Claim the Night

He was definitely handsome. No, not exactly that. Good-looking, yes, but he was even more attractive in another way. Something visceral in her responded to him. Maybe that was what made her so uneasy.

It had been a long time, a decade or more, since simply seeing a man had been enough to make her aware of fluttery, eager femininity. Of desire. And she’d been aware of it every single second in his presence, despite everything that had been happening.

Pretty amazing, actually, but pretty unnerving, too. Even his gruffness and impatience hadn’t put an end to it.

She closed her eyes and gave up, hugging the unexpected, nearly forgotten feeling somewhere deep inside. No one would ever know, and it was nice to realize she could still feel that way. At twenty-nine, she had thought she would no longer feel those things. Too many other things, adult things, kept getting in the way.

But somehow the mere sight of Jude Messenger had swept away the layers of the years and made her young enough in some way to just respond to man’s appearance and voice, and get a thrill from it.

Kind of neat, actually, now that she had figured it out.

Satisfied she had identified the source of at least part of her uneasiness, she curled more comfortably on the bed and finally let sleep crawl closer.

Surely her uneasiness had nothing to do with that haunting when she was a child, no matter how it felt. How could it? It had been so long ago.

No, of course that had nothing to do with it. She was just feeling uneasy because it had been so long since she’d felt such a powerful attraction. She didn’t want that now, didn’t have time for it.

All in all, though, it had been one heck of a night. And at last her eyes fluttered closed.

The Medical Examiner, Steve Crepo, sent Terri home a little early when he heard the reason for her obvious fatigue. Her usual shift ran from ten to eight four days a week, with a brief lunch break. “You should have just called in and explained,” he told her.

“I’m the newbie. Besides, honestly, I didn’t want to spend all day thinking about last night.”

He nodded understandingly over his half-rimmed eyeglasses. A little plump and balding, he had a kindly face which belied the strict way he ran the M.E.’s office. He did have the somewhat disconcerting habit of treating the cadavers as if they might still be alive, and referring to them by name rather than number. It was almost as if he saw himself running a surgical suite rather than a morgue.

In one way Terri liked that about him. In another she found it discomfiting, because his idiosyncrasy had already begun to chip away that carefully trained distance she had been taught to place between herself and the dead. She found herself on guard, for fear she might lose objectivity.

Although there were inevitably cases where objectivity went out the window, terrible cases, mostly those involving small children. Then anger and horror often overrode all self-protective mechanisms.

“I understand,” he told her now. “But remember, if you’re overtired, you can make mistakes. We can’t have that.”

“No, sir.”

He smiled. “So go home and rest up. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

She showered and changed back into street clothes before leaving, washing the smell of death out of her very pores. That odor clung and sometimes she wasn’t sure that even three shampooings got it all out of her hair.

Outside the sun hadn’t quite yet set, and that for some reason made her think of Jude Messenger. A man confined to the hours of darkness, who had nevertheless managed to cobble together a useful life, and even, apparently, some very loyal friends, to judge by Chloe.

Remembering Chloe’s promise to accompany her to look at mug shots, and feeling an oddly strong compulsion to follow through even though she was exhausted, she got off the bus near Jude’s office and rang the bell.

Chloe’s voice greeted her. “Messenger Investigations.”

“Hi, Chloe, it’s Terri Black.”

“Hey, Terri. Come on in.”

She walked down the now-familiar dark hallway as Chloe opened the door and leaned out.

“How are you doing?” Chloe asked.

“I’m tired but fine. I guess we should go to the precinct and look at mug shots, but I can barely see straight.”

Chloe laughed, inviting her in, then closing the door behind them. “I slept most of the day,” she volunteered. “Jude’s not going with us. Says he’ll get to it later. Did you want to see him, too?”

Terri hesitated. “I guess. I never really thanked him.”

“He’s not real big on the gratitude thing. Sort of like the Lone Ranger, you know? ‘Who was that masked man?’”

Terri laughed. “You make him sound like a superhero.”

Chloe started to giggle again, but at that moment her eyes widened a shade. “Hi, Jude. Sleep well?”

Theresa turned to find Jude Messenger standing in the doorway of his office, a study in chiaroscuro, all black and white from his hair to his boots. His eyes were dark again, and she realized the last of the daylight had vanished, leaving only the low light of a couple of small lamps. Her heart thumped, and she felt that magnetic pull once more. How could she have forgotten how good a man could look? Especially in black slacks and a very nicely tailored black shirt.

“Like the dead,” he answered, sounding almost sarcastic. “Didn’t I tell you to stop trying to turn me into Superman?”

Chloe sniffed. “I’m just saying I like the kinds of things you do. They make me feel good about our business.”

He gave a little shake of his head, as if he knew he wasn’t going to win this argument with Chloe. “Did Garner show up?”

“Not yet. Was he supposed to?”

“Around sunset.”

“Well, he’s not that late then.”

Jude crossed the room, pulled a wooden chair away from the wall and straddled it, facing the two women from a few feet away. He folded his arms across its back. “I need to take care of that guy so Dr. Black here doesn’t have to worry about him. And I have that other case. I was hoping Garner would show up first.”

“He’ll probably be here any minute. Why? Is he working for us now? You usually groan when you hear his name.”

“I may groan again before too long.”

Those dark eyes settled on Theresa, and she felt her skin prickle. Awareness? Or something else? She couldn’t tell.

“How are you feeling, Dr. Black?”

“Just call me Terri. I’m fine, thank you. And I doubt you need to do anything about Sam.” Although she had to admit she wasn’t one hundred percent sure of that, given that she had stabbed him. He might well be the kind to want to get even. How would she know? She’d certainly looked at enough women on the autopsy table who had misjudged a man’s thirst for vengeance.

“Yes, I do.” His tone brooked no argument. “What’s his full name again?”

“Samuel Carlisle,” Chloe answered promptly. She pulled out a drawer in her desk and retrieved a file. “Everything I could find on him from what Terri told me.”

Theresa was amazed. She hadn’t expected Chloe to go to all that trouble. After all, even the police had only wanted the basics.

But Jude opened the file and began reading, and apparently it was more than just name and address. “Hmm,” he said finally.

“Hmm?” Theresa asked.

Those dark eyes lifted to her again. Hunter’s eyes, she thought, wondering why she almost felt like a mouse staring down a hawk.

“Hmm,” he repeated.

“That means ‘not good,’” Chloe interpreted.

“Not good how?”

Jude tossed the file and it landed on Chloe’s desk. “I’m going to have a very interesting talk with Samuel Carlisle.”

“Why?” Her heart fluttered a little, because she didn’t like the dark tone in his voice.

“Because he needs one.”

Theresa looked at Chloe, begging with her eyes for an explanation.

Chloe glanced at Jude. Jude shrugged, as if he didn’t care. Chloe turned back to her. “Because your friend Sam has been investigated for date rape before. He’s on the street only because the woman withdrew her complaint.”

“Oh, my God!” Terri’s hand clapped to her mouth, and for an instant she wondered if the remains of her lunch were going to come up. “Oh, my God.”

“God has nothing to do with it,” Jude said grimly. His eyes seemed to have grown even darker. He pushed himself out of the chair and looked down at Theresa. “You were lucky. Last time the woman claimed he used Rohypnol.”

The date rape drug. Theresa sat frozen, her stomach churning, remembering last night. He’d bought her a drink. A drink she hadn’t wanted. One he kept insisting she enjoy until finally, when he was distracted, she’d dumped most of it on the floor behind her chair. “Oh, God,” she whispered. “I didn’t drink it. I dumped it.”

Chloe jumped up from her chair and came around her desk to put a hand on Theresa’s shoulder. “Jude will take care of him. He’ll never dare come near you again.”

“But … the cops will find out the same thing you did. Won’t they take care of it?”

Chloe answered, “Not the way Jude will.”

The words hardly registered, because another feeling washed over her, one of sheer fury. “I wish I’d stabbed that pen into his heart!”

Surprisingly, a laugh issued from Jude. She looked at him, unable to understand what was so funny. “I mean it!”

“I know.” The brief laugh disappeared from his face. “Hell.” He sighed.

“Jude,” Chloe said warningly.

He glared at her, an expression that Terri was sure would have made her sink to the floor in a quivering puddle. The man looked capable of mur der.

“I’ll deal with him.”

“But how?” Terri demanded. “How can you?”

His dark gaze returned to her, nearly pinning her. “First,” he said slowly, very quietly, “I am going to ensure he never so much as thinks about coming near you again. Unlike the police, I can use threats. Okay?”

Terri managed a jerky nod.

Jude’s attention returned to Chloe. “She doesn’t leave here until I get back or call and say it’s okay. Got it?”

Chloe nodded. “You can count on me.”

“And if Master Garner ever drags his behind in here, nail his feet to the floor until I say otherwise. I mean it, Chloe. Don’t let him go running out. I swear that kid has a death wish.”

On that grumpy statement, Jude disappeared into his office only to return a moment later wearing his long leather coat.

He paused just long enough to pick up Sam’s photo, then look at Terri and say, “Stay. I mean it. This guy is bigger trouble than I originally suspected.”

She didn’t think she could have moved to save her life.

And only when he left the room did she feel she could breathe again.

Once he was in his battered car, Jude took a moment to clear his head, nose and lungs of Terri’s scent. God in heaven, that woman’s scent was like a drug. Being in the same room with her was enough to drive him nuts. In no time flat she pushed him to the edges of self-control in a way he hadn’t experienced in at least fifty or so years.

The Hunger raged in him, but that alone wouldn’t have put him so much on edge. No, it was the desire he felt for her, pounding and strong, stronger than any he had ever felt as a man, stronger than any he had ever felt as an immortal. The feeling was so powerful that it could have turned him into the kind of creep he was about to go see.

Breathing deeply, he battered the insanity back into the buried, darkest places of his being. The places he had vowed never to visit again.

Madness was no longer welcome in his world.

But certain forms of vengeance were.

Chapter 3

As Jude had suspected, Samuel Carlisle was in no mood to paint the town that night, not after having been stabbed just the night before. Whether or not he had been visited by the cops, and Jude strongly suspected he hadn’t, he undoubtedly thought by now that he was safe. Little did he know.

So there he was, opening his own door, looking sour and saying before Jude could speak, “I don’t want any.”

“You’re going to get it, anyway,” Jude replied, his smile glacial. With a shove, one that required very little effort for him, he pushed the door hard enough to make it slam all the way open. At once Sam started backing up. Fear entered his gaze. “I’ll call the cops, man. You better get out.”

Jude’s smile widened. “No, you won’t call any one.” The Voice.

It froze Sam in his tracks as Jude entered the apartment and closed the door. “We need to have a talk.”

“About what?” Sam’s defiance was rising again, and he started edging toward a phone on the coffee table.

“Stop.”

Sam froze again. Jude closed the distance between them, caught Sam under his chin with one hand and lifted him off the floor. Sam stared wildly at him, but didn’t try to fight.

“Look into my eyes,” Jude ordered.

Sam obeyed, not really having any choice at the moment. Jude shoved him up against a wall so he wouldn’t strangle the guy. Although he was tempted. So very tempted.

“Listen to me.”

Sam stared in hypnotic horror.

“You will not ever go anywhere near Theresa Black again. Do I make myself clear?”

A small nod.

“You will not ever attempt to rape another woman.”

“No.” A squeak.

“Because if you ever again attempt to use Rohypnol on anyone, if you ever again attempt to take a woman without her express and freely given permission, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth and rip out your throat. Are we clear?”

“Yeah.”

“In fact, let me take this one step further. If you ever, ever even so much as think of using Rohypnol or force again, you are going to walk yourself to the nearest police station and turn yourself in. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

“Failing that, you’re going to jump off the highest building you can find. Because if I have to come after you, you will wish you had never been born. Understood?”

A croaky yes answered him.

Jude held the man’s gaze, making sure the suggestions had taken solid root. Then for good measure he added, “You will forget Theresa Black. You never met her. You never talked to her. You never knew her and you will head the other way if you ever see her.”

“I … don’t … know her.”

Jude let go and watched the man collapse to the floor. Then he squatted and lifted Sam’s chin with one finger until the man had to look at him again.

“I am your worst nightmare,” Jude said. “Forget last night. Remember my directions.”

“Yesss …”

“Remember me.”

Sam’s eyes closed.

Satisfied, Jude stood and walked out of the apartment, closing the door behind him.

Well, not one hundred percent satisfied. He would have cheerfully drained the guy dry, to ensure he would never threaten anyone again, but in these days of modern forensics and advanced detection, he couldn’t leave a blood trail behind him. Ever.

And he was fairly certain his suggestions about never doing this again would wear off eventually. Yes, the guy would avoid Theresa, because she was specific. But the more general threat, well, his compulsions would eventually start to win out against it.

And eventually Jude would have to come for him again.

In some ways, life had been easier a century or two ago. In others, less so. Frankly, sometimes he wasn’t sure which was better.

But one thing was constant, and that was evil. True evil.

Outside, after he was in his car, he flipped open his phone and called Chloe. She answered on the first ring, knowing it was him because she insisted on having caller ID.

“Hi,” she said. And for once she didn’t sound cheerful.

His instincts kicked into high gear, but first things first. “Tell Terri it’s safe to go home. Did Garner get there?”

“Uh … boss?”

“What?”

“I think you’d better come back.”

“I have another job, remember?”

“I think,” Chloe repeated evenly, “that you’d better get back here now.”

“Is anyone bleeding?”

“Not yet. But Garner may be soon.”

“What did he do?”

“Jude,” she said, this time almost shrieking, “just get back here now!”

That did it. His tires barely hit the pavement on the way back.

He burst into his business suite to find Chloe standing in front of the closed door of his inner office and Garner trying to vanish into the far corner.

“I just went to the bathroom,” Chloe said at the same time Garner protested, “I thought she knew!”

And in an instant, he guessed what had happened. “Where’s Terri?”

“Locked in your office,” Chloe said, staring daggers at Garner. “That damn fool told her. Told her!”

“I thought she knew!”

Jude shook his head as if to loosen something. Astonishment nearly overwhelmed him. “She believed it?”

“She not only believed it, she locked herself in your office. I had to cut the phones off in there.”

He reflected for a bare instant that he was glad he’d insisted on that feature so he couldn’t be disturbed when he wanted total privacy.

“She’s threatening to call the cops,” Chloe said.

“They won’t believe her.”

“Who cares?” Chloe threw up her hand. “Who cares if they believe her. She believes it, she won’t come out, she’s terrified and hysterical and who knows what she’ll find in your desk or … Tell me you locked the fridge.”

She was almost pleading.

“I put all that stuff in my bedroom. It’s locked.”

A puff of breath escaped Chloe and she sagged. “Thank goodness.” Then she turned on Garner. “I swear I’m going to cut you into little pieces and feed you to my fish, you idiot!”

Garner’s eyes were huge. “I’ll tell her I was making it up.”

“She’s obviously not going to believe that now, you turkey! She saw some things last night. I had it all explained, and then you, you …”

“Calm down,” Jude said. “Just calm the hell down and let me think.”

He knew he could get into his office, locked or not. He had the code, after all, and the key card. But he wasn’t sure that would be wise, at least not yet.

He looked at Chloe again. “She really believed it?”

“Well, I don’t think she locked herself in your office because she thought Garner was telling a tall tale. And she certainly didn’t try to call the cops because she thought she was hearing the new and updated version of Grimm’s Fairy Tales.”

Garner dared to clear his throat. “You can make her forget.”

Jude merely looked at him. “She didn’t exactly respond to the Voice last night.”

“Oh.”

No, when he’d told those guys to leave, there was no reason Terri shouldn’t have attempted to follow the order. He’d expected to have to go after her. Instead she had just stood there. Which meant … Well, it might well mean he couldn’t vamp her at all. He didn’t know, and frankly he didn’t want to try. It was a kind of violation he preferred not to inflict on innocent people.

However … He sighed and sat beside Chloe’s desk, drumming his fingers and looking at Garner. The young man seemed to shrink.

“I have to get in there by dawn,” he remarked.

Garner nodded violently, as if by emphasizing his agreement he could salvage something.

“And then there’s the job I’m not getting done.”

Garner gulped.

“And of course the matter of a needlessly terrified woman.”

Chloe spoke. “Like I said, he’s an idiot!”

Jude frowned at her. Not that he disagreed, it was just that such statements were pointless. That was one of the things he’d managed to learn in over two hundred years.

Although occasionally he indulged in them himself.

“Garner?”

“Yes, sir?”

Oh, now he was sir. “You give me a headache. I haven’t had a headache since I died, but you’ve man aged to give me a headache.”

“Sorry.”

Chloe glared at Garner. “Fish food,” she said.

“I thought she knew.”

Chloe folded her arms. “Blabbing confidential information just because you think someone knows makes you untrustworthy, you dweeb. And you want to work with us? Hah!”

“I’ll find a way to make it up, I swear.”

“Too little too late, you dummy.”

“Enough,” Jude said. “Grinding him under your heel isn’t going to fix this.”

“I’ll try to talk to her,” Garner said. “I think I can convince her I was making up a story.”

Chloe sniffed. “Oh, yeah, you’re so persuasive.”

“Well, she believed me before!”

“When you were telling her the truth.”

“Stop it,” Jude said again. “Just stop it. I’ll have to deal with this somehow, but I think a whole lot better when people aren’t arguing.”

The two of them fell silent at last. He gave an impatient huff of his own and started drumming his fingers again. “How long has she been in there?”

“Almost half an hour,” Chloe said. “I tried to talk her out.”

“Okay. Give her a little longer. At some point she’s going to start wearing down and then I’ll go in.”

“Maybe I should go in with you,” Chloe said.

“At this point I don’t think she’ll trust you too much, either. You’re such an inventive liar, remember?”

Chloe scowled at him.

He sat motionless, waiting for time to pass, ignoring Chloe and Garner who were tossing glares at each other like ping-pong balls.

Finally, he stood. He had to go in there, and as near as he could determine, there was only one way to handle it.

After swiping his key card, he punched in his code and listened to the dead bolts snap back. Then he walked into his office.

He faced a woman holding a sword in both hands. The hysteria had obviously passed to be replaced by determination and desperation. A lot easier to deal with.

She backed away from him until she could back up no farther. He left the door open, walked to the opposite side of the room and leaned back against the credenza, folding his arms.

“That’s a good sword,” he remarked. “I wore it on parade, even had to use it a few times at Waterloo.”

“Stay away from me.” Her voice trembled with intensity. And she still smelled so tempting.

“I have no intention of getting any closer. I just want to know one thing.”

“What?”

“Why you ran in here instead of running out of the building.”

She froze, biting her lip, then glared at him again. “I was frightened.”

“Well, I can understand that. The door’s open. Run any time you want. No one will stop you. Just, please, leave my sword behind. It’s one of my few keepsakes.”

But she stood there, anyway, legs braced, still waving the sword although her arms must be getting weary. “Is it true?” she demanded.

“Is what true?”

“That you’re a … a …” She apparently couldn’t bring herself to say the word.

“I’m a vampire,” he said, keeping his voice calm, even pleasant. “Yes, it’s true.”

“And you kill people?”

“I haven’t killed anyone in a very long time who didn’t deserve it. I don’t kill just to feed.”

A disbelieving sound escaped her.

He shrugged. “I don’t need much, you know. A blood bank will take more from you than I will.”

Something in her face was changing. Her mouth opened a little. Was he seeing the dawn of curiosity? He hoped so.

“Mostly,” he said, “I buy blood. But I never dine without permission.”

With that her jaw did drop open, and with it the sword lowered. “You’re lying,” she whispered.

“Why would I lie? I just told you I’m a vampire. And you don’t have anything to fear from me. If you did, I’d have fed on you last night. Because let me tell you, Terri, you smell that good to me.”

The sword tip touched the floor, but she still looked ready to bolt. More important, he could see questions starting to swirl behind her eyes. Maybe they could get through this. If not, oh, well. No one would believe she’d met a real vampire, and if she grew too insistent, she might even get herself committed. He hoped she didn’t go that route.