Читать книгу Midnight Lover - Rosemary Laurey - Страница 8

The trail was unmistakable. It led, as expected, to the neighbor’s land. Toby even found the exact position where the unfortunate dog had been savaged. The scent was stronger here and mingled with the dog’s dying terror. He understood the owner’s anger at finding his dog mauled to death, but blaming Adela was a bit over the top. And as for sending the Neanderthal deputy over to haul her down for “questioning”—Abel give him patience! Narrow-minded small towns still dotted the map just as they had in his mortal days.

He was not lingering here. The last thing he needed was for said neighbor to accuse him of trespassing. Taking the still-strong scent as his guide, Toby followed it for a couple of miles through the growing dark to the riverbank and what appeared to be the creature’s lair among a heap of rocks. The opening was small. Toby sensed a heartbeat—at least of sorts—within. Unwilling to transmogrify small and face the chupacabra in its own territory, Toby decided to wait. Sooner or later the creature would emerge. It would be interesting to encounter another living myth, and Toby had no doubt of his ability to influence it to leave the neighborhood. Once it was gone, Adela could return and hopefully the town would soon settle down.

He picked a convenient perch in a nearby tree and waited, while the summer night fell around him.

It was almost full dark when he caught the first movement among the rocks. A mortal might well have missed it but not even a mortal could ignore the rank odor. If the locals believed witches dealt in fire and brimstone, small wonder they blamed Adela for this creature.

Vampire senses alert, Toby waited, watching two glittering eyes that peered from the dark recess. In a swift movement that took him by surprise, the creature emerged. Not much surprised Toby after a century and a half, but the chupacabra had him staring.

Abel preserve him! The creature was something out of a nightmare. The face was a prototype for a gargoyle and the body appeared to have been constructed out of spare parts.

It stood up on its hind legs, its short forepaws had massive claws that obviously made up for the lack of arm length, and it was covered all over with wrinkled gray skin that looked scaly and tough. It turned its head from side to side, senses and eyes alert, as it sniffed the air and curled up its upper lip, baring teeth that even impressed a vampire.

No wonder it had ripped that dog’s throat out! Any animal smaller than a rhinoceros would come off second-best in a tangle with a chupacabra.

And he, Toby Wise, was going to have to deal with it. A polite request to vacate the vicinity was unlikely to be effective.

Damn and double damn.

Oh, well. No point in dillydallying. As the chupacabra turned and set off across the field, no doubt in search of more livestock or domestic animals to savage, Toby dropped from the tree, landing just a couple of meters in front of it.

The creature paused in its tracks for about three seconds. As Toby decided the thing stank even worse at close quarters, the chupacabra lunged, vicious teeth bared, obviously aiming for his throat. Toby thanked Abel for vampire reflexes as he leapt over the creature and landed behind it.

It spun around, almost as fast as Toby, but he had it puzzled. After all, dogs and sheep lacked a vampire’s jumping ability and speed. The delay was only momentary. The chupacabra snarled again and, as Toby moved in to grab it by the throat, raked his arms with its claws.

The wounds stung, but not enough to slow a vampire. Toby tightened his grip and, ignoring the hissing and the slashing claws, lifted it off its feet.

It promptly ripped his trousers and opened a gash in Toby’s thigh, proving its hind claws were every bit as sharp, and somehow, despite Toby’s grasp, it swiveled its neck and bit his wrist.

Damn! Toby tightened his hold, the creature’s choking gasps echoing in the night. Toby hated killing, despised needless bloodshed, but this creature could not be permitted to plague the neighborhood.

Maintaining his grasp, he swung the animal around and slammed it on the ground, bringing his knee down on its chest and pressing his arm across its throat.

It was several long minutes before the chupacabra took its last breath.

Once sure it was dead, Toby released his grasp and stood up. It was now pitch dark, not that that was any impediment to a vampire. He looked at the limp creature sprawled in the dirt and wondered from which pit of hell it had emerged. He really should be acclaimed as the savior of Dark Falls, but he’d settle for making life easier for Adela.

He looked around, wondering where to put the creature so its corpse would be conveniently found by the local populace, when he heard distant engines.

Tucking the chupacabra among a clump of bushes, where it was unlikely to be found until he was ready, Toby headed toward the road.

A convoy of assorted cars, jeeps and pickup trucks passed by where Toby hid among the trees. Why? There was nothing up here except Adela’s house. They’d already passed the drive to the neighbor who’d dumped the damn dog in her back garden.

They had to be heading for Adela’s house. Maybe the deputy did have a good reason for getting her away, which meant he knew, or darn well had an good inkling, what was going on. In fact, damned if he wasn’t bringing up the rear.

Fine! Adela was far from harm now and Toby felt like putting a spanner in the works of whatever nastiness the local yokels had in mind.

Stopping only to strip off his pale blue shirt, as it was rather a flag in the dark—perhaps he should start conforming and wear black like any respectable vampire—he tossed the remnants of pale silk into the woods and followed the vanguard.

He should have stripped off his trousers as well. They were navy and good camouflage, not that he needed it in the night—black skin gave its own cover—but the darn chupacabra had ripped his left trouser leg from midthigh to below the knee, and the fabric flapped as he ran. But he wasn’t about to stop again; he darn well wasn’t letting the marauding locals out of his sight.

He’d been right. They stopped in a cluster in front of Adela’s house, headlights shining as they gathered in a knot just beyond the front lawn. There were twelve, perhaps fifteen of them. No, another group of half a dozen piled out of an SUV. There had to be twenty.

What sort of cowards had to mass in such numbers against a lone woman? He had to chuckle. They had no idea whom she had on her side. Twenty to one was about even between mortals and vamps. He stayed in the shadows of the trees; no need to reveal himself when he could hear quite well at a distance.

Seemed there was a bit of disagreement over exactly how to proceed. Good, let the mortals dither and delay. Toby looked around; the ground sloped a little and some of the cars were parked rather carelessly. How considerate of the owners to leave them unlocked. Saved him the bother of breaking in.

He slipped close to the most convenient, opened the door and took the car out of Park. After closing the door carefully, Toby nudged the bumper with his foot.

The resulting crash diverted attention from the main project. Several men gathered around offering advice on how to shift the car off the tree, and ribbing “Ted” on having left the car in Neutral. Ted expressed his disgust at the slander. A couple of them took his part and it looked as if a nice fracas was brewing, until a more focused, and less easily distracted, member of the company reminded them they’d come to “smoke out the damn witch,” not fuss over a few dents and scratches.

It was going to be tricky to adhere to colony ethics and desist from harming mortals. Toby could argue these specimens were subhuman, but that point was specious at best. Better toe the line, but the code said nothing about hindering and inconveniencing mortals.

While they had a little fun breaking windows and yelling epithets certain to mortify their mothers, Toby grabbed fistfuls of dirt and grass and blocked up a few exhaust pipes. Crude but likely to irritate. He was pondering the wisdom of smashing a few windshields when a voice rose above the others, suggesting they’d done enough.

It was drowned out by a mob baying for blood. Long-suppressed memories burned in Toby’s mind. Horror clamped his gut, but damn! He was vampire! Nothing they did could harm him now. Seemed Adela’s apparent absence enraged them. Dear Abel, had they really planned to harm her?

Definitely! Fuel cans were produced, and as Toby crept closer—not much caring at this point if he was seen—a select few doused the front and back porches and the shrubs and door with petrol.

Bastards!

Anger roiled in his mind. Thank Abel Adela had called him. What sort of mortal did this to another? Right, if he knew the answer to that he’d hold the key to world peace. Meanwhile, a gray-haired man who looked like every child’s dream grandpa, tossed a lighted match toward the front steps.

The vapor ignited with a loud rush, followed a moment of quiet before the first flames roared, burning through the azaleas and catching the wooden trellis beside the front door. Minutes later, the front door went up in flames and the crowd cheered.

And through it all, the deputy stood apart, watching.

That did it!

While the monsters watched and cheered—Toby half-expected to see them dance around the flames—he ran back to the rocks and pulled out the limp body of the chupacabra.

He was back in minutes, settling the noxious carcass in the driver’s seat of the deputy’s cruiser. The vehicle would never be the same.

With the mob engrossed in destruction, Toby only needed ten minutes to jam up the remaining exhausts and shove his fist through each windshield.

They wouldn’t forget this night in a hurry.

Time to go home.

There was nothing left for him to do. As he paused against a large pickup, tiredness washed over him. He’d better fly rather than try to transmogrify. Would take longer but used less energy.

Ripping off his ruined trousers, he tossed them into the flames. His boxers, shoes and socks he draped over the sheriff’s radio aerial just for the hell of it. Toby ran to the open field adjoining Adela’s now-burning house. The flames were licking at the windows now; it was only a matter of time before the entire house was engulfed. As he watched, there was an explosion accompanied by yells and screams as her vandalized car blew up.

Definitely the moment to vacate the vicinity.

Summoning his remaining strength, Toby tensed and ran and leaped into the air, propelling himself through the night toward Devil’s Elbow.

He hoped Adela had remembered to leave the window open.

Maybe fortune did favor the sneaky and the underhanded. The unexpected guest was asleep (Laura peered round the door to be sure), and Mr. Connor was dozing peacefully. With Mr. Wise not returning until morning, she had several good hours to poke and pry and hopefully find something to satisfy her father. Once she did, she was quitting. She could not look these people in the face knowing she’d spied on them. She wouldn’t have even considered it, but Dad had been close to tears when he begged her. It beat her how he let his new partner pressure him so.

The paper was Dad’s bailiwick; she was the one prying on nice people and a fair employer.

She booted up the computer and after a good hour found nothing. E-mail was password protected—nothing unusual in that. Hers was too. Quicken showed nothing more than personal bank accounts. She certainly envied his bank balances, but having a very nice savings account was hardly illegal. There were a couple of locked files, but if they held the dubious secrets Dad was after, she couldn’t access them. The files she could open held ordinary-seeming business correspondence and a bunch of IRS tax publications.

Drawing a blank there, she looked at the bookmarks in his Web browser. He seemed to be interested in South Carolina history, but that was hardly the basis for an exposé. She shut the computer down, checking that the keyboard and mouse were left exactly as she’d found them, and went for the desk drawers.

They were virtually empty, probably cleaned out after Mr. Connor’s stroke, and there hadn’t been time to accumulate the usual clutter. Mr. Wise appeared to have a liking for purple felt-tip pens and often ripped out articles from Business Week, but that was that.

Maybe the filing cabinet would have what she needed.

The bottom two drawers were locked. Interesting, but the keys weren’t in the desk drawers, and picking locks wasn’t part of her training. She had the top one open and was flicking through the files when a sound like a wild gust of wind made her turn around.

Her employer stood in the middle of the carpet, frowning. At her. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked. Her mouth dropped open as he came toward her. “I repeat, Nurse Fox, what exactly do you think you are doing?”

“I…” Inventing a plausible lie was beyond her capabilities right now. Hard to think when caught in the wrong by an irate employer. A naked, irate employer. He was tall, very black and even better looking than a couple of her stray fantasies had suggested.

He was also bleeding. “You’re hurt.”

“Utterly irrelevant, Nurse Fox. Please answer my question.” He crossed the carpet and put his hand on her shoulder. Nakedness didn’t seem to faze him. She’d be equally cool. After all, she was a nurse. She’d seen plenty of naked men in her job, but not standing upright, inches from her and meeting her eyes in a way that demanded the truth. “What are you looking for?”

Toby watched as the instinct to lie crumbled before his compulsion to tell the truth. “Proof of illegal activity.”

Toby hissed. Damn FBI! Planting agents in Piet’s house! They didn’t miss a trick. “Who sent you?” If it was either of the agents this morning…

“Dad, he sent me.”

Rather unsubtle! Mortals! He needed to know if “Dad” was an FBI code name but damn, he was worn out and the effort to bend her will this much had him close to dropping. “Indeed. Go back to your patient, Nurse Fox. You’ll tell me everything in the morning.” He watched as she blinked, her green eyes still confused, and then walked across the room to the door without looking back.

It wasn’t until ten minutes later, as he stood under the shower, Toby realized he’d not removed her memory. Later. He’d do it in the morning. Wasn’t much of a worry after all. If she called her field supervisor and reported her quarry had appeared as if by magic in the middle of the room without a stitch of clothing, they’d think she’d been taking funny pills.

Not that Toby was in the habit of wandering around naked in front of employees. Or anyone, come to that. But he was shocked. He liked Nurse Fox. Really liked her. Too darn much for his own good and…damn! He’d tasted from an FBI agent. Darn good thing on those occasions he’d held her under glamour. What would the feds do with the knowledge they were investigating a vampire? He’d end up in some nasty experimental bunker somewhere.

He had to be much more careful.

And he was still bleeding. Whatever that chupacabra had in its saliva and claws slowed healing. Thank Abel for the emergency supply of blood in the hidden refrigerator in the bedroom. It took four bags, but finally the scratches healed. Toby hid the empty bags to dispose of later, and went to bed. A couple of hours’ rest and he’d be right as rain, and ready to get the full story from the devious and delectable Laura Fox.