Kissed by Moonlight (20 page)

"So, nothing more on the book itself, huh?"

"Unfortunately not. My guess," Eddie said, putting aside the paperback, "is the book is much more than a simple diary."

"No shit."

He ignored my language. "Since Darroch and Jones want it so badly, it must contain something they want."

I refrained from pointing out he was stating the obvious. "Right. And what they want is the power of the amulet. But it's too late. It's already chosen me." Not that I was entirely happy about it, but at least it was staying out of Alister's clutches. If only I could figure out his end game. I mean, besides the power grab.

"Is it? Too late, I mean." Eddie took off his glasses, polished them with a hot pink handkerchief, and shoved them back on his face. "The amulet chose you, certainly. But if that were the end of it, why would Alister be trying so very hard to get his hands on it?"

Eddie made a good point, and a very uncomfortable one. "You think there is a way he can still get his hands on the power?"

"Yes. Yes, I do. And I also believe this book he's taken is the key to doing just that."

"Freaking fantastic."

***

"How does this help us?" Jack snapped after I'd signed off with Eddie. "We already know whatever is in the book is important. What we need to know is where it is and how to get it back."

"We know where it is," I snarled back, at my wit's end with his bad attitude. "Alister has it."

"We don't know that. We're guessing. And we'd already guessed it before we talked to Eddie. We're no closer to understanding it than we were before. We still don't know
where
Alister is, and we still don't know what the book says. Only the rambling suppositions of some crazy old man."

If I hadn't already been in full blown pissed-off mode, that snark against Eddie would have done it. Without another word, I grabbed my jacket and stormed out of the hotel room, leaving Jack behind yelling about immaturity or some bullshit. Frankly, I didn't give a damn. Eddie had done his best. Maybe we didn't know anything more than what we'd already guessed, other than where Alister had probably gotten his information on the book. But Eddie's speculations confirmed my own, and it was the best we could do for now.

I took the stairs, needing the exercise. Also, because I had no intention of getting on the tiny little excuse for an elevator in our Parisian hotel. I'd rather not deal with a full blown panic attack from claustrophobia.

The lobby was overcrowded with people checking in and out, and hotel employees running to and fro. Piles of luggage created an obstacle course to the front door. Swinging on my jacket, I strode toward the glass doors, ignoring the glares from tourists who clearly thought my single-minded bid for freedom was rude in the extreme. Frankly, I thought it was rude they weren't watching where they were going.

The fresh air hit me, and I filled my lungs, dragging in the scents of Paris in the springtime. Actually, it didn't smell that much different from Portland unless one counted the
boulangerie
a few doors down. Whatever they were baking smelled like nirvana.

Ignoring the siren's song of baked goods, I crossed the street and headed roughly in the direction of the River Seine. It was getting on toward sunset and the weather was decent; the wide walkways on either side of the river thick with Parisians and tourists all taking in the evening air.

I leaned against the railing of the Pont Saint-Louis, staring down at the river as it flowed beneath me, trying to calm my mind. For the first time since we'd arrived in France, I allowed the focus on our mission to drop away and truly enjoyed the moment. I didn't know what it was about this place, but every time I visited Paris, at some point in the trip, I found my way to this exact spot. And every time I did, something about it would suck me into the poetry and beauty of the City of Lights. Everything else would melt away and I would just... be.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, curling my fingers around the cold metal railing. A cool breeze toyed with my hair. The murmur of something said in French caressed my ears. More than two thousand years of history, of life, of love sank into my bones.

Opening my eyes, I turned around so I could take in the gothic beauty of Notre Dame Cathedral. Softened by blooming trees and the blaze of the setting sun, the ancient church was like something out of a fairy tale.

I let my gaze roam over the passing humanity: a loving couple holding hands and whispering romantic things while stealing kisses; a family of four bickering about where to eat; a trio of Japanese girls giggling to each other while snapping photos of everything in sight. Let me rephrase: every cute boy in sight. An elderly man passed, sucking on a pipe walking his tiny dog.

I rubbed my temple as a sudden tightness clenched at my skull. And then I saw him on the other side of the Quai aux Fleurs. Just a shadow among other shadows, but his eyes glowed an eerie red as he stared directly at me. My fingers tightened on the railing behind me as my entire body froze. A soul-imbued vampire, here in Paris.

Our eyes locked, and he knew I'd seen him. Between one heartbeat and the next, he took off running, straight up the Quai du Marché-Neuf toward the Notre Dame Cathedral with me hot on his heels.

Chapter 29

The vampire moved with incredible speed. His feet flew over the paving stones in a dizzying blur, shoving gawking tourists out of his way. If his eyes hadn't already given away his nature, his attempt at escape would have. It wasn't the first time I'd seen a red-eyed vampire outside the city of Portland, and I wasn't about to let the bastard get away.

A woman screamed, tumbling to the ground as the vampire pushed her down before vanishing into the crowd. I would have stopped, but fortunately there were plenty of helping hands, and the woman appeared more rattled than hurt. Instead I shouted, "Which way?"

An older gentleman with a huge camera around his neck waved his hand. "That way. Get the bastard," he yelled in a thick Texas accent.

With a nod, I sped up, searching for my prey. Eventually, I caught sight of him again. I dashed after his retreating form, dodging through the gaps he'd made in the wall of humanity. Hopefully, most people would assume they'd seen two Olympic sprinters out on a practice run. The last thing anyone needed were rumors of vampires loose on the streets of Paris. Not that the locals would be too much in an uproar. In typical Parisian fashion, they'd just shrug and roll with it. It was the tourists who would be a problem.

The vamp sprinted across the street, and I darted after him. Unfortunately, the gap between us was widening. For all my hunter speed and strength, I was no match for him. Maybe he really had been an Olympic sprinter.

Reaching within, I grabbed hold of the Darkness that lived inside me. With barely a pause, it surged up and out. My vision tunneled down to a pinprick as the Darkness pulled strength from the heavy shadows surrounding the Cathedral. It pushed speed into my legs, breath into my lungs. A laugh spilled from my throat and all I could think was
free at last.
The world around me blurred as I picked up speed, my boots striking a staccato rhythm against the paving stones.

The vampire crossed the wide open square in front of the Cathedral. During the day, the area was packed with tourists, but now there were only a few stragglers huddled around the edges. They stared at the two of us as though they'd never seen a high-speed foot chase before. The vampire headed for one of the enormous front doors looming up behind the temporary chain link fence. Surely he knew the Cathedral would be closed at this time of evening?

Either he didn't know or didn't care. He rushed right up to the door, grabbed the handle, and gave it a jerk. It didn't move. He let out a string of cuss words that had even me flinching. Even though I didn't exactly believe in the Christian God, I sort of half-expected the vamp to get struck by lightening for cussing in front of a church.

The vampire glanced back at me, eyes widening as he realized how close I was. My lips curled into one of those scary smiles the Darkness enjoyed showing people it was hunting. Yep, at this point, the Darkness was pretty much in charge. I didn't bother fighting it. I had more important things to focus on.

For a moment, the vampire hesitated. Then, whirling to the right, he scurried around the corner of the hulking stone building and disappeared.

I snarled. Or rather, the Darkness snarled. "Oh, no, you don't."

I dashed around the building in time to see the vamp kick in a smaller side door. There was a sharp
crack,
accompanied by a spray of splinters, and then the vampire slipped inside.

A vampire hiding in a church. Talk about ironic.

I slowed down, much to the dismay of the Darkness, cautiously peering into the dimly lit interior. No telling where the vamp was or what he was planning, but the last thing I needed was him ripping my throat out because I wasn't paying attention.

The Darkness snarled again, impatient. Caution was definitely not in its nature.

"Shut up," I mumbled under my breath. Oh, gods I was talking to myself.

Stepping over the shattered remains of the door, I kept my ears peeled for any sound from within. There was nothing; just the stillness of a building that had expelled its visitors and now sat empty with a sigh of relief. Surely there must still be a few nuns or priests or whatever hanging around, cleaning up, counting the sales of religious trinkets from the booths near the entrance. The doors hadn't closed that long ago.

I listened again. If there was anyone left inside, they were far away from this part of the Cathedral.

I slipped through the narrow hallway, the heavy musk of age and mildew assaulting my nose. I reached out to touch the wall, ground myself in the deep shadows. My fingers slid across cool stone and smooth wood as I made my way into the sanctuary.

Faint light trickled through the stained glass windows, so little as to be nearly useless. The exit signs gave off a faint greenish glow. Again, useless to the normal human eye, but my eyesight quickly adjusted. Between my hunter abilities and the Darkness channeling its way through me, I could see just as clearly as if someone had turned on floodlights.

I turned my head, trying to spot my prey. Narrow wooden pews, dark with age, lined the middle of the enormous open area facing the altar. That was where the priests would say mass or whatever. I'd seen one once, years ago when I'd been just a tourist. I had actually kind of liked the chanting. It had had a soothing quality.

Around the outside of the seating area was a wide avenue lined with velvet rope. It was there that the tourists could wander along, gawking at the goings on in the center of the room and at the carved stone statues of saints lining the walls. My favorite statue was the one of Joan of Arc, and I couldn't help pausing for a second to glance her way.

In the dim light, the white marble shimmered like a ghost. She seemed almost alive, as if she were watching me from her little alcove. Maybe it would have been spooky to someone else, but to me it felt like a benediction. If I had believed in such things.

Behind me, I heard a noise. The scuff of rubber against stone, perhaps. So faint, it almost didn't register.

Instinct and training kicked in, and I dove for the floor just as something whistled through the air where my head had been. I had seconds before my attacker regained his stance. I rolled to the left and under the velvet rope as the weapon clanged against the stone floor with enough force to make me wince. It missed by a hair.

From what I could make out, it was some kind of battle axe, heavy and ancient. Where had he gotten such a thing inside a church? And for that matter, what was with people attacking me with axes lately?

Just like in the Other World with the boar-man, I was on the defensive. I didn't like it. Neither did the Darkness.

I scrambled to the nearest pew, and squeezed under the seat into the next aisle. The axe blade bit into the back of the pew, splintering it in two as I jumped to my feet and ran like hell for the wide open space at the front. A chunk of wood hit me in the cheek, slicing through skin. Hot blood slid over my skin, dripping onto my leather jacket. Wonderful. It would match all the other blood stains.

The scent of my blood enraged the vampire even more. He stormed after me, screaming "Die, bitch!" as he slashed and hacked at empty air, half out of his mind. If he'd been an animal, I'd have said he was rabid.

I nearly stumbled on the stairs up to the altar, mind racing. I had little in the way of conventional weapons at my disposal. A couple knives, and that was it. My main blades and UV gun were back at the hotel. I hadn't exactly been planning on a hunt. Besides, even though I'd been able to bring a weapons stash with me, the French authorities technically didn't allow foreign hunters to carry arms within their borders. We were supposed to call a local hunter to take care of any "unpleasantness" we stumbled into. Sort of hard to do that with a vampire swinging an axe at your head.

I did, however, have one hell of an unconventional arsenal at my disposal.

I hesitated. Every time I let my powers out, it felt like I was walking a fine line between sanity and madness. Only the Darkness seemed marginally controllable these days. Still, I had no choice unless I wanted to become vamp food.

I turned and faced the monster.

Chapter 30

I stood, feet braced, awaiting my attacker. Within my mind, I dove down into the place where my powers lived. The Fire was first, zipping out like it had hit an oil slick, spreading down my arms and across my hands. I could feel it was even in my eyes, a spot of brightness in the middle of a black tunnel of Darkness. The vampire faltered, red eyes panicked.

"Who's the bitch now?" I whispered. Except it wasn't me speaking. The Darkness used my voice.

I wasn't sure the vamp heard me. By that time, the Air was spiraling out of the center of my chest, white smoky mists whipping around like a coiling cobra. My short hair danced wildly on increasingly violent winds. The altar cloth flapped madly, and a vase tipped over, spilling water and day lilies across the apse.