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  "Who are you talking about? Rialto?” Aria tried her best to appear calm although she suddenly felt queasy inside.

  "You know that's who I'm talking about. I ran a search on him and couldn't find anything. It's like he doesn't even exist."

  "How much info can you find on a person going by their name alone, Detective?"

  "I have my ways of finding people in the system, Aria."

  "Too bad you don't seem to have any way to catch a killer,” she snapped.

  "Aria—"

  "Shut up, Porter. If you want to help me, you need to lay off my friends and focus on the fact that there is a killer on the loose. Rialto doesn't have anything to do with my mother's murder so he shouldn't be of any concern to you."

  "According to my brother, he just might have something to do with it."

  "Your brother is a dumb ass.” Aria stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut before the detective could make another comment. She looked through the window to see him shake his head before pulling away from the curb.

  "Sweets, is that you?” Trevaris asked from behind her. “What's goin’ on with your skin, girl? You look all pale again."

  She turned to answer but stopped as she caught sight of the two very pissed off looking vampires walking toward her.

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  Chapter Fourteen

  "Sweets? You know these people?” Trevaris's voice was full of caution as Seta and Rialto drew closer, their faces twin masks of fury. Aria could almost see Trevaris jumping to her aid, if Rialto snatched her up, which looked like a definite possibility judging by the tight set of his mouth, and that would cause one huge problem.

  "I'm all right, Trevaris,” she answered before the two vamps could swoop down on her. “They're really close friends. I'm safe with them.” She no more than made that statement before Rialto's hand clamped around her arm and pulled her none too gently toward the apartment building's front steps.

  "Hey, just a minute, man!” Trevaris's angry voice boomed behind her. She turned her head in time to see Seta raise a hand, and then Trevaris went flying backward. Fortunately a pile of garbage bags cushioned his fall.

  "Stay out of this, fool,” Seta cautioned him. “She is safe with us."

  "You didn't have to hurt him,” Aria snapped as she was pulled toward her apartment.

  "If I wanted to hurt him I would have ripped out an organ,” Seta responded matter-of-factly.

  Once inside the apartment, Rialto released his grip on Aria's arm and turned her to face him, the anger in his dark, penetrating eyes burning through her. “Don't you ever do that to me again. You can't begin to imagine all the horrible images that went through my mind when I woke and discovered you were gone.” His voice was a thunderous boom, his body shaking with barely constrained anger. Aria could only look at him.

  "He nearly ripped Christian's head off when he figured out how you escaped,” Seta said from behind her. “You owe the poor man an apology."

  Christian. He'd trusted her even when he knew she'd wanted out. The last thing she'd wanted to do was to get him into trouble or cause a rift between the two old friends. “I'm sorry."

  "Sorry and stupid.” Rialto glowered at her. “I told you of Mother's vision. Someone wants you dead!"

  "We've got more immediate problems here,” she said.

  Rialto's eyes widened, full of incredulity. “Is that a joke or are you that unconcerned with that little thing called your life?"

  "Just calm down and I'll explain."

  "Calm down?” Rialto shook his head. “Do you realize my heartbeat has just now returned to normal? We raced straight here, and what do I find? You in a car with some man. I thought it was the killer, Aria. I thought he'd captured you."

  "Rialto, you know it was the detective you met here a few days ago."

  "I realized that when I got a good look at him, but I didn't know it when I first approached. I thought you were in danger. Scared the hell out of me. What were you doing in the detective's car anyway?"

  "That's what I'm trying to tell you. He saw you—both you and Seta."

  Seta's head snapped up from the painting she'd been studying. “Saw us? What are you talking about?"

  "He saw the two of you last night when Rialto passed out. He saw you pick him up and vanish into thin air. He knows you're not regular people."

  Seta and Rialto exchanged startled glances as Aria walked over to the sofa and sank down into the soft, inviting cushions. What she really needed was a warm, bubbly hot tub to ease away her tension, but the sofa would have to do.

  "Should we fear this man?” Seta asked her son.

  "He's a detective. I don't know much about him, but I sensed his immediate suspicion when we met. I remember he reached for his gun, then stopped mid-action when he realized what he was doing. He might be a hunt-now-ask-questions-later type."

  "Oh, he's asking questions,” Aria said on the tail of a yawn, suddenly exhausted. “He wants to know what you are and what you're doing here."

  "What did you tell him?” Seta gave Aria a hard look which made her shiver with fear.

  "Nothing, of course. But Christian needs to be warned. The guy's brother is investigating him, doesn't think he's what he appears to be."

  "Who is this brother?"

  "John or Jack, or . . . Jake maybe?” Aria tried to recall the name of the detective's brother as Seta's inquiring eyes bore into her. The witch didn't look pleased.

  "Could it be Jake Porter?"

  "Yes, that's it. Do you know him?"

  Seta let out a string of curses that would redden the cheeks of a hardened criminal and turned toward her son. “Jake Porter is that demon-hunting pit bull who ran Christian out of his last church. He was just a kid then. Imagine the damage he can do now.” She turned sharp eyes back to Aria. “Watch out for that detective. He can't be trusted."

  "Well, he's working the serial killer case so I'm going to have the occasional run-in with him. And he's extremely curious about the two of you, for all the wrong reasons. He even suggested Rialto could be involved in the murders."

  "What?” Aria cringed at Rialto's bellow. “What would give him that idea?"

  "Probably the fang holes in the neck,” Aria answered. “I think he's starting to believe in vampires, and with what he saw last night, his imagination has probably kicked into high gear. Then there's the brother. He's telling him things, giving him ideas."

  "Well, that's just great. All we need while hunting a killer is a detective hunting us.” Rialto sank into the cushions next to her, resting his head along the back of the sofa. His cheeks were red, his breathing heavier than normal. All of the anger inside him must have taken its toll.

  "Rialto, you shouldn't work yourself up."

  "I'm fine,” he snapped, causing her to pull back her hand before it reached his shoulder.

  "She's right,” Seta interjected. “Your energy is being spent far too fast. Let's all calm down and try to figure this thing out.” She paced the floor in front of them, then turned toward Aria with her hands fisted on her hips. “And just why, may I ask, did you even leave to begin with, Aria?"

  Aria swallowed, feeling two feet tall under the witch's hardened glare. “I thought I might find something at the library, a way to help Rialto get over this sickness."

  "Well, after the fear you inflicted upon my child, I hope you did find something useful after all."

  "Actually, I did find something. A strange book, like a devil worship manual. It had something in there about The Blood Revelation. I understand the situation better now."

  Seta's eyebrow arched in a sardonic gesture. “And you found a cure for Rialto's sickness?"

  "You know I didn't. According to the book, he won't get better unless I'm changed over. But . . .” Aria let her voice trail off, unsure of what she was going to say.

  "What? Spit it out, child."

  Aria looked at Rialto, his intense eyes studied hers. There was something swirling inside them, som
ething that gave him the appearance of a wounded animal. That look reached through Aria's chest and squeezed her heart. “There's still hope."

  "Don't, Aria.” Rialto's voice was a low rumble of distant thunder. “Don't ask me to change you just to save my life. This gift is an eternal curse—if you even survive it."

  "Rialto!” Seta's harsh tone lashed out like a whip. “Don't be foolish! I've told you that Aria's one of us. If she's finally realized what needs to be done then, damn it to hell, let her do it!"

  "Actually, Seta, that wasn't what I was referring to.” Aria sank deeper into the sofa cushions as Seta glared at her, obviously infuriated. She couldn't fight the feeling that if the killer didn't get to her first, Seta would probably do her in. “I haven't told you about Curtis yet."

  "Who the hell is Curtis?"

  "He works at the library. He's this geeky, scrawny little guy who talks to me a lot. He has a crush on me, I think.” Aria felt Rialto tense next to her and suppressed a grin. She liked the idea of him being a bit jealous. “He gave me his great-grandfather's journal a few days ago, said the guy was a vampire hunter."

  "It was Alfred Dunn's journal,” Rialto interjected. His voice sounded strange.

  Seta's eyebrows shot up. “Alfred Dunn? The man who hunted for Eron? Why didn't you tell me this before?"

  "I didn't think it mattered since I had every intention of destroying it once this situation was resolved. And I didn't know Aria had obtained the journal from the man's great-grandchild."

  "What was in it?"

  Aria answered Seta's question. “It started off like a story, detailing how Eron killed Alfred's son, Patrick, and how Alfred went looking for him but couldn't find him. Then he added in lists of vampires and places they could be found. Eventually his writing got kind of crazy and didn't make any sense. There were parts that were completely unreadable."

  "Are you sure there wasn't anything important in it? It was the man's life mission to destroy Eron."

  "Well, I didn't think there was anything in it that could prove harmful, but after the way Curtis acted tonight . . ."

  "What did he do?” Rialto sat up and leaned toward Aria, his eyes wide and focused, his jaw locked. He looked like a wild animal ready to pounce. “Did he harm you?"

  "No,” Aria answered with a shiver, “but if Porter hadn't walked in when he did I'm scared to think what would have happened. He came into the library all banged up, said he'd been mugged. He was acting crazy."

  "Crazy how?"

  "Just weird. He said he needed the journal back, that it belonged to his brother and he hadn't asked permission to take it. When I asked why his brother needed it, he got hostile. He even demanded I allow him to drive me home so he could retrieve it tonight. Said he had to have it, couldn't wait."

  "Seems like he was awfully eager to have it,” Seta commented. “I wonder why the sudden need."

  "Yeah, and that's not all.” Aria shivered again as a cold chill snaked its way along her spinal column. “The book I told you about earlier wasn't a library book, but I found it on the shelves. He seemed disturbed by the fact that I was reading it, mad even. He told me to put it back on the shelf so the owner would come back and get it, said it shouldn't fall into the wrong hands. But it would have made more sense if I'd kept it or destroyed it instead of putting it back on the shelf where it very well might land in the wrong hands."

  "He just didn't want you to have it.” Seta's eyebrows drew together as she mulled over the new information. “Maybe the book was left there for you. Maybe you're being guided."

  "By whom?"

  "The Dream Teller?” Rialto suggested. “You dreamed of her earlier. So did I."

  "That's possible but not likely,” Seta commented as she paced the floor with her finger to her chin. “She's never stepped outside the dream realm."

  "Are you saying she only exists in dreams?"

  "No. She must have a physical form, but she's never appeared to anyone in it. She's never stepped outside the bounds of the dream world."

  "Who else would be guiding me?” Aria asked, goosebumps rising on her flesh at the thought of someone watching over her, guiding her. It seemed so intrusive.

  "Have you ever seen a spirit?"

  "Are you seriously trying to say a ghost left that book in the library?"

  Seta shrugged. “It was just a thought. Truth is, the Elders may be behind the book. What was in it?"

  "A lot of demonic stuff. Spells and rituals. Really dark stuff involving sacrifices and altars. Who are the Elders? Are they the three mentioned in the book?"

  "What three?"

  "The three vampires who refused to let evil inside them when they were transformed."

  Seta nodded slowly, her eyes widening. “That would probably be them. We don't know much about our origins. We've heard of the Elders though. They're like rulers, judging our fates. With you being predestined to become one of us, it's a definite possibility they're guiding you toward us."

  "If that was the intention of whomever left the book, they were wrong. According to it, I will be hunted until I give birth, and if I make it that far my child will be hunted. Why in the world would I knowingly give birth to a child who would have to live its life in hiding?"

  "The same reason why your mother gave birth to you in that hick town. Love."

  Aria drew back as though she had been slapped. The witch looked at her with a smug twist to her lips, knowing she had made her point. And, as much as Aria hated to admit it, Seta was right. Aria's mother had known a biracial child would be unwelcome in Pickahoe and that her paternity would have to be hidden, but she'd had her anyway. Aria couldn't help feeling ashamed that she wasn't as courageous and loving as her mother. “Yeah, well, if I never have the child I'll never love it, will I?"

  Seta rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath that Aria suspected was unpleasant. “And here I thought you were smart. You'll get what I was referring to when the time is right. I hope.” She looked pointedly at Aria and snapped her fingers impatiently. “Get me this journal. Maybe it has something to do with the visions I've been having about books with blood coming out of the pages."

  Aria shuddered at the image, but dutifully retrieved the journal from the backpack she'd left on the floor next to the sofa. “There's a lot of research in there,” she said as she handed the book over to Seta. “I was hoping maybe there's something about The Blood Revelation in there that I missed. Some way to help Rialto without me having to . . . you know."

  Sparks of anger danced around Seta's pupils but soon dissolved, her eyes growing warm and compassionate. “If I find anything in here, I can guarantee it won't be that. Sometimes we have to accept our fate.” She looked at her son. “Before it's too late and we end up living with guilt and regret."

  He was going to lose his mind. Rialto clenched his fists together and bit into his lower lip, trying to fight back the urge to kick down the door to Aria's bathroom and drag her out of the shower stall and into his arms. Making it to the bed wouldn't even be an option.

  "I know what you're thinking,” Seta sang from where she was sitting at the dinette table, poring over Alfred Dunn's journal. “Go on in there. She's already naked so that part's out of the way. I'll just pretend I don't hear all the noise."

  "Stay out of my head, Mother."

  "Don't call me Mother in that tone. You make me feel as though I gave birth to Norman Bates.” She looked up from the journal and stared him down with a look of utter ruthlessness. “We are bonded as mother and child, and as sire and fledgling. I can't help knowing what goes through your mind when your emotions are this strong. I won't do you any favors by ignoring what's going on.” She dropped her gaze back down to the book before her. “Your body is craving what it needs for survival. I'll be damned if I don't at least try to nudge your foolish ass in the right direction."

  Rialto growled, wishing there was some way to turn off his mind link with his mother when she was determined to snoop. His body quivered
as he heard another splash of water hit Aria's skin, imagined the tiny droplets of water drizzle over the curves of her naked flesh. Damn his overactive imagination and hypersensitive hearing! The smells of soap and rain scented shampoo wafted out and teased his nose, driving him closer to the breaking point.

  He could see himself kneeling before her on the slippery tile, using his tongue to trace the drops of water from her ankle, working his way up slowly, making her tremble with desire, following the wet path, dipping into hollows here and there until he reached one dusky nipple, already pebbled in anticipation of his mouth. “Son of a bitch!"

  Seta laughed, refusing to stop when Rialto tried to quell her with a hard glare. “I'm sorry, darling, but from here it's rather amusing. Just give in to it."

  "I can't. Just stay out of my head."

  "Fine.” She raised her hands in mock surrender. “But I'm not the only woman in this apartment that can feel what's going through your system. You bonded with her."

  "What?"

  Seta smiled devilishly. “She feels you and everything you're thinking of over there is running through her mind too. Why do you think she's still in the shower? She's trying to cool off."

  "You don't know what you're talking about."

  "I'm a woman, Rialto. I know what I'm talking about. She's in there, hot, wet . . . in more ways than one . . . and waiting.” She nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “You don't have to change her over tonight. Just take a little sip and get your strength back. You'll need it to protect her if we come across the killer. And for goodness sake, don't pass up the opportunity because I'm here. I'll sever our link."

  "You would do that?"

  Seta grimaced. “What do you take me for? It's one thing to know what you're doing, but to experience it with you from inside your own body . . . That's just sick."

  Rialto looked down the hall, focusing on the bathroom door. It was such a thin barrier between him and pure carnal bliss. Yet, he couldn't raise his body from the sofa.

  "You know you want to,” Seta said in the same singsong teasing tone she had used earlier. “Go get her, cowboy.” She erupted into chuckles as Rialto speared her with a look of annoyance and forced himself to stand. Just a little sip of blood mingled in with great sex, he reminded himself, as he put one foot in front of the other. He could do this. He could keep things under control.