Wings In The Night - Blue Twilight Part 25

Max closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from swearing. Why the h.e.l.l was Jason so determined?

G.o.d, could Lou be right about him? Was he keeping something from her?

"He's a vampire, Max, " Lou said. "He can't hurt the girls during the day. They'll be safe until we can get out there."

G.o.d, it killed Max to have to put off exploring the island until later-to leave those poor girls out there one minute longer than necessary. And her gut instinct told her to find a way to get out there, despite the storm.

Still, she supposed Jason and Lou were right. Waiting for the storm to pa.s.s was better than drowning in the effort. And the vampire could do the girls no harm by day. It was a small rea.s.surance but the best she could come up with.

They ate takeout for breakfast, while she phoned the women to change their meeting times. She also phoned Lydia, who told her she'd ordered a replacement pane for the mansion's front door, and that it would likely be installed before Max returned.

The storm kept raging, never relaxing its intensity, right up until she and Lou were in the car, on the road and headed out of town for the first of their scheduled meetings with the survivors of the vampire. The wipers heat frantically against the deluge.

And then they left Endover, and the dark clouds seemed to thin, then vanished entirely. The roads beyond the strange, haunted town were dry, the skies clear and bright.

"Jesus, " Lou muttered.

Max just shook her head and tried her d.a.m.nedest to put a positive spin on the enforced delay. "It'll do Stormy a world of good to get out of that town for the day, " she said as she drove her Bug along Route 101 toward Manchester .

"It won't do us any harm, either. Though I'm still not sure I like that she's got only Jason for backup."

Max shrugged. "I didn't like it much, either, but she insisted. I think she would have preferred to go alone. But she figured that would make Jason feel excluded and a little crazy, waiting at the motel alone, doing nothing." She swallowed. "Now I'm wondering if she would have been safer on her own.

Jason's...I'm beginning to think you might be right. He's got more going on than he's saying." Lou reached across the s.p.a.ce between them to pat her hand where it rested on the seat. "That might be so, but he adores Storm. If she were alone and had one of those episodes, pa.s.sed out the way she has before-then what? It's better Jay's with her. He knows what's been going on and can get help if he has to. Besides, we all have our phones with us"

"Yeah. And they all miraculously work as soon as we get away from Endover. That storm was centered over the town, too. How freaking powerful must this guy be to be able to control the weather?"

"You don't know that was him, Max"

"Maybe you don't. I think he's done something to that town. I think that's why the phones don't work there"

'Bad airwaves as well as bad air, you think?"

She made a face. "Bad jokes must be one of the side effects."

Lou rolled down his window. "I feel better already. I'll bet Stormy does, too, don't you?"

"I hope so. I'm so afraid for her, Lou."

"Me too, hon." He closed his hand around hers, and she was glad he was at her side. "Did you hear from the linguist?"

She nodded. "I e-mailed him again last night, told him it was urgent. His reply came through within the hour, but I didn't get it until this morning. I sneaked in after breakfast, checked the mail while Storm was in the shower."

"And?"

"He said he couldn't be sure, given that what I sent him was spelled phonetically, but he thought it was likely Slavic, possibly Romanian."

"You're s.h.i.+tting me."

She lifted her brows. "You look surprised."

"I honestly expected it to turn out to be gibberish. I don't suppose this guy offered any sort of translation?"

"If it was Romanian, he said it was something like, "'Who lives by the sword, by the sword shall he perish.'

"That's what she said-when I was getting ready to shoot the wolf?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"And the other? The stuff she whispered when she stroked the critter's neck?"

"'He is not so black as he is painted ' Max couldn't suppress a s.h.i.+ver as she repeated the translation."What the h.e.l.l could this mean, Lou?"

"I don't know. I do not for the life of me know." He sent her a sideways look. "Did you tell Storm about this?"

"Not yet. I'm afraid it's just going to upset her more. But I have to tell her, I guess."

"Yeah, " Lou agreed. "You really do."

He kept holding her hand. She let his strength comfort her and wished, as she always did, for more.

Mary Ann Prusinski was a tall woman of perhaps thirty. She arrived at the prearranged meeting spot, a cafe in Boston , twenty minutes late, and by the time she got there, Stormy was ready to give up and move on. But then she came in, her black hair caught up in a bun behind her head. She wore a suit of muted gray that was so nondescript that Storm guessed she wanted to blend into the woodwork.

Nothing about her was noticeable. She could have been a beauty with her huge dark eyes and aristocratic nose. But she wasn't-she was exceedingly, deliberately plain.

"Mary Ann?" Stormy asked, rising as the woman came toward the table where she and Jason sat. "Yes.

You're Ms. Jones?"

"Call me Stormy, everyone does."

The woman didn't acknowledge the invitation but instead glanced nervously at Jason. "Who are you?"

"This is my friend Jason Beck, " Stormy said quickly. "His sister is one of the girls who's missing."

"I see."

Jason got to his feet and extended a hand. The woman just shook her head, pulled out the empty chair and sat down. "I'm sorry about your sister, " she said. "But I'm afraid I'm not going to be much help. As I told you on the phone, I don't remember anything that happened during the time I was...missing."

"I know, " Stormy said. "No one else does, either."

That got the woman's attention. She looked at Stormy sharply. "No one else...there are others?"

"Almost a dozen."

"Not counting my sister and her friend, " Jason added.

A waitress came, placing gla.s.ses of ice water in front of each of them and handing out menus. She began reciting specials, and Stormy held up a hand. "Give us a minute?"

The waitress nodded and hurried away.

Mary Ann blinked as if in shock. "I... don't understand."

"Neither do we, " Stormy said. "All we know is that a lot of women vanished from the face of the earthwhen they were pa.s.sing through or near Endover. And all of them showed up again, a few days to a week later, with no memory of where they had been or what had happened to them."

"My G.o.d."

"I was hoping you might be able to tell me something that will help us understand what's been going on."

Mary Ann shook her head slowly. "But I don't remember-"

"I know. I know you don't. But there are other things, besides memory, that might give us some clue."

"What kinds of things?"

"Well, I don't know. Was there any physical harm done to you while you were...missing?"

"No. I was in perfect health."

"And what about mentally?"

The woman shot her a look. "I'm not insane, Ms. Jones."

"I know that. I just meant-was there anything different about you, emotionally, mentally? Any habits you developed that you hadn't had before? Fears, phobias, depression?"

The woman blinked...and lowered her head, telling Stormy more surely than words could that she'd hit on something.

"What, Mary Ann? Whatever it is, please...?"

She held up a hand, nodded. "I'm afraid of the dark now. I never was before." She lifted her head. "And there are...dreams."

"Nightmares?" Stormy asked, sliding to the edge of her chair, leaning forward. Around them waitresses carried trays, people sipped coffee and chatted, ice clinked against gla.s.sware. Everything was so perfectly normal.

"Not...exactly." The woman shot a look at Jason.

Jason took the hint. "I'm gonna go find the men's room. I'll be back, " he said, and he got up from the table and left them alone.

When he was gone, Mary Ann leaned closer. "In the dreams I'm paralyzed. I can't move. And there's a man. And he...does something to me"

Stormy frowned. "Were you s.e.xually a.s.saulted, Mary Ann?"

"No. The doctors found no sign of it, at least. And he doesn't touch me...that way...in the dreams.

Not... with his hands, anyway. It's like...he does it with his mind. And he...he bites me."

Stormy had been leaning forward. But the words made her sit up straight. "He drinks from you, " she whispered. Mary Ann nodded hard. "My therapist says that my mind has filled in the missing time with fantasies, stuff I picked up from horror novels or films or pop culture."

"But what do you think?"

"I don't know what to think."

Stormy covered the other woman's hand with one of her own. "I'm so sorry, Mary Ann. It must be terrifying for you."

Mary Ann shook her head slowly, lifting her eyes to Stormy's. "No. It's almost...erotic" Her eyes slammed closed quickly, and she jerked her hand away. "G.o.d, I'm ashamed to admit that."

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

Mary Ann kept her eyes shut for a moment, and Stormy thought she was battling tears. "Do you think you could draw him? A likeness of him, I mean? Have you ever tried?"

The woman's eyes opened quickly. "How could you know that?"

"You have drawn him, then?"

The woman bent to the large handbag that rested on the floor beside her chair. She drew a folder from it and pa.s.sed it to Stormy with hands that shook almost uncontrollably.

Stormy took the folder and opened it.

The man himself stared at her from the page inside. The pencil drawing seemed to stare at her with an intensity that tied her stomach in knots. Longish, narrow face, full lips, a cleft in his chin, long dark hair.

And those deep-set, piercing eyes.

"You don't think he's real?" Mary Ann whispered.

"I don't know." But she did know. He was real. She'd seen him before-in her mind. Her head began to swim. She was dizzy and flooded in white noise.

"Ms. Jones?"

Stormy pinched the bridge of her nose, fought the incoming tide. "Can I keep these?" she managed to ask.

"Yes. Yes of course." The woman looked around the cafe. "G.o.d, I feel as if he's here somewhere.

Watching."

"It's daylight, Mary Ann. You're safe. But...you should go."

"I should-"

"Go. Now." Stormy leaned back in her chair, pressed both her palms to the sides of her head and closed her eyes tight. Moments later, Jason was there, his hands on her shoulders, tight and hard. "Hold on, Stormy. Hold on, don't let go" He was pulling her to her feet.

"Is she gone? Mary Ann? Where is...?" Stormy asked.

"She's gone. It's fine"

"Get the drawings, " she whispered.

He s.n.a.t.c.hed up the folder, her purse. She thought he threw some bills from his pocket onto the table-a tip for the waitress, since they had never gotten around to ordering anything-and then he was leading her from the cafe, putting her into his Jeep, buckling her seat belt around her.