Part 44 (1/2)

”Let her meet Sean,” Lucian suggested. ”And then we can begin the explanations that she isn't going to believe.”

She had been expecting to tell a story that no one was going to believe.

Lucian led the way across the room to a library with double doors. As she walked in, she saw a man leaning against a mantel, a drink in his hand, as he spoke to someone across the room.

”Sean, she's arrived. I didn't have to look for her,” Lucian said.

”So you're Jordan Riley,” Sean Canady said. He was about forty, fit and handsome, with fine, serious eyes. She started across the room, ready to shake his hand.

Then she saw the man to whom he had been speaking.

She froze where she stood; Ragnor Wulfsson was standing just across the room from where Canady leaned against the mantel.

”Jordan,” Ragnor began, walking toward her.

G.o.d! This was it! She had traveled through the night, only across the expanse of the Atlantic, to find herself facing the same terror.

There would be no escape here, she thought. She had run from a place with friends and family, and she was here alone and he was here.

No escape . . . She pictured Tiff's ashen body, saw her shoulders pull free from her head.

She turned and ran.

Ignoring the startled cries of Jade DeVeau, she shoved the woman out of her way and fled from the house, bursting through the front door, racing down the steps. She hopped into the Honda and gunned the motor, realizing that she could mire the car in the unpaved driveway if she didn't calm down and use some sense. She didn't even know where she was driving. She peeled out, and shot along the lonely strip of road.

Suddenly, she slammed on her brakes. There was something in the road ahead of her. A shadow. A shape ...

A man. Her lights focused on a man standing in her path. Ragnor.

She hit the b.u.t.ton for her window.

”Move out of the way. I swear, I'll run you over.”

”Jordan, stop it, you're in danger-”

”From you!”

”No, d.a.m.n you, not from me. Will you come back to the house and talk? We will do our best to explain.”

”Explain that you're monsters, and that you kill people, and that Sean Canady writes about vampires with such knowledge because he is one?”

”Sean isn't a vampire.”

”But-you are?”

”Jordan, I have to explain-”

She didn't let him finish. She floored the car, sickened that she was going to hit him, but so panicked that she could do nothing else. Yet as the car sped across the highway, Ragnor seemed to fade into the darkness.

She slowed when she came to a crossroad, peering through the window, trying desperately to decide which way to go to get back to people-lots of people. Normal people.

Then she let out a scream of terror. Ragnor was at her window. ”Jordan, you've got to listen to me-”

Once again, she hit the gas pedal, shot out into the intersection. A car was coming from the left. He blared his horn.

Jordan swerved and lost control. The car spun. The next thing she knew, she was flying into the foliage at the side of the road. The car came to a violent halt as she hit a tree stump. She'd neglected to wear a seat belt in her haste to escape. She only kept herself in the car and in one piece with the death grip she had on the steering wheel.

”Jordan!” She heard his deep voice as he called to her. In panic she pushed open the door and started to run into the night.

”Jordan!”

The next thing she knew, he was behind her, his hands on her shoulders. She turned, screaming, kicking, fighting. In her effort to free herself from his grasp, she stumbled backward in a pile of weeds and fell flat, bringing him down with her.

He braced his hands against her shoulders, sprawled halfway over her. ”Jordan, stop it, for the love of G.o.d, stop it! You have to listen-”

He broke off so suddenly that she ceased to fight. She stared at him and realized that he was listening to something that she didn't hear. It had taken his attention from her. If she chose just the right moment ...

But then she heard it, too. Wings ...

Wings in the night.

A whisper, a hiss, a warning . ..

She didn't need to escape him; he was no longer touching her. As she stared into the darkness, she saw a shadow form just feet away. Ragnor leaped to his feet, turning to face the shadow. The darkness took shape. A man, a man in a large black coat. From beneath it, he drew a long and glistening sword.

Ragnor walked toward the man on the roadway. Jordan lay stunned, watching him. Then, as she saw Ragnor draw some kind of a weapon from his jacket, she got to her feet.

She watched the two men approaching one another. The sword was swung by the stranger, a man with a face she'd never seen before. Ragnor ducked the swing of the blade, and the sword whistled through the night air.

Jordan found the strength to move. Her car was useless. She moved carefully, silently across the road, standing opposite the two men edging back toward the way she had come.

Then she saw Ragnor strike. He had only a long bladed knife, while the other man wielded a sword, but the stranger had lost his balance. Ragnor sprang forward with a sure, true aim, catching the fellow dead center in his throat.

Jordan screamed.

The man dropped his sword, clutching his throat. Blood was spilling from his wound.

Ragnor went in mercilessly for the kill.

She screamed again as the man's head flopped to his side, and still, Ragnor did not cease. He struck out again, and again, until the man's head fell from his body, and into the foliage. A second later, the body-which had wobbled even after it had lost its head- went cras.h.i.+ng into the bushes after it.

She had never felt such pure hysteria. She simply stood, screaming and screaming, and then she saw Ragnor stare at her, and she backed away, and she wanted to run, but she couldn't, she could only stare at him as if she could preserve her own life by keeping him locked in front of her with her eyes.

”Jordan!”

Once again, she started backing away, shaking her head in disbelief and horror.

”Jordan, he was sent to- kill you. Or stop you, bring you down. I still don't completely understand-”

”Stop!” she raised a hand before her, still backing away. She hit soft dirt. Her heel sank, and again, she stumbled backward.