror as Angelique explored the depth of his fears. Telepathically, she filled his mind with dreadful images, death beyond realms of human comprehension.

  “Yes,” Angelique purred, “You can feel the pain of your lifeless body passing to the abyss.” Angelique turned and smiled at Samantha, lesson one in progress. “You will forget our paths ever crossed or I—will—kill—you, not just once, but a hundred times, each much more painful than the previous.”

  With his mind invaded by Angelique’s visions of morbid atrocities all he could do was plead, “Please, no …” The words escaped from the python-like grip of Angelique’s hand. Tears rolled out of his eyes as his body trembled with fear.

  Angelique released Logan without warning. He dropped to the floor and gasped for air. Angelique crouched down next to him. “If you would like to leave and live out your days without my attention, now would be the time. But I warn you, if you bring trouble, there will be nowhere to hide and no mercy offered.”

  Logan rose to his feet, then stumbled against the wall and into the elevator. “See to it that your people do not feel it necessary to call on this place, ever again,” Angelique warned as the elevator doors closed.

  “That was amazing,” Sam exclaimed. “Aren’t you worried he will return with the entire police department?”

  “No, he will not return. You will learn in time, how to strike fear so deep in the mortal mind that it will permeate for years in the subconscious mind, creating the most dreadful nightmares.”

  “I know those dreams.”

  “In time, you will learn to conquer them.”

  Captain Patrick grabbed the phone on his desk at four twenty in the morning as two federal agents swiftly approached his office.

  “Thanks for the heads up, but I think you’re a minute too late,” he said as he hung up the phone. He had somewhat expected a federal intrusion as potential roadblock, but certainly not before regular office hours.

  “Gentlemen,” Patrick called out, as he stepped out of his office to greet them. Had he had adequate warning, he would have slipped down the back stairs to buy his detectives a few more hours of investigative time. But cornered like a rat, he prepared for a dose of federal jurisdictional bullshit. “What can the NYPD do for you?

  The two feds looked at each other, the taller, younger of the two, nodded to the older agent. The dark-skinned black man with cotton white hair and gold rimless glasses cleared his throat. Unexpectedly soft-spoken, he introduced himself. “I am special agent Reid, and this is special agent Wilson. We should talk in your office.”

  “Agent Reid, I have no secrets from my squad. I assure you, whatever you have to say will be fully disclosed to each of them as expeditiously
as possible.”

  “Very well sir. We are here concerning the murder investigation assigned to your precinct. Your investigation involves an undercover agent, and matters of national security. I have in my possession written orders from Homeland Security demanding you hand over all evidence, including all forensic reports, evidence, corpses, suspects, and witness list. In essence, absolutely every shred of information you have collected connected with this investigation. You are also ordered to cease-and-desist any further investigation into the matter. Any evidence collected from this point on will be handed over immediately upon its discovery. There is to be no discussion, leaking of any details, or any further inquiries into this matter, by you, or any one within the New York City Police Department. Do you understand these orders as presented?”

  “Agent Reid, I understand the positions of Homeland Security completely, but let me make one thing clear. Two murders, that we know of, took place within my jurisdiction. I have an obligation to make sure criminals are brought to justice. If you have a loose cannon out there, I will not turn my back on further criminal activity. If I find out at any time you or your department have compromised the safety of my city, or integrity of our judicial system, I promise you, I will hang your ass out to dry. Do you completely understand my position?”

  Reid stared down Patrick for a good thirty seconds without speaking a word.

  “You don’t want to play this game,” Patrick stated firmly. “Not in my house.”

  “Fair enough, Captain,” Reid answered.

  Patrick bellowed out, “People, I want all files, records, memos, emails, anything relating to the mutant murders, on this desk.” He pounded on the first desk just outside his office to accentuate the location. “Within ten minutes. So move it, people.”

  Patrick leaned in toward Reid’s ear. “The female victim looked like an innocent bystander. I don’t know what kind of federal bullshit went down tonight, but just between you and me, somebody will go down for her murder.”