Chapter Three

 

After a quick stop at the liquor store, Evangeline hurried back to her mobile home. The weight in her skirt pocket reminded her to hurry. Nothing good could come of wandering the streets alone at night, especially carrying thousands of dollars in cash. The occasional footstep behind her made her turn. No one. She reasoned that her imagination was playing tricks but rushed anyway. She’d worked hard for that money and no one was going to take that away. Not again.

Her hands shook as she turned the key and she almost dropped it. What’s wrong with you? Once inside, she locked the three deadlocks and plonked down on the bed. Safe. Well, as safe as one could be in a broken down, crap-heap of a campervan. She pulled the notes from her pocket, spreading them over the worn quilt. So many hundred-dollar bills. A squeal of delight escaped unbidden. She covered her mouth with her hand. The area she’d chosen to park the van may have been isolated, but you never knew who might be within earshot.

After stacking the notes in piles of ten, she began counting her stash. One, two, three, four, five. Five thousand dollars! She gave herself a mental pat on the back. Not bad for one night’s work. But, as usual, the exhilaration soon dissipated when she thought back to how she’d acquired the windfall. Poor Tony. He seemed like a nice guy. Most of her targets were nice people. Nice, rich, people. People who could easily manage with a few thousand less in their fat bank accounts. The familiar pang of guilt tied knots in her stomach, she doubled over and groaned, trying to convince herself that she was merely hungry. The pain passed. The guilt didn’t.

She grabbed the brown paper bag from the bed, grateful that she’d remembered to make a pit-stop on the way home. It’s just you and me again, Jim. The bottle declined to answer, but she didn’t mind. The sweet, dark liquid may not have been much of a conversationalist, but it was good company on a lonely, summer’s eve. Evangeline sighed. What would Mama think if she could see me, sitting alone, drinking from a bottle? Tears burned behind her eyes, but she blinked them away and reached for her cell phone.

“Hello, Mama?”

“Evangeline? Is that you, baby?”

“Yes, Mama. How are you? Are they treating you well?”

“I’m fine, honey. Just fine. Excuse me a minute…” Cough. “The staff here are very kind, but I miss you. When are you coming to visit me?”

“Soon.” She stared down at the piles of cash. “My boss just gave me a bonus. Soon I’ll have enough money for a deposit on a small house. We can be together again.”

“I’d like that.” Her mother said. “I’d like that very much, but—”

“I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t want to hear it.” Evangeline covered her mouth with her hand, swallowing the sob that threatened to betray her. Must stay strong for Mama. “You’re going to get well.”

After a long pause, her mother spoke.

“I know you’re very busy at work, but I’d really like to see you. There are things I need to say, things you should know. Important things.”

“Next week. I could be there by Friday. Would that be okay?” Will that be too late?

“Friday! Oh, darling. That would be wonderful. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Then, it’s a date. I gotta go now. Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams, my darling. Mwah. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

She depressed the “hang up” key and dissolved into tears. Hang on Mama. I’ll get the money, somehow. We’ll find a cure. The pile of money seemed to shrink before her eyes. Not enough. Not nearly enough for both a deposit on a home plus medical expenses. Together with the bag of money stashed in the wall safe, she had a grand total of seventy-eight thousand dollars.

Gotta think. She took another swig from the bottle before hiding the night’s takings with the rest of her money. Mama sounded dreadful. Worse than the last time they spoke. How much time did she have left? She stalked the tiny home, taking large gulps of alcohol from the bottle as she thought aloud.

“I need to pull off something big. Something worth hundreds of thousands. But how?”

The lights in the room began to flicker in quick succession.

“Damned generator!” Slamming the bourbon down onto the table, she opened the kitchen cabinet and snatched up three candles and a packet of matches. Before she had time to light them, the lights went out.

“Fuck.”

Black as pitch, the inside of the home seemed darker than outside. She opened the curtains a little to allow the moon to illuminate the room. No sooner had she done so, when she noticed it. Something on the table emitted its own light. On closer inspection, she gasped. Slap dang in the middle of the pile of trinkets, glowed one particularly unusual medallion. Hesitantly, she reached out and touched the object with the tip of her index finger, immediately regretting her decision.

“Ouch!”

She fumbled her way to the sink and held her finger to the cold water until the pain subsided, but the damage was already done. Damn. That’s going to blister. Intuition warned her to destroy the object or, at the very least, toss it far into the woods, but she fought the impulse. Whatever this was, it had power. Heaps of it. If she could somehow learn to harness this power…

“What the fuck?”

A face stared back at her through the window. A male face, as pale as snow with eyes as cold as a blizzard. The money! As she ran to the kitchen, her thoughts raced to the small wall safe. How much had he seen? She snatched up the largest knife she could find and turned back to the window. The gall of the man. He hadn’t moved, despite knowing he’d been noticed. What nerve.

“I have a knife and I’m prepared to use it,” she warned as the knife shook in her hand.

His expression remained unchanged, unaffected by her threat. Ice cold. She considered jumping into the driver’s seat and driving away, but as if he could read her mind, he shook his head. Bile rose in her throat. She swallowed it down, regretting the large quantity of alcohol she’d consumed. Think, Evangeline.

“Give me the medallion.” He ordered. A pane of glass the only thing between her and the intruder. She shook her head and used the knife blade to slide the medallion into her pocket. If this man wanted it so bad, it must be worth a fortune.

“Go fuck yourself.” She told him, embarrassed at how meek the words sounded aloud. She’d hoped to sound intimidating. She didn’t.

“Give me the medallion, and I’ll let you live.”

Let me live? Her heart beat a mile a minute and she found breathing difficult. She leaned against the kitchen table for support as the strength left her legs. God, help me. He’s gonna kill me. She fixed her gaze on the man, afraid to look, afraid to look away. Nothing in his expression gave her any hope of convincing him to spare her. Despite his handsome features, the long straight nose, the cropped wheat-blond hair and ice-blue eyes, there was no doubt in her mind. This man was a stone-cold killer.

“Open the door.” He instructed, and her legs obeyed.

What? No! She forced herself to stop just as her hand touched the first lock. What the hell? How was he doing that?

“Open the door!” he repeated as she fought the compulsion to comply.

“I don’t know how you’re doing that, but stay the fuck out of my head, you asshole!”

She turned back to face the window. His expression had changed slightly. He seemed more focused, maybe a little annoyed.

“You will let me in.”

“No, I won’t.” At least I hope I won’t. The compulsion intensified as she stared into his hypnotic, pale eyes. Must fight it. Mustn’t look into his eyes.

She reached out, grabbing the edges of the curtains, and pulled them shut. It was a risk, she knew that, but what choice did she have? Somehow, he had found a way to use his eyes to control her mind. Another thought hit her. A realization that gave her hope of surviving the night. The supernatural abilities. The pale skin and hypnotic eyes. She’d heard stories of creatures with those characteristics but, until now, she’d never believed them. Vampire.

He can’t come in unless invited.

“Open the door!”

The sound of footsteps moved from the side to the front of the van, stopping outside the door.

She held her breath. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe he was playing a sick game. Maybe this was the end. The van shook as he pounded on the door. She covered her ears with her hands and curled into a tight ball on the floor.

“Go away!”

The pounding at the door stopped, but the pounding in her chest increased.

“This isn’t over,” he warned her. “I’ll be watching you.”

Minutes turned to hours. Still, she remained on the floor … waiting. Had he really gone? Would he come back tonight? Light began to filter through the gap under the curtains. She rose to her feet, grimacing in pain as she rubbed circulation back into her aching muscles. This day was sure to come. She’d known there’d be a price for her misusing her gift. A day of reckoning. She shook her head. You’ve made your bed, now lie in it. The avenging angel has come to collect. No. Strike that. No angel, not even a man. Her punishment would come at the hands of a vampire.

****

Christoff lay on the bed in his darkened room of the guest house and waited for the sun to go down. His cell phone danced across the bedside table for the third time this morning and, once again, he ignored it, knowing it would be his hosts wanting details about the case. My case. When would they get that through their thick skulls? If Lupescu had somehow managed to survive, disposing of the mage was his responsibility and his alone. He neither required, nor desired assistance.

The events of the previous night troubled him. This woman, this charlatan. How had she been able to resist his compulsions? He crossed his arms behind his head and recalled the turn of events. She’d begun to succumb, he’d watched her hand go to the lock and yet … somehow, she’d denied him entry. Puzzling. He tried to recall another time his mind control had failed, and when the memory came to him, it turned his blood to ice. Lupescu.

He swung his long legs over the edge of the bed and sprung to his feet, pacing with no idea which direction to follow, until he stalked past the flyer on his desk.

Have you been troubled by unexplained events in your home?

Do your animals react to noises undetectable to the human ear?

Have you noticed cold patches or feeling of foreboding?

Madame Eva is the answer to your problems. Call the number below for an obligation-free quote.

Madame Eva. Hah. If that was her real name. There must be a way to trap her. His cell rang again and, deep in thought, he unwittingly answered it.

“What?”

“Hello to you too, Berg.”

“What is it, Palmer? I’m extremely busy.”

“Look, it’s not my idea to call. Susie was worried about you. You haven’t answered her calls.”

Christoff felt some of the tension release from his shoulders. So, the little one worries about me. He cleared his throat and growled into the phone. “Well, if she’s that concerned, why didn’t she call?”

“Sudden attack of nausea. She’s throwing up as we speak, poor kid.”

The tension in his neck returned. “Is she ill?”

“Well … she’d planned on telling your herself, but … we’re moving up the wedding to next month and she refused to go ahead without you.”

“Why the hurry? How ill is she? Wait, you’re telling me that she’s having a baby?”

“And we couldn’t be more pleased, except for the morning sickness that, incidentally, lasts most of the day.”

Christoff plonked down on the edge of the bed, the leaflet fluttering to the floor.

“Congratulations.” They were a fine couple who deserved nothing less than the joy of a baby. A joy he would never personally experience. “Your happy home will be complete.”

He reached down to retrieve the flyer and stopped. This might work.

“Palmer. It pains me to ask you, but how would you like to help me catch a thief?”

****

Evangeline checked the address on her cell. No, this was the right place. Bummer. The man on the phone had promised he’d pay anything for her help. Anything. Judging by the look of this house, she’d be lucky to make a couple of hundred. She shrugged her shoulders and marched herself up the pebbled path. Oh, well. I’m here. I may as well get this over with.

As she waited for someone to answer her knock, she realized an important issue. I didn’t work my magic on this place. There may be a real spirit here. She suppressed a giggle. Yeah, whatever. Probably the fertile imagination of a neurotic little man. Raising her arm, she realized she’d forgotten to wear her watch. Whatever. A few flying objects, a sudden gust of wind or two, a theatrical performance and she’d be out in around two hours. Plenty of time to leave town before the vampire returned.

“Hello. You must be Madame Eva.”

The handsome young man greeted her with an extended hand which she readily grabbed and held tight.

“Well, hello, yourself.” Maybe I could spare an extra hour or two. She glanced down at her blouse. Damn. Why did I wear my favorite? Oh, well. What’s another ripped blouse? Que sera, sera. “Mr. Palmer, I presume.”

“Call me Terry,” he told her as she entered the home.

“Lovely home you have here, Terry,” she told him, trying to act impressed as she looked around the darkened room. The block-out curtains had been pulled closed. Inexpensive lamps illuminated the room.

Sure, it was a lovely home, but not what she’d expected. A couple of extra floors and perhaps a chandelier or two may have given her hope. This was a hundred-dollar job. Nothing more, nothing less. Ah, well. Best get to work.

“You were right to call me here, Terry. I sense a dark presence in this house.” With a subtle flick of her wrist, she sent a vase sailing across the room. It hit the wall beside the hallway, just as a pretty young woman stepped into view. The woman ducked in time, rising while holding her stomach.

“Are you okay, honey?” Terry rushed to her side. “I told you to stay in bed.”

“I can’t spend the entire pregnancy in bed.” She scowled. “Besides, I had to use the bathroom, again.”

Pregnancy? The contents of Evangeline’s stomach churned. No way was she going to risk harming a pregnant woman or her baby.

“I think I’ve made a mistake.” She told them with a shake of her head as she backed towards the door. “There’s no danger here.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“You!”

 Evangeline made a dash for the door. Too late. The vampire blocked her path, his shoulders filling the entire door frame. But how? She glanced past him at the window. The curtains blocked any sunlight that might have filtered through. She turned to run, but found her path blocked by the homeowners.

“I see you’ve met Christoff?” the young woman asked.

“Not officially.” Evangeline turned back towards the vampire. “So, the monster has a name.”

Christoff took a step closer, his glacial eyes boring into hers. “You dare to call me a monster?” His top lip curled. “I’ve seen you exploit children in order to swindle their parents, but what kind of fiend would harm an unborn child for the monetary gain?”

“I would never!” she screamed back at him before turning towards the other woman. “Honestly, I didn’t know. I would never have come had I known.”

“Liar!” Christoff snarled as he closed the gap between them. “I should end your sorry existence—”

“Woah, Lurch.” Terry stepped between them, holding the giant back with his outstretched arms. “She’s human. You can’t hurt her or else the coven will come down on you like a ton of bricks.”

The woman tried a different approach, stroking Christoff’s arm as she assured him, “I’m all right. She didn’t hurt me, or the baby.”

“But—”

“I believe her. She seemed genuinely upset that she’d thrown the vase.” She turned to Evangeline who nodded vehemently. “There, see. Now let’s all sit down and…oh, no.”

“Is she okay?” Evangeline asked as the woman dashed from the room holding her hand over her mouth.

“Morning sickness,” Terry informed her. “She’ll be gone for a while.”

“It’s time for me to go, too.” She scooted around him, only to be grabbed by the arm. “Let. Me. Go. You. Oaf.” Turning back to Terry, she growled. “Can’t you control your pet?”

“Our business isn’t finished.” Christoff informed her as he dragged her over to the settee and forced her to sit.

“You can’t keep me here,” she warned. “If you fuckin’ touch me, I’ll scream the place down and your neighbors will call the cops.”

“I thought part of your charade was enticing your victims to touch you.” Christoff scoffed. “But, rest assured, I have no desire to do so. Even vampires have standards to uphold.”

“Ooh, burn!” Terry slapped his thigh and let out a laugh. “I didn’t know you had a sense of humor.” He was still smiling when he turned to Evangeline and, with a wink, informed her, “And, honey, I am the cops.”

“Oh, shit!” She leaned back against the settee, crossing her arms as she scowled. “So, what now?”

“Now, you will hand over the medallion.” Christoff extended his hand, palm up.

“Fuck off!” If he wants it so bad, it must be worth a fortune.

Terry shook his head. “That’s not very ladylike, language.”

“This one is no lady.”

With a forced smile, she raised her middle finger and screwed up her nose. “Listen, you can’t prove that I’ve done anything wrong here. I haven’t asked for money, so you can’t charge me with anything.”

“That’s true,” Terry scratched his chin, “but our friend here says you’ve been a naughty girl and, from what he’s told me, I imagine there are a few families in Azure Waters who can back up his stories.”

“Look. I’m leaving town anyway.” She edged forward on the couch. “Just let me go and I promise you’ll never hear from me again.”

As she tried to rise from her seat, Christoff extended his arm and forced her down, his hand brushing her chest. A shock of electricity tingled her senses, surprising her. Was it anger? Arousal? Whatever it was, she wasn’t about to let him know how much she enjoyed the touch of his hand on her breast.

“Did you enjoy that, Chris? Cop a nice feel?”

The giant of a man growled. “My name is Christoff. Christoff Berg.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She turned her attention back to the other man and smiled her most seductive grin. Come on charm, don’t let me down. “So, Terry. Do we have a deal?”

The men exchanged glances. Christoff shook his head. Anger rocked her body. What does he want from me?

“You asshole!” Jumping to her feet before he could stop her, she slapped his cheek. Hard. Pain shot through her hand and the skin turned red, but he showed no reaction to her attack. “What do you want from me?”

“I want the medallion.”

“Well, I don’t have it on me.” She told him, grateful that she’d left it in her mobile home.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then, I’ll have to prove it to you.”

She grabbed the hem of her blouse and yanked it over her head before stepping out of the skirt. Terry’s eyes widened before he turned away. Christoff’s face remained expressionless as he picked up the discarded items and shook them.

She posed in her underwear, feet apart and hands on hips as he tossed the clothes onto the settee. She waited for the lude remarks that usually followed her stripteases. The squirmy sensation on her skin and inside her belly that ensued as she tried to ignore the arousals of her targets. Instead, the palms of her own hands became clammy and doubt clouded her thoughts. Doesn’t he find me attractive? Why do I even care?

“Satisfied?”

“No. You may have the medallion concealed.”

“Wait a minute, Lurch. I think you’re taking things a bit far.” Terry argued as his cheeks flushed.

“Don’t worry, Terry,” she told him, “he wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?”

Christoff closed the gap, his cold eyes flaring as his gaze drifted down from her face, hovering over her breasts before resting on the lace of her panties. His mouth opened slightly as his tongue swiped over his top lip. Her heart skipped a beat. Would he rip the lace from her body, leaving her naked and vulnerable to his advances? How would he react to the dampness of her thong? His right hand reached out, painfully slowly as he scrutinized the junction of her thighs. She closed her eyes, waiting, imagining his fingers brushing against her arousal. Hating herself for allowing him to have that effect on her body. Wishing he’d hurry.

“Christoff!”

Susie stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. Pink blotches formed on her pale cheeks as she frowned. “Don’t you dare!”

His shoulders dropped, and he stepped away, but not in time to cover the bulge in his expensive jeans. “I must retrieve the medallion.”

Susie let out a long sigh and shook her head before disappearing into another room. When she returned, she sighed. “Men.” She turned towards Evangeline, rolling her eyes as she walked towards her, robe in hand. “If there’d been a medallion in her underwear, I’m sure we’d have been able to see it.” She motioned to the transparent lace and Evangeline inwardly smiled. The underwear had been specifically purchased to reveal as much skin as possible. It always worked like a charm. The suckers usually shot their load without her ever having to do anything more than wiggle suggestively. Usually. As she slipped into the black silk robe, she wondered how far the vampire would have gone to satisfy his suspicion. What troubled her most was … how far did she want him to go?

“How do I look?” She turned around slowly, stalling for time. Think, Evangeline. How are you going to get yourself out of this?

“The color suits you.” He scoffed before turning his back to her. “Black like your soulless eyes.”

“At least I have a soul.” She considered throwing something at his head, then changed her mind. No point in antagonizing him further.

“Look, lady.” She appealed to the wife. “As I’ve explained to Chris and your husband, I don’t have this medallion they’re talking about. I just want to go back to my campervan and get the hell out of this godforsaken town.”

The woman extended her hand. “Susie. My name’s Susie. Terry and I aren’t married yet. We’re making it official next month.” While still holding Evangeline’s hand, she leaned in and whispered, “You really shouldn’t call him Chris. He has a very short fuse.”

“Noted.” She answered, knowing full well she’d use the information to push his buttons. But not here. Not now, when her actions may hurt the quirky little pregnant woman or the baby growing in her belly. Despite what the vampire had said, she had a soul and a heart for that matter. Not that she’d used it for a while.

“Get dressed!” The vampire suddenly ordered. “I’m driving you back to your mobile home.”

There was no need for him to repeat his instructions. Of course, she’d comply. Gladly. The plan suited her perfectly. She’d done her research. Once inside the van, he wouldn’t be able to enter unless invited. Yeah, like that was going to happen any time soon. She threw the robe onto the settee. The humans turned their backs to give her privacy. The vampire followed every moment with his glacial eyes. Did he expect to see the medallion or was he simply enjoying the view? Hard to gauge. His expression gave no indication.

“Okay, I’m ready.” She informed the other humans. “Sorry for the inconvenience.” She motioned towards Susie’s tiny bulge. “Good luck with the kid. You won’t be seeing me again.”

Christoff grabbed her right elbow and hurried her to the door and out onto the street, but not before she heard Terry call back, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

****

“What did he mean by that?” she asked Christoff as he depressed the car door key.

“Shut up and get in.”

“Nice ride.” She slipped into the passenger seat of the steel blue Porsche and wiggled her bottom on the dark grey, leather upholstery. As she reached to touch the dashboard screen, he pushed her hand away.

“Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Hey, the same thing goes for you, asshat.” His touch had surprised her. Cold as ice, yet it stung like a burn. She rubbed the skin on her hand and stared out of the window. He drove like a real Porsche owner should. Like she would if she could ever amass a fortune. Top speed. The scenery became a blur of colors as they sped through the back roads. Towards … wait a minute. Where was he taking her? She lifted her chin and strained to see over the tops of the houses. Expensive houses. Beyond the line of roofs, she could just make out a line of azure blue water. This wasn’t the way back to the forest. Why weren’t they going back to the van?

“You’re going the wrong way.” She informed him as the pace of her erratically beating heart quickened. What was he planning to do to her? Panic set in. If only she had something heavy to throw at him. The interior of the car was immaculate. No surprise there, considering the way he dressed. If only he’d left an empty glass bottle on the floor.

“I know the way.” His attention remained focused on the road ahead. His hands firmly on the steering wheel, but somehow she knew he watched her. Watched every movement.

The car slowed and turned towards a large brick wall. Iron gates opened as if their arrival had been expected and her captor drove through the decorative entrance towards the biggest mansion she’d ever seen. Her lips parted, but words escaped her. Did Chris own this palace? Her excitement waned as they passed the house and continued up the driveway.

“Fuck no.” She sat bolt upright, staring out of the window. Her hands pressed firmly on the glass. “I don’t believe you did this. You had no right.”

There, parked beside a lovely, average-sized house, sat her campervan. An eyesore in an otherwise beautiful setting.

“I did my research. You can’t get in my home without my permission. How did you drive it here?”

“I haven’t been inside your home, I had it towed.”

“Who owns this place? Is it yours?” Maybe she could convince the owner to help her escape?

Christoff remained silent, ignoring her questions as he slipped from the car to open the passenger door.

She jumped from her seat, rushing to the cabin of her mobile home. Once safely in the driver’s seat, she grabbed her keys from inside the hole in the vinyl upholstery and tried the ignition. Nothing. Nada. Not a peep. She tried again. Same result.

He leaned against the driver’s window. She could have sworn she saw the hint of a smile on his face as he told her, “I believe you’ll find the engine in the garage of the main house.”

“You bastard!” she screamed as she threw open the door and jumped from the cabin, fists flying. He barely flinched as she rained blows to his chest. “You can’t keep me here. My … I’m expected somewhere.”

He caught her hands as she raised them for the next assault, holding them against his chest. “Then give me the medallion and I’ll arrange to have the engine replaced.”

What choice did she have? Her mother needed her. Needed the money for her next treatment. She had to find a way out of this place, fast.

“Stay!” she ordered with a pointed finger before she marched up the three steps to her home and unlocked the door. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

But, as she entered the weather-beaten home, she turned, held up her right arm, flexed her fist and slapped her bicep in an undignified salute. “You can kiss my ass, blood sucker. I’ll figure out a way to escape, and when I do, I’ll stake you where the sun don’t shine.”

She slammed the door, turned so her back rested against the fiberglass, and let her despair, and the weight of her body drag her down. When her bottom hit the floor, she cupped her face with her hands and sobbed. “What now?”