Darkness Calls (19 page)

R
yder walked along the wall of the club, staying out of sight until he reached the door to his office. Normally he would wait in there until the bar closed, but tonight he didn't think he could stay at the club any longer. He'd be too tempted to find her. To make things right with her, which he knew was impossible. He was a vampire and she was a human. Not the foundation for a long-term relationship.

He settled for slipping into the security area, where the guard sensed something was wrong. “You okay, Mr. Latimer?”

Ryder waved him off. “I'm fine, Nate. I'm just going to sit here and watch for a little while. Then head home.”

Nate nodded but grumbled beneath his breath, “Boss, you look like you need…Heck, I don't know what.”

What he needed was visible on the monitor from the camera trained on the front door. She was walking in with her partner and looked a little shell-shocked. David stood close beside her, his hand on her shoulder as if offering support.

Ryder tamped down his jealousy. Diana required David's assistance right now, on several levels. And as for what Ryder and Diana had together—it was over. He'd seen to that quite effectively. He rubbed at the sore spot over his heart. It would heal. After all, he had all the time in the world. Eternity was surely enough to heal a broken heart. And the first step to healing would be to leave. To acknowledge that he was done with her and had no reason to continue sitting here, watching her.

But he stayed, tracking her passage by way of the various cameras. He watched intently, ignoring the ache in his heart that he suspected not even his immortality would mend.

 

“How could we have lost him?” Diana asked as the reports filtered in on the wire.

David stood beside her as the club emptied after the last call. “I don't know, Di. We had a clear shot of him as he ran out, but—”

Another agent interrupted to say they had found a black shirt and pants tossed next to a Dumpster a few doors down, at another club.

Diana mumbled a curse. The killer might have gone into the other club and selected his next victim while they had been wasting time trying to find him at The Lair. “Spread out along the block. Advise everyone that he may be wearing something different,” she instructed over the wire.

“Me and my people got the other locations covered, Diana,” Peter Daly said.

“The darker hair was a dye job, Peter. Tell your people he may have washed it out in addition to changing his clothes.” She stood with David until only a few stragglers lingered near the bar, finishing the last of their drinks. Finally, the bartenders shooed them out and she and David stepped outside to view the exodus from the establishments along the strip.

“This is impossible,” she groused, and glanced at her partner, who was busy scouring the crowd.

Diana rose on her tiptoes, looking for the suspect and, she had to admit to herself, Ryder. She had no luck finding either. As the last lingering patrons sauntered away in search of other places to play, Peter Daly and a few of his uniformed officers headed her way.

“Any luck?”

When he shook his head, she blew out a harsh sigh and raised her bandaged hand to run it through her hair.

“What happened, Diana?” Peter asked, and she dropped her hand quickly. “Nothing. Just an accident.”

He narrowed his eyes, seeing through her ruse, but only said, “You got a real good look at him.”

“I did and maybe so did the cameras. Let's grab the tapes and go take a look.”

“Are you sure you're up for it?” David asked, clearly worried about her.

“I'm okay. Let's just get going. I need to get some rest.” There was no way she could make it through the whole night. She was too exhausted, both physically and emotionally, after her battle with Ryder.

Diana turned and headed back into the club.

 

Ryder watched her come back in. Her partner and the police detective were in tow, and he knew it was time for him to go. He clapped Nate on the back as he moved away from the bank of monitors.

“Aren't you going to wait for your lady?”

Ryder glanced at the monitors and noticed she was fast approaching. The last thing either of them needed was to run into each other again tonight. “The lady and I…You know how things go, Nate. Nothing lasts forever.” He quickly strode out of the security room, leaving Nate muttering under his breath about the foolishness of the young.

The comment brought a strangled laugh to Ryder's throat. He had about a hundred years on Nate and was well aware of the stupidity of love. He'd made the biggest of mistakes after all.

When he slipped out via a side door, the street was almost empty, much as it was every night after closing. He fished his keys out of his pocket and walked halfway up the block. There he crossed over to the small driveway behind the restaurant where he parked his van every night. It was one of the conditions in the lease on the space for the eatery. A space he owned.

While he walked, he thought about the man who had danced with Diana tonight and whom she seemed to think was the suspect. He slowed and juggled the keys in his hand. Something finally clicked.

He looked at the back of the restaurant where an assortment of Dumpsters and bins waited for trash and laundry pickup in the morning. That was when it came to him—the man picked up the laundry for the restaurant. Ryder had seen him more than one morning on his way home.

He turned, intent on returning to the club to tell Diana and her colleagues, but he didn't get far. The young man in question was waiting behind him, a long length of wood in his hand. Ryder had no opportunity to block the first blow, which caught him against the side of the head, stunned him and drove his head against the window of the van. He laid his hand on the side-view mirror, struggling to stay upright.

The second blow took him down.

 

Ryder woke slowly, his head and body throbbing with pain. As he became totally alert, he realized he was hanging like a side of beef from a hook. He'd been stripped of all of his clothing and his body was chilled from the cold and damp. Ropes bound his wrists as did a chain that had been looped around a metal hook driven deep into a thick, hand-hewn wooden beam.

There was little light in the room, but Ryder didn't need much to make out the table a few feet away that held an assortment of instruments. And the metal shelves even farther away sporting an odd group of jars, more tools and a gas-powered lantern.

He tried to get some leverage by moving his legs, but they were bound, as well. The pressure on his arms was almost unbearable as the weight of his body dragged on them.

Taking a deep breath, he strained against the bindings until a fine layer of sweat coated his body, increasing his discomfort as the chill settled deeper. He cursed out loud and gave one last angry yank, but nothing gave.

Suddenly metal grated against metal, a door opened with a groan and he heard a loud metallic clank as it closed again. Footsteps sounded against the cement floor until Ryder made out the shadow of a man by the metal shelves. A match flared to life and the hiss of the propane feeding the lantern grew in intensity as the man increased the amount of illumination.

“How are you, Latimer?” the man said as he walked closer and placed the lantern on the table holding the instruments.

The voice was familiar, as was the face, only today the young man sported auburn-colored hair. “You're the driver for the laundry company, aren't you?”

“So glad you could recall. You've seen me many a time, not that you ever bothered to learn my name,” he said with a trace of anger.

Ryder hoped to capitalize on that emotion, maybe make the man do something foolish that would allow an avenue for escape. “Why would I bother, a little nothing like you?”

The young man laughed, reached for something on the table and walked to stand before Ryder. He flipped the item in the air, and Ryder couldn't fail to see it was a long, sharp wooden stake.

“The name is Rudy.” The young man placed the point of the stake on Ryder's chest, right above his heart and continued with his little talk. “Tell me, Latimer. Is the lore true?”

“What lore?” Ryder asked, wondering just how much Rudy suspected.

“Oh, you know. The kind about no reflections in the mirror. Holy water. All those kinds of things.” Rudy ran the stake along Ryder's skin.

“Don't know what you're talking about.”

Rudy chuckled again and put the point of the stake directly above Ryder's heart. “Give it up, Latimer. I watched you and your lady friend in the alley. Heard it all. So, tell me, if I stake you right through the heart—”

“Will I explode into a cloud of dust? You've watched
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
one too many times.”

Rudy brought the stake down viciously, burying it deep into Ryder's side. Pain exploded through him and he strained against his bindings, but there was no escaping the agony. “I can make this difficult for you. So difficult you will wish you were dust. You will beg me to stop, like the women did.”

Ryder struggled to breathe, his torment intense. Somehow he rasped, “Does having me chained make you feel stronger? Why not let me go and see just how strong you really are? Or are you afraid, little man?”

Rudy yanked out the stake, and Ryder nearly passed out from the pain. He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth and waited for another attack, but it didn't come. Against his chilled skin, there was the warmth of blood as it trailed down from the wound in his side.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” Rudy asked as he held a scalpel up for Ryder's inspection. “It was my father's.”

“So this freakiness is genetic?”

Rudy let out a soft laugh. “You have guts, Latimer. For now, at least. We'll see how brave you are when I've got them in my hands.” He stepped up to Ryder once more and laid the scalpel against his midsection.

Ryder didn't flinch, certain it would give the other man satisfaction. He goaded him instead. “You can take whatever you want, Rudy, but I'd still be a man. Which is more than I can say for someone like you who needs knives to make him feel strong.”

“Aahh…My needs. They're actually quite simple compared to those of a creature like you,” he said, and applied the barest of pressure. The scalpel slipped easily through Ryder's skin, but Rudy didn't stop there. He drew it down, creating a precise line that bisected Ryder's midsection.

There was little pain, Ryder thought with surprise. The blade was too sharp and the cut shallow. As a surgeon, Ryder had made more than his share of incisions such as this one. He watched, almost in fascination, as Rudy stepped away to examine his handiwork and then reached for another surgical instrument.

“Do you like punishing them?” Ryder asked, hoping to find out what made the other man tick.

“Do you like biting them?” Rudy challenged. “Do they taste the same or is each one different?”

“I'm sure a connoisseur such as yourself would know better than me.” Ryder groaned as Rudy traced the earlier incision and pressed harder.

“Hurt much?”

Agony screamed through his brain, but Ryder kept his gaze locked with Rudy's until black circles danced before his eyes. When Rudy moved the knife one more inch, Ryder lost the battle for consciousness.

R
yder woke to a world of hurt. The muscles in his arms ached and felt as if they had been torn from their sockets. His midsection was ablaze and as he opened his eyes and focused, he noted the blood that had drained from him. It coated the front of his body and his side. Though the wounds were already starting to heal.

“So glad you're finally with me again, Latimer. I was worried we were going to run out of time.” Rudy slapped the stake against his hand. The wood was darker now, stained with Ryder's blood.

“We have all the time in the world, Rudy. I'm not going anywhere.”

“Unfortunately, we don't. The sun will be up soon.” He motioned with the stake to the banks of windows along one wall. A faint glimmer of light was already visible. “And tonight, I plan on taking your friend and letting you watch. If you survive the sunlight, that is.”

Ryder experienced his first real moment of fear, but not from the prospect of the sun reaching through those windows and touching him. “She's an FBI agent. You won't be able to grab her.” Ryder hoped to dissuade him from taking Diana. He was trying to protect her, something he was sure she wouldn't appreciate. Quite ironic, actually, given that he couldn't even help himself.

Rudy laughed and ran the point of the stake along Ryder's chest, delighting in the flinch Ryder couldn't control. “Afraid, Latimer?”

“They'll be waiting for you tonight. If you try taking her, you'll fail.”

Walking away, Rudy dropped the stake onto the small table. As he stood there, considering the various instruments, he spoke over his shoulder. “Oh, I never fail, Latimer. And then I will have some fun. Maybe you'll be lucky enough to see it.” He picked up a Liston knife and sauntered back to the beam.

Ryder refused to glance at the instrument. As a wartime physician, he had used a similar one many times during amputations. He knew just how sharp it was. How much damage Rudy could inflict with it, but he didn't acknowledge that. Doing so would play into Rudy's head games. “Did your victims beg when they saw the knife, Rudy? Do you like that, 'cause if you do, you'll be sadly disappointed in both me and Diana.”

Annoyance flared on Rudy's face before he drove the knife through Ryder and into the wood. “I'll make you beg, and your little friend, as well. Or maybe you'll beg for her. How do you think she'd like that?”

Ryder pulled against his bindings and sucked in deep lungfuls of air as he battled for control. Of course Rudy's earlier victims had begged, he thought, nearly biting his tongue in half to keep from begging himself. He fought back the plea, not wanting to give Rudy the satisfaction. “Why do you punish them?” he rasped between pain-filled breaths.

Rudy released a harsh chuckle and picked up one of the jars from the metal shelf. “You know what this is, don't you?”

Ryder forced himself to focus and concentrate on the item Rudy held—a jar with a trophy from one of his victims. “You're a sick animal,” Ryder said, not caring about what punishment would follow.

“Funny you should call me that. You feed and kill and yet call me an animal.”

Ryder heard the edge of annoyance in the other man's voice. “The animal in me wants them dead, but the human…the human understands how precious life is,” Ryder said in rebuke, his voice growing weaker as the effects of the injuries drained him of strength.

“Precious?” Rudy advanced on Ryder, another knife in his hand. Barely controlled insanity was visible in the young man's eyes. “I want them dead because they're whores, each and every one.”

“They hurt you?” he asked, and whatever small connection he had made with Rudy vanished.

“Do they have their own bouquet, their own essence, like a fine wine?” Rudy smacked his lips as he spoke and ran a finger across Ryder's chest. “I've never thought about it before—the life's blood you crave. So complex. I can understand your need, but can you understand mine?”

Ryder tried to lift his head, but he was too weak.

Rudy smiled. “Does her blood run in your veins, vampire?” he asked, and Ryder had no doubt he was referring to Diana. “Did you taste her?”

Ryder didn't have it in him to answer.

“I think so, Ryder. I think the beast emerged and savored her, but I think the human felt something for the little slut.”

Rudy grabbed Ryder's hair and forced his head back to meet his gaze. “Shame that you will lose her so soon.”

Ryder moaned and pulled at the tight ropes binding him to the beam. They held fast and his breathing increased, a fire igniting within him. He was too weak to battle the beast and the pain transformed him. His fangs emerged, and a low, angry growl erupted from him.

“Ah, that's better,” Rudy said with satisfaction. “But not for long.”

He laughed and motioned toward the dirty and broken windows along the upper wall of the building. “The morning sun gets quite strong in here. I guess when I return I'll know whether the lore is true.”

In his current state, Ryder doubted he could withstand any amount of sun for long. He was too weak from blood loss. He bowed his head and closed his eyes.

Rudy laughed loudly and a little wildly. “Such a shame, vampire. I'd hoped you and I could sample her tonight. See how sweet her spirit would taste.”

Until now, the human in Ryder had held back any show of emotion. It would only add to Rudy's sick pleasure. But as the man closed the door behind him, sealing Ryder in what he knew would be his tomb, and possibly Diana's, the animal in him howled out his grief, frustration and pain.

The sound echoed against the cinder blocks, a long, eerie wail that rattled the windows and slipped outside into the early morning air.

 

After hours of being on the job, Diana needed a few solid hours of sleep before heading back. She should have known she wouldn't get them, given how the night with Ryder had ended. As he had before, he came to her, the dream familiar, but as she let herself drift off to meet him, tension crept into her. Tension and fear.

Ryder stood before her, his hand outstretched, spurring her onward. She walked toward him, her shoes sounding loudly against dark cobblestones. The sky had a gray pall to it and the air was cold and damp. She looked past Ryder and noted the golden spire of a building that looked vaguely familiar.

As she took his hand, he brought her close and held her in his arms, only it wasn't a welcoming embrace. It was as if he was saying goodbye. She pulled away from him, confused and fearful. When she did so, she noted the blood seeping through his clothes and staining their hands.

“Ryder?” she asked, but he closed his eyes and moaned, dropping to his knees.

She knelt down to hold him, her heart pounding loudly as she struggled to stay calm. He opened his eyes. They were the bright, glowing eyes of the demon. His fangs emerged as he reached up and touched her face.

His hand was cold. Too cold. Dread filled her. “Ryder, don't go.” His hand dropped and his eyes closed. In her arms, his body was hard and unyielding. She knew then that he was gone.

She awoke with a start. It was close to seven o'clock. She'd barely gotten two hours of rest, if you could call her troubled slumber rest.

Shaken by the emotions that lingered from her dream, Diana knew it was useless to try to get more sleep so she showered and dressed. As she slipped on her suit jacket, the doorbell rang.

She entered the living room to see Melissa Danvers standing there.

“How did you get this address?”

“Ryder didn't come home last night. I was hoping you'd know where he was,” Melissa said.

Diana braced her arms across her chest. “Don't know and don't care.” Though the concern that lingered from her dream turned into outright fear.

“Hi, I'm Sebastian,” her brother, who had followed her to the door, interjected. He held his hand out to Melissa.

Melissa hesitated but took his offering and opted to capitalize on it. “Melissa. Maybe you can help me.”

“Sebastian doesn't know a thing about your friend, and I'm sorry I ever did.” Diana quickly stepped between the two.

“I need your help to find him, Diana. He can't be out now. You know that.”

“What I know is that Ryder jumped to the number-one spot on my suspect list,” Diana said.

Melissa shook her head. “You don't mean that. You're just angry at him because he—”

“Deceived me? Betrayed my trust?”

Melissa had the grace to blush, but she still forged ahead in Ryder's defense. “You know he couldn't have killed those women. And you know you can't let your anger jeopardize Ryder's life.”

Diana hated that she was right. Despite Ryder's show of the night before, she knew in her heart that he wasn't capable of murder. And his disappearance was probably due to the misunderstanding they'd had last night. If she had a choice, she'd be avoiding the world, as well. “Ryder's a big boy. I'm sure he found somewhere to sleep away the daylight hours.”

Sebastian let out a strangled chuckle. “I definitely have stepped into something bizarre. You two are sounding way too weird.”

Diana opened the front door. “I think you've overstayed your welcome, Dr. Danvers.”

Melissa held her ground. “If he's hurt and can't make it somewhere safe…”

“He'll have a major case of sunburn? Turn into a big pile of dust? Is that what happens?” Her residual anger at Ryder's betrayal drove her to lash out at his friend. Inside, however, she hoped he wasn't in danger.

“He'll die, and I don't think you want that.” Melissa laid a hand on Diana's arm. “He can't help being what he is. Please help me find him.”

“And just
what
is your friend?” Sebastian asked.

Diana glared at him and held the door open wider. “It's time you got to work, isn't it, Sebastian?”

“Ryder's a vampire,” Melissa answered calmly.

Sebastian laughed. “She's a kook, right, Di? One of your strange FBI friends?”

“Sebastian, just go. This doesn't involve you.”

“How come you're not answering me, Di? What's going on here?” He headed back into the living room and sat on the sofa, clearly not intending to budge until he had some answers.

Diana looked at Melissa and pointedly inclined her head in the direction of the door. The young woman regally lifted her chin, turned and entered the living room. A moment later, she was seated on the couch by Sebastian's side. “Help me find Ryder.”

Diana slammed the door shut and approached the duo, her hands on her hips in an obvious sign of annoyance. “If you're worried that I hurt your friend once he showed me what he was, you're wrong. I wanted to, but he was in one piece when I left him.”

“Now tell me something of value.”

Sebastian chuckled and muttered beneath his breath, “Ballsy. I like that in a girl.”

“Sebastian,” Diana warned at the same time that Melissa said, “I'm not a girl. I'm a woman.”

Despite her pique, Diana had to admit she admired Melissa's dedication and her ballsyness, as her brother had put it. And deep inside, in the part of her that still cared for Ryder, there was concern for Ryder's safety.

“Did anyone see Ryder leave the club?” she asked finally.

“I called at six when I got worried because the sun was up and Ryder wasn't home—”

“You're not doing drugs, are you, Diana, because this whole vampire thing—”

“Sebastian, it would be best if you went to work,” Diana held her hand out in a pointed invitation for him to leave them alone.

“I was worried this whole club thing might drag you—”

“Into nothing I can't handle,
hermanito.
Now, go.” But Sebastian didn't budge.

Melissa laid a hand on his thigh and said softly, “Your sister isn't into anything harmful.”

Diana let out a harsh laugh. “If you consider a vampire bite not harmful.”

Sebastian jumped up, hands in the air to silence both women. “Okay, enough of the comedy routine. This Ryder guy can't be a vampire.” He motioned to Melissa. “And you,” he continued, pointing a finger at Diana, “did not get bit by a vampire. Vampires do not exist.”

“Ryder is a vampire.”

“He's been one since the Civil War when he got turned,” Melissa added.

“And you're human, I hope?” Sebastian questioned.

“Definitely a mortal,” Melissa confirmed, then inclined her head in Diana's direction. “And you…You're the first person that Ryder has loved—”

“He doesn't love me. He couldn't love me and bite me.” She almost reached up and rubbed her neck, then pulled her hand away as she realized what she'd done. Shaking her head, she said, “I don't want to be the one he loves.”

“And why is that?” Melissa asked.