Be Still My Vampire Heart

CHAPTER 10

Emma dragged herself to work Monday evening. After her date with Angus, she'd been unable to sleep well. Each time she dozed off, her mind and body betrayed her and replayed that glorious kiss. Then she'd wake up and refuse to think about it. Instead, she considered the new idea of good Vamps versus the Malcontents. She'd heard Austin say that Shanna Whelan insisted there were two different kinds of vampires, but Emma had dismissed that as brainwashing. Any woman married to a vampire would want to think he was good.

Emma also knew that Austin had befriended one of the female vampires during the taping of the reality show. He must have gone through the same learning process she was going through now. And there was no way Austin had been brainwashed. He had the strongest psychic power ever registered at the CIA.

She wasn't sure what exactly had happened to Austin. She only knew that he and Sean had argued, then Austin quit and Sean blacklisted him from any government job. Ever since then, Sean was suspicious of all of them and more paranoid than ever. When Emma strode into the conference room for the usual seven P.M. meeting, her two fellow team members were already there.

Alyssa frowned at her. "Are you all right?"

With a sigh, she realized she'd done a poor job of covering the dark circles under her eyes. She sat in a chair next to Alyssa. "I haven't been sleeping well."

"Too much partying, huh?" Garrett slurped coffee from a cup that boasted Too Hot to Handle.

While pretty-boy Garrett launched into another chapter of his romantic conquests, Emma tuned him out. She didn't believe half of it, and besides, the last thing she wanted to think about was romance.

Who in their right mind would kiss a vampire? She was lucky she didn't end up with a pierced tongue. And even crazier than that—she'd enjoyed it! Good heavens, what a kiss. Her face burned, just thinking about it.

"Emma," Alyssa whispered. "Are you sure you're not ill? You look awfully flushed."

"I'm… super." She sat up straighter when her boss strode into the room and slammed the door behind him.

Sean Whelan, their team leader, looked even angrier than usual. He marched to the head of the table and set down his laptop. "It's been ten months since my daughter was kidnapped by those vicious demons. Ten months! They've probably drained her dry by now and turned her into one of them."

Not if they drank synthetic blood from bottles like Angus. Emma had been told just the night before that Shanna was happy, but she knew Sean would never believe it. Her friendship with Angus was going to put her in an awkward position at work. This must have been what had happened to Austin. She'd try e-mailing him to see what else he had learned.

"Garrett, I want you to continue watching the Russians," Sean ordered. He turned to Alyssa. "How is your research going on Romatech?"

"Very well," Alyssa answered. "I've learned the names of the vampire employees by running their license plates. I'm unable to go inside, of course, due to their security measures, but last week I successfully hacked into their mainframe."

"Excellent!" Sean leaned forward. "Did you learn anything about Shanna? I need to know where she's living."

Alyssa winced. "There was nothing personal in the files about Draganesti or your daughter. But I did find a list of cities and towns where they're shipping the Vampire Fusion Cuisine. Obviously, those must be locations where vampires exist. I'd like to go investigate."

Emma frowned. Those vampires were all drinking their meals from bottles. They belonged to the good camp, and yet they were the ones ending up on Sean Whelan's database of vampires to be eliminated.

Sean sighed. "All right. But I still want someone watching Romatech. My daughter's been seen there several times. I'm hoping someone can manage to follow her to her new home." Sean glanced at Emma. "Can you take over while Alyssa's out of town?"

"Yes." Although Emma was no longer sure she wanted to find Shanna. What if the woman was truly happy? But how could a marriage work out between a mortal and a vampire?

"Damned bloodsuckers," Sean muttered as he searched through a file on his laptop. As she had many times before, Emma wondered if her boss had been bitten. She'd suspected several times that he must have been the victim of a vampire attack. His hatred was so intense.

She'd considered telling him a few times about her slaying activities. In theory, she knew he would understand. But she also knew how obsessed he was with finding his daughter. He'd be furious that she hadn't interrogated the vampires before killing them.

But how could she? The only way she managed to kill them was to take them by surprise. With a sigh, she realized the point was now moot. It looked like she was going to have to retire from slaying for a while. If what Angus said was true, and the Malcontents were going to hunt in groups, then she needed to take a break.

"Here it is." Sean turned his laptop screen to face them. "I was watching Draganesti's house Friday night and spotted someone new. Anyone recognize this guy?"

The blood drained from Emma's face as she watched the surveillance video. There on the sidewalk, approaching Roman Draganesti's house, was Angus MacKay. That was the first night she'd met him, when she'd thought he was a gorgeous and mysterious human.

If only he were.

"Another Scotsman in a kilt," Alyssa murmured. "Aren't there several living in Draganesti's house?"

"I wouldn't call it living, but yes." Sean pointed at the claymore on Angus's back. "This one is different. He's heavily armed, as you can see."

"He looks like one of the Scottish guys we saw in Central Park," Garrett said. "You know, that night when the Russians vampires were there. I saw a bunch of guys in kilts, but they all look the same to me."

Emma shook her head. How could anyone ever forget meeting Angus MacKay? She watched him on the computer screen as he climbed the steps to Draganesti's townhouse. He paused at the top, looked around, then vanished.

"Whoa," Garrett whispered. "He's definitely a vampire."

Emma sighed. Yes, he was, and if she was smart, she'd stay far away from him. He was much too tempting.

"Well, Wallace? What do you say?"

Emma jumped when she realized Sean was watching her. "Pardon?"

"You watch the vampire Nightly News every night," Sean said. "Ever seen this Scotsman before?"

She carefully kept her face blank. "I've never seen him on the news." That much was true.

Sean crossed his arms. "You've never seen him at all?"

"No." Heat crept into her cheeks. What was she doing? Lying to protect Angus? No, she calmed herself. She was simply protecting herself and her own secret slaying activities. She couldn't talk about Angus without explaining her own business in the park. Sean closed his laptop. "I'm out of patience with these stake-outs. We need to actually do something." He headed to the door. "Go to your assignments for now. I'll let you know what I decide."

Within ten minutes the men were gone. Alyssa was busy at her computer, hacking into Romatech's files. Emma settled at her desk and turned on the television that was rigged to receive the Digital Vampire Network.

At eight, the Nightly News began with Stone Cauffyn droning on in his monotonous voice. Emma watched it each night while she scanned police reports, looking for possible vampire criminal activity.

She tried focusing on the police reports, but the words blurred before her weary eyes.

What was Angus doing tonight? She'd checked her e-mail numerous times, but there'd been no message from him. Was he having second thoughts? Maybe he'd come to his senses and realized, like her, that a relationship between them was doomed. And that hurt.

She turned up the volume on the telly. A commercial was on, selling some sort of exercise DVD, starring the famous Parisian fashion model Simone. It sounded silly to Emma, but one part caught her attention—a warning that the superior lifestyle of the nonbiting Vamp could lead to gum weakness or even fang loss, therefore making exercise a necessity.

The nonbiting Vamp? Here it was—more evidence that Angus was telling the truth, and so-called Vamps no longer fed off humans. Why would DVN lie about it when they believed their audience was made up entirely of the Undead? As far as Emma knew, she was the only human watching DVN, and the vampires didn't know it. So whatever she saw on DVN was probably true.

Two factions—the Vamps and the Malcontents. Why would Angus object to her killing Malcontents, other than his concern for her safety? He had said something about leaving vampire justice to him. Did that mean he killed Malcontents? If he did, why not let her help him? They could be a team.

What was she thinking? She was already on a team. She closed her aching eyes. This was all too confusing. Her loyalties were getting all screwed up.

She refocused on the police reports. There on page two was the news she dreaded the most. A body had been found this morning in Central Park. A woman's body with her throat slashed.

"Shit!" Emma sprung to her feet.

"What's wrong?" Alyssa asked.

"Nothing. I spilled coffee." Emma strode into the kitchen area where she could fume in private. Damn! Another vampire murder. She couldn't just ignore this. Either Angus MacKay was going to help her, or she was going solo. She was not going to let more innocent people die.

She hurried to her laptop to write him an e-mail, but something on the telly caught her attention. Corky Courrant had started her gossip show called Live with the Undead. Half of the screen was taken up with a picture of Roman Draganesti.

Emma turned up the volume.

"Remember, you heard it here first!" Corky screeched in her strident voice. "It's the most miraculous news ever! Roman Draganesti is about to become the first vampire in history to be a father!"

Emma gasped.

"What?" Alyssa came running over.

"Yes!" Corky laughed. "Hard to believe, isn't it? But just look at this exclusive video we obtained last night. Roman and his mortal wife have started going to Mass on Sunday night, and my cameraman caught them as they were arriving."

Emma punched the record button on the television's VCR. If there was news about Shanna, her boss would want to see it.

A video flashed onto the screen, fuzzy at first, then sharpening on a building in the distance. Emma recognized it as Romatech Industries. The cameraman was obviously far away, but he managed to zoom in on the front door as a black car pulled up to the entrance. A youthful-looking, kilted Scotsman climbed out of the driver's seat and opened the car's back door. Roman Draganesti stepped out, and next to him was Shanna Whelan. A huge, very pregnant Shanna Whelan.

Emma's heart leaped. Good heavens! How could such a thing happen? Surely a vampire couldn't father a baby?

"Oh my God," Alyssa whispered.

The video stopped, and Corky reappeared on the screen, grinning. "I know what you're thinking! You're thinking Draganesti couldn't be the father. But he's a scientific genius, the inventor of synthetic blood and Vampire Fusion Cuisine. So, I for one am thoroughly convinced." She waved the camera closer, then whispered, "He is the father."

Emma pressed a hand to her chest. Good God, what was Shanna thinking? Was she having a half-human, half-vampire baby?

With shaky fingers, Emma stopped the recording.

"Oh my God," Alyssa repeated. "Sean is going to go ballistic."

"We have to tell him," Emma said.

Alyssa scoffed. "Don't look at me. He said I could go out of town, and I am out of here."

She rushed to her desk and gathered papers. "He's going to go berserk."

Emma had to agree. How on earth would she break the news?

Never trust anyone or anything. Sean Whelan had learned that the hard way. And when you added vampires with their mind-controlling capabilities into the mix, then anyone could be turned against you. Anyone.

After his daughter's betrayal, Sean had hoped to recapture her by staking out Roman Draganesti's townhouse on the Upper East Side. He'd left a surveillance van parked across the street for the first few weeks, but the damned vampires had caught on. His tires had been slashed, and his surveillance equipment stolen. He'd tried a variety of cars and SUVs, but parking was such a bitch, he couldn't always find a place close enough.

So, eight months ago, he'd rented a small room catty-corner across the street. It was damned expensive, but Homeland Security had gladly footed the bill when he'd explained he was observing a terrorist cell.

He strode into the tiny room and with a swipe of his arm, he cleared a space on the small table for his laptop. Empty take-out containers tumbled onto the floor, and he reminded himself for the jillionth time to take out the trash. Later.

For now, he was anxious to see what the video camera had recorded the night before in his absence. The camera squatted on top of a tripod by the window, its lens carefully positioned to peek between two slats of the blinds. Sean peered out the window.

Draganesti's house was usually quiet this early in the evening, and tonight appeared no different.

He removed the camera's memory card and quickly downloaded Sunday night's recording. Then he inserted a fresh memory card into the camera and pushed record. Back at the table, he settled into a rickety chair and started watching the video from Sunday night. Boring. He pushed fast forward and poured himself a cup of coffee from his thermos. This was so damned boring, and it was getting him nowhere. Shanna could be dead by now.

His cell phone rang, and he flipped it open. "Whelan, here."

"This is Garrett. There's a… problem here in Brooklyn, sir."

With a sigh, Sean rose to his feet and looked out the window. Still no activity outside Draganesti's house. "What kind of problem?"

"Our bugs inside the Russian coven were destroyed."

"Dammit." Sean paced across the room. "Is the van all right, and our surveillance equipment?"

"I'm in the van now. Everything's fine, but all I get is static from the Russian house."

Sean muttered another curse. "You need to get back in. Plant some more bugs."

"That's kinda hard when the place is crawling with mafia thugs during the day."

"Is that my problem?" Sean snarled. "When did they discover the bugs? Did you get any recordings at all for the weekend?"

"Yes, I've been listening to them. The bugs went dead on Saturday night, right after Katya received a visitor. Some guy from Poland."

"Did you get his name?"

"Yeah. He introduced himself, said he was a friend of some guy named Casimir who was unhappy with Katya for killing Ivan Petrovsky. Then he said she needed to find the slayer or she was toast."

Sean walked back to his chair. "Slayer? What slayer?"

"I don't know. It seems that some vampire dude's been killing off some of the Russian vampires."

"That's good."

"Yeah." Garrett laughed. "I wish they'd all kill each other off. Anyway, it looks like this Janow dude will kill Katya if she doesn't deliver the slayer."

Sean froze. "What? Did you say—" His throat constricted. He couldn't say the name.

"Who—who did you say he was?"

"Jedrek Janow. Some Polish dude."

The phone tumbled from Sean's hand and clattered on the floor. He collapsed into the chair. Sweat popped out onto Sean's brow, and a stabbing pain pierced his gut. The bastard was back. The one who had wreaked revenge on Sean after he'd killed a vampire in Russia. The bastard hadn't attacked Sean. No, he was too cruel and sick for that. Sean doubled over as the pain wrenched his gut. He covered his face to shut out the memory. Poor Darlene. How could he forgive himself? He'd controlled his wife's mind for so many years. Just to help her, of course. To help her adjust to living overseas, so she could be happy. It had been for her own good, but it had left her brain so easy to manipulate, to control.

Jedrek Janow had discovered her weakness. He'd called her to him, and like a robot, she had complied. Then Jedrek had delivered her back, naked and so drained of blood, she'd barely been alive. Thank God she'd recovered and had no memory of that hideous night. But Sean remembered. He remembered every damned day.

Slowly he became aware that Garrett's voice was yelling on the phone. With a shaky hand, he picked up the phone. "Yes?"

"Sean, are you okay?"

"I—no." He glanced at the video still going in fast forward on his laptop. A black four-door sedan stopped in front of Draganesti's house. "Just a minute." He slowed the recording down.

Two kilted Scotsmen emerged from the front seat of the car. They peered around the neighborhood, then opened the back doors. On the street side, Roman Draganesti climbed out.

"Bastard," Sean growled.

"Who, me?" Garrett asked. "Hey, I'm sorry about the bugs, but—"

"Quiet." Sean leaned forward to watch the second person emerge from the car onto the street. Whoever it was, he appeared to be getting assistance from a Scotsman. A blond head appeared.

Shanna! Sean caught his breath. "She—she was here! Sunday night."

"Who? Shanna?" Garrett asked.

Sean's mouth fell open as his daughter stepped away from the car. He blinked several times. It couldn't be true. She walked toward the steps to the townhouse. He quickly rewound the tape. It had to be a mistake. Maybe she'd just gained a lot of weight. He replayed the section where she was getting out of the car, then froze on the image of his daughter. His very pregnant daughter.

"That bastard." This was it. Draganesti had gone too far.

"Sean, what's going on?"

"Get over here." Sean jumped to his feet. "No, go to the office first. Arm yourself. I want weapons, silver bullets, handcuffs, and a battering ram."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, and bring the girls with you. I want you all here in thirty minutes." Sean strode to the window and looked through the blinds at Draganesti's house. "We're going in."