Mary called ahead, then drove two hours to get to S.I.S., the investigations agency. She had expected an office I a building in a town. The place at which she arrived was none of those things. It was a huge Victorian manor, recently renovated and stunning.
The supernatural investigations racket must be a lucrative one, Mary thought, as she drove Michael's Jag into the driveway and brought it to a stop.
And then she sat there for a couple of minutes, doing what she'd been doing during the entire drive. Wondering if she had lost her mind.
When a person tells you he is a vampire, you should run away. Any sane person would have spent the day putting as many miles between herself and Michael Gray as humanly possible. But no. She must not be sane, because she was up here on a fact-finding mission instead. And she knew exactly what kinds of facts she was hoping to find: facts that would tell her that it was going to be okay. That there could be some kind of future with Michael. That he'd told her everything now; there were no more secrets he was keeping for her. She wanted validation. She wanted to know everything about him.
Yes, she'd been thrown for a loop by what he claimed to be, and by seeing him a crypt with his name on it. And yes, she was scared to death by everything that had happened over the past few days. Not of Michael. Never of Michael. Nothing else that had happened was powerful enough to override the feelings that had been steadily growing inside her from the first time he'd walked into The Crypt.
Last night those feelings had filled her to overflowing. They made her fears and her rational mind tiny by comparison. She didn't want to run away from him. She wanted to stay. Maybe forever.
As she sat there, mulling all that over, the front door opened and a woman with short blond hair and a diamond stud in her nose stepped out onto the front porch, crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head to one side.
Mary shut the car off and got out.
"Nice wheels," the woman said. "I'm Stormy. You must be Mary."
Mary nodded and walked up the steps to shake her hand. "Good to finally meet you."
"You look like hell. You okay?"
She ran her handover her neck, where Michael's teeth had pierce her skin. It still tingled there. "I'm not sure. I think I was bitten by a vampire lat night, but I have no idea what that means."
Stormy held her gaze. "Well, you're still alive, so I'm guessing it means you had a damn good night. Lemme see." She pushed Mary's hand aside and peered at her neck. "Hell, I can't be sure. The punctures heal the minute the sunlight hits them, but sometimes there's a tiny pink spot that gives it away." She squinted and leaned closer. "Yeah, there's still a trace."
Mary closed her eyes. The woman was as matter-of-fact as if she were talking about the weather. "Then...?"
Story smiled at her. "You really don't know anything about any of this, do you?"
Mary shook her head.
"Come on come inside and sit down. I'll fix you some tea. Max and Lou will be here any minute." She took Mary's arm and led her inside.
The foyer was spectacular. It took Mary's breath away, with the crystal chandelier, the antique furniture and the stunning staircase leading up to the second floor.
"We live in the main part of the house. The library serves as our office. Come on, it's right through here.."
She led Mary through a set of double doors and into a library. The room contained two desks. One was neat shiny, nothing but a computer on top. The other held a computer but strewn with file folders and papers and coffee rings, and had a miniature of the Conspiracy Theory movie poster taped to one side. There was a gas fireplace along one wall and comfy-looking leather chairs, a settee and rows and rows and more rows of books lining the walls.
"Have a seat. I'll get the tea. And relax. You're not going to grow fangs or anything fro one vamp bite. All right?"
She couldn't believe the amount of relief that rushed through her at those words the reassurance. God, to think she had actually been worried about something as far-fetched as-hell, everything she'd ever believed to be real and normal and ordinary had been turned inside out in the past few days. She didn't suppose anything was ridiculous at this point.
Story left her in the library, closing the doors behind her. Mary started toward a chair, as instructed, but paused, drawn to the bookshelves as she noticed the titles on some of the spines. The Kybalion, The Tibetan Book of the Dead, The Key of Solomon the King...
Every book on the shelf had some mystical title, and many appeared to be extremely old. There were illuminated manuscripts from medieval times, for heaven's sakes.
"I see you appreciate our collection," a woman's voice said.
Mary turned to see her standing in the open doorway. She was petite, with short copper hair and huge green eyes. She reminded Mary of an imp or a wood sprite. She was standing beside a man who wore dress pants and a white shirt that seemed baggy on him. He was older than she was and had a tried look about him. Stormy walked in behind them and closed the doors.
"Mary McLean, meet Maxine Stuart and Lou Malone. The three of use are Supernatural Investigation Services. Officially, at least."
"Officially?"
"Maxine smiled, coming forward, extending a hand. "Yeah. Unofficially we have a couple of silent but extremely helpful partners. Call me Max."
Mary shook her hand. "These books are incredible," she said.
"Thanks. There's a lot of incredible and accurate information in those books, stuff we need in this business. But you have to wade through a lot of superstitious bull and religious dogma to find it."
Mary didn't know whether to laugh or not.
"Have a seat," Lou said, "and let's hear what's been going on." He nodded her toward one of the leather chairs, so she took it. Story handed her a cup of steaming tea and sat down on the settee, while Maxine went behind the messy desk with the movie poster on it and sat there, booting up her computer. Lou took the remaining leather chair.
"I hardly know where to begin," Mary said.
"Start at the beginning," the man said. He had a gentle, easy way about him that made her feel both comfortable and safe.
"All right."
So Mary sipped her tea and told them everything from the very beginning. She told them abut the phone calls an the break-in, about reporting both to the police. She told them about Michael, how he'd just started showing up at The Crypt, watching her, until he'd finally asked for a ride home so he could warn her that her stalker was a serial killer an that she was next on his hit list. And then she told them about Tommy's murder, the police suspecting her, and her going to Michael's place. And that was where she stopped.
Maxine, who'd been clicking computer keys intermittently throughout the tale, and Lou, who had been patient and silent, both looked at her waiting. She didn't say anything until Stormy prompted her.
"What happened last night, Mary? After I e-mailed you the photo of the cop named Michael Gray who was killed in Chicago seventy-some years ago?"
Mary sighed, licked her lips. She drank the last swallow of tea from the cup. 'He walked in while I was looking at the photo. So I showed him, and I asked him to explain."
"And?"
She lowered her head, shaking it slowly. "He told me he was... a vampire." Unable to remain sitting, she got to her feet, paced a few steps, turned and paced back. "I don't know what the hell happened after that. My logical mind told me I should run, and yet I didn't. I didn't want to I'm not afraid of him. I've got all these feelings for this guy that don't make any sense at all. He says it's partly because of my blood... something about the antigen, but it sounds like science fiction to me. But he says there's more. And, I don't know... He kissed me, and the next thing I knew, we were-I just..." She stopped pacing, pushed a hand through her hair. "We spent the night in bed together. And he..."
"He drank from her," Stormy filled in. "Not much, obviously. She's not even pale. Probably just got a little carried away in the height of... well, you know how it is with vamps."
"Hot-blooded little suckers, every last one of them," Maxine said with a wink and a grin at her own bad pun. "So what happened this morning? You guys resolve anything?"
She shook her head. "He reminded me tonight's the full moon. That's when this killer usually hits, and even though Tommy's dead and al evidence points to him, Michael says he can still sense danger around me. He made me promise to be there when he returned. And I did. And then he left." She looked at her feet. "I followed him. He went to a cemetery, into a crypt, I think. It has his name across the top." She hugged herself and shivered.
"It's not as creepy as it sounds, Mary," Maxine said. "I mean, some of them have the insides of those things fixed up nicer than a deluxe suite at the Ritz."
She looked up slowly.
Lou said, "You have to understand, they need to be careful. There are people who hunt them like animals. And God knows, if there existence ever became common knowledge, there would be no peace for them."
"All they want," Stormy said, "Is to live their lives in peace. They aren't murderous maniacs, the way pop culture depicts them. They're just people. Just like us, with a few notable differences."
She had gazed at each of them in turn. They were speaking so casually about something that, until very recently she hadn't even believed in. Her knees went weak, and she bent them, landing in the chair behind her. "You're telling me this isn't a unique situation here? Vampires are so common that you people know all about them?"
They nodded, all three of them. Maxine turned her computer monitor toward Mary. "And so is the string of murders Michael's been telling you about. We've been following them ourselves. All the victims had the belladonna antigen. You have it, too so his concern for your safety is valid."
Mary nodded, letting all her breath escape her at once. "I was so hoping you'd tell me just the opposite. I mean, I believe Michael. I've believed him all along. But it would be nice if someone could tell me he was overreacting-that I was never really in danger."
"Sorry about that."
Drawing a breath, Mary squared her shoulders. "Can you explain to me a little more about this... antigen in my blood? And the bond Michael says it creates between us?"
Nodding, Max glanced at Lou. He cleared his throat. "First, hon, let me just tell you that in all honesty, five years ago, I thought this was the most far-fetched pile of horse manure anyone had ever tried to dump on me. But I've seen the proof. I know it's true. It's a lot to digest all at once, but it's for real. It's important you not get hung up too that part of it, because you need to get by it in order to make much sense of the rest."
"I'm trying, believe me."
He smiled at her, reached across the space between them and patted her hand where it rested on the arm of her chair. "Some people have the belladonna antigen. It's a rare one. And those who have it have a few things in common. For one thing, they tend to bleed a lot when cut. Some to the point of hemophilia, but others not quite so bad as that. It's tough to find blood donors when they do, because so few people have the antigen."
She nodded "And what else?"
He lifted his brows.
"You said that was one of the few things we have in common. What are the others?"
He sent a look toward Maxine. She pursed her lips, moved her head almost imperceptibly from side to side. They were keeping something from her; she knew it then. Why so many secrets?
"Well, there's really a lot more than we can cover here today," Lou said. "But the main thing you need to know right now is this. The only people who can become vampires are people with the antigen."
"The Chosen," she whispered.
"Yeah. That's what the vamps call them. They know who has the antigen and who doesn't. They sense it somehow, and they have this instinctual urge to protect them. Some of them fight it, some embrace it, but its extremely difficult for them to ignore. For a vampire to harm one of The Chosen is a rarity. It's almost impossible for them. I've only heard of one or two cases of it, and those both involved vamps with obvious mental illnesses."
"That means it's highly unlikely Michael could be the killer," Maxine said.
"Unlikely, hell," Lou added. "It's all but impossible.
Mary nodded. "I know that about him, but it's good to have something more solid than my own feelings to base it on.
Max got up from behind the desk. "There's some lore that suggests each vampire will feel a bond with one of The Chosen more powerfully than with any other. It's suppose to hold true even if that person has been transformed before the two meet. The antigen remains of course. I don't know if it's true. I think it was with Dante and Morgan, though. I've never seen anything like the power of the bond between the two of them."
"Dante and Morgan?" Mary asked.
"My sister and her husband. Our silent partners in the business. Hadn't you guessed by now? They're vampires."