Shadow Image Part 20

It was Shelby's turn to be silent. Was there any future at all for two beings whose opposite natures seemed predestined to bring ruin to each other? Her mind cast around for something positive in what he had said. Change.She reached out and stroked his arm, feeling his hard muscles. "But, sometimes change is necessary. It doesn't always mean destruction and chaos. Maybe our meeting was meant to force us to face our fears ... to force decisions on how we want to be- with ourselves and in relation to one another."

"I've spent most of my existence avoiding just such a thing, but perhaps you're right. It was time to change."

But his voice carried no hope, no joy. She took a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any to get specific. "You said before that you were leaving."

He lay on his back, one hand across his abdomen and the other behind his head. His long hair spilled over the bedding like another cover, and his gaze appeared focused on an invisible spot on the ceiling. She wanted to wrap herself in that glorious mane, wanted to press the length of her body to his, but her statement hung between them.

"I have no choice. I no longer have any authority here. If I stay, it will mean certain war between myself and all the others, with the human population caught in the middle."

Still he made no mention of wanting to take her with him. Her throat tightened, but she forced her questions out. "If you leave, will I be safe? Will they leave me alone?"

He shook his head, though his gaze never wavered from its focal point on the ceiling. "No. You're more of a danger to them now than ever. You know who and what they are. It would be far too easy for them to just make you disappear."

She tried to swallow, but the constriction in her throat made swallowing just as hard as talking. It was just as well. She had no idea what to say. She thought about giving up her life here. What did she really have? Now that Uncle Barry was gone, she had no family here, and certainly no close friends. But she had a career she loved, and if she sometimes lacked the respect of her peers, it was a job she had worked very, very hard to get. Still, she had started over before. She could do it. But to do it alone again?

What good was all the change if she didn't have Ric? "So..." She cleared her throat and tried again. "You would advise me to resign my job and move?"

Finally he turned toward her and propped himself up on one elbow. "Forget this place and move as far away from here as you can."

"I don't want to lose you." The six words were all she could get out.

Ric's amber eyes stared at her, unblinking. They were such strange eyes, more animal than human. The beast in them should have made the primate in her shiver in fear, but all she saw was their exotic beauty.

"You haven't had a chance to experience-to truly know-what I am. I'm nothing but a shadow image of a mortal man. What is natural and right for me is what is destructive in your world. You've only seen the face I present to the human world-that of the good doctor-but if you knew all the things I'm capable of, you'd fear me. For instance, when you looked into my eyes just now I could feel your thoughts. Your desire for me is strong, and desire in a human is like a telephone wire. You were thinking I remind you of a wild beast in a zoo, but one you don't need bars to get close to."

She could feel the skin of her face flame with heat. It was indeed very close to what she had been thinking. "I don't think of you as an animal."

"You should. Does it not frighten you that I can feel what's in your mind?"

"Fear. Maybe that's what I need. I've buried my fears for so long. I thought I needed to in order to stay strong, but maybe I can learn from my fears."

He smiled and turned on his back again, drawing her to his side. "I saved your life. You feel grat.i.tude. And you're tired. Tomorrow your cynical, practical self will return, and you'll realize there are easier ways of getting in touch with yourself than sleeping with a monster."* * * *

Ric woke suddenly, unsure at first what it was that had touched his senses. He heard it again. It was his own name, carried softly by the night. He looked at Shelby. She faced away from him, still wearing the top and pants, but her back was bowed and pressed against his side. He bent forward and put his mouth against her ear.

"Shelby."

"Umm." She brushed at the side of her head, as if something was tickling her, and he caught her wrist.

"Shelby, get up. Someone's outside."

She twisted toward him, her eyes open and searching the darkness. "Now what? I thought it was over."

How he wished anything could be that simple. "No, but I didn't think it would start up again this soon."

She huffed. "That what would start? The war you were talking about?"

He nodded. "It's Tux. I don't know how many more are with him. Shelby, I can't confront Tux and watch over you at the same time."

She stared at him, her eyes round and gleaming in the moonlight filtering through the curtained windows. The fears that she seemed so happy to embrace only a couple hours before filled her eyes and overflowed across her face. Fear was as easy to read as desire. He knew she was worried about him even before she answered him. "Go. Do what you have to do."

"I'll have to kill him."

"As I said..."

"Stay in the house. Do you have any silver knives?"

She looked away and knotted her brows. "There might be some packed away with my set of silver flatwear."

"Go look for one. If anyone comes toward you, aim for the heart and call out. I'll hear you."

She hesitated. "Aren't I safe inside? I thought vampires couldn't cross a threshold unless invited."

He would have smiled at her naivete had the situation been less urgent. "Vampire lore, probably tied to the notion that the devil couldn't go where he wasn't welcome. A threshold might stop a very young vampire, but not one with any age and power. Hurry now."

He started to slide from the bed, but she caught his arm. "Ric. Make sure you come back. I don't want to lose you."

He pulled her to him and kissed her on the mouth. He took his time, refusing to let the situation rush him. Tuxbridge could wait.

He heard his name being called again, and he couldn't help smiling. It broke the kiss.

"What's so funny?" Shelby whispered as she stroked a finger down his face.

"Our guest doesn't appreciate being left waiting."

"Then he shouldn't have come."

He touched the corner of her mouth with the pad of his thumb. "I'll tell him so. In the meantime do as I said." Still wearing his sweatpants, Ric quickly pulled his shoes on and left the house by the rear patio doors. Tux was standing across the yard at the edge of the tree line. It was the time of the night that Ric didn't like-the hours just before dawn when the moon had set, the air was damp, and dew covered everything with a cold, wet film.

"Already violating your sanction, Tux? I'm sure Revelin Scott told you to stay away from me."

Tux laughed. "His sanctions don't mean anything to me. Dear, departed Alek Dragovich could have sanctioned me, and I wouldn't care. I also don't care if you know the truth about me now, because it no longer matters. Either I'll die the True Death, or you will."

"I'm listening. This is about your brother." Ric knew Tux was as willing to die to avenge his brother, as Ric was willing to do the same for Shelby.

"You're French. Have you ever heard of la societe du feu follet?"

"No."

"I thought not. We've guarded our secrets carefully. The society originated in France and came to America with the fur traders and adventurers. The legends have spread from the bayou to the north woods, but it was the children's version that I told you before.

There used to be many of us in Michigan, but with Joel gone, I'm the last." Tux spread his arms wide, as if he deserved a curtain call and spotlight.

Ric remained silent. He had never heard of the society that Tux referred to, but that didn't surprise him. The Undead were by nature isolated creatures, distrusting and disagreeable. They were as deceitful with their own kind as with humans, and yet Ric knew that vampires loved nothing better than to form their little cloak-and-dagger alliances and secret societies. They weren't formed for friendship, but to establish dominance. Those with power well tested in private advanced and survived. If they were lucky, those failing to establish dominance found a master to serve or apprentice with. The weakest, and those unable or unwilling to spend eternity in servitude, perished. In their own way, the Undead of Cristallia County had recognized strength in Tux and had gravitated to him. It was no wonder they had aligned themselves with Tux over him.

"Tell me more about this society." The longer Ric could keep him talking, the more time Shelby had to prepare, and the longer he had to plan.

"There are no lanterns, no torches, no flashlights. Didn't you even wonder what my brother used to lure the sheriff into the woods?

He used himself. The feu, the fire, was within him, as it is within me. It was our gift in crossing. When you humiliated me by using the Hand of Death on me, I could have fought back, but the time wasn't right to reveal myself. I didn't know yet if I could trust you.

So don't think you can best me as easily as you did that night. The feu is powerful, Ric. You're going to have to come to me to lay a hand on me, but I can hurt you from a distance."

Tux held out his right arm and cupped his hand palm up. Ric saw the flesh take on a pink glow, as though a powerful beam of light were being pressed against his hand from the other side, and a luminescence started to shine from between the fingers. Greenish orbs of phosph.o.r.escent light rose from his palm and started to drift toward Ric. He changed position, gliding to his left, but the light shifted course and followed him.

Ric knew little about the feu follet other than it meant something that was elusive and misleading. Did the dancing light that wafted toward him have the heat and deadly burning capacity of real fire, or was Ric just meant to believe so? He didn't particularly want to find out the hard way.

He moved again, and the orbs followed, but before they could reach him, they unraveled into feathery streamers of radiance that dissipated on the breeze like smoke. When Ric looked again at Tux, the creature was standing twenty-five feet deep into the woods.

"I won't follow you, Tux. You're not going to lure me into the woods like some unsuspecting traveler."

"No? Then you can't defeat me, can you? Well, whether you know it or not you are unsuspecting. You have no idea what I can do. If you want to just stand there and let yourself be destroyed, that's all right with me." Tux raised both arms, and this time two b.a.l.l.s of light rose and floated toward Ric. They pulsed like beating hearts of brightness before dissolving into a shimmering mist that rolled over the ground like fog. Ric moved around the yard, staying just ahead of the light.

It's an illusion. It's just a trick to misdirect the eye. Ric said the words to himself over and over, but he couldn't quite bring himself to believe them. Finally, as swift as Ric's vampiric speed was, the dancing light was quicker. The feu overtook him, and it was like standing in a shower except that instead of drops of water, thousands of twinkling lights poured over him. It effectively blinded him, and under the caress of brilliance, he shivered with a fear that was unknown to him. If he couldn't see his enemy, he was helpless.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. It's just a deception. And it doesn't burn. He concentrated on letting his own power flow outward, and when he opened his eyes, the lights were gone and so was Tux.

Ric ran to the patio door. "Shelby!"

"I'm here. I'm okay."

He peeked inside and saw her with not only a knife, but also a shotgun and her service weapon. He nodded toward her a.r.s.enal.

"Those'll be like throwing a dart at an elephant."

She smiled grimly. "Maybe so, but they make me feel better just the same."

"I think it's only Tux. If the knife is silver, it's your best choice."

Laughter floated toward Ric from the edge of the woods, just as the feu follet had. "No, I didn't go after her, Ric, but I could have. I could have killed her before you could have torn yourself from the feu's embrace. So you see, you will have to come after me to stop me."

Tux was right. He couldn't just stay on the defensive, yet neither could he afford to be lured away from the house. He would have to lean on more of his other strengths. The Hand of Death, as big a hook as it was, needed a line to help catch its prey.

"No, there you're wrong, Tux. If I come after you, it'll be to run you down, not to be enticed like a child who knows no better."

Laughter drifted through the air like the feu...

Ric's gaze sought that of the creature across the yard, and he locked in the compelling power that could bridge the distance between them. "You will no longer use the feu follet against me, Tuxbridge. You will come to me, and we will fight this guerre B l'outrance, d'egal B egal, fight to the finish, equal to equal."

Ric reeled his opponent in, step-by-step, until Tux was halfway across the yard. Ric had time for a brief instant of satisfaction before he felt his control crack and the night explode in a reign of terror. Tux broke eye contact and flung the dancing fire at Ric's head. This time the lights didn't float, but blew at Ric like a firestorm, blinding him with a brilliance that was more like flashes of lightning than a glowing ground fog. Ric spun, but the movement only caused him to lose his sense of where he was. Too late, he felt himself being grabbed from behind by hands that were thrust under his own arms and then pressed against the back of his neck. Tux was nearly as tall as he was, and broader and heavier by about fifty pounds. As physically powerful as any vampire Ric had met, Tux had the strength and leverage to lock in the hold securely. It forced Ric's arms up and rendered the Hand of Death useless.

"Equal? You never treated me as an equal, Ric, not from day one. I was just an errand boy, no better in your eyes than a jackal. I could've lived with that, but not what you did to my brother. You killed my brother over a mortal, d.a.m.n you!"

Though the hold was painful and left him immobile, it was far from deadly. What could Tux hope to accomplish except to humiliate him?

If Ric had known the answer, he wouldn't have asked the question.Tux let go with his left arm, and Ric tried to twist and break the hold. Before he could, though, he felt a knife blade pierce his side.

Pain more blinding than the feu follet washed over him, and he cried out. It was silver. Nothing but silver could burn with such a white-hot intensity.

"Let go of him, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

Tux released his hold, and Ric fell to his knees. Through the silver haze of pain he could see Shelby about twenty feet away, the pistol she held in a two-handed grip pointed right at Tux's heart. "That won't stop him, Shelby. Get out of here, now!"

But she held her ground, and Tux's laugh was as biting as a second knife thrust. "By all means, stay, Sheriff. When I'm done with the doctor, I'll have you."

Ric heard the gun go off, over and over. The ringing sound was deafening, but he knew the bite of the weapon wouldn't match its bark. Still, Tux screamed, staggered backward, and toppled over Ric.

"Shelby, get in the car and leave, now. Bullets will slow him down, but they won't stop him."

"Not even silver? I thought you said..."

Tux's shrieks drowned out the rest of her statement. He was writhing on the ground, and Ric realized that the knife was lying just a couple feet away. Even in his pain, Tux saw where Ric's gaze fell, and Tux tried to reach toward the knife. Ric didn't have to beat him to it. He only had to lay his hand against Tux's body. Both men stretched for their targets, but Ric was quicker. Tux's wounds, like Ric's, were bleeding freely and showing no signs of closing and healing. It was the mark of a silver wound.

"I'm sorry, my friend. I would not have ended it like this. But at least you'll be with your family." Ric held his hand over Tux's heart, felt the blood flow, and let his own power surge against it. In a moment Tux's screams faded as his body died the True Death. Ric collapsed on top of the body, fearing he, too, would join Tuxbridge in whatever nasty corner of h.e.l.l was reserved for the Undead.

But he felt warm hands and heard a welcome voice and knew he wasn't in h.e.l.l yet.

"Ric! Don't be dead, please."

He moaned. The voice was wonderful, but it wasn't making sense. He had already died, hadn't he?

"Ric, tell me what to do. How can I help?"

"There's only one thing that can help him, Miss, and that's fresh blood." The voice came from behind Shelby.

She whirled, raising her gun to the new target.

Ric pushed himself to a kneeling position. "No, Shelby, don't! Don't shoot him."

"Don't worry, Doc, she's no threat to me. Are you, Miss? Put the gun down." Revelin Scott's voice was mild, yet Ric, even in his present state, could feel the energy in the air and the power of command behind the even words.

Shelby seemed frozen, unsure what to do, but after a few seconds she lowered the gun, letting it dangle at her side. She offered no resistance when Scott took the weapon from her.

"I'm going to talk to the good doctor, yeah? You can help all of us by ringing somebody on your mobile so that half the cops in the county don't rush here in response to those gunshots."

Ric rose to his feet, his hand still pressed to his side, but the wound continued to bleed. He wasn't surprised to see Scott, nor was it a shocker that the enforcer showed up only after the fight was over. Ric had spent enough time around Drago and other enforcers to know that their motto was "mop, don't meddle." Their job was to issue sanctions and punish those responsible for violating vampire law, not to take sides or interfere in a dispute.Ric waited with as much patience as his pain would allow for Scott's p.r.o.nouncement. There was no point in trying to defend or explain his actions. Scott was no jury-he was cop, judge, and executioner-all in one neat killing machine. Rather like Robespierre. The thought prompted Ric to look at Revelin Scott with none-too-friendly eyes. It was the reason so many enforcers were hated.

It was strange that Ric had never thought of Drago in that light, especially since l'enforcier had had more than his share of enemies.

But Ric had never been in the position of having his own head on the chopping block. Had this been his inescapable fate all along, merely delayed by two hundred years?

Shelby had gone into the house to make the phone call. Scott stared at Ric with the weary patience a parent shows a tiresome child. Ric's feeling of dislike for the enforcer sharpened, whetted by both the look and the pain of his wound. It was as though his very bloodstream had caught fire and was pumping burning agony to every fiber of his being.

"You're very quiet, Doc. Is the pain that bad?"

If Ric were in the throes of True Death staring h.e.l.l and d.a.m.nation in the face, he wouldn't admit it to another vamp. "No. There's just nothing to say, is there? He shouldn't have died. I don't apologize for or regret what I did, but Tux shouldn't have died. He was strong, and he did his best for this community, human and Undead alike."

Scott sighed. "I knew when I sanctioned him he wouldn't obey my order to stay away from you."