"Who is it?" I wasn't about to just open the door, even with Valdez at my side. At least he wasn't barking. Good sign.
"Blade. Open up." I turned the locks. Blade stepped inside and looked around. "Are you alone?"
"Yes. No customers at the moment."
"Put the Closed sign up and lock the front door." He had such a grim look that I got sick to my stomach. I didn't say anything, just walked over to flip the deadbolts and the sign.
"Bring her in, Kenneth." Blade stepped aside.
Kenneth staggered through the door with Margie in his arms. He was crying, his dark cheeks wet. Margie was limp and, oh, God, a wooden cross stuck out of her chest.
"My baby girl." He wept as he laid her on the floor. "How can she be gone? We were supposed to have forever together. Who would do this?"
I held on to Blade, not sure what to say. There were no words of comfort adequate.
"We'll find out. This must stop." Blade pushed Valdez out of the storeroom and closed the door. "Whatever it takes. We'll find out."
Kenneth looked up and his eyes hardened. "Westwood?"
"No, this hunter has struck before. Two vampires in Houston were staked this way the night MacTavish was killed in Lake Charles."
I had the presence of mind to pull out a fifties vintage chenille bedspread, a pretty rose color, and hand it to Kenneth. "Why don't you wrap M—Margie in this?"
Kenneth just stared at me, obviously in shock. "Would you leave me alone with her first?"
"Of course." I pulled Blade out of the storeroom and shut the door again. He put his arms around me and buried his face in my hair.
I couldn't let him go. Oh, God, he was shaking. I rubbed his back. How horrible to find Margie like that. She'd been so beautiful, so alive. Full of vamp power. Valdez pressed his warm body against my skirt. We were like a huddle of shell-shocked soldiers after an assault.
Blade raised his head and touched my cheek. "It could have been you, Gloriana. You see why I want you to be careful?"
"Yes. I'll be careful." I didn't want to think about Kenneth saying good-bye in my storeroom. He'd been with Margie for over a hundred years, but that was nothing compared to the time I'd spent with Blade. I brushed Blade's jaw with my fingers.
" You stay safe." I patted his chest. "And if I say wear a vest, damn it, wear a vest."
"I don't understand why Margie was in the alley. How did someone lure her there?" Blade ignored my demand and was already into his "Find the enemy and eliminate it" mode. "And what do the crosses mean? I know mortals think we can't tolerate them, but to stake with a cross, that's strange."
"Do you think it could be another vampire? He denied it, but Richard Mainwaring, Flo's lover, I mean ex-lover, matches the description of the praying vampire. The one who fed from the Goth who came to my shop that night. The vamp prayed while he fed. Like he was asking forgiveness or something. Maybe he's got a hate on for other vampires."
"A vampire taking out his own?" Blade stared at the closed storeroom door. "Why? And Marguerite wasn't exactly a rogue vampire. She was as into blending as you are."
"Exactly. So who would know she even was vamp, except another one? Or someone with one of Westwood's vamp detectors."
"I hope to hell Westwood's not selling those things." Blade looked really, really grim. "Another vampire. Maybe. But I don't see a motive."
"It could be another vampire." I hoped I wasn't sending Blade in the wrong direction. I rubbed my aching forehead. None of this made sense. But hate crimes never did. "Listen, I may be all wrong. But when Flo and I saw him at church, Richard looked at me with so much hate—"
"Did he threaten you?" Blade's fingers bit into my arms. Yes, he was still holding me and I wasn't about to push him away.
"No. He didn't even speak to us. But Flo broke up with him because he was sneaking around, didn't want anyone to know he was in Austin. That's suspicious right there." This find-the-perp mode was contagious. Blade let me go to pace in front of the storeroom. "I won't ask what you were doing in a church. But, Glory, why would Richard be killing other vampires? He's a very old vampire himself."
"He's decided he hates what he is. And he hates us. Flo says he doesn't want to be vampire anymore. But we can't kill ourselves. That vamp code thing." The vamp code's not written down anywhere, but there are some unwritten rules. Don't bite another vamp without permission. Hah, Damian! Never deliberately endanger another vampire. And we keep our secrets. It's a close knit community and when one of us is attacked, we all go on high alert and do whatever it takes.
"It's not just code, Gloriana. I knew a vampire once who tried to commit suicide." Blade looked grim, obviously remembering a bad time. "He couldn't do it. Even though you know vampires are fearless."
"Most of them anyway." I grabbed Blade's hand and made him look at me. "What happened?"
"He simply couldn't put a stake to his own heart. He begged me to do it."
"No!" I squeezed his hand. "Who was it, Jerry? Anyone I know?"
He shook his head. "He died before I met you."
"You didn't—"
"No, but he had no trouble finding a hunter to oblige him."
Blade turned away, obviously not interested in sharing any more about this with me.
I shivered and picked up a paisley challis scarf to throw around my shoulders. Had I really wasted years with my own suicidal thoughts? Am I dumb as dirt or what?
"I have no idea if Mainwaring's the one who killed Margie, but you should question him." The storeroom door opened and Kenneth came out with Margie wrapped in the bedspread. He didn't say anything, just walked to the door and waited for Blade to flip the locks to let him out. He walked out into the night. A few quiet words and Blade stepped outside to open a car door. Blade came back in and put his arm around me.
"Where will he take her… body?" I nervously pulled the glass door closed and locked it. We could still see Kenneth as he tenderly placed Margie's body in the backseat of his car. It was really late and the street was deserted, thank God.
"I'm sure he'll find a place."
Vampires don't exactly buy cemetery plots and plan funerals. You think you'll live forever. And when a vamp does die, it's usually horrific and a loved one or another vampire will take care of burying the body. We don't melt like the Wicked Witch of the West. Or turn to dust. Instead we get a lonely unmarked grave. Forget about a headstone. What would you put? Born 1580, died 2000-and-something?
"What happened to Mac's body, Jerry?"
He looked at me and let me see his pain. "I don't know. I had Mara to deal with." He looked down at his black boots. I knew he must have a knife tucked in one. "That's another mark against that bastard Westwood. He takes fangs and then God knows how he disposes of the body. I went back later…" He ran his hand over his face. "No sign of Mac." I wrapped my arms around him again. "How horrible for you." I leaned back and looked up at him. I've never seen Blade cry. Not in hundreds of years. And he didn't cry now. But his face could have been carved from stone.
"If something happens to me, Jerry, cremate me. Take my ashes back to England. Scatter them around the Globe." I didn't have to say it was where I'd met Jerry. He knew. Grief makes me sentimental, I guess.
"You won't die, lass. I'll see to it." His hold on me tightened and he rested his chin on my hair.
"You can't promise that, Jerry." I saw Kenny's car pull away from the curb. "You just can't." I looked back in the storeroom. The wooden cross lay on the floor in a puddle of blood. Kenny must have pulled it out. That did it. I ran to the bathroom and was violently ill for the first time in decades. It's pretty harsh since our stomachs are basically empty.
When I came out, glad I'd had a toothbrush back there, Blade had cleaned the linoleum. He carried one of my shop sacks. The cross.
"What are you going to do with that?" I couldn't bear to think about where it had been. Margie. I swallowed, hard.
"It's evidence. I'm no forensic scientist, but I can hire one. I'll take it to one for analysis. Maybe he can discover a clue that will help us find this killer and punish him."
Vigilante justice is the only kind vampires can get. And Blade had obviously nominated himself as leader of the posse. I kissed his stiff jaw. He grabbed me and kissed me with all the emotion that he kept pent up inside him. I leaned into him, savoring his taste and his strength. Finally Blade pulled back.
"I don't suppose you want—"
I put a hand over his mouth. I don't think he meant to be insensitive. It's just that Jerry is such a guy. Naturally he'd think sex would be a great comfort for both of us.
But passionate woman or not, I wasn't ready to climb into Jerry's bed. It was a slippery slope. Next thing you knew, I'd be sleeping over. And he'd figure I'd come to my senses and had decided to give us another chance. I just wasn't ready. And wasn't sure I'd ever be. But, damn, the man could kiss.
He was staring at me, the bag with the cross between us.
"Go. See what you can find out. Keep me posted." I unlocked the front door to let him out.
"I will." He strode toward his car without a backward glance.
Well, shoot. He could have at least begged a little. There were still a few hours until dawn but I saw that pink sweater I'd set aside for Margie and didn't have the heart to reopen the shop. I called Valdez and locked up. Another dead vampire. Weren't we supposed to live forever?
Chapter Fourteen
Blade called another vamp meeting. I got Ryan to take care of the shop so Derek and I could go. Valdez too, of course. He wasn't letting me out of his sight. Not that I was objecting. Flo met us there, with Damian. We were in Blade's new house this time. An English manor style place in an affluent older neighborhood.