“Da, without doubt. His faith is now sight.” He let out a little sigh and gave her shoulder a gentle pat. “Sposiba, Detective.”
Normally, if she was touched, Maggie would recoil. She didn’t permit many inside her personal space, but the gesture was so innocent and priestly, she didn’t mind it as much. “I may have more questions for you. Don’t go far,” she ordered and turned away, heading back toward the sanctuary.
Before she passed through the heavy wooden doors she paused at the threshold and glanced back at Father Anatoly. His broad back was to her, his shoulders tensed, and a darkness hung over him that sent a shiver down her spine. She hurried away, not sure what it was about him that made her feel both safe and incredibly vulnerable.
Chapter Two
Anger was not a foreign emotion to Anatoly, but it was not one he liked to dwell on. He would usually dismiss it or focus on prayers until it went away, but tonight, with the news that his fellow priest had been brutally slain, he let it seep into his bones. This was no random killing, no stick up gone wrong, no unfortunate tragedy. Father Abram had been hunted and drained dry as though his life meant nothing.
Yes, Anatoly was angry and his heart was heavy with grief. He knew what sort of monster had invaded his domain and taken a dear friend, a dear soul, away. Not just from him, but from the flock that he had dedicated his own unlife to protecting. It was a constant struggle, balancing his nature with the monster he’d become over a century ago, and yet he had never made a habit of killing.
There was no way he could explain any of this to the detective. She would never believe that he was a vampire in the first place, and even if she did, he would then become her prime suspect. No, he would have to play this very carefully to ensure the other leech paid without getting himself tangled up with the police. It was safer if he avoided them, kept to himself and his congregation and yet…
Anatoly turned, watching as the policewoman strode with purpose through the doors to the sanctuary. She couldn’t have been much older than thirty, but she had the look about her same as those who had seen too much in their short time on this earth. It was clear to him that she was lost, searching for meaning in a haze of sin and vice. Maybe that was why he felt drawn to her or maybe it was the hint of something hidden deep below the surface, something that beckoned to him now.
His eyes drifted down her figure, studying the way she carried herself. She wasn’t dressed for the job, she was dressed for an evening out, and yet here she was tending to a crime scene as though it were as routine a task as accounting. He nodded to himself, sure that this was not the worst murder she’d witnessed and suddenly, a deep sense of sorrow filled him. Not just for Father Abram’s violent passing, but for the detached detective whose soul was tainted black with all that she had witnessed.
He continued to watch her from a distance, enraptured by the way she moved and the meticulous manner with which she examined the scene. Then she knelt beside the body and put a gentle hand on Father Abram’s still chest.
Curious, Anatoly took a few steps closer, wanting to hear what she was saying. As a vampire, his senses were sharper than a mortal’s and even from this distance he could pick out her soft whispers if he concentrated on her voice alone.
“Rest now, your vengeance is mine to carry.”
A promise to the dead. A promise she had been careful not to make to Anatoly just moments earlier. He was definitely intrigued, but more than that, he was resolved.
The priest’s long strides ate up the floor between them until he came to a halt just behind where she was kneeling. “If I may,” he announced his presence, “I have come to decision. I would like to assist your investigation, Detective.”
“Father…” There was a note of irritation in her tone as she rose and turned to him, taking hold of his arm and marching him back to the foyer. “If you won’t stay out of the way, I’ll have to ask you to sit in a squad car until we’re done. Am I clear?”
Her touch was firm and distracting. He was relieved when she removed her hand, though he missed her mortal warmth. Like all vampires, he was drawn to that spark of life. “You understand this is now church matter, too. It would be benefit to have representative of church in your investigation, da?”
“If the department has need of your services, Father, then we will be in contact.” She sounded as though she’d said those words a thousand times before. Were there really so many people asking to help on her cases? “Please, have a seat and let us do our jobs.”
Anatoly didn’t appreciate being dismissed, but he understood why she was doing it. He recognized that it wasn’t her decision to make either, that he had been so compelled to offer his services, he’d blundered into offering them to the wrong person. “Very well, I thank you for your time.” He let the matter drop.
That seemed to satisfy her. She gave him a curt nod and started back toward the crime scene, leaving him alone for a second time that night.
“Excuse me, Detective,” he called suddenly, realizing something else. “I did not catch your name…”
She paused, half-turning back to him. The policewoman stared at him, expressionless, for a long moment before she finally said, “Maggie Boone, but you should have my badge number if you want to lodge a complaint.”
“Not at all, Maggie Boone.” Anatoly smiled, enjoying the feel of her name on his lips. “I will not keep you any longer.”
They regarded each other for a little longer and then, without another word, she was gone.
Anatoly let out a sigh and turned his back to the sanctuary entirely. It was clear to him, despite her unwillingness, that he had to be part of this investigation. There was a vampire on the loose, threatening the secret society of supernatural creatures who had existed for centuries right under the noses of most mortals. He had to be stopped, for there was nothing to be gained from killing their prey and even less to be gained from killing a priest.
Anatoly knew such blood-crazed vampires existed. They had not all died out in the great conflicts of Europe that had driven him to seek the safer region of the Americas. They lingered like feral rats, skittering in the dark, filthy places of the world.
Under other circumstances, the priest would have minded his own business and kept his distance from the police, but he was not about to let Maggie Boone face down one of these rogue vampires on her own. Whether she liked it or not, she was about to get a new partner.
Chapter Three
Exhaustion dragged Maggie down, making it difficult to put one foot in front of the other as she climbed the stairs to her apartment. Naturally, the elevator was broken again and so she was stuck trudging up four flights just to get home. By the time she reached the appropriate floor, she had forgotten her hunger and just wanted to collapse into bed for the next sixteen hours.
She shuffled the remaining distance to her front door and slotted the key into the hole. The lock turned and she jimmied the wooden door open. It caught on the carpet, but she’d gotten used to that and knew to lift so it didn’t scrape too badly.
A lazy feline trill greeted her, followed by a more insistent meow as her cat realized she was home and that meant it was time for his bowl to be filled. Maggie sighed and dumped her purse and high heels onto the couch as she passed through the living room and into the tiny kitchen. By now, the cat had found her and was rubbing against her legs, trying his damn best to trip her it seemed.
