Guilty Pleasures

Malcolm had met with Edward, if it had been Edward, two days before the first death. If that was true, where did that leave things? With Edward a murderer and Malcolm paying him to do it. There was one problem with that. If Edward had wanted me dead, he’d have done it himself. Maybe Malcolm panicked and sent one of his followers to do it? Could be.

I was sitting in a chair against the wall, leafing through a magazine, when the door opened. Malcolm was tall and almost painfully thin, with large, bony hands that belonged to a more muscular man. His short, curly hair was the shocking yellow of goldfinch feathers. This was what blond hair looked like after nearly three hundred years in the dark.

The last time I had seen Malcolm, he had seemed beautiful, perfect. Now he was almost ordinary, like Nikolaos and her scar. Had Jean-Claude given me the ability to see master vampires’ true forms?

Malcolm’s presence filled the small room like invisible water, chilling and pricking along my skin, knee-deep and rising. Give him another nine hundred years, and he might rival Nikolaos. Of course, I wouldn’t be around to test my little theory.

I stood, and he swept into the room. He was dressed modestly in a dark blue suit, pale blue shirt, and blue silk tie. The pale shirt made his eyes look like robin’s eggs. He smiled, angular face, beaming at me. He wasn’t trying to cloud my mind. Malcolm was very good at resisting the urge. His entire credibility rested on the fact that he didn’t cheat.

“Miss Blake, how good to see you.” He didn’t offer to shake hands; he knew better. “Bruce left me a very confused message. Something about the vampire murders?” His voice was deep and soothing, like the ocean.

“I told Bruce I have proof that your church is involved with the vampire murders.”

“And do you?”

“Yes.” I believed it. If he had met with Edward, I had my murderer.

“Hmmm, you are telling the truth. Yet, I know that it is not true.” His voice rolled around me, warm and thick, powerful.

I shook my head. “Cheating, Malcolm, using your powers to probe my mind. Tsk, tsk.”

He shrugged, hands open at his sides. “I control my church, Miss Blake. They would not do what you have accused them of.”

“They raided a freak party last night with clubs. They hurt people.” I was guessing on that part.

He frowned. “There is a small faction of our followers who persist in violence. The freak party, as you call it, is an abomination and must be stopped, but through legal cha

“But do you punish them when they disobey you?” I asked.

“I am not a policeman, or a priest, to mete out punishment. They are not children. They have their own minds.”

“I’ll bet they do.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“It means, Malcolm, that you are a master vampire. None of them can stand against you. They’ll do anything you want them to.”

“I do not use mind powers on my congregation.”

I shook my head. His power oozed over my arms like a cold wave. He wasn’t even trying. It was just spillover. Did he realize what he was doing? Could it actually be an accident?

“You had a meeting two days before the first murder.”

He smiled, careful not to show fangs. “I have many meetings.”

“I know, you are reeal popular, but you’ll remember this meeting. You hired a hit man to kill vampires.” I watched his face, but he was too good. There was a flicker in his eyes, unease maybe; then it was gone, replaced by that shining blue-eyed confidence.

“Miss Blake, why are you looking me in the eyes?”

I shrugged. “If you don’t try to bespell me, it’s safe.”

“I have tried to convince you of that on several occasions, but you always played it…safe. Now you are staring at me; why?” He strode towards me, quick, nearly a blur of motion. My gun was in my hand, no thinking needed. Instinct.

“My,” he said.

I just stared at him, quite willing to put a bullet through his chest if he came one step closer.

“You carry at least the first mark, Miss Blake. Some master vampire has touched you. Who?”

I let out my breath in one long sigh. I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding it. “It’s a long story.”

“I believe you.” He was suddenly standing near the door again, as if he had never moved. Damn, he was good.

“You hired a man to slay the freak vampires,” I said.

“No,” he said, “I did not.”

It is always u

He shrugged. Smiled. “You do not really expect me to do anything but deny that, do you?”

“Guess not.” What the heck, might as well ask. “Are you or your church co

He almost laughed. I didn’t blame him. No one in their right mind would just say yes, but sometimes you can learn things from the way a person denies something. The choice of lies can be almost as helpful as the truth.

“No, Miss Blake.”

“You did hire an assassin.” I made it a statement.

The smile drained from his face, goof. He stared at me, his presence crawling along my skin like insects. “Miss Blake, I believe it is time for you to leave.”

“A man tried to kill me today.”

“That is hardly my fault.”

“He had two vampire bites in his neck.”

Again that flicker in the eyes. Unease? Maybe.

“He was waiting for me outside your church. I was forced to kill him on your steps.” A small lie, but I didn’t want Ro

He was frowning now, a thread of anger like heat oozing through the room. “I am unaware of this, Miss Blake. I will look into it.”

I lowered my gun but didn’t put it away. You can only hold a person at gunpoint so long. If they aren’t afraid, and they aren’t going to hurt you, and you aren’t going to shoot them, it gets rather silly. “Don’t be too hard on Bruce. He doesn’t do well around violence.”

Malcolm straightened, pulling at his suit jacket. A nervous gesture? Oh, boy. I’d hit a nerve.

“I will look into it, Miss Blake. If he was a member of our church, we owe you an extreme apology.”

I stared at him for a minute. What could I say to that? Thank you? It didn’t seem appropriate. “I know you hired a hit man, Malcolm. Not exactly good press for your church. I think you are behind the vampire murders. Your hands may not have spilled the blood, but it was done with your approval.”

“Please, go now, Miss Blake.” He opened the door as he said it.

I walked through, gun still in my hand. “Sure, I’ll go, but I won’t go away.”

He stared down at me, eyes angry. “Do you know what it means to be marked by a master vampire?”

I thought a minute and wasn’t sure how to answer it. Truth. “No.”

He smiled, and it was cold enough to freeze your heart. “You will learn, Miss Blake. If it becomes too much for you, remember our church is here to help.” He closed the door in my face. Softly.

I stared at the door. “And what is that supposed to mean?” I whispered. No one answered me.

I put away my gun and spotted a small door marked “Exit.” I took it. The church was softly lit, candles maybe. Voices rose on the night air, singing. I didn’t recognize the words. The tune was Bringing in the Sheaves. I caught one phrase: “We will live forever, never more to die.”

I hurried to my car and tried not to listen to the song. There was something frightening about all those voices raised skyward, worshipping…what? Themselves? Eternal youth? Blood? What? Another question that I didn’t have an answer to.

Edward was my murderer. The question was, could I turn him over to Nikolaos? Could I turn over a human being to the monsters, even to save myself? Another question that I didn’t have an answer for. Two days ago I would have said no. Now I just didn’t know.