Cloud City

CHAPTER SIX

Sophie stirs. “Jonathan is here, isn’t he?”

You bet your ass, sweet cheeks. Jonathan’s bitterness is caustic as acid. What did you do while I was under? Something stupid, I’ll bet. You want to tell me or should I ask Anna?

Sophie looks up at me and I think she’s asking me to tell the story but instead she says, “I told Prendergast the book was Anna’s idea. That it was her story.”

I expect an eruption. Instead, Jonathan’s reaction is uncharacteristically calm. Why did you do that?

“Because I wanted Prendergast to go after someone else.”

So you sent him after our friend?

“Friend?” Sophie’s face darkens with anger. “She’s not my friend. She killed my sister after I begged her not to. Belinda was sick. She couldn’t protect herself. She was no threat to anyone.”

You have no idea--

I know what Jonathan is about to say. He knew the truth about Belinda’s vow to kill the sister she thought had betrayed her. I stop him before he goes any farther.

“I’m sorry, Sophie. I did what I thought was right at the time. If you can’t forgive me, at least try to understand. None of this is Jonathan’s fault.”

Sophie’s expression remains fixed, unmoved by what I’ve said. I wait a heartbeat before moving on to what must be resolved before this night is over.

“What do we do about Prendergast? I think he originally planned to try to kill the vampire he blames for turning his grandmother. Since this is the first time face to face with a real vampire, though, he may be rethinking that plan.”

Jonathan interjects. Sophie, what did you and Prendergast talk about after you got rid of me?

His emphasis on the last words makes it clear that was a subject he’d be revisiting. In the meantime, though, I look to Sophie for the answer to a question I would have asked myself.

She draws a breath. “After I told him the story was Anna’s, he wanted more details. Details I couldn’t give him but promised Anna would.”

“But you knew that was impossible. I haven’t even read the stupid book.”

Stupid book?

You know what I mean, Jonathan. Out loud. “How did you think it would go when he started questioning me?”

Sophie finally allows a bit of confidence to break through the gloom. “I knew it wouldn’t get that far. Anna would show her true nature and Prendergast would back down. Which he did. I also knew you’d get me out of there at the first opportunity. Prendergast is probably on his way out of town as we speak.”

She had thought it through. A flicker of admiration blooms. Briefly. “If you’re right, and Prendergast decides it’s better to leave and let the family legend fade on its own, your plan worked. If not—”

Sophie rises from the bed. “Well, we’ll know tomorrow, won’t we?”

An obvious signal that it’s time for me to leave. I reach out to Jonathan. Go easy on her.

No reply. I release a breath and wave a weary hand. “Good night, Sophie. Sleep well.”

Even as I say it, I know that’s unlikely. She seems aware of it, too, and I wonder if Jonathan has already begun haranguing her.

I wish I could muster up pity.

Nothing looks so inviting as the bed in my hotel room. I shower, slip into shorts and a tank top and settle myself under sweet-smelling sheets. It’s still early, only about ten, but weariness washes over me. Tonight has been laden with emotion—more exhausting than a day of physical exertion. I don’t have the energy to sort through what’s happened or brain storm solutions. Blissful sleep comes easily.

The vampire hears it first. A scratching at the door lock, a twisting of the knob.

She awakens the human Anna, dragging her unwillingly from a dream until the fog clears and she’s aware, too.

I sit straight up in bed, my eyes on the door. Vampire is already roused for action. Teeth bared in a snarl, fists ready to claw the throat of an intruder.

Stealthy as any predator, I slip out of bed, go to stand just behind and to the left of the door.

The scratching continues, a clumsy attempt to pick the lock. I’m tempted to grab the door and pull it open, but I want to see what the late night visitor intends. I wait and watch and listen until the tumblers fall into place and the door opens on silent hinges.

I recognize his smell. Carnivore, reeking of the steak he consumed and the wine he drank. Probably for courage. He is still hidden from sight, but his breathing is ragged and fear exudes from his pores. With a sharp intake of breath, he bursts into the dark room, heads straight for the bed, plunges something into the bedclothes not aware in his frenzy that the bed is empty.

He raises his hand to strike again and I still the hand in mid-air. The wooden stake falls to the floor when my grip threatens to break his wrist.

Prendergast looks at me with eyes wide with surprise and panic. His mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air. I swing him around and throw him down on the bed.

Vampire wants to finish him off. She lusts for his blood. He attacked us and it is our right to defend ourselves. It is the way.

The human Anna is reluctant to interfere. But there are practical considerations. Disposing of a body is difficult. Better to let him go. For now.

I grab Prendergast by his jacket and haul him into a sitting position. “You missed.”

He blinks at me as if surprised I haven’t killed him.

“Sophie lied to you. I’m not the vampire you seek. If I let you go, and you promise to be a good boy and go to your room, you will live to hear the truth. If you don’t, we will end it here and you’ll die never knowing it.”

He still can’t find his voice. A shaky nod, a two-handed push off the bed, an awkward stumble toward the door is all the answer I get.

I beat him by five steps and hold open the door. Vampire shows her serious face. “Remember what I said.”

I think he will.