Chapter Six

 

Evangeline yawned and stretched out her arms above her head. “I feel like I’ve slept for a week. What time is it?”

“It’s after 4:00 PM.”

“You’re shitting me. I rarely nap in the afternoon.” Her left eye winked suggestively. “You must have worn me out.” She ran her fingers through the masses of unruly curls and yawned again. “Who was that on the phone?”

“Nothing to worry about, go back to sleep.” He reached down to tuck her in, but she stopped him with a slap to his hand.

“You’ve always been brutally honest with me. Don’t start lying to me now.”

He plonked down onto the bed beside her. “That was Palmer. While you slept, he swept your home for fingerprints.”

She sat up in bed, a hopeful expression on her face. “Do they have any leads?”

He shook his head, wondering how much he should tell her.

“Whoever broke in wore gloves.” That was the truth. Omitting to tell her that Anna had a vision wasn’t exactly a lie. Or was it?

Her downcast expression troubled him. If that news upset her, how could he tell her about the earlier phone conversation?

“What is it you’re not telling me?” Her voice rose in pitch. “Is it about the scroll? Have you changed your mind about loaning me the money?”

“The money would have been a gift, not a loan.” A heaviness weighed down on his chest. A sensation he had long forgotten. It pained him to know the grief his words would cause her.

“Would have? You’re not going to give me the money?” she sat up in the bed, her breasts heaving under the thin fabric of the shirt he’d earlier discarded to the floor. “Look, Chris. I’m sorry that I didn’t hide the scroll well enough to fool the thieves. Please, I need that money. My mother –”

“The money will not help your mother now.”

Her beautiful dark eyes widened, and she continued to shake her head while he told her what he feared would break her heart.

“I called the hospice earlier to make the necessary arrangements for your mother’s care. They’d been trying to call you.”

“No.” she sobbed, holding her hands over her ears. “I won’t listen to this. I don’t want to hear this.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “She’s getting better. We’re going to find a cure.”

He leaned towards her and she collapsed into his arms. Her tears soaked his shirt as he held her tight to his chest. “The doctor said she died peacefully in her sleep.”

“I don’t believe you.” Her wails reverberated through his chest cavity. “They wouldn’t give you that information.”

“I told them I was your husband.” He felt her body stiffen in his arms. “There was nothing to be done for her.” He’d already called every blood specialist in the world. Evangeline’s doctor had emailed him the case files. No one had seen anything like her disease. No amount of money would have changed that.

He lifted her chin with his index finger, so he could be sure she heard his words. “There is no easy way to tell you this, min dyrebare. Your mother’s blood had been tainted with demon blood.”

“Demon blood?” Lines creased her forehead as she wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “How would she have Demon blood in her veins and, why do you keep calling me a bear? Don’t you think that’s a shitty thing to say considering what you just told me? Don’t you even have a heart?” Her cheeks flushed with color and despite her snarl, she sniffed back a sob.

Try as he might, he couldn’t contain his smile. “I would sooner cut out my tongue than call you anything derogative. The English translation for min dyrebare, is my precious. You have made me your Gollum. I cannot part with you, no matter what it costs me.”

Her back stiffened. “How the fuck do you expect me to respond to that?”

Her words surprised him. Was she not happy to hear that he loved her?

“I don’t understand your anger. Is it because you are grieving for your mother?” That must be it. He’d confessed his love too soon.

She scooted out of bed, shaking her head. “You tell me I’m precious and insult me in the same breath. I’ve seen the movie, I know that the ring is evil and must be destroyed. Where do you get off saying that you can’t part with me, no matter what it costs you? Who says I want to be with you anyway?”

The color in her cheeks deepened to a shade of mulberry and her body began to shake violently as she stood by the bed. He expected her to rant or, at the very least, use her power to throw something at him. When she opened her mouth to speak, he braced himself for a verbal attack. Her actions took him by surprise.

A high-pitched scream tore from her lips as her face twisted into a mask of pain. She fell to the floor, convulsing. Heat radiated from her skin, blisters formed on her flesh. The borrowed shirt, now saturated in sweat, clung to her body. Wide eyes stared up at him, begging him to do something to stop the pain. He reached down and, ignoring the heat that scorched his own body, carried her to the bathtub. Gently, he lay her down, supporting her head as he turned the cold water to full capacity. Steam rose from her body. The water bubbled as the heat from her skin brought it to a boil. Her scream warned him to remove her from the bath, so he carried her back to the bed, desperately trying to think of another plan.

Rushing to the refrigerator, he poured ice cubes into a clean, wet tea towel and returned to place it on her skin. Within seconds, the ice melted, and the cloth became hot to touch. Helplessly, he sat on the edge of the bed and watched as her lips first became parched then began to crack and swell. The whites of her eyes deepened to pale pink and, when the irises rolled back, his heart physically ached.

“Hold on, my love. Fight this. Don’t leave me.”

She closed her eyes for a few minutes and, when she opened them, the tinge of blood had begun to fade. Her breathing steadied and she rewarded him with a weak smile.

“I think. Its. Going. Away,” she sighed as her body relaxed.

He took her hand and kissed it. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

“Me, too.” She struggled to a sitting position as he placed pillows behind her shoulders. “I guess what they say about ‘only the good die young’ must be right.”

“This is no laughing matter.” He warned. “Something was trying to kill you.”

“No.” She looked down at her lap. “Something was trying to contact me.”

“Surely not your mother?” From what Evangeline had told him, her mother would never inflict such harm on her only child. Or could she? He’d been undead, so long. Were humans really that heartless?

Evangeline shook her head. “I don’t know how to explain it. I felt power. Real power.” She raised her head to look at him. “I saw the medallion and … it spoke to me.”

“I blame myself.” Christoff let out a sigh as he stroked a damp curl from her face. “I should have forced you to give me the medallion before we went to dinner.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “If I’d had my way, I would have tricked you out of it anyway. If you remember, I took the scroll hoping to convince you to pay more.”

“It would have worked.” He pinched her chin between his thumb and index finger, pulling her face in for a kiss. “You’ve put a spell on me, my precious.”

She caught his bottom lip in her teeth and tugged. “Back at ya, Gollum. But why would the medallion want me?”

In his heart, he already knew the answer, but he hoped to be wrong. “Describe the medallion to me. I want to know every detail.”

Her forehead creased. “I don’t understand. Haven’t you seen the medallion?”

“I felt its presence.” He rose from the bed and turned his back to her. “I sensed the evil connected to it and wished to destroy it before—”

“Before some idiot unleashed its power.”

“What’s done is done.” He turned back. “Now, if you please, describe it to me.”

She closed her eyes, tilting her chin up as her mouth twisted at the side. “Okay. Well, the first thing I noticed about it was the heat it gave off.” Her jaw clenched as she opened her eyes. “I should have taken that as a warning, right?” she shook her head. “All I could see was dollar signs. I needed the money so badly. I didn’t think—”

He sat beside her and held her shoulders. “That heat you felt was the power. You were already under its enchantment, but I need you to concentrate. Tell me everything you remember.”

With a nod, she continued. “I remember a wolf with bared teeth. Not the pretty type you normally see in tattoos and paintings, this one looked angry, as if he wanted to bite your face off. There was a design … no, two different designs around him.” She looked up at him. “I thought this was a bit strange because one was like a snake without a head or a tail, while the other was geometrical. They didn’t match.”

Bile churned in the pit of his stomach. “The geometric design. Could it have been a letter? Perhaps the initial W?”

“Yes, maybe. Either W or M. I remember thinking that it looked like an optical illusion.”

“And the wolf, was it inside a circle?”

She scratched her head and her lips moved wordlessly as she seemed to count. “Yes, three circles. Two surrounding the patterns. One around the top of the head, like a halo.”

“Not a halo, a moon.” There was no longer any doubt. Lupescu was back.

“You’ve seen it? I thought you said—”

“I’ve seen the design, not the medallion.” His hands dropped from her shoulders and hung limp by his sides. “What you said earlier about not looking like a regular tattoo. That’s because its worn by cult members who would kill you in a heartbeat if their leader instructed them. You’ve heard of Charles Manson?”

She nodded, the color draining from her cheeks. “Was he their leader?”

“This man would make Manson and his followers look like amateurs.” And now he was back and worse still, trying to contact Evangeline. “I’ve killed him once, but now that Lupescu is stronger, I’m … what’s the matter?”

****

“You’re shitting me.” Evangeline could literally feel the color drain from her cheeks. Moments ago, they’d burned with heat and now … now they felt as cold as ice. “You’re saying that the monster who’s messing with my head is Lupescu? Mánagarmr Lupescu?”

Christoff’s expression was enough to convince her that he wasn’t kidding.

“You know who he is?”

Her heart slammed against her chest, robbing her of breath. She held out her palm, hoping for time to regain her breath before answering.

“He’s … my father.” She held her palms to her temples as the pounding rose from her chest to her head. Had her father disappeared because he wanted to leave or because Christoff killed him? How different would she have been if she hadn’t been forced into a life of crime? She stared into the face of her father’s killer and tried to hate him, but it was no use. She knew in her heart, he’d probably done what needed to be done.

“Lupescu was no longer a man when I executed him. He’d made a pact with a demon in exchange for supernatural abilities, but the demon’s blood proved too powerful, even for a mage as strong as your father. It consumed him. Poisoned his mind.” He reached for her and held her by her forearms. “This won’t be easy for you to hear.”

She laughed an uneasy giggle. Easy? In one morning she’d lost a mother and gained a monster for a father. Her body had been tortured, almost to death. What else could he say to hurt her? Except…

“Oh, god. You’re saying that I’m a combination of demon and mage?”

“There is more.” He looked down at his feet and she knew instantly what his next words would be.

There was no way she could hear those words from someone else, especially him. She reached her hand to grab hold of the edge of the bed as the strength left her body. “I poisoned my mother?”

He ran his fingers through his hair and she realized by his expression that he was trying to find a kind way to continue. The notion surprised her. Maybe he really did care for her, after all? Hopefully, he’d get over it.

“Don’t hold back now, Chris.” She swung her legs over the side of the thick mattress and planted her feet firmly on the plush carpet. “Just say it. Dad’s demon sperm produced me and as I grew in her belly, my diseased blood slowly began to kill her.”

His shoulders drooped, but he said nothing.

“You can’t lie, can you?” She could feel the corners of her mouth curl into a bitter smile as she forced down the sob that caught in her throat. “I have to go.”

He snagged her wrist as she tried to rush past. “Wait. We should discuss this.”

“I’m not ready to talk about it.” With a tug, she pulled free of his grip, but he followed her to the door.

“Stay. In a couple of hours, it will be dark. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

“I. Said. No.” She spun on her heel and thrust out her palm, sending him sailing back into the bedroom. He raised himself to a sitting position against the wall, but made no attempt to stand. His wounded expression broke her heart.

As she slammed the door behind her, she hoped that he would forgive her for what she had done and, also, what she was about to do.

****

Heads turned as she marched up to the bar, plonked her barely covered butt on the stool and ordered a Jack and Coke. Hours earlier, she’d been naked in Christoff’s bed, but somehow, she felt more exposed, more vulnerable, in the tiny shorts and low-cut shirt she’d deliberately chosen to wear. If her plan worked, she’d be contacted by her father’s followers. If not, at the very least, she hoped she could con someone into shouting a few drinks. The twenty dollars she’d stashed away in a cookie jar would not be enough to drown the pain. Goddamned minions. If only they’d taken the medallion and left the money in the safe.

“You look lonely.”

The middle-aged man’s breath stank of stale beer. He sat on the stool beside her. “Buy you a drink, honey.”

“Sure, why not?” she forced a smile and motioned to the bartender for another Jack and Coke while pretending not to notice the attention her breasts were getting from her drinking companion. She raised her glass. “Bottoms up.”

“Your choice, darlin.” He ran a dirty, calloused palm up her thigh, sending a shudder through her body.

She pushed the hand away and shook her head. “It wasn’t an offer.”

“But I bought you a drink?”

He genuinely looked surprised by her response. Did he really think that she would put out for the price of one drink? Is that the way everyone saw her? She downed the whiskey in one gulp, ignoring the mutterings of the man as he shuffled away, then ordered a straight Jack. No point watering it down. Time to get well and truly drunk.

“My friend here says you owe him something.”

Blazing eyes stared down at her. This man appeared to be younger than the other. Maybe thirty something? His t-shirt strained over his broad chest and shoulders as he puffed out his pecs.

“Go away.” She shooed him with a flick of her wrist as she turned her attention back to her fourth drink of the evening. “I’m busy.”

He slapped the drink from her hand, the glass shattered on the counter and the noisy room suddenly became silent. Adrenaline jump-started her nerves. Her body, although feeling the effects of the alcohol, prepared for an attack.

“Outside, bitch. I’m gonna show you what happens to cock teasers in my town.” He grabbed his crotch. “And then, I think I’ll let you suck my dick.”

“Pass.” She tilted her head in the direction of the older guy. “I wouldn’t put my mouth where your boyfriend has been.”

The backhand took her by surprise, knocking her off the stool. She looked around the room, losing any hope for support as the bar cleared of everyone, except her attacker and two of his companions. Holding her jaw, she scooted along on her bottom until her back hit the wall. Two of the men lifted her to her feet and held her under the arms as the bully tugged at the knot holding the ends of her shirt tied provocatively under her breasts. She’d been warned this day would come, but why today? Hadn’t she suffered enough?

Something inside her stirred, urging her to fight. No. Not fight, kill. Breathing in short, strong bursts, she felt her body temperature rise, her heartbeat gain momentum, every muscle in her body swell and tighten. By the time the thug had loosened the knot and opened her shirt to expose her bra, she’d turned the fear to rage. When he looked up triumphantly, the stupid smile on his face soon dissolved.

“What the fuck!”

“What is it?” The man to her right loosened his grip on her arm and she took the opportunity to rip it from his grasp and wrap her fingers around the throat of her attacker, lifting him off the ground.

When the others tried to assist, she sent them flying, using the power of her mind. They hit the ground running, leaving their comrade behind.

“Your eyes.” He gasped as she tightened her grip, her fingernails digging into his flesh.

She turned her head to face the mirrored backsplash behind the bar. It took a few seconds for her mind to register that the purple eyes staring back at her were her own.

“Please.”

“What did you say?”

The man dangling at the end of her outstretched arm gasped. His eyes bulged. Blood vessels burst, staining the whites of his eyes with forked red lines. Thick veins protruded on his forehead and temples and she could feel his pulse slow beneath her finger and thumb as she simultaneously pressed down on both his carotid arteries. Power surged through her veins and she liked everything about it. The strength, the electricity, the control. This low-life and his friends had planned to gang rape her. Now look at him, pissing his pants with fear as she choked the life out of him. How easy would it be to snap his neck? She’d be doing the town a favor.

“This isn’t you.”

“You don’t know me.” She told him without turning around. “You don’t know what this bastard was going to do to me.”

“I’m sure that, one day, he’ll get what he deserves, but not today. Not at your hand.”

In the blink of an eye, he was by her side. His hands at her wrist, gently tugging at her fingers. “If you do this, there’s no coming back.”

“I don’t care.” Tears burned behind her eyes. “I’m numb, Chris. I need to feel something, anything.” She turned her head to face him, her cheeks damp with tears. “I can’t live with the knowledge my mother died because of me.”

“This isn’t the way.” His breath feathered against her neck and she felt her resolve melt away.

The man dropped to the floor, landing in the pool of urine his fear had created. Evangeline slumped into Christoff’s arms. He scooped her up and carried her to the door as she peeked over his shoulder.

“Is he?”

“No.”

“Good.” She said aloud, but the voice in her head roared. You should have finished him. He deserved to die. With her head resting on Christoff’s muscled shoulder, she closed her eyes and tried to force the murderous thoughts from her mind. No use. Instead, she redirected her rage to where it belonged. To the monster who’d caused her the most pain. Oh, she’d have her revenge. She’d make him pay for what he’d done to her, and her mother. This was going to be a father/daughter reunion to remember, except, he wouldn’t live to regret it.