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Page 36
"Brandon!" Daisy dropped down beside her brother. "Dad! Help!" Sobbing, she cradled Brandon's head in her lap. "No, no, Brandon, stay with me," she pleaded as his blood, still warm, soaked into her jeans. "Please, stay with me. You'll be all right. Just hold on..."
She looked up through eyes blurred with tears as Alex and her father, both splattered with blood and gore, raced toward her.
Noah fell to his knees beside his son. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he drew Brandon into his arms and rocked him back and forth.
Daisy stared at her father and brother in disbelief. No one in their family had ever been killed by a vampire. They'd had some close calls, sure, but nothing like this. Even now, with the proof in front of her, she couldn't believe Brandon was gone.
It was a somber group that gathered around the kitchen table later that evening. Alex had fixed a dinner that no one ate, and now they sat there, too numb with loss and grief to speak. They had done what needed to be done before leaving the lair near the harbor.
Noah had wrapped his son's body in a quilt pulled from a closet and carried him out to the car.
Alex had decapitated the vampires to make sure they wouldn't rise again, then collected the necessary proof that the kills had been made.
Daisy had stowed the vials of blood in the cooler. She had been tempted to leave them behind, but she couldn't. The liquid in those vials had cost her brother his life.
Daisy and Alex had been about to leave the house when Alex paused. "Do you smell that?"
Daisy had sniffed the air. "It smells like death."
Alex grunted softly.
Daisy followed Alex down a narrow flight of stairs to the basement where they made a grisly discovery--the bodies of a middle-aged man and woman shoved inside an old coal chute.
"They've been dead a while," Alex said. "We need to notify the police."
Daisy had turned away, sickened by the sight and the smell of the house's former owners.
Alex called the police. The rest of the afternoon had passed in a blur of police reports and endless questions. There was no law against destroying vampires. Once the police had ascertained that the deceased were indeed vampires, Daisy and her family had been free to go. They had taken Brandon's body to the local mortuary and made the necessary arrangements for the funeral, and then driven home.
"Your mother and Aunt Judy will be home day after tomorrow," Noah said, breaking the stillness.
"How's Mom taking it?" Alex asked.
"Hard."
"Someone needs to call Paula," Daisy remarked.
"I'll do it." Alex blew out a sigh. "I guess now's as good a time as any." Rising, he left the kitchen.
Daisy stared blankly out the window. Instead of a wedding, there would be a funeral. She still couldn't believe her brother was dead. Brandon had been such a gentle, fun-loving young man. Once, he had confided in her that he didn't like being a Blood Thief. When she had asked why he didn't quit, he had admitted, somewhat sheepishly, that he knew Alex would tease him unmercifully. Daisy blinked back her tears. If only he had quit before it was too late. Funny, she had never really believed anyone in her family would be hurt. They were the good guys, after all.
She looked up, startled, when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it, Dad," she said, thinking it was probably the police with more questions. Her father had been through enough for one day.
It wasn't the police. Opening the door, she found herself staring up at Erik. The word vampire screamed in the back of her mind. In that moment, if she'd had a stake at hand, she would have destroyed him without a qualm.
"What's wrong?" There was no mistaking the hatred in her eyes, though he could think of nothing he had done to put it there.
"My brother...Brandon...he's...he's dead."
"I'm sorry. How did it happen?"
She clasped her hands together to still their trembling. "He was...." She took a deep breath and said it all at once. "He was killed this afternoon. By a vampire."
"Ah." That explained everything. "Do you know who did it?"
"Yes. She'll never hurt anyone again."
"I can see I'm not welcome here," Erik said quietly. "I'm sorry for your loss."
Rage and impotent anger boiled within her. She wanted to strike out, to hurt as she had been hurt. Conversely, she had an almost overwhelming urge to invite him in, to rest her head on his shoulder and let him comfort her, but she couldn't. He was Nosferatu. For all she knew, he might have been friends with the vampire who had killed Brandon.
Distraught, she could only stand there, drowning in grief that was too painful, too fresh, for words.
"Good-bye, Daisy."
He was gone before she had time to respond.
Chapter 27
After leaving Daisy's house, Erik told himself that their parting was for the best and would have come sooner or later. Still, even knowing there could be no future for the two of them, he had hoped they could find a way to make it work. Of course, that was impossible now. A vampire had killed her brother, something Daisy would never forget or forgive. Still, he had promised not to leave her until she was safe.
He stood in the shadows for a moment, and then, feeling a need to be with his own kind, at least for an hour or so, he closed his eyes and willed himself to his lair in Los Angeles. He took a quick shower, then slipped into a pair of black slacks and a T-shirt. Since he had left his car parked in front of Daisy's house, he spent a moment deciding how to get to La Morte Rouge.
Not sure what his welcome would be, he opted to walk.
It was a beautiful clear night.
He found Rhys sitting at the bar in the nightclub, a willowy blond on one arm and a buxom redhead on the other.
"Well, well, well," Costain drawled, shooing the two females away, "look who finally showed up. Where in hell have you been?"
Erik took the seat at Costain's right. "I decided to get out of town for a while. You got a problem with that?" He knew he had made a mistake as soon as the words were spoken. He was supposed to be keeping an eye on the West Coast. Hadn't he insisted on staying here? Of course, his only motive at the time had been to be near Daisy. He hadn't given a thought to Costain, or to trying to find out who had offered a reward for his head.
"I've got a problem, all right," Rhys said. "A mighty damn big one. It might have slipped your mind, but someone's out to get me, and they're not fooling around."
"Have you been attacked again?"
"No, but the word's spreading. LA is crawling with hunters." Rhys glanced around the club. "Next thing you know, they'll be coming in here."
"I doubt that," Erik said dryly. La Morte Rouge had more security than Fort Knox and the White House put together.
"So, where were you?" Costain asked. His voice was deceptively mild, at odds with the predatory gleam in his eyes.
Erik made a vague gesture with his hand. "I went East for a few days."
"East?"
Erik hesitated. How much did Costain know? Had Villagrande called him? "Boston."
"Four vampires were killed there this afternoon," Rhys remarked, his voice still mild. "Did you have anything to do with that?"
"Why would I?"
"You tell me."
"I don't know anything about it."
"What do you know about the two hunters who tried to destroy Villagrande?"
Erik swore softly. Damn. He had been counting on Villagrande to keep his mouth shut. How much had he told Costain?
"I'm waiting," Rhys said, and now his voice was like ice.
"I know one of the hunters. He's the friend of a friend." No way would be mention Daisy, her brother or her father by name. "I knew he was in trouble and I asked Villagrande to spare his life, and he did. There's no more to it than that."
"Is that so?"
Erik nodded, every muscle tense. Those who underestimated Rhys Costain rarely lived long enough to regret it.
"And where is he now, this hunter?"
Erik shrugged. He couldn't reveal Alex's whereabouts without disclosing Daisy's, too.
"Mariah thinks you're the one who betrayed me," Rhys said thoughtfully. "Villagrande thinks I sent you East with an eye to challenging him for his territory. Perhaps you went East to challenge Villagrande yourself, or perhaps the two of you are conspiring against me. Is it mere coincidence that your name keeps coming up?"
"I've got no reason to want you dead," Erik replied. "I don't have two hundred grand to pay for your head. I don't want to take over your territory, or Villagrande's, for that matter. Perhaps you should look closer to home."
Costain's eyes narrowed. "Do you know something I should know?"
Erik shook his head. Why hadn't he stayed in Boston?
"You're keeping something from me," Rhys said, his voice sharp. "What is it?"
"Nothing you need to know."
"We've been friends a long time. I'd hate to see anything change that."
Erik took a deep breath. "Do you want me to leave the city and find a new lair?"
Rhys leaned forward, his eyes glowing red. "I want the truth."
"I've given it to you."
Rhys shook his head. "I don't think so."
Before Erik realized what Rhys had in mind, two mortals, obviously under some kind of thrall, came up behind Erik. One dropped a thick silver chain around his neck and jerked it tight while the second dropped a chain around Erik's chest, pinning his arms to his sides.
Erik hissed as the silver burned through his clothing and singed the skin beneath. Rendered powerless, he glared at Costain. "You're making a big mistake."
"We'll see. Take him downstairs."
"Dammit, Rhys..."
"Enough! Get him out of here!"
Erik cursed as the two mortals dragged him down a flight of stairs to Costain's personal dungeon. In years past, Rhys had kept mortals here that he intended to prey on at a later date.