Chapter Three

Muriah’s head snapped up off her desk when she heard the door open. Did I fall asleep? The door closed. I locked it. I know I did. What time is it?

She started to pick up the phone receiver when a familiar voice called her name.

“Muriah! Are you here?”

“Lukas…” Relief flooded her entire body. “I’m in the office.”

He appeared in the doorway of her office, his keys still dangling from his fingers.

“What happened?” He gestured to the yellow police tape around her door. “Are you all right?”

Muriah shrugged, offering up a smile to the closest person to family she had left. “Can I get back to you on that?”

Lukas sat across from her. “I’ve got all night.”

She sighed, offering a weak smile in reply as she met his eyes. Lukas had the most amazing deep green eyes. It was way too easy to get lost in them. Side effect of being much older than he looked. Muriah had known him for over twenty years now, and he’d never aged.

Perk of being a Night Walker.

He’d been a customer of The Dimension’s Den since her great-great-great grandfather Girard La Deaux first pulled his wagon into the coastal village. Lukas had been a friend of the family ever since. He’d been her protector all her life, like an older brother.

“Richard’s dead,” she blurted out. Subtle. God she hated when her mouth spoke without her brain’s permission.

“What?” Lukas’ eyes widened as he moved to the edge of his seat. “How did it happen?”

“He was murdered.” Tears welled in her eyes. Saying the words aloud, hearing them in her own voice, made them real, and for the first time since she’d heard the news the night before, Muriah wept.

Lukas came around her desk, embracing her tightly. “I’m sorry, Muriah.”

She sobbed and then fought to contain her tears. Crying wasn’t going to bring him back. She was a La Deaux, and she wasn’t really in love with Richard anyway. Was she? No.

She’d never been in love with anyone. She was much too careful for that. Drawing in a deep breath, she pulled back from Lukas and dried her eyes. “Sorry about that. I’m pretty sleep deprived at the moment. He was a good friend, though.” Lukas gave her a knowing smile, and she shook her head. “Don’t look at me like that. We were just friends, nothing more.”

He glanced around the store. “So why were the police here?”

“Looking for more information on Richard.” She opened the drawer of her desk and withdrew the agent’s business card. “They wanted to know where he lives, stuff like that.”

“Did you tell them?”

“Not exactly.”

He raised a brow. “Not exactly?”

“No.” Muriah slumped back in her chair. “It’s messy. Richard Talley wasn’t even his real name. I can’t get myself tangled up in the investigation. I saw the news on television today before I came back to the store, and none of it makes any sense.”

“Maybe you should start at the beginning.”

“Can you keep a secret?”

“It’s my specialty.” Lukas leaned forward in his chair.

“Richard made a living selling and moving drugs. That’s how he paid for his fine art and hard-to-find book habit. He had a list of aliases. I only know a few of them.” He raised a judgmental brow, and she wondered if Lukas had any idea how much he looked like her mother when he stared at her like that. “Stop looking so shocked. I’m not a child. I knew what I was getting into with him. We were never going to get married and live happily ever after. We just enjoyed each other’s company. No strings attached.”

“Of course not,” he mumbled under his breath. Lukas stood and gestured toward the book shelves. “And now this shady friend has gotten you and your store mixed up in a murder investigation.”

Muriah straightened a little. “I doubt he did this on purpose, Lukas. Given the choice, I’m pretty sure he’d much rather be standing here with his head and hands still attached to his body.”

The judgmental stare melted away. Now he just looked worried.

Muriah nodded. “Yeah. The police failed to mention that part to me last night. I found out about it on the news this morning.”

“Do the police know about his ‘business’?”

She shrugged. “They probably didn’t before, but they certainly realize something about it now.” She met his eyes, leaning toward him slightly. “But I don’t think they’re right.”

“Okay, you’re losing me again. What do they know?”

“Apparently, they found a marking on Richard’s body…” She paused and took a sip of water to settle herself. This was messing with her insides. “And no blood. The news reporter said an anonymous source in the medical examiner’s office stated that it was a bloodless body.”

“If he was missing…parts, how do they know this body is Richard?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced her voice out. “They found his head and hands in a dumpster, every fingernail ripped out. I forget how the newscaster said it, but basically they think he died of massive blood loss. Duh, right?”

Clearing her throat, she shook her head and went on. “The news report also mentioned that Richard appeared to be an addict. They said he had puncture wounds directly into his jugular vein.” She let that news sink in for a second. “Could a Night Walker have done this? Richard was a lot of things, but never a user. He told me once that the drugs were like a wad of cash. Using it yourself is like flushing your cash down the toilet. It was his number one business rule. You move the stuff, you don’t take it. And he’d never be stupid enough to put something directly into his jugular. You could bleed to death.”

Muriah waited, but Lukas didn’t reply. “Lukas? Are you listening?”

“I’m sorry.” He sat in the chair again, steepling his fingers. “I’m trying to put all of this together in my mind. If a Night Walker attacked him, I don’t understand why he would take his head and hands.”

“Maybe he wanted to slow the police down while he put some miles between himself and San Diego.” She lowered her voice. “Or to make his murder look like it was drug related.”

“But you said he wasn’t a user.”

“Right.” Muriah nodded slowly, swallowing a wad of emotion. “So if it wasn’t a Night Walker, then the massive blood loss would mean…” Her throat tightened up, her stomach twisting as she pieced together Richard’s final hours. Perspiration dotted her brow. “He’d had to have cut off his hands and his head while Richard was still…”

She couldn’t finish. Muriah bolted out of her chair, out of her office, and into the tiny bathroom at the back of the store. She retched until she felt dizzy, fighting to catch her breath. Her hand trembled as she reached out to flush the toilet and grabbed the edge of the sink to haul herself up from the floor to a standing position.

She gasped when she turned and found Lukas in the doorway. He didn’t say a word, just pulled her into his arms and held her while she cried one last time for the man she never allowed herself to love.

Since cancer stole her mother a few years ago, Lukas was the closest thing she had to family. He often disappeared for a few months at a time, but eventually he always made an appearance in her doorway with another request for a book he needed for his research.

She looked up at him again, taking a step back. “Sorry about that. I’m okay now.”

He nodded and followed her to her office.

Muriah sipped her water, watching Lukas. “Now that my head is a little clearer, I doubt they could have done it while he was alive. The police would’ve found blood everywhere, right?”

“Probably.” His jaw clenched.

“So it’s gotta be a Night Walker, right?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Lukas shrugged. “Maybe they killed him elsewhere and just dumped the body on the beach.”

“I guess that’s possible.” She blew out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “But there’s something else I need to tell you.”

“More?”

She met his eyes with a nod. “Last night after the police left, I found a strange man waiting at my doorstep. He wanted to talk to me about Richard. About an item Richard hired me to find.”

“Was he a reporter or something?”

“He was something all right.” She gnawed at her lower lip and finally said what she’d been thinking all day. “I’m not sure what he was.”

Lukas frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“His eyes were too sparkly. He was too handsome, and he had this weird tattoo on his neck. It looked like a snake. I swear it moved and coiled around his neck.” She rubbed the goose bumps on her arms. “I screamed, and lights came on in the alley. Then he vanished.”

“You saw him disappear into thin air?”

“Well, not really, but I turned around, and he was gone. No footsteps in the distance. Nothing.”

Lukas shot out of his chair, rubbing at his forehead like it would help make an answer magically appear. “What else can you tell me about him?”

“He was tall, maybe a couple inches taller than you, and he was looking for the same Mayan codex Richard wanted.”

“Wait a minute. Richard sent you after a codex?” She nodded, and Lukas cursed under his breath. “I need to warn the others.” He scrawled a name and number on a scrap of paper. “If you need me, you can reach me or Gretchen at this number.”

Muriah took the paper, her eyes scanning it before she glanced up at him. “Were you going to tell me that you and Gretchen are still together?”

“I wasn’t keeping it from you.” He sighed and set the pen down. “I have a lot to tell you, but it’s complicated.” A smile spread over his lips, and for the first time in her life, Lukas looked truly happy. “The short answer is: I love her.”

Muriah stood up and embraced him. “I’m happy for you. You deserve this.” She drew back, meeting his eyes. “I told you she could handle your secret.”

During the strange wave of suicides plaguing northern Mexico and into Texas and southern California, Lukas had asked Muriah to spend a day with his then-assistant Gretchen while the sun was up. He’d been hiding his true nature from her at the time, and after Muriah spent a few hours with the intelligent archeologist, she advised Lukas that he should tell her who and what he really was.

He’d resisted of course, worried Gretchen would consider him a vampire. It was a simple mistake; Night Walkers burned in the sun and had to drink blood to maintain their strength, but they were so much more. Descended from the Mayans, they also shifted into their spirit animal at will, and contrary to vampire legends, they had beating hearts, they breathed.

He tilted his head with a twinkle in his eyes. “You were right…this time.”

She stepped back, sliding the paper in her pocket. “I’ll call if I need you. Thanks.”

“You’d better.” He gave her hand a squeeze and headed for the door. “I’ve watched over the La Deaux family for too long to lose one now.”

“Yes, Dad.” Muriah chuckled, but her laughter died away when the door closed.

Alone again. And in spite of all her bravado, fear held her in a tight grip.

…

Zafrina stood on the balcony overlooking the ocean, but she didn’t stare out at the waves. Her full attention was focused inside the house, on Gretchen through the French doors. A large horned owl circled and landed on the balcony. Energy washed across her skin as the air charged around the owl. His body shifted until his spirit animal melted away, and Lukas stood beside her.

His gaze followed hers. “How is Gretchen?”

“She is not eating enough. She complains of nightmares, of immortals hunting for her and her child.” She turned toward the water, leaning on the railing.

“Remember our deal.” Lukas moved closer. “If it comes to Gretchen’s life or the child…”

“We spare her and take the child.” Zafrina prayed it wouldn’t come to making a choice, but Lukas had been adamant she swear to keep Gretchen safe before agreeing to allow her to accompany them back to San Diego. “Will your friend with the bookstore find the prophecy for us?”

“I didn’t get a chance to ask her.”

Zafrina straightened, meeting his eyes. “If the codex still exists, we need it. That prophecy will answer our questions about the child’s immortality.”

“I know, but her friend was murdered.” He glanced through the doors at Gretchen. “And someone else made contact with her.”

“Someone?”

He faced Zafrina again. “She thought he might be a Night Walker. Definitely not human.”

Her pulse raced. It couldn’t be another Night Walker or even another vampire. She would have sensed him. In order to keep Gretchen safe, she’d been mentally reaching out at each rising, her mind searching for the unmistakable thirst for blood.

The only blood drinkers were in this house.

She gripped the balcony railing tighter. If another immortal wandered the streets of San Diego, an immortal she could not sense, he must be powerful. She’d walked this earth for thousands of years. Whatever creature cloaked its presence from her had to be ancient.

Unease crept down her spine. How could they protect the child against an unknown threat with that kind of strength? They needed help.

“Go tend to her.” She glanced back at Gretchen. “Your touch calms her mind.”

Lukas left her without a word. Zafrina stared out at the darkness, listening to the waves rolling up the beach. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and focused her mental call. Pain radiated at the base of her head, but she continued pushing further, reaching for the one Night Walker who could make all the difference.

…

The sleek jungle cat ceased stalking his prey. His ear twitched, searching for the source of a sound that whispered into his mind. A moment later, a dark-skinned man rose up onto two legs, the shift almost faster than a human eye could comprehend.

With his body infused with blood, Issa gave up the form of his spirit animal and opened his mind, allowing Zafrina’s mental call to reach him.

The child is in danger.

Issa took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Bring the woman back to the jungle where we can protect them.

Her name is Gretchen, and she is too weak to make the journey. We need you. The young Night Walkers will not be strong enough to fight this one.

Issa frowned, his ageless brow creasing. How can you be so sure?

For a moment, he wondered if she had heard his mental voice. Finally, he received her answer. Because he is not of our people.

How could he know about the child?

Agitation infused Zafrina’s mental call. You will understand when you get here. A jet will be waiting for you tomorrow night. Be on it.

Issa reached up to grip his head in both hands, struggling to keep his tenuous control over his sanity. In the past two months, he had spent more time in the form of a jaguar than a Night Walker. He was in no condition to travel to San Diego and face Ch’en, Kate as she was called in this lifetime, with her lover.

Each smile she offered Calisto ripped open the ancient wound in his heart.

But could he turn his back on his responsibility to protect the mortal world?

And his brothers. If the child perished, they would cease to exist, too.

“Ts’íikil.” He gripped his fists tighter until the muscles from his forearms to his shoulders contracted and ached, willing himself to be strong. “Ts’íikil,” he repeated.

But after thousands of years, how much longer would his courage hold out?

…

The monk in black moved swiftly from shadow to shadow. His right hand rested deep inside his pants pocket. Cold sweat dripped down his back, sending a chill through his entire body. His features hardened as he got closer to the beach house owned by Calisto Terana.

Calisto was a well-regarded philanthropist in La Jolla, but he was not what he seemed. Far from it. He sold his soul to the Devil centuries ago.

The man in black wiped his brow with his free hand, silently praying for his cause. He hated himself for showing fear. Fear was a weakness in his faith. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob was stronger than the demon who owned this house. He rubbed his wet hand on his pants with a sigh. Faith hadn’t been enough to save the others who came to this place before him.

His monastery had sent watchers to this city for centuries, keeping the secret of the Night Walkers’ existence. It was passed down through the monsignors of their ancient sect. The dark secret, known only to the few monks back home in Spain, was that Calisto was once one of them.

His fist tightened around the crucifix in his pocket.

The monk raced into the foliage, careful to avoid the outside lighting. He withdrew his hand, carefully opening his fingers. The gold cross sparkled in the moonlight as he whispered his prayers. The soft Latin chant soothed his troubled soul. He placed a tender kiss to the center before sliding the crucifix safely back into his pocket.

The monsignor sent him with specific instructions not to confront the Night Walker or his newly immortal mate. He was merely to watch and learn all that he could. Ever since Calisto had passed his blood to the mortal woman, Kate, many of the brethren were plagued by apocalyptic dreams of days to come.

Two women passed by the window. He recognized one as Calisto’s lover, Kate, but the other was a mystery. Her skin looked pale. Too pale. Her long, red hair was a stark contrast to her fair coloring.

He strained to take in every detail as they talked near the window. Did the woman with red hair know she was in the presence of a blood drinker? He had no idea, and at once uttered a soft prayer that he would not be a witness to this young woman’s murder.

Kate moved closer to the red-haired woman, and he tensed. He couldn’t stand by and let an innocent be killed, but what could he do? He scanned the area around him for any potential weapon. Nothing would kill the Night Walker, but perhaps he might distract her long enough for the other woman to escape. He bent to retrieve a rock. Fitting it into his palm, he straightened and peered back through the glass.

The women embraced. Strange. Perhaps she was not going to feed. He settled back into the shadows, dropped the rock, content to watch. For now.