Her Billionaire, Her Wolf(52)
“That’s how they say it, don’t they? Among cops and robbers.”
She tried to rally her courage and replied, “Maybe...about fifty years ago, mostly in old movies. But, I suppose that doesn’t sound so long ago to someone like you.”
His tone turned grave as he answered, “No, not too long for someone like me. You are right about that.”
He walked toward her and Sara did her best not to shrink back from him.
“In any case, I wish you no ill, Sara. I am merely a...how shall I put it? A facilitator.
“Yes, that’s it. I am here to facilitate. And for exactly what reason might I facilitate, you wonder?
“If you did...and I assume that you do...I would tell you that I am here to see it that you leave this awful place and these desperately boring policemen and their incessant forms-to-be-filled-out-in-duplicate long behind. I mean, really...who uses carbon paper these days?”
He leaned close, looking her over, and despite herself Sara felt the pull of his dark eyes.
“Only he didn’t tell me just what a delectable creature you really are....”
Dark pools swept toward her and, instinctively, Sara fought against it. She cleared her throat and croaked, “What do you mean? Aren’t you the Journeyman?”
He laughed then and she felt the pressure of his gaze ease some.
“No, of course not. I mean, really...have you seen him? Have you seen me?”
Pale hands smoothed his suit jacket’s lapels.
“I suppose he must have wiped his image from your mind but there is no resemblance, I assure you, Sara. On the other hand, he is our mutual employer...his term, not mine...and it is on his behalf that I am here.”
Sara shuddered. The nightmare of the Journeyman threatened to come back and swallow her whole. Thoughts of the creaking, limping way the thing had moved before rushing toward her with dark emptiness where it’s face should have been made her feel ill.
She could not stop the gooseflesh rippling down her arms.
“I know,” he said, “His appearance does leave much to be desired, but who are we to judge, Sara?”
He stood straight then, looming over her, and said in answer to himself, “Not me...not you.”
A cold hand reached down to tip her face up to look at him. Like twinned black tarns, his eyes were placid things calling to her to let the calm in. To let needless worry simply float away.
It felt to her as though she slid into bathwater that was at a perfect temperature. Not too warm, not too cold...but, just exactly right.
Like slipping on warm socks on a cold winter’s day. Like breathing clean air after stepping free of a jostling crowd.
His eyes held her and even if she told herself that she was succumbing to a vampire’s spell, Sara could not fight it. What was more, she was no longer sure she did not want to. Anything was better than being left to rot in jail waiting for help that never came.
The tall man released her chin and nodded as Sara’s head remained fixed in the same position. An observer would have remarked that she had exactly the same look of a mind gone out to lunch, the same vacant stare as the policeman still standing and staring at the wall as if he saw all life’s answers written there.
“That’s better. Everyone at ease, just the way I like it,” he said as he turned toward the policeman.
“You know, Sara,” he said over his shoulder to the woman who did not move, “I haven’t broken my fast yet. I was told not to and now I see the why of it. I mean, how perfectly astounding it will be for this nest of bureaucratic drones when they discover their fellow officer here in your cell. You gone, him here.”
He chuckled, then said, “You have to admit there is a certain sense of symmetry in that which is, for lack of a better word, genius. But that’s the Journeyman for you...a true craftsman at work.”
The tall man gently turned the policeman named Chet Branson away from the wall, then stroked his full cheek.
“Time to go see Rosie, Officer,” he said as he leaned down to the neck that bulged over the man’s shirt collar.
“Let’s bleed you like a pig...yes?”
The dark waters of the blood drinker’s glamour sucked Sara down hard. In her mind, she struggled against it, until at last her consciousness bobbed to the surface while her body continued to refuse her commands.
She could do nothing but watch from the corner of her eye as the monster held the policeman in a demon’s grip that did not break for a long moment. When at last, he lifted his head from the man’s neck, she watched as his head lolled to the side, his eyes not just turned up but sunken and drawn back in their sockets.
“Goodness...but I was hungrier than I realized,” the vampire said as he lowered the policeman to the ground.