"So…" She managed to moisten her lips. He was close, and staring at her with such sensual interest—and amusement. She thought he was like a cat, playing with a mouse. He could end it with her whenever he chose.
Yet, if he'd wanted to kill her right away, he'd have done so already.
There was probably so much that he could do to her before she died!
"So, Grant is a reincarnation of Conan de Burgh. You are François de Venue. Reggie is Valeria…
where do I fit in?"
"You still don't know?"
"Forgive me for being so slow," she murmured sarcastically.
"There was a daughter," he said.
"A daughter?"
"And her daughter had a daughter, and her daughter had a daughter, and… well, you surely understand my direction."
"I'm… Valeria's descendent?" she asked.
"There—you are speeding up. You see, when I first came upon Valeria, she knew she must obey me, or else… despite the life she has led, she did not want to be cursed as a vampire. She did not want it for her daughter. So, you see, she did as I commanded. Because I swore that the child would not be touched. I am a powerful creature, you know. Even without her at my side."
"If that's so… why are you threatening me now? You still have Valeria. She tricked me, and I came here. Why? Did you think Grant would follow me? That's a real irony—he came here on his own."
"Yes, I know. We could say that you're insurance. But then, that wouldn't be true."
"Why am I here?"
"This time, he will have to make a choice again."
"And that will be?"
"His life for yours."
Grant had just grabbed Reggie by the arm and dragged her into the entry when Lucien came through the front door.
"This is Reggie," Grant said raggedly. "I have to find out what she knows—and get to the site. Jade has said that she's Valeria. Is that true?"
"So, Valeria, you are here," Lucien said softly. "We do need to talk, don't we?"
"We can't talk long," Grant said. "I have to go now. I have to get to Stephanie."
"You have to wait," Lucien said firmly.
"I can't wait long," Grant said, then fell silent, staring in amazement. In Lucien's wake, Drew, soaked to the bone, walked in. And behind him, Suzette and Lena. They were both naked, and their eyes were like saucers. They seemed to be entirely unaware of their state of undress, or anything else, for that matter.
"What the hell?" Grant said, looking at Lucien.
"They're tainted, under the power of François," he said.
Something tightened in Grant's gut. "Then… do we… cut their heads off?" He didn't know what was really going on here, what was in the mind, what was real. The concept of murder, however, was a terrible one to him. Somewhere, it all had to end.
It was going to end with him in an Italian prison, he was afraid, or facing execution under Italian law.
Not even that mattered now. Stephanie mattered now.
"They don't need to die—I don't think," Lucien said. He glanced past Grant to his wife. "Jade?"
"I'm on it," she murmured, heading up the stairs.
Grant turned back to Reggie. Lucien and Drew were staring at her as well. "So, you're—Reggie?" Drew said.
"Yes, how do you do."
"Great. Thanks for the job here. I think," Drew said awkwardly. He seemed in a real state of hell, and surely thought himself in the worst nightmare. The girls, naked and dazed as zombies, were there, dripping on the carpet. Reggie wasn't noticing them, and both Grant and Lucien seemed to be taking the moment in stride.
"You lured Stephanie here. On purpose," Grant accused her.
"That's a lie!" Reggie protested. "I wanted to open the theater here. It all came about before the wretched dig that set François free. Don't be idiots, either of you. I came here, I tried to get Stephanie to come to me. I—I even used François. If I could have spoken to her and to him at the same time, well, I… I believe I could have gotten her out of here!"
"François is…" Drew asked.
"Giovanni," Reggie said absently.
"The baggage boy!" Drew said, astounded.
"Have you known who I am?" Lucien asked her.
"Recently, yes, but only recently. I could feel that one of your particular breed was here… and I'd heard of you, throughout the centuries, of course… but you have your own strength, don't you?" she asked.
Jade came back down the stairs. She seemed to be carrying handfuls of silver bracelets. Grant was baffled, wondering what good they were going to do.
Tension ripped through him with a jolt of deep agony. He was standing around here, watching this ridiculous Q and A, while Stephanie…
A cold sweat broke out on his hands.
"I have to get there!" he repeated vehemently, turning to Lucien.
Lucien placed a hand on his arm. "No. The time isn't right yet. I know it's hard. You must wait, you must listen to me, and we must play by the rules."
"The rules?" Grant demanded.
Lucien looked at Reggie. "Yes, the rules of destiny," he murmured.
"I can't wait for the rules," Grant said, fighting down the frantic need for action that was tearing at him, muscle and gut.
"It's the only way to win. The only way to get her back alive," Lucien said.
Jade stepped up to the girls. As Grant watched, she began to wind the silver bracelets around Suzette's wrists, and then Lena's.
"Blessed silver," Lucien informed Grant.
Reggie stepped away from them both. She stared at Lucien. "All right, yes, obviously, I knew when François awoke. But this was all already under way. At first… at first he said he would spare the populace here, if I would just bring Conan back. I had already arranged for Stephanie to come because… because she needed a job! You don't understand, either. I couldn't just leave her in the United States. He would have found her. Without me there to protect her. She had no intention of telling Grant… but it didn't matter. He'd already felt the draw. It had to happen; he had to come here. So… I'm not evil! François lied to me, and used me… and all he wanted was Stephanie. I can help you, don't you understand? I know him, I know what he's doing!"
"So do I," Lucien said softly. He turned to Grant. "You have to beat him again. And this time, you have to destroy him. Yourself."
By that time, Jade had led Suzette and Lena to the sofa, and seated them. "They really need… clothing,"
she murmured.
"Well, get some blankets. Jade, don't forget their ankles. And make sure you have them down with crosses on their chests. I don't want to have to kill them. God knows how many he will have in his little army he's been tainting when we get there, so they must be secured here." He paused, staring hard at Drew and Grant. "You will have to be careful of everyone. Some will be with us. Some will pretend to be with us—and turn on us. When we ride to battle."
"We're riding to battle?" Drew said, his voice weak.
"And Valeria," he said, looking at her.
Reggie had always been a beautiful woman, Grant thought. And she was never more so than now, standing at her full height, her chin high. A strand of dark hair fell over one eye, her lips trembled. Her near-violet gaze was steady. "I'm trying to help you!" she told him passionately.
She ran to Grant suddenly, seizing his arm. "You know how long I have been dear to Stephanie! Yes, I have been caught up in this, but only because… Grant, I am so sorry! But I thought that if François could just… well, if he could kill you, then his hatreds would be at an end. He would learn the simple survival that can be for us, without bloodshed and harm to others."
She was so sincere! As he looked at her, Grant found himself believing her.
"Ah, but, Valeria!" Lucien said softly. "You've been shielding François from me. It's your powers of protection that have blinded me for so long."
"I didn't know who you were!" she swore, turning from Grant to Lucien, then back to Grant. "Please, you may not be able to save her without me!"
Grant looked at Lucien. "Is that true?"
Lucien was steady, but shrugged. "She is a sorceress of the oldest variety. She can protect them, or she can protect us."
"Which will she do?" Drew interjected.
"I don't know," Lucien admitted.
Grant shook off Reggie's—or Valeria's—touch. "We have to find them. Now. I feel it. Darkness has fallen, and the moon will be rising."
"The full moon," Lucien murmured. "Yes, it's time. Valeria, wear a cross, if you would ride with us."
She balked. "Wait… I haven't spent all these centuries being an angel."
There was a sudden banging at the door. Even Lucien seemed startled, but then he strode to it.
Grant followed quickly behind him.
And when they opened the door, he was amazed.
He felt as if he had walked into an old Hammer film, and Vincent Price or Bela Lugosi would appear at any minute.
Beyond the cottage door, night had fallen. But it was illuminated. There were dozens… maybe a hundred people out there. Some were carrying torches. Some were armed with pitchforks, some with kitchen knives… some with medieval weapons, apparently looted from a museum.
It wasn't Bela Lugosi or Vincent Price at the head of the crowd.
It was the old man. Adalio. Slim and fragile, yet he carried a heavy battle ax.
"It's time!" he announced loudly and clearly, his English accented but sure.
Grant looked behind him. There were a number of people on horseback. He recognized some of them.
Both policemen were there, Merc and Franco. There were a number of waiters from the clubs, and from the local restaurants. There were hospital employees, shopkeepers, and local farmers.
