Page 12 of Twilight Longings
A few steps took her into a spacious living room that was beautifully decorated with expensive furniture and tables. Several paintings adorned the walls. Fancy draperies covered the windows, plush carpets muted her footsteps.
Eleni crossed into the kitchen, surprised to see a stove and a refrigerator. The cupboards were bare of food but contained dishes, cookware, and silverware. She grunted softly. No doubt the appliances had been installed before Saintcrow brought his wife across.
She moved through the rest of the house, wondering where he kept his lair. A set of stairs led up to the turret rooms. Curious, she followed them up. Of the four rooms, the two in front were empty. A glance in the third revealeda bed and a cot. A large, black, wrought-iron cross adorned one wall, which she found curious. Few vampires remained religious once they’d been turned, although she did know of a vampire priest.
She was about to go back downstairs, thinking there was probably little of interest in the last turret room, but something compelled her to look anyway. The last chamber was furnished with a bed, a chair, and a small table. A tapestry that she guessed was hundreds of years old covered the far wall from the floor to the ceiling. The colors were faded, the edges frayed. Surely an antique, most likely quite valuable. And quite beautiful. It depicted a knight in chainmail mounted on a rearing black charger. The knight wore a white surcoat emblazoned with a red cross. He held a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. A slow smile spread over her face when she realized the knight was none other than Saintcrow.
Eleni ran her fingertips along the edge of the tapestry, then pulled it away from the wall to peek at the backside. And saw a door. Curious, she opened it and stared at a long, spiral staircase. It was pitch black down there, but with her preternatural vision, she didn’t need a light.
The staircase ended in a tunnel. Her curiosity growing, she followed it. Eventually, it ended at a heavy oak door bound with thick iron straps. There was no handle.
She had found his lair, she thought, with satisfaction. And his woman. Was she dark or fair? Sure to be lovely, Eleni mused. Unable to restrain her curiosity, she materialized inside the room. A young woman lay on her back on a king-sized bed. Her hair was dark brown and fell in thick waves over her shoulders almost to her waist. And she was, indeed, lovely.
Eleni was about to transport herself out of the house when a voice thick with anger hissed, “What the hell are you doing in here?”
“Satisfying my curiosity,” she replied calmly as she turned to face him.
“Get out.”
“I don’t take orders from you.”
“Get out!” he roared. The words vibrated up and down the length of the tunnel.
Eleni hadn’t been afraid of anything since she’d been turned, but Saintcrow’s rage was palpable and not to be dismissed lightly. With a slight inclination of her head, she vanished from the fortress.
Hands clenched at his sides, Saintcrow took several deep breaths. Why had Eleni come here? Mere curiosity? Or for some other nefarious purpose? His gaze moved over Kadie, who lay as before, still and silent as the grave.
Heart aching and lonely, he stretched out beside her and drew her into his arms, wondering if perhaps he should end her life.
And his own.
Chapter Ten
Izabela placed her left hand on the soul-catcher, which she had repaired earlier, and her right hand on Luca’s dagger. Closing her eyes, she began to chant. In the last twelve hours, she had tried every spell she could think of save for this enchantment which she had created and which, in a hundred years, had never worked quite the way she had intended. But now she was desperate.
At first, there was nothing but a kind of magical static. And then, gradually, a hazy picture formed in her mind—a little red-headed girl, perhaps four or five years old, sat on her father’s lap while he read her a bedtime story.
Izabela’s chant grew more focused and the image changed, and now when she looked at the girl, she saw two souls inhabiting the same body—one spirit very young and innocent, the other very, very old and evil.
“Luca.” The name whispered past Izabela’s lips.
And the little girl with the red pigtails looked at her across time and space. And smiled.
Reeling back, Izabela snatched her hands from the soul-catcher and the dagger as if they had suddenly turned deadly. How on earth had Luca invaded the body of a little girl? Ordinarily, evil as vile and twisted as his could not overpower the innocence of a child. Seeing his malevolent soul inside the girl’s body made Izabela sick to her stomach.
Deeply troubled, she rose and paced back and forth, the gray cat at her heels. Luca Sasan was even more malevolent and powerful than she had feared. The necromancer had no conscience, no sense of morality, no shred of decency. Should he transfer into a stronger body, one whose mind could be easily manipulated, one whose soul was already tainted with evil, there was no end to the chaos he could unleash on an unwary world.
She wondered how long Luca could inhabit the child before his presence robbed her of her innocence and tainted the purity of her soul. Evil spirits had been causing misery and anarchy since time began. The Bible was filled with stories of ordinary men, women, and children who had been possessed by devils and malicious spirits.
Dropping into her rocking chair, Izabela picked up her cell phone and called Jason Kincaid. He was on her front porch almost before she finished speaking. Saintcrow, too.
Sighing, she went to answer the door. “Do either of you mean me any harm?”
Kincaid said, “No.”
“Not today,” Saintcrow muttered irritably.
She glowered at him a moment, then took a step back and unlocked the screen door. “Come in.”
