Dead Chance Page 10

  So Jason Lewis had gone insane. He thought himself a vampire and had killed Connors. That didn't explain his speed or ability to take one of my kicks like it was nothing. As I started to ask how that was possible a bright light shone in my face.

  I held up a hand to block the light.

  An annoying, familiar voice said, "Hands where I can see...What the hell?!"

  Lewis' movements were hard to track. He moved like smoke. From the first words, Chance shouted at us, Lewis' body moved to the denser foliage in the deeper woods. By the time he'd finished, Lewis had vanished.

  I kept my hands up.

  The light lowered as Chance approached me. He put the safety on his gun and holstered it at his side. He pointed the flashlight at the ground and sighed while looking in the direction Lewis had bolted.

  "You can put your hands down, Dianna." Standing arm's length away, he took out a cigarette and lit it with a lighter. He took a deep drag as I lowered my hands. "Well, shit."

  I put down my hands. Looking up at Chance, I asked, "You saw that, right?"

  He nodded. "If you are asking if I saw a suspect in a murder case, where the victim was drained of blood, move like the wind, the answer is yes."

  "But vampires are bullshit," I said.

  "Maybe not." His eyes stopped watching the darkness and looked back at me. "Did he do that to your neck?"

  I held a hand up to my throat. "Uh, yeah."

  "Okay." Chance met my gaze with steel in his brown eyes. "If you don't want to spend the night filling out forms and answering official questions, you are coming to my place. There you are going to explain to me why an accountant from Fort Augustine is tracking a vampire, or whatever Jason Lewis actually is."

  My hands clenched into fists.

  "Or I could bring you into the hospital, where they can look at your throat. And then, we can spend the night filling out forms. You answering official questions." He trailed off, taking a drag off his cigarette.

  Growling in frustration, I said, "Fine."

  Chance smiled that insufferable grin, "Follow me, ma'am."

  Getting into my car, the driver's door didn't close all the way. The hinges creaked in protest.

  Watching me he said, "Why don't you ride with me, and I can get Tom to tow your car."

  I grabbed my bag and slammed the stupid door shut. It groaned but didn't stay shut.

  He held the passenger door open of a big blue truck.

  I grumbled under my breath as I got in, "Fucking asshole."

  "I've been called worse by better, angel," he said as he shut the door.

  Stopping the scream of frustration, I realized it was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chance's house looked like the typical two-story split. It was cream with white trim and looked like it had been updated quite a bit. Fancy leaded glass wooden front door, shutter windows, and the garage doors matched the wood of the front door. The inside foyer had you either going up or down immediately. However, it had enough room for a closet and a bench with two shoe racks. He sat, taking off his boots. He put his cowboy hat on a shelf in the top of the closet. There were two others there, and some ball caps.

  His hair was such a mess. The thick brown mop touched just past his neck. He took off his jacket and put it up on a hanger, then got another hanger and held out a hand. His fitted button up top showed off his lean muscles.

  Remembering Roth's arms around me and the warmth of him, I shook my head. I needed to focus on Jason Lewis, and right now that meant on Chance.

  I put my boots on the rug next to his. I handed him my leather jacket with a sigh. He hung it up in the small closet.

  A longing ache filled me. A desire to see Roth. His pale blue eyes, his coiffed dark ebony-red streaked hair, the scent of honey and musk. I missed him. Taking a peek at my phone before putting my bag down on the bench above the shoes and boots, it revealed no missed calls or texts.

  My chest hurt. Was it over because I couldn't give Roth more?

  Chance led me up the hardwood stairs. There was a hallway to the left, with three doors off of it. To the right was the living room with no television. And next to that was a dining area and a kitchen that was only separated as its own room by a half-wall between it and the dining room and its countertops which were like a bar. Two bar stools were under them.

  He washed his hands in the kitchen sink. "If you need to use the restroom it is the first door on the left."

  I went into the restroom. Looking in the mirror, I gasped. My neck was completely black and a deep violet where Lewis had tried to strangle me. My eyes were entirely bloodshot. Gurgling and growling, my stomach reminded me that I needed to eat to heal.

  I washed my hands, face, and neck without a washcloth. It felt better. How come Jason Lewis was so strong?

  Coming out, Chance sat on the couch, legs sprawled out. He had cheese, veggies and deli meats sliced up on a plate, along with two beers on his coffee table. "Help yourself, Dianna."

  I opened up my beer and took some deli meat.

  He shook his head, looking at my neck. "Are you certain you don't want a doctor."

  I shook my head.

  "Okay. So are you one of them?" His voice got hard, his eyes narrowing.

  "Them?"

  "Your wounds will magically heal?"

  I frowned. Whisper and I had rules, trust no one but each other. And never, ever talk about the monsters or our powers to others. "Them who?" Who was he talking about?

  "Alright. I'll tell you my tale first. After, I'd appreciate you doing the same."

  I ate more deli meat. What did Chance know?

  His eyes were lost in memory as he said, "While touring overseas, one of the places we were briefly stationed was an old army base in Germany. We were only going to be there a short time, while they decide who would be deployed where. Even though most of us had served our time, we weren't being sent back home. Too many dangerous areas needed sorting.”

  He stopped for a moment lost in memories before continuing, “Well, a buddy of mine suggested checking out the site of a haunting. I said no thanks. The Germans stationed with us kept teasing and taunting us about it. We all figured it was just a made-up thing. Just new blood stuff."

  Chance took a drink of beer, and I kept eating the slices of ham. "So, like hazing?"

  "Kind of. George and I, we decided to check it out after some of our guys had gone out to explore that night and hadn't come back."

  He looked away for a while, not speaking. He took a deep breath and turned back.

  "George got held up, caught really. We weren't supposed to be there or out of the barracks that time of night. I went on, to find out what was going on. I expected to find some of our guys and the German guys partying." His eyes looked deep into mine. "Instead, I found them. With him." He put down his beer.

  I stayed silent.

  Chance said, "He was so beautiful. His hair was like silver, and his skin looked golden. He was raping one of the German soldiers.”

  He pointed, “Lange. His name was Lange. I hadn't showered or changed. I had on my gear. I brought up my weapon and told him to stop and surrender himself."

  His hands shook, "The bullets hit him." He touched his chest. "Center mass." Shaking his head, he said, "But as soon as he took a bullet, it started to heal. He stopped and came towards me. I shot him in the head."

  Looking into his brown eyes, I could see the horror as he relived it all by telling me.

  "He got up and grinned at me." He moved, so he faced away from me. "I ran. I got back to my bed unseen. The next time I saw George, I told him what I saw. At that point, I thought I'd dreamed it all. Everybody showed up, none of the soldiers seemed to hurt."

  He turned away and picked back up his drink. Taking a long drink, he set it back down.

  "Lange. Everyone ended up alright except Lange." He stayed quiet for a while. "I thought George would tell me I'm nuts, or that I must've taken drugs. But instead, he told me peopl
e on the bayou know all about the white devils. Evil beings of beauty that can heal themselves and make the strongest willed person do things that they'd never do otherwise. I laughed at first. Thinking he was fucking with me."

  He breathed in deep again, "The night before we were headed back to the sand, I woke and that silver and gold man stood next to my bed, still nude. I tried to scream and cry out. But it was like, my body wouldn't respond. The devil had shining golden eyes. He told me, 'I will find you later. You will pay the price for stopping my fun.'"

  Casteele unbuttoned his shirt.

  I stood up, moving away.

  Casteele bared his chest, exposing a tattooed symbol of a star with exquisite scripted writing starting at the top point P H P H R Z on it. The Z had a line through it.

  What was it?

  "He just drew it with his finger, and there it was, over my heart." Casteele's finger traced over the small tattoo. As he buttoned back up his shirt, I sat down.

  Shoving deli meat in my mouth, I reached for more. It was gone. Needles poked at my stomach lining. "Is there a place that delivers in town?"

  Casteele looked at me, "Local pizza place, Frazi's."

  "You call and order up a couple all meats, and I'll buy," I said.

  "Sounds fair."

  Casteele ordered the pizzas, and I gave him some cash.

  He asked, "So, you aren't like that devil, are you?"

  "No."

  "But you heal?"

  "It’s a really awful and long story," I said.

  Casteele said, "It will be a half hour before Frank brings by our pizzas."

  "I don't talk about it," I said more firmly.

  "Is it worse than having a best friend blown to bits right next to you and having to pick off his eyeball later because it somehow made its way between your clothes and Kevlar?"

  Casteele took a drink of beer.

  "Different," I said.

  "I doubt it," he said.

  "Fine." I took in a deep breath, "If I think or talk about it, I relive it."

  Casteele frowned. "I'm here. I live with PTSD too."

  "Okay. Fine." I said, "When I was in college, my friends were slaughtered by a monster."

  Casteele said, "How many?"

  "Well, it was a party at a lake house. Originally, just six of us. But word got out, probably because of Nathan." Nathan, Brad and Max's gossipy frat brother. I was going to confess to Max. Sara to Brad. Just a break from studying. "The shadows were alive. They ate the living."

  The room shifted the past bleeding into reality.

  I sat on a bed. There was blood on my legs as I pulled up my jeans. It hurt so much. I tried to stop crying. I didn't want to make noise. Max might come back. I stayed still, listening. The house seemed so quiet.

  I put on my bra and shirt as fast as I could. All the bruises made it hard. Slipping on my ballet shoes that I'd been so proud of, I opened the door slightly half-afraid to find Max waiting outside the door.

  No one was there. It was so dark. So quiet. I could hear the stereo still pumping out Brad's current playlist. Had someone heard Max and called the police? Was everyone outside?

  But it stank. It smelled so bad. I went to the bedroom next to where I'd been.

  I tripped, falling on something, my hands bracing on something squishy and warm. Pushing up, I looked down as my eyes adjusted to the dark. Peyton, one of Julie's sorority sisters. No. She lied in blood, most of her organs on the ground. My hands were on them. Screaming, I backed away.

  I felt something on my shoulder. The living shadows. Screaming, I ran. But it stopped me, tightening around my shoulder. Shaking me.

  "Dianna, breath. I'm here," Chance's gentle voice said.

  I looked around, the darkness faded away in a wash. I was back in Casteele's living room, sitting next to him. His hand held my shoulder.

  "Dianna, breath."

  "It is over. This is now." I whispered the mantra over and over.

  He got up and answered the door when the pizza arrived.

  I stayed still, pushing back the need to run.

  Chance put the pizzas on the countertop. "I'm sorry as hell, Dianna. I looked you up. Read about Lake Clare. I thought maybe you were like that devil. Not the victim. But playing one." He sat down giving me plenty of space. "Damn. I saw the pictures." He wiped his hand over his mouth. "Was it a devil?"

  I shook my head. I said, "I call it the Shadowed Man."

  He grunted, "Never met the bastard."

  "I hope you never do." I got up, and asked, "Where are some plates and napkins.

  He got some plates and napkins out and asked, "So how is it you are healing?"

  "It has happened since that night. I don't age. I heal if I eat. Meat helps the most."

  "You don't think you're immortal now, do you?"

  "I hope not." I'd lost enough in one lifetime. I didn't want to have more to experience the same over and over.

  We ate at the bar. I stood, unable to sit still.

  "Chance, so you thought I was like the creature you met. Why?"

  "Well, you are too perfect. He was like that too."

  I started laughing. I put down the pizza piece I'd been holding. I couldn't stop. Tears started to form in the corner of my eyes.

  "Women. The mystery continues."

  I wiped my eyes, "I'm sorry. It's just so funny. Me? My life is a mess, and you said too perfect."

  He shrugged, "It’s just you don't have the usual flaws us normal people do. No bumps or zits. No veins. No scars. No crooked teeth."

  "Three years of braces, thank you."

  Casteele held up his hands, "You just seemed too perfect."

  "Maybe you just need glasses," I teased, leaning closer to him to bump his shoulder.

  He put down his slice of pizza. "No. I see things clearly." He leaned down, and said, "I'd like to kiss you now, Dianna."

  What?

  My phone started blaring. The ringer still set on one of the factory tones because I went through phones the way some people go through sneakers. Roth's name lit up the screen. "Uh, it's my sort-of-boyfriend."

  "Sort of?"

  "We are fighting. Sort of."

  "Is it the sort of fight you want to get some revenge?"

  I said, "No, I need to talk to him."

  Chance said as I answered the call, "If you can tell me things you can't him, dump him." He went back to eating a slice of pizza.

  "Roth, hi," I said.

  "Who the fuck is that," Roth said.

  "That is Deputy Casteele," I said. This was uncomfortable.

  "I'm half langered from worry, and you are cozying up with some whanker!" His voice was thick with an accent and loud enough Chance raised an eyebrow at me.

  "Roth, it isn't like that. He found me after I was attacked-"

  "What?" Roth became inaudible as he let loose a stream of curses.

  I just put the phone on mute, and said, "Um, is there somewhere I can talk in private."

  Chance stood up and beckoned with his hand. He led me to the last door on the left. He opened it up. It was a study. With a bookshelf packed full of detective and true crime novels, and a computer desk area.

  He said, "I'll be out there if you need me. He sounds like trouble."

  I unmuted the phone as Chance left. "Roth, listen." I interrupted his rant.

  "Di, I swear to the bloody devil I'll kill whoever dared to harm you."

  "He got away. But please stop and listen."

  Roth stopped.

  "I am sorry that coming to Solas ruined our date. I want to try again."

  His voice was quiet, "Do you mean that?"

  "Of course. Why would I say it if I didn't?"

  "I do too, Di. Are you injured?"

  "Minor bruising, so no. I should be back to the city in a day. Two at the most."

  "I see."

  I bit my lip. "We can talk when I get back."

  "I miss you, Dianna." His voice got husky, "Do you miss me?"

  "Yes." I
said, "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

  "Alright."

  "Goodnight, Roth."

  "Take care, Dianna."

  Hanging up, I wondered if it was over. Chance was right. If I couldn't talk to Roth about the important stuff, it wasn't much of a relationship.

  Chapter Twenty

  Chance sat on the couch, checking something on his laptop. He looked up at me, and asked, "Did you ditch him?"

  "Don't finish the thought, Chance." I sat down. My stomach was still hungry, but it always wanted more. I put the gnawing feelings aside. "So, I've fought other things too. Can you see things as they really are?"

  "Yes. I mean, I think so. What do you mean?"

  "Do you have any bugs in town," I asked.

  "What are you talking about? Like roaches? Or mosquitoes?"

  "After," I paused, "everything. I can see things others can't. Well, children and some of the insane can."

  "Dianna, spit it out." He was frowning at me.

  "Some people aren't people. They are creatures. They look like men in suits, but in reality, they are insatiable monsters that rape and eat people."

  Chance looked at me like I was talking in tongues.

  "It's true. The monsters are common in Fort Augustine, but I don't know about elsewhere. This is the first time I've left the city since back then."

  He sighed and shook his head in disbelief. "I've never seen a bug man. Or whatever the hell Lewis is." He paused, "Wait, is he a bug man to you? Is that why you came chasing him?" He put a toothpick in his mouth.

  "He attacked me in the city and got away. Twice." I didn’t mention the vision. Whisper's secrets weren't mine to tell. "I didn't know what, or if he was a monster or a murderer. But he looks like a person to me."

  "Except those eyes of his," Chance said. "And his speed."

  "Yeah. Except for those." I thought about it all. "So do you think that he really is a vampire and killed Connors?"

  "Yes. I kind of do."

  "Crap. Me too," I said. "Vampires. I would have bet all my meager savings that vampires were pure myth."

  He laughed, "Even with the bug men?"