She knew what he was thinking. It wasn’t just about territory now. Villagrande was angry because she had destroyed Shirl.
“If he wants a life for a life,” Rhys said, “I’ll give him mine.”
“No!” Fear for Rhys, fear for her own life, leeched the strength from Megan’s legs, and she dropped down on the love seat. “I’m the one who killed Shirl.”
“This isn’t open to discussion, Megan,” Rhys said, his voice gruff. “I told you before, this is between Villagrande and me. No one else.”
“You know you can’t face him alone,” Erik said. “Hell, I’m not sure the five of us together can beat him.”
“He’s so old,” Daisy remarked, a note of awe in her voice. “Who knows, maybe he is indestructible.” With a shake of her head, she murmured, “Maybe he really is immortal.”
“Only one way to find out,” Alex said with a cocky grin.
“The address,” Rhys said, his voice sharp. “I want it now.”
With an apologetic glance at Megan, Alex gave Rhys the street address.
Before she could beg him not to go, Rhys was gone. Springing to her feet, she cried, “Erik, you’ve got to go with him! Please! You said it yourself, he doesn’t stand a chance alone.”
“She’s right,” Alex said, pumping his arm in the air. “Erik, let’s you and me go kick some vampire ass.”
Megan sighed and glanced at her watch. It seemed like Rhys, Erik, and Alex had been gone for hours.
She was about to ask Daisy how she could appear so calm when her husband might be fighting Villagrande at that very moment, when Daisy suddenly rose to her feet.
“What’s wrong?” Megan asked, her mind filling with horrible possibilities.
“I thought I heard Erik calling me.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe something’s gone wrong.” Daisy moved toward the front door. “Erik?”
Rising, Megan walked up behind Daisy. “I don’t hear anything.”
“He’s calling me,” Daisy said, her brow furrowing.
“Why doesn’t he come inside?”
“He’s badly hurt. He…oh, no!”
“What is it?” Megan asked anxiously. “What’s happened?”
“Megan, I’m so sorry. He said Alex is badly hurt and…and Rhys is dead.”
Megan pressed her hand to her chest as the room began to spin. Rhys was dead…dead…dead. “No.” She shook her head. “I don’t believe it….”
A high-pitched cry came from outside. Shouting Erik’s name, Daisy opened the door and dashed out into the night.
Megan started after her, only to come to an abrupt halt as a dark shape filled the doorway.
Before her mind could register what she was seeing, pain exploded through her head and everything went black.
Chapter 45
Rhys stood in the shadows on Centre Street, his senses reaching out toward the brown-and-beige, two-story Colonial house. The yard was well kept, the lawn green, with a few shrubs in front. Five steps climbed to the front porch. Rose bushes grew on either side of the stairs.
The stink of death shrouded the place. Under the stench of fear and blood, the unmistakable smell of vampire lingered in the air. A distant part of his mind wondered how Villagrande had gained entrance to the house.
A thought carried Rhys into the living room. He wouldn’t have been able to enter the house uninvited if the family had still been alive, but murder had been done here, destroying the threshold’s basic protection. He had no need of an invitation. And no need to wonder further how Villagrande had gained entrance. The blood splattered on the floor inside the entryway told the tale. Someone had unwittingly invited Villagrande inside. And died because of it.
Rhys moved silently through the dark rooms, following Villagrande’s trail. The vampire had struck the four other members of the family while they slept, as evidenced by the blood-stained sheets and blankets carelessly tossed over the bodies.
Rhys lingered in the nursery where the last murder had occurred. The room was decorated with fairy wallpaper and pictures of Tinker Bell. The baby had died last. A Tinker Bell quilt, bright with blood, covered the dead infant. A Peter Pan lamp stood on the dresser beside a framed photo of a woman holding a baby. The mother and child? The woman was young and pretty, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. The baby was rosy-cheeked and blue-eyed.
Rhys swore softly. He had done some pretty despicable things in the course of his existence, but he had never killed an infant. Would he do such a thing if he existed as long as Villagrande? Would he view mortals as nothing but prey, his to do with as he pleased? The thought brought him up short and with it came the realization that he was close to feeling that way now. Or he had been, until Megan had come into his life. She had reminded him of how frail mortals were, how tenuous and precious their hold on life.
Megan. Needing to know she was all right, he closed his eyes, concentrating on the bond between them, and felt nothing. Only two things could prevent him from linking with her; she was either unconscious, or dead.
Before he could determine which, he sensed Villagrande’s approach. An instant later, the vampire materialized in the room. Preternatural power radiated from him, enhanced by the fresh blood he had recently consumed.
“So,” Tomás said. “We end it, now.”
“What have you done with Megan?”
A smile that was pure evil spread across Villagrande’s face. “You’ll never know.”
“Dammit, where is she? What have you done to her?” He couldn’t ask the question uppermost in his mind. Couldn’t ask if she was dead, afraid that saying it aloud might make it so.
“Me?” Villagrande spread one hand over his heart. “I’ve done nothing.”
“Don’t play games with me, you bastard. Where is she?”
Villagrande rocked back on his heels. “She killed Shirl. She wounded me. I will have my revenge.”
“No! Dammit, if you want a life, take mine.”
“I intend to.”
Rhys glared at the other vampire, his mind racing. How had Villagrande managed to bypass the safeguards on Delacourt’s house? And having done so, what had he done to Erik, Daisy, and Alex? Had he destroyed them all?
The thought had scarcely crossed his mind when Erik and Alex appeared in the room.
Villagrande looked at them and laughed. “Three against one, Costain? Hardly sporting.”