Crimson Kiss(4)

best to make amends. Now for your penance, don't feed for one fortnight. Spend

the time keeping the Perpetual Adoration and meditating upon your sins."

Meghann felt absolved—after all, Alcuin had been a bishop before he'd been

transformed.

Alcuin smiled when he saw the relief on Meghann's face. "Now, banrion, let's

talk of more pleasant matters. You received your doctorate?"

Meghann smiled back, linking her arm through Alcuin's as they walked back

toward her car. "Oh, yes—and I see patients now… mostly abused partners

referred to me by the university counseling center." Meghann was a psychologist.

"How wonderful—and what a gorgeous car." Alcuin admired the black paint,

and patted the rocket fins that had been embossed with flames. "I believe car

making became an art form in the fifties and sixties."

Meghann put the top down—the cold wouldn't bother her and Alcuin the way

it would mortals. "I don't think you came to America to congratulate me on my

degree or my car."

Alcuin nodded. "Would you mind if I drove, Meghann? I have some very

unpleasant news."

"I didn't know you knew how to drive."

"It would be a bit ridiculous to live seven hundred years and refuse to keep up

with modern innovations."

Meghann handed him the keys, and got in on the passenger side. "What

happened? Is it Charles?" Charles Tarleton was one of Alcuin's other apprentices,

and the vampire who'd introduced Meghann to Alcuin's circle.

"Charles is fine," Alcuin told her as he started driving. "But, Meghann … I

don't know how to tell you this without upsetting you. Just listen calmly and

remember… You've become a very strong vampire in the past thirty years and

you'll never be without my protection."

Meghann's heart started beating rapidly. "Why would I need your protection?"

she demanded.

Alcuin busied himself with watching the traffic, avoiding Meghann's eyes. "I

have evidence that Simon Baldevar is alive."

"No!" Meghann screamed immediately. "He can't be… Alcuin, I killed him

over forty years ago!"

When they arrived at Meghann's house, Alcuin shut off the engine and took

one of her ice-cold hands. "Meghann, you know you were never completely sure

that you killed him."

Meghann simply could not believe this—she could not feel secure in the world

if she thought Simon was still alive. He would kill her … No, wait. He would

torture her horribly and then he'd kill her.

Meghann racked her brain for any rationalization to refute Alcuin's statement.

"But," she said wildly, "forty years have gone by. Why would he suddenly

resurface?

Why would he go underground for all that time? It's not like him."

" Banrion, I never told you this because there was no point upsetting you, but

Simon has disappeared before… The last time was for seventy years. He spends

the time developing his strength."

Wonderful, she thought grimly.

She looked up at Alcuin. "What proof do you have that he might be alive?"

"Photographs—I'll show them to you inside."

Meghann nodded. "I want Jimmy to see them too." Jimmy Delacroix was a

mortal Meghann had trained to hunt renegade vampires who refused to live by

Alcuin's dictate that vampires not murder or torture the mortals they drank from.

"Of course."



When they entered the living room, Jimmy's eyes widened in disgust and fear at

the sight of Alcuin, whom he had never seen before.

Damn, Meghann thought. She'd been so rattled by Alcuin's news that she

completely forgot how shocked poor Jimmy would be when he saw Alcuin. Her

mentor might be one of the wisest vampires alive but was also hideously

deformed. A vampire of a different bloodline from Meghann's had transformed

him. As a result, he had no hair or eyebrows and had viciously long fangs that

curved past his jawbone and were permanent fixtures (unlike Meghann's, which

retracted when she wasn't feeding). His skin was translucent, and all his veins

stuck out prominently.

Meghann knew Alcuin understood Jimmy's shock and rage when he looked at

him. Eight years ago, a vampire of Alcuin's type had murdered Jimmy's wife and

three-year-old son.

"Jimmy," she said softly, "it's all right. This is Alcuin. I told you about him."

Jimmy pulled himself back from the horrifying memories, plastering a bitter grin

on his face. "Sure," he slurred, swigging from a half-empty decanter of bourbon

he plucked from the coffee table. "How are you doing, handsome?"

Of all the nights to drink, did Jimmy have to pick the time Alcuin visited?

Meghann decided to give him time to pull himself together.