Night's Mistress (Children of The Night 5)
Page 47
“I . . . I don’t remember.”
He regarded her a moment, his brow furrowed. “I thought you might want to take a break.”
“Yes, I would. Thank you.”
He offered her his hand, and she let him pull her to her feet. “Can we continue this tomorrow?” she asked. “I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed.”
“Sure, honey, if that’s what you want. I’ll be up in a little while.”
“All right.” She kissed him on the cheek and then left the room, her heart heavy with a load of guilt and remorse.
Chapter Twenty-four
“Gone? What do you mean, she’s gone?” Lou stared at her sister. “Where would she go?”
“I don’t know. She missed her last appointment. When I called to see if she was all right, I got a message saying the number had been disconnected. Ramsden went out to the house to check on her, but no one was home, and there was a For Rent sign on the front lawn.”
Lou drummed her fingertips on the tabletop. “Why would she leave?” she asked, frowning. “And where would she go?”
Cindy shrugged. “Who knows why vampires do anything? I’m going to order dessert,” she said as their waitress approached the table. “Do you want anything?”
“Apple pie a là mode and a cup of coffee, black.”
Cindy ordered the same, then leaned forward, her arms crossed on the table. “Ramsden’s going crazy. He’s called everyone he can think of, but no one knows where Mara’s gone, or why. He was supposed to induce her tomorrow night. He’s got everything ready. Crib, blankets, diapers, even a wet nurse.”
Lou grunted softly. Something about this whole thing just didn’t add up. Why would Mara take off now, when the baby was due? Had something spooked her? And if so, what? Had Bowden found her? Was he the one she was running from? Or had they taken off together? Maybe telling him where Mara was hadn’t been such a great idea after all.
Lou raked her fingers through her hair. Maybe it was time to get in touch with Bowden. Digging her cell phone out of her pocket, she punched in his number and got a recording saying the number was no longer in service. Damn.
“Something wrong?” Cindy asked.
“Bowden’s phone isn’t working. Why do you suppose he’d cancel his service?”
“Maybe he lost his cell and got a new one.”
“Maybe,” Lou said thoughtfully. “Or maybe he found what he was looking for.”
“You think he found Mara?”
“I’d say it was a definite possibility.”
“Oh?”
“I gave him Ramsden’s address.”
“Why on earth did you do that?”
“I don’t know,” Lou muttered. “But it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Well, pardon the pun,” Cindy retorted, “but it sure sucks now.”
Ramsden paced the floor of the delivery room he had painstakingly prepared. There was a hospital bed with tie-down straps for Mara, a crib for the baby, and a wet nurse waiting for his call.
A string of oaths emerged from his lips as he stared down at the bed. Here it was, the night before he was to induce her, and Mara had gone missing. Had something tipped her off? He went back over the times he had seen her and shook his head. He was certain he had never said or done anything to make her the least bit suspicious of his motives, and yet she had taken off without a word. Why? And what was he going to tell his wife? Janis had been wanting a baby for months, nagging, begging, crying for the child he couldn’t give her. Mara had come along at just the right time. At the height of her powers, no one on Earth, living or Undead, could touch her, but she was helpless now. Helpless and pregnant, like the answer to a prayer.
In the beginning, he had only been interested in the child. He had intended to do some research on the baby before taking it home, hence the crib, changing table, and other items necessary for looking after a newborn. Who knew what could be learned from a child conceived by a mortal and a vampire that was thousands of years old? He hadn’t decided what to do about Mara, whether to let her live or dispose of her after the baby was born. If he’d decided to let her live, he had planned to tell her that the baby had been born dead and deformed and that he had disposed of it.
As the months went by, he had grown more and more curious about Mara’s condition, and he began to wonder what had caused her to revert. Had she found a cure for the vampire’s kiss, and if so, what was it? Vampires, especially those newly made, often came to him looking for a cure that didn’t exist. But if he could find one, there was a fortune to be made. One way or the other, he was certain something in Mara’s DNA held the answers.
Of course, all his plans were useless without Mara.
Plucking a stuffed teddy bear from the crib, he stared at it a moment, then ripped it in half and threw the pieces across the room. He had never been one to give up without a fight. He wouldn’t start now. He would find Mara. One way or another, he would find her.
Chapter Twenty-five
Edna Mae Turner pulled a pair of crystal wineglasses from the cupboard. She filled one for herself with O positive and after filling the second glass with AB negative, she handed it to her best friend, Pearl. She had met Pearl Jackson in a maternity ward in a Texas hospital decades ago. They had been friends, both as mortals and vampires, ever since. Shortly after they had been turned, they had bought this house and moved in together. Together, they had learned how to survive as vampires. She grinned inwardly. They were an odd couple. She was short, rather plump, and a trifle vain; Pearl was tall and angular. Edna dyed her hair red; Pearl’s was as white as new-fallen snow. Their taste in furnishings was also disparate. Edna liked chrome and glass, Pearl liked antiques, which made for an interesting mix when they moved in together.
“To Travis,” Edna said, lifting her glass.
“To Travis,” Pearl echoed.
Grimacing, Edna sipped the contents of her glass. She was used to the taste, had, in fact, grown to love it, but sometimes she forgot that she was a vampire and that drinking blood was no longer repulsive.
“I miss him,” Pearl said, wiping a crimson tear from her eye. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”
Travis Jackson had been Pearl’s grandson. Pearl had brought him across shortly after the Dark Gift had been forced upon her.
Pearl took another drink. “This is quite good. Have you found a new source?”
“Indeed, I have.” They had discovered early on that they didn’t like hunting. Instead, they had found a rather unsavory character named Josiah Hogg who sold blood to the vampire community. “Our new supplier’s name is Pritkin. He’s much more pleasant than Hogg ever was. Cheaper, too. And he smells better.”