Part 28 (1/2)
”There is no real dominatrix,” she replied.
He reached under his coat. Reaching, she was certain, for one of his deadly arrows.
”Listen to me,” she pleaded. ”The dominatrix is all an act. I created her with rumor. I had to find a way to get into the Master's parties without appearing to be suspicious. I swear to you, the dominatrix never appeared in the flesh until Transylvania.”
He sat back, his weight on his haunches, but his thighs like iron. ”So you were at the debacle in Transylvania. Feasting?”
”No, you idiot. How could you have missed what happened here tonight? I killed more of those evil creatures than you did,” she told him.
He hiked a brow. ”I hardly think so. And what does it matter? Vampires have a habit of turning on one another when the need arises. And you are a vampire.”
She stared at him, then swallowed hard. Her voice, when she spoke, was barely a whisper. ”There are good vampires.”
She watched the agony streak across his rugged features. ”There is no such thing as a good vampire.”
”But there is,” she whispered. ”There is. I swear it.” Her mind raced. He knew she was a vampire. Was that all he knew? ”How do you think all those people escaped while you were battling the Master in Transylvania? How do you think so many survived?” ”You?”
She met his eyes defiantly, as if daring him to doubt her.
”So where is the Master?” he demanded harshly.
”Oh, G.o.d,” she whispered.
”You have no right to say that name.”
”You b.a.s.t.a.r.d! You know nothing,” she charged. ”And while we're here fighting each other...it was a setup,” she said. ”He's out there somewhere, killing, and we're here. He probably intended for us to kill each other. d.a.m.n you, I came here to kill him.”
Perhaps that convinced him at last; she would never know. They were both distracted by a bloodcurdling scream from the yard just outside the house.
He was up in a moment, and she leapt to her feet a split second later. They both tore for the door, but he was ahead of her, racing into the red darkness. She saw him, moving as if he flew. Then she heard a hollow cry and a roar of anger, saw a figure go flying....
An arrow stuck the figure, and it burst into dust in mid-air.
There were sobs, and then the harsh demand, ”Were you bitten?”
”No, no...I don't think so,” a feminine voice said pathetically.
Whatever else went on there that night, Jessica decided, Bryan could handle it. It was time for her to make an exit-as speedily as possible.
He was, after all, a warrior.
And the Master was out there...somewhere.
The young girl, wearing too much makeup and a too-short skirt, stared at Bryan blankly. She was ashen and shaking, and looked as if she had gone entirely stupid, as if her mind had burned within her skull. She'd been drinking, maybe taking drugs. Would she even remember this?
”Come over here,” he commanded impatiently.
”Are you...one of them?” she stuttered in fear. Mascara streaked her cheeks.
”Come here. For the love of G.o.d, I'm out of time. I've got to get you out of here, but I have to be certain-”
”I swear I wasn't bitten. Don't stake me.”
He sighed, gripped her arm and pulled her close. She didn't struggle. He saw a bruise on her neck; it was amazing she had managed to scream when she had been so nearly strangled by the vampire's grip.
He searched her arms, any bared flesh. She just stood there, shaking.
He could find no marks.”You look clean. If you're lying to me...”
He held her for a minute, praying that instinct would kick in. He could usually trust his instinct.
Usually.
He had failed with Jessica. He had heard a heartbeat when he held her. She had been as warm as fire. He had, in fact, never felt such a fire.
He swore suddenly. ”Where are your friends? Who did you come here with?”
”I...I...Cindy and Jean. They're gone. They ran...faster. My shoe caught in a tree root. I...”
She trailed off, staring at him. Then she burst into tears, threw herself against him and pa.s.sed out.
”s.h.i.+t,” he swore.
He had to get her back to people and light and safety.
There were no cop cars coming tonight. Tonight had all been a sham. The Master was somewhere else. They had all been conned.
He sighed deeply. He couldn't leave her.
And whatever the Master had been planning, Bryan was certain, had already been accomplished.
He lifted the girl into his arms and turned back toward the house. He didn't even bother calling Jessica's name. He knew she was already gone.
15.
J essica burst into Montresse House, terrified that everything had gone wrong, that the Master had come and called out to Mary, who was still under his thrall, and had been unable to fight back, even with Gareth's help. Jeremy and Nancy would have been useless, and against the Master, what hope could Stacey and Gareth have had?
Gareth was at the front door. He stared at her with concern, then slowly arched a brow. She knew why. She never returned to her own house in leather, lace and latex. Tonight, however, she had been in far too great a hurry to worry about a costume change.
”The others...they're all right?” she demanded.
He nodded, looking perplexed. ”Of course. You were the one at the party. The Master-”
”The Master didn't show,” she said briefly. With disbelief, she added, ”He didn't come here?”