Blood Curse Page 6

  "Anyway, some of the stuff in this journal is accurate, like the lists of names and known hangouts, even if it's outdated. Most of what's in here, though, are just the bitter rantings of an old man who loved his son dearly and refused to see the evil inside him."

  "An old man who insisted on blaming the real evil on your kind."

  "Yes, and it sickened him that he was intrigued by us. Many are intrigued by us. It's not a crime."

  Aria cringed under his gaze, knowing exactly what he was referring to. Unfortunately, what she felt while watching him feed was more than intrigue. It was the same thing that coursed through her blood in those fragments of dreams she remembered. Pure, undiluted lust.

  "What's the reality, Rialto? What's it like being a vampire?"

  He sighed heavily, seeming to mull over the thought. “We're just like everyone else, only we're harder to kill and we do need to drink blood to live, just not as often as people would assume. Unless of course we want to remain powerful. As I said earlier, there are good and bad in all life forms. That's true for us, too. But the good ones—we try to destroy the bad before they can do any harm.” His eyes closed for a second and Aria saw a slight flinch as his skin pulled taut. She wondered what awful memory he was reliving but didn't dare to ask.

  Then he opened his eyes and continued, “Bottom line, we're stronger than you and we're immune to disease. Some may think it's great to live nearly forever but it's a lonely existence and I wouldn't change over anyone."

  "Change over?” Aria couldn't hold back the awe that escaped into her voice but immediately wished she had when Rialto's hard, burning eyes torched through her. “Not that I want to be changed over. I was just curious. I mean, can anyone be turned? How exactly does it work?"

  "None of your damn business.” Rialto rose abruptly and moved across the room, stopping in front of a piece of artwork hanging on the wall. He pretended to study it, but the effort was a thin disguise. He was avoiding her curiosity, clear and simple.

  Aria wrung her hands, unsure what she'd done to offend him. Had she even offended him or was something else wrong? She wished she could see his face. Maybe it held a clue as to what was going through his mind, but he kept his back to her.

  Turning her head to gaze out the window, she was instantly filled with alarm. The first pale golden hues were rising in the sky, indicating the coming of dawn, and there was a vampire standing in her living room.

  "The sun is starting to come up,” she said, an edge of panic in her voice. “Shouldn't you be locked in a coffin or secured in a dark cave by now?"

  His back shook with laughter. “You have been watching way too many movies,” he said, turning to face her. She took in the laugh lines splayed around his eyes and wondered how old he'd been when he'd been turned. Late twenties to early thirties, she assumed. “Ironically,” he said, his mouth twisting into a grin, “I did hide in a cave just a few days ago as I entered Maryland, but only because I could sense you so strongly and my stubbornness wouldn't allow me to take time to rent a room. I don't need a coffin, Aria. A dark room will suffice."

  "But I thought the slightest bit of daylight—"

  He cut her off with a shake of his head. “Only direct rays from the sun can harm us, not daylight itself, and I'm old enough that I've built up some immunity. I can't tolerate it for long, but I won't instantly burst into flame."

  "But you'll still burn before you can get back to where you're staying?"

  "Yes."

  Aria bit her lip, her gut instincts warring with common sense. He was a vampire, a strong, incredibly fast predator who drank human blood and had nearly lost control with her once. Yet he was also a protector, a man who'd saved her from two street punks and had rescued a young girl from a brutal pimp. He was also her best chance of seeing justice rendered. If the police caught her mother's killer they'd put him in a prison and he might be released years later. If Rialto caught him, he'd ensure the killer never hurt anyone again.

  "You can stay here,” she said quickly, before she could change her mind. “I'll sleep in my mother's room, you take mine, but I warn you that I'm a light sleeper, and if you so much as poke your head through the bedroom door, I'll separate it from your neck. Vampire or not, that would kill anybody."

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  Chapter Five

  A cold wind breezed over her body, waking her gently from sleep. She opened her eyes, her gaze following a trail of white fog which entered the bedroom from beneath the door. The cold chill left her body, replaced by warmth and a sense of familiarity as the fog swirled upwards at the side of her bed, taking human shape

  She pushed the sheets aside and sat up in bed, her heart beating rapidly as the person emerging from the mist became increasingly more familiar.

  Warm tears trickled down her cheek as she blinked, emotion clogging her throat to the point she couldn't speak. Her mother stood before her, a vision of beauty in a long, white gossamer gown. Her pale blond hair shimmered, as though backlit by the sun, and her smile was pure radiance

  "You're dead,” Aria managed to whisper as fresh tears slid down her face. “You can't be here.

  "I am always with you,” her mother said, her smile fading. “Even in death I will watch over you."

  "What's wrong?” Aria asked, watching fear seep into her mother's eyes as cold air once more stirred through the room.

  "Danger comes your way."

  "What danger?"

  "I should have warned you earlier, taught you to be stronger.

  Her mother's image shimmered, blinking in and out. Aria reached for her, but her hand found no purchase. Her mother was only there in spirit, a spirit which was quickly fading.

  "Warned me of what? The killer? Mama, who killed you? Tell me his name!"

  "I don't know the name, only the face.” She was fading faster now, mist swirling up from the floor to cocoon her again.

  "Mom!

  "Watch out for the vampire,” her mother said as the fog engulfed her and she vanished.

  Aria woke to find her hand had gone stiff from clutching the crosses around her neck during the night. Her skin was pebbled with goosebumps and dried tears were sticky on her cheeks, but she was alone in the room. No chilled air or tendrils of mist remained.

  "It was just a dream,” she whispered, not the least bit surprised. It was the first time since her mother's death that she'd set foot in the room. Her mother's scent was everywhere. Between it and her apprehension about Rialto being so near it was a wonder she'd been able to sleep at all.

  Rialto.

  She threw back the covers and swung her feet to the floor. She'd slept fully clothed, wanting to be ready if she had to wake up to fight off a vampire attack. Despite her gut's insistence that Rialto wasn't a complete monster, she'd decided to follow common sense and keep her guard up. Then there was the dream.

  Watch out for the vampire.

  It was a bit of advice she definitely planned to heed. Glancing at the clock on her mother's nightstand she saw she'd slept until well past noon. “I must have been more tired than I thought,” she murmured as she looked around the room, her heart aching as the familiar smell of her mother's belongings overwhelmed her.

  She straightened the rose-colored bedding and lovingly ran her finger down the lacy sham which had once rested under her mother's golden head. “I miss you, Mom,” she whispered and walked across the room to the closet. She opened the door and the dam holding back her tears broke free as she looked at her mother's beautiful dresses and abundant supply of shoes. “So many beautiful things but none as beautiful as you,” she said on a gasp as the pain overtook her. “I'll find your killer, Mom. I'll make sure he pays."

  She stood there until she could bring her emotions under control. There were boxes in the closet that she knew she should probably go through, but she couldn't do it yet. She never would have gone through her mother's things were she still living, so to do so now would only solidify the brutal reality that her mother was
gone forever.

  The phone rang from the living room, grabbing her attention. She closed the closet door, removed the chair she'd propped before the bedroom door and exited into the living area. She answered the phone and smiled as Trevaris's sweet voice filtered through the receiver. The building's maintenance man had become like a family member during her years residing here, and he had been extremely watchful over her since her mother's death.

  "Hey there, Sweets. Thought I'd check up on ya. I saw that you had a visitor late last night."

  "Those old eyes of yours sure don't miss a thing,” she responded with a smile.

  "Somebody has to watch out for you, young'un. Did these old eyes see wrong or was your visitor a gentleman caller?"

  "He's just a friend."

  "Uh-huh,” Trevaris said, his tone indicating he wasn't buying her explanation. “It'd do you some good to have a man in your life. You just make sure he treats you like the treasure you are, Sweets. I may be getting up there, but I can still swing a mean bat. Don't make me have to break no legs off of somebody, ya hear?"

  "You are crazy,” Aria said through a chuckle, not bothering to mention the bat probably wouldn't work against Rialto unless it was sharpened to a point and rammed straight through his heart. “And my guest is nothing more than a friend.” Oddly, a wave of disappointment rolled over her as she made the firm statement, and she found herself longing for something more than friendship. Maybe Trevaris was right. Maybe it had been too long since she'd had a romantic interest, since she'd put her fear aside and allowed herself to take the chance.

  "Whatever you say, Sweets. Just be careful. A lot of these young men nowadays just don't know how to act around a decent lady like yourself."

  "I'll remember,” she promised before ending the call.

  She walked down the small hall toward her bedroom and stared at the closed door. There was a vampire in there, she cautioned herself as she gripped the door handle, wondering if he were lying in wait for her. Her hand grew sweaty, slipping away from the knob. This is ridiculous, she thought as she wiped her damp hand on her pant leg. She'd sweat buckets last night, and without a shower she knew she was a pungent mess. Her clothes were beyond the door and she'd need to get them before stepping into the shower, unless she wanted to walk around in nothing but a towel until the vampire rose. No, she thought, that wouldn't be a good idea, not when she could still recall the images from the dreams she'd had, and he had apparently had some interesting dreams himself. She didn't want to give him such a broad expanse of skin to notice. And if what she'd read was true, the vampire's lust for sex could quickly give way to other forms of lust, forms which could lead to her death.

  She took a deep breath and slowly, quietly, turned the knob and pushed the door open.

  He lay on his back in the middle of her bed, the thin white sheets pulled up to his waist, leaving his chest bare. She couldn't help staring at his torso's muscled perfection, wondering why so many books described vampires as being pale and gaunt. That description couldn't be any further from the truth.

  Tilting her head, she studied his sleeping form and noticed his chest didn't rise and fall like a person's should. It was as if he was . . . dead.

  She walked over to the nightstand and took out one of the stakes she'd started keeping there since her mother's death. Holding it carefully in one hand, she cautiously approached the vampire in her bed. He made no sound or movement. He wasn't breathing at all.

  Slowly, with the fear of him popping up at any moment, Aria placed her free hand over his heart and, after a long moment, felt the barest of flutters.

  "Rialto.” She spoke his name sharply and waited for him to open his eyes. When he didn't, her own heart skipped a beat. “Rialto!"

  I'm all right. Do not worry.

  Aria sucked in a breath of surprise. She'd heard his voice clearly, although his lips had never moved. “Rialto?"

  He didn't speak again, if speaking was befitting a term for what she had just experienced. Was it telepathy? she wondered as she placed her fingertip to the corner of his mouth and traced the smooth lines of his lips. She studied his face and tried to guess his ancestry. He could be a deeply tanned white man, but she also picked up a bit of Hispanic in his features.

  "How hard life must have been for you back then,” she wondered aloud, speaking more to herself as images of her youth flashed through her mind. She'd faced her fair share of ridicule growing up biracial, and she'd been born in the late seventies, when such a thing was more accepted. When was he born? And where? She found herself longing to know everything about his past, all two centuries or so of it.

  Sensing no danger from him, she lowered the stake she'd kept poised over his chest and walked to her dresser to pull out clothes for the day, opting for a dark gray T-shirt and worn jeans.

  After showering and dressing, Aria emerged from the bathroom to hear her phone ringing. She continued towel drying her hair as she quickly walked into the living room and grabbed the handset.

  "Hello?"

  "Ms. Michaels? It's Detective Porter, Baltimore Homicide."

  Great. Aria felt a ball of nausea start to roll around in her belly and quickly sat on the edge of her coffee table. “Yes?"

  "Ms. Michaels, I thought I should prepare you for the latest development before you catch anything on the news."

  "Latest development? This has something to do with my mother's murder?"

  "We think so. We'll be right over. Please stay where you are."

  Aria held the phone in her hand after she heard the click indicating the connection had been broken. She could tell by the man's tone that the news wasn't good. What was so bad that they had to tell her in person?

  Rialto opened his eyes as he came out of the deep sleep and immediately smelled the presence of strangers. He was on his feet in half a second, pulling on his shirt as he crept barefoot down the hallway toward the sound of voices. He didn't sense physical danger, but something had upset Aria terribly. He paused for a moment to wonder how he knew that without seeing her, then quickly shook off his wonderment. It was irrelevant how he knew.

  He entered the living room to find Aria sitting on the coffee table with her back to him, a strange man and woman standing before her. The woman, a stocky brunette with a bun pulled back so tight she couldn't physically blink, noticed him first.

  "Who are you?” she asked.

  The man, a tall dark-haired Caucasian with a lean build, jerked to attention. His hand quickly reached under his jacket, but just as quickly halted as confusion filtered through his eyes. “Where did you come from?” His tone clearly indicated he wasn't happy with Rialto's presence.

  "Are you going to shoot me?” Rialto asked, his mood bordering between amused and annoyed. The way the woman carried herself all but screamed cop. As for the man, well, he screamed cop too. Nervous cop. What did he see in Rialto that would make him instantly go for his weapon?

  "This is my friend,” Aria explained, her voice shaking with emotion. “He's been staying with me."

  "Rialto Renaldi,” he introduced himself as the male detective lowered his hand, no longer seeming to need his gun. The woman eyed him curiously, but Rialto ignored her, his attention stolen by Aria's distraught expression. Her eyes were glossy and red, soon to lose their battle with the tears threatening to fall. “What is it, Aria?"

  "They think my mother was killed by a serial killer."

  "You found another victim?"

  Rialto directed the question toward the male officer, but it was the woman who took a step in his direction. “We can't discuss—"

  "You can discuss anything in front of him,” Aria snapped, turning her head to face the pair. “He's my fiance."

  The two detectives looked at each other, silently conferring, before the woman spoke again. “I'm Detective Reilly, this is Detective Porter. There was a second body found last month, and we found another woman's body in Leakin Park late last night. Both bodies were drained of blood and there were two smal
l holes in their necks. We never released that bit of information to anyone outside the department, so we know this isn't a copycat killer. We have officers searching parks as we speak, seeing if we can turn up any other bodies, but so far it seems as though the killer doesn't have a preference for one specific park. Who knows what might turn up where."

  "Who,” Aria corrected the woman, her face devoid of expression but her tone firm. “Not ‘what.’ They may be dead bodies to you but they're someone's loved ones. They're people."

  Rialto squeezed Aria's shoulder and glared at the insensitive woman as she muttered a small and meaningless apology. Reilly appeared older than Porter and had undoubtedly already witnessed enough cruelty in her profession to rob her of compassion. Rialto understood completely. Many a vampire had been turned bad by witnessing evil in abundance. Rialto hoped it would never happen to him, no matter how badly it sometimes hurt to care.

  "We just wanted you to know before it's out in the open,” Porter said. “We have to release a warning to the citizens of Baltimore since it appears we may have a serial killer on our hands. You realize this means there may be reporters wanting to speak with you?"

  Rialto felt Aria cringe beneath his palm. He wouldn't allow the press to get to her, no matter what it took.

  "I'm sorry for your loss, Ms. Michaels,” Porter added. “I wanted to make sure you were aware of the progress of the case and prepared for the possibility of being approached by the media. It's important that if you are questioned you don't give out any information, especially the fact that holes were found in your mother's neck."

  The man's voice was compassionate, as though he truly cared about Aria's feelings. However, the look he gave Rialto was anything but warm. “We'll leave you now, if you're sure you're all right.” He stared at Rialto, his eyes full of accusation. Why?

  He had his answer a moment later when Aria reassured the detectives that she was fine and saw them to the door. He watched as the male detective took Aria's hand and squeezed it, assuring her he would do everything possible to catch the killer. With sudden fury, he realized that the detective had a romantic interest in her. He balled his fists in response and felt the pressure of his fangs pressing through his gums, but he quickly schooled himself.