Claim the Night

He interrupted her with a look. “Garner? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Well, it was a thought. He’s got to learn sometime.”

“Not today. Garner can turn the smallest task into an earth-shattering catastrophe. I don’t have time to clean up after him. No Garner.”

“I don’t want to go to the cops,” Theresa said firmly. “That’ll just make things worse with Sam. And if they keep me too long, I’ll be late to work. I can’t afford that.”

“Call in sick.” Jude had had enough. Another minute in the same room with this woman and he might revert. He rose. “If you don’t go to the police, if you go home or go to work instead, then I take no responsibility for anything that happens to you.”

Turning, he walked into his office. Before he closed the door he heard Theresa say, “Is he always so harsh?”

“Only when his night gets messed up.”

Then he closed the door, leaving the problem of Theresa in the capable hands of Chloe, so he could face the much less capable hands of Garner.

Garner lounged in the client chair facing Jude’s desk, one leg thrown over the arm. The instant Jude entered, however, he straightened up, putting both feet on the floor.

Jude said nothing as he rounded the desk and took his own seat. Only then did he speak. “What the hell are you doing here, Garner?”

The younger man shrugged. “I smelled the, ah, target.”

“And?”

“I smelled that same odor somewhere else, earlier today. On someone else.”

At that Jude straightened a bit. “Victim?”

Garner shook his head. He might still be new at all this, but he was sure of his innate instincts. “The oppression involves more than the one guy you found.”

“Hell.”

Garner leaned forward, a little too eagerly. “Look, I know you think I’m too untrained to help at all. I still haven’t figured out how you think I’m going to get trained if you keep me out of all the action. But even you know how good my gift is. And I’m telling you, this is no minor infestation. I bet if I keep moving around town, I’ll find others.”

It was possible, entirely too possible. Such things had happened before, and when they did they invariably signaled a huge problem right around the corner.

“We need to stop it before there are five of them,” Garner said. As if Jude didn’t already know. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. “I followed the guy home. We can find him here.”

Jude caved, just a little. Reaching into his desk he pulled out a container of pushpins. “Put it on the map.” The map of the city that was tacked to one wall. The red pin already there indicated the target he’d been after tonight.

Garner seemed pleased to be allowed to do even this much. Jude, remembering other times when Garner’s attempts to help had proved more problematic than anything, wondered once again what he was going to do with this young man before the kid got himself into serious trouble. The dead kind of trouble.

Garner marked the spot with a blue pin and returned to his seat. “I can help,” he said again.

Jude leaned forward resting on his elbows. “Here’s how it’s going to be, Garner.”

The kid’s face brightened hopefully.

“You’re going to do a sweep. Start at dawn. Cover as much of the city as you can and report back here at sunset. I need to know how many cases we have.”

Garner nodded. “Absolutely.”

“The more there are of them, the faster I need to work. Clear? And you’re not going to get in the way, and you’re not going to do anything stupid. You’re just going to report back.”

Garner’s hope appeared to be tempered with a touch of disappointment, but he nodded again. “I can do that.”

Jude tapped the desk with a fingertip to emphasize his point. “You are not ready to deal with these guys. Are we clear on that? If they catch on to you, you run the risk of infestation or possession yourself. So you’re going to prove to me that you know how to be very cautious, understood?”

“And if I do?”

Jude sighed, knowing there was no way out of this. If the infestation was spreading, he might not be able to keep up without help from someone who could hunt during daylight hours. “If you prove that you can follow orders exactly, I’ll think about the next step in your training.”

“Thanks, Jude!” Garner leapt up, having won at last. Or so he thought.

Jude knew better. Garner had no idea of the realities of the world he was trying to enter. No idea at all.

But when Garner opened the door of Jude’s office, the scent of Theresa Black wafted in. God. Jude almost banged his head on his desk. A screwed-up night, and now the most enticing morsel he’d encountered in at least fifty years was out there in his extra room, close enough to …

No.

He forced himself to look at the wall map, but two pins did not a pattern make, and he knew he was fooling himself, thinking he could gain a thing by pondering two locations.

Sometimes he hated his belated development of a conscience. Sometimes he hated his self-imposed exile.

It was several centuries too late to start thinking that he could use a hobby of some kind to fill hours.

Damn, he hated it when a night got messed up.

A couple of minutes later, Jude stood just inside his office, the door ajar, listening. He knew he was being a damn fool, maybe a double-damned fool, but that woman’s scent kept drawing him.

“Your boss is a strange man.”

Jude smelled Chloe bristle, heard it in her voice. Despite all the instincts that were urging him to walk in there and take what he wanted, he had to smile faintly. Chloe couldn’t have been more protective of him if she’d been his own mother. In fact, come to think of it, his own mother hadn’t cared that much.

Chloe said, “That’s a nice thing to say about a guy who just saved your life.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. Just that he’s … different.”

“We’re all different in some way. Jude gets pretty intense when he’s working a tough case.”

“Okay.” Theresa sighed. “Sorry. But Jude is a little, well, overwhelming. It was kind of weird the way he made those guys leave. And then he moved so fast!”

Chloe responded easily, even as her fingers typed rapidly at the keyboard, no doubt researching Terri’s assailant. “He’s a sprinter. Or was.”

Good lie, Chloe. Sometimes he thought Chloe would lie under oath to protect him. He hoped they never had to find out.

“I guess that would explain it.”

“You need to talk?”

“I’m just trying to absorb it all.” Theresa laughed uneasily. “I moved from one near rape to another in a matter of a few minutes, then your avenger boss came out of nowhere and cowed those guys as if … as if by magic.”

“It’s his confidence,” Chloe said. “Most cowards won’t take on a man who knows he can take them out.”

“Really? There were four of them.” And she sounded awfully dubious. He couldn’t blame her.

“And Jude knows all the martial arts. He’d have had them all flat on their faces before you could blink.”

“Oh.” Theresa didn’t sound as if she quite believed it.

Well, not all the martial arts, Jude thought, mildly amused. His inhuman speed had a lot to do with it.

“Look,” Chloe said after a minute, “you don’t have to worry about Jude. I’ve worked with him for four years now, and I can promise you he’s one of the good guys.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Yeah, he has his moods. He can get impatient. He hates it when his night gets messed up. He even gets crabby and short-tempered at times. You know, like the rest of us.”

At that Theresa gave a small laugh. “Okay. It’s just … I’m sorry. He’s your boss and you like him.”

“Just what?”

“Well, somehow he feels different. I can’t explain it.”

“He is different,” Chloe said. “If this were a comic book, he’d probably be one of the super-heroes.”

He really needed to tell Chloe not to go over the top like that. That was downright embarrassing.

Theresa spoke again. “What’s he going to do with the information about the guy who tried to attack me in his car?”

“Well, if the cops don’t have enough to arrest him, I suspect Jude will pay him a visit and convince him to forget he ever met you.”

Too close to the truth, Chloe. Watch it.

“How is that going to help? It’ll probably just make the guy madder.”

“Trust me,” Chloe said, “when Jude puts the fear of God into someone, it sticks.”

Terri asked for the restroom and Chloe offered to show the way.

Jude had fully opened the door of his office when Chloe emerged from the hallway to the rest room. She saw him and glared at him, obviously annoyed that he’d been eavesdropping.

Not that he cared. He jerked his head toward his office, then went inside to wait. And Chloe, of course, made him wait. She must have filled the teakettle and put it on the stove before she meandered his way. Chloe drank tea as if it were the staff of life.

“Close the door,” he said.

“Eavesdroppers rarely hear anything good.” She sniffed as she closed the door.

“I’m glad I listened. You need to avoid making me sound like Superman.”

Chloe shrugged. “I gotta explain it somehow, boss. You keep doing these little things that make people suspicious.”

“Only when I have no choice.”

“Choice or not, that woman is observant. Scared as she was, she noticed things. So how do you want me to explain it? Oh, my boss is a vampire?”

He glared at her.

She glared back.

“Just watch it,” he said finally.

“If you watch it better, I can watch it better.” Chloe sniffed yet again, evincing worlds of disapproval. “You ought to be grateful I’m such an inventive liar.”

With that she pointed at the clock wordlessly, then walked out.

Jude stared at the closed door, and finally gave in to a grin. It was too damn bad Chloe wasn’t his type.

Then, gauging his time, he decided he could at least escort Terri and Chloe to the nearest precinct station and get the process rolling before he’d need to hurry back here.

More time with that woman and her narcotic scent. He needed to have his head examined.

Chapter 2

An hour before dawn, even police stations experienced a lull. While hospitals were in their most critical hours, the rest of the city, including the criminal element, was finally sinking into sleep.

Well, it was a relative lull, anyway. Jude accompanied Theresa, who looked singularly unhappy, and Chloe, who looked as if she were enjoying this change of pace, into the station and up to the desk sergeant. As a PI, he wasn’t entirely unknown in some of the precincts, though seldom was his arrival truly welcome.

Sgt. Davies knew him, though, and greeted him pleasantly enough, though not exactly warmly.

“Ms. Black,” Jude explained, “needs to file a report. She was attacked twice tonight down near Mason and Crick, and I witnessed the second attack.”

Davies’s eyes leapt to Terri as Jude indicated her with a wave of his hand. “Twice? Crap.” Then he looked at Jude. “And I suppose you’re in your usual rush?”

Jude frowned at him. “All I can do is confirm part of her story. And I do have an urgent case.”

“You always have an urgent case.” Davies sighed. “Well, you’re in luck. I’ll get you to Detective Matthews. She always seems to have time for you.”

Not entirely the detective’s own choice, thought Jude with grim satisfaction. He’d implanted a suggestion four years ago, and occasionally reinforced it. And he certainly found it useful to have an ally of sorts within the police.

In less than five minutes they were in the Robbery-Homicide squad room, although the case would probably be better handled by the sex crimes unit. Regardless, Matthews never refused to see Jude.

She was a tall woman of about forty with a no-nonsense air and short gray-flecked hair. Attractive, but in a subdued way. She chose not to flaunt.

The squad room was even more quiet than the rest of the station because those on shift were out on cases that had occurred tonight, and the rest were doing what mortals do at that hour: sleeping at home.

“Okay,” Matthews asked. “What happened?”

Once again Terri seemed reluctant, so Jude plunged into describing what he knew, and giving a description of the four thugs who had surrounded her. And he was starting to get impatient because the prickling on the back of his neck had begun to grow uncomfortable. He glanced at the large wall clock across the room. Forty-five minutes and he had to be home. Period.

Matthews took Terri’s personal information, then asked her, “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a forensic pathologist. I just started working at the M.E.’s office last week. And, Detective, I can’t be late for my shift.”

A forensic pathologist? Hot damn, Jude thought. A contact of that kind could be extremely useful.

Matthews smiled at Terri. “I’ll be as quick as I can, but I think the M.E. would be understanding if you’re a little late because you’re a material witness.”

“Maybe. I’m so new, though.”

Pat Matthews’s eyes softened. “Honey, I know it’s awful. All of it. But you’ve got to help us get these cruds off the street. You wouldn’t want to be responsible for it happening to someone else, would you?”

Terri shook her head and straightened her shoulders. “No, of course not. Except I don’t have any evidence to offer. Other than that I stabbed Sam with a pen. I can’t prove he attacked me. Or that those other guys wanted to.”

“I understand. We may not be able to do anything immediately, but having your statement on file could help us in the future.”

Terri nodded. “All right then.”

Jude stood and started pacing. Night was drawing to a close, and being this far away from his lair at this time always made him uncomfortable, even when he knew for a fact that he could make it back in time.

Finally as the minutes ticked by, with Terri telling her story in detail and Chloe offering the information she had gathered on the Sam guy, he could take it no longer. It wasn’t as if he absolutely had to be here, a situation which would help him overcome his growing discomfort. No, he was basically a fifth wheel, and he’d already told Matthews everything he knew.

“I’ve got to go. If you need me to sign anything or answer any more questions, I can come back tonight.”

The detective hesitated only a moment. “All right. I’ll let Chloe know if I need more.”

“Thanks. Good night. Oh, Chloe? I’ll leave you the car.” He tossed her the keys and strode out.

Twenty minutes later, back at his office, he locked his own office door, three dead bolts and a key-code entry. But his bedroom was something else. Getting it built without arousing interest or suspicion or creating talk had been quite an achievement.

It was basically an oversize vault, with a time lock that would not open until after sunset unless he opened it from the inside. The room itself had been decorated to look like an ordinary bedroom, in case someone happened on it when it was unlocked. But since he was nearly defenseless in the sleep of death, the price of this kind of protection hadn’t mattered. Not since the night forty years ago when he had been discovered in sleep by accident and had awakened in a morgue with a tag around his toe.

Once he was locked in his vault, however, the building could burn down around him, a bomb could fall, and nobody would get in. At least not before he woke up and was ready to emerge, in charge of himself and the situation.

Quite an improvement over a few hundred years ago.

He had even managed to make it a little homey, while revealing nothing about himself. Not that he spent much waking time in here.

It was, really, a crypt and he knew it. Occasionally, he fantasized about being able to share it with someone, but he knew that would never happen. He’d never turn anyone into what he was, and no human could ever endure this life for long.

Not even Chloe, who had, for a while, had a crush on him. He’d saved her, too, one dark night, and like a puppy she had followed him home. And she had noticed enough during that awful scene to figure out what he was.

Amazing. Most humans wouldn’t believe it even when they saw it, not these days. They always thought it must be some gag. Or that they were imagining things, because everyone knew vampires were myth.

Except Chloe, and a few others he trusted just enough. And most of those others … well, he would bet most thought he was just a member of a vampire cult, the way they were. He doubted many of them thought he was the real thing.

He felt the sun’s rising, though he could not see it. It prickled along the back of his neck, and told him it was time. He stripped quickly and slipped between silk sheets. Not because he would be aware of anything between now and sunset, but because when he awoke he wanted to be comfortable.

His head hit the pillow. The prickling strengthened. And then with a sigh, he died.

“God, he’s weird,” Matthews said after Jude departed. “He always tears out of here like he has a rocket on his tail, especially in the early morning.”

“He can’t help it,” Chloe said. “He’s got a disease.”

Matthews arched her brows. “What disease?”

“I can’t remember what it’s called. He can’t get into bright light, especially sunlight. Blisters, burns … why can’t I ever remember what it’s called?”

“Oh, come on,” Matthews said.

“No,” Terri offered. “It’s called xeroderma pigmentosum. Rare but real.” She looked at Chloe. “That’s awful. I can’t imagine living with that.”

Chloe gave a little shrug. “He seems to have adapted pretty well.”

Matthews still looked doubtful. “That’s a real disease? How fast can he burn?”

“Probably with just a few seconds of exposure he’d have the kind of sunburn that would put most people in the hospital,” Terri said. “Most people with it don’t survive long, because even fluorescent lighting can cause burns in some cases. Given how little people know about the disease, it’s a miracle he’s still alive.”

“Well, that would explain why he’s so pale,” Matthews commented. “Imagine never seeing the sun. So you learned about it in medical school?”

“Actually,” Terri said, “I learned about it during an investigation when I was a pathology resident. We had a case the police thought for sure was murder, the kid was so severely burned. The first assumption was that one of his parents must have literally boiled him alive. But there was no evidence of assault, nor were the burns anywhere near as severe where his clothes were thick, like his diaper.”

“Oh, ugh,” said Chloe.

“But the pathologist I was training with did some genetic testing, when the parents insisted all they had done was take the baby to a lakeside picnic. Anyway, he found the markers.”

“And it killed the kid?” Matthews sounded amazed.

“Every bit of exposed skin was blistered. The most exposed areas even exhibited third-degree burns. Most people have milder cases than that baby, but yes, when you’ve got an extreme case, even a tiny bit of sun can kill you.”

“Live and learn.” Matthews shook her head. “Okay, to get back to your case. I doubt we can arrest Sam Carlisle for anything, unless you have some kind of injury yourself?”

Terri shook her head. “It all happened so fast. Honestly. If I have any bruises, I’ll find out during the day. He did grab my arm awfully tight, but I don’t bruise easily.”

Matthews nodded sympathetically. “I’ll do a background on him and see if anyone else has ever had trouble with him. But without some physical evidence, it’ll be hard.”

“I know. Jude just thought I should report it.”

“He’s right. You should, and you did. I’ll type up your statement and you can sign it later, okay? In the meantime you probably need to go home, shower, sleep a little and get ready for your shift.”

Terri managed a smile. “Thank you, Detective.”

Pat Matthews shrugged. “Look at it this way—if the creep comes in to file a complaint against you for stabbing him with that pen, you’re covered. We won’t listen very hard.”

“I didn’t even think of that.”

“And as for those other creeps Jude scared off, well, if they try it on someone else, your statement will back the victim up. Can you come back after your shift to look at some mug shots?”

“Sure. It was dark, though.”

“You never know. You might recognize someone. It’s worth a shot.” She looked at Chloe. “And tell that boss of yours I want him to look at the mug shots, too.”

“I will,” Chloe answered as she stood. Then she turned to Terri. “Come by the office tomorrow when you get off work, and I’ll bring you back to look at those mug shots. Now let me drive you home. You’re not the only one who needs a shower and bed. It’s been a long night.”

Not even a cup of herbal tea helped Terri relax into sleep. Too much had happened in the hours just past, and her mind and emotions struggled to cope with them. Attempted rape, not once but twice. She’d stabbed a man. Every time she remembered that, the way it had felt, the realization of what she had done, she shuddered again.

Nor did it help that she had to get to work around ten. The idea of only a couple of hours of sleep seemed to make it harder yet to close her eyes.

And then there was Jude Messenger, private investigator. Eyes as dark as the night he had emerged from, turning an odd shade of dark gold when he stepped into the light. A man only slightly taller than average, but somehow seeming much, much larger. That voice of his when he’d told those men to go. If she hadn’t been paralyzed with fright, she probably would have obeyed that order herself.

The incredible speed with which he had approached her, so fast it had almost seemed he was there picking her up before she had seen him move. But of course that was impossible. Absolutely impossible. Her recollections must be marred by the fear that had been raging in her. The adrenaline.

The man had rescued her, yet he had left her feeling supremely uneasy, anyway. And she couldn’t really understand why. His office was normal enough. His assistant Chloe was perfectly normal. Even Garner, that handsome young man, had seemed typical, even though she got the impression Jude considered him to be some kind of plague.

So what was it about Jude Messenger?

She lay on her side, keeping the locked door in sight, making sure that even if she shut her eyes, they would open trained on the only place from which a threat could come.

Somehow she couldn’t feel safe. Was she really worried that Sam might carry out his threat to kill her? Or was it just a holdover from the earlier hours? She didn’t even want to turn off the small lamp by the bed, although sunlight had long since begun peeking around the edges of the curtained window above the bed.

And the feeling she had right now reminded her all too much of her childhood, when fear had kept her awake countless nights, fear of something she could not see, could only sense and finally, to her horror, hear. The haunting. But this was different. Surely?

Yet, in some way she felt as if she had brushed up against that evil again during the past night.

A shudder passed through her, and she forced herself to breathe deeply and slowly, calming herself. That evil had been gone from her life for sixteen years now. There was absolutely no reason to think she’d ever encounter it again.

But her thoughts refused to be entirely corralled and kept returning to Jude. He, too, made her uneasy. He might be a little … different, but he had saved her from those beasts, and had brought her to a safe place where Chloe had become an instant friend. Then he had even gone so far as to accompany her to the police.

So what was it about him? She had to admit that along with the uneasiness he made her feel, she also found him undeniably attractive. Maybe thirty, she thought. Maybe a bit older. Something in his eyes, when they turned golden, made her think he was older.