Watchers in the Night Read online

  She pushed away and looked up into his eyes. “Don’t be sorry. This isn’t over yet, and it’s possible my investigation could be the key to stopping the Banger.”

  Gray frowned and shook his head. “I have to admit I’m very confused. Deirdre can’t be the Banger.”

  “But she’s obviously his partner or accomplice.”

  “Yes, but she was acting as if this were all her plan.”

  Carolyn nodded. “She’s still trying to cover for him. She’s being cautious, in case by some chance we escape.”

  “Of course, she doesn’t know we already know who the Banger is,” Gray mused.

  “Right. And let’s keep it that way, shall we? If she doesn’t realize how far we’ve come, she won’t realize her danger.”

  Gray laughed, genuine mirth sparkling in his eyes. “Only you could claim she’s in such great danger when you’re locked in a room with a hungry vampire with questionable self-control.”

  She grinned at him. “Hey, I’m an optimist. But really, we aren’t completely sunk yet. If Deirdre knew about Hannah, you can bet Hannah would be down here with us.”

  “Or dead,” Gray agreed grimly.

  “Right. And if she were dead, I suspect Deirdre would have gloated about it. So Hannah may still be able to locate us.”

  Gray shook his head. “Yeah, then she’d have to convince Jules and company that the note Dee made me write was a fake, otherwise they’d just ignore her findings.”

  Carolyn smiled again. “Hannah can be quite persuasive. Now tell me, is Deirdre still in the house?”

  He closed his eyes and a furrow appeared between his brows. He sighed, then opened his eyes. “Someone is. Don’t know if it’s Dee or her buddy the Banger.”

  “Well let’s sit tight for a while then. We don’t want them to hear our escape attempts.”

  Gray took a seat on the floor, his back against the wall, then beckoned for her to sit beside him. She did, resting her head against his shoulder and twining her fingers with his.

  JULES USED THE KEY he’d conned out of the front desk clerk to let himself into Gray and Carolyn’s room. Not surprisingly, it was empty. Fury burned through his veins, but he doused it. He’d promised Eli he wouldn’t jump to conclusions. He frowned when he noticed Carolyn’s pocketbook sitting on the floor, and his frown deepened when he saw her laptop still on. In his experience, women never went anywhere without their pocketbooks. He picked up the purse and searched through it. Her wallet was in there, containing her driver’s license and her PI license, as well as a couple hundred dollars in twenties.

  If she was Gray’s accomplice and had helped him slip away, why wouldn’t she have taken her purse—and her money—with her?

  Jules checked out the laptop and saw the page of handwritten entries she’d left up on the screen. Why would she have taken her pretense of having found the identity of the culprit to the extreme of poring over these records if she already knew Gray was the killer?

  Of course, there was always the chance that Carolyn was an unwitting accomplice and that she’d been his dinner tonight. Jules grimaced at the thought, noticing the thermos he’d brought to Gray earlier in the evening. He picked it up and shook it, confirming that it was still full.

  Conflicting instincts warred within him, his old enmity urging him to believe the hard evidence, while his more rational mind suggested the evidence had been badly overdone—just like it would have been if someone was attempting to frame Gray.

  The phone rang, nearly startling Jules out of his skin. He picked up on the second ring, not speaking.

  “Hello?” Hannah’s voice asked from the other end of the line, sounding puzzled.

  Jules sighed. “Hello, Hannah.”

  “Jules? Where’s Carolyn?”

  He wished he knew. “I think you’d better come down here,” he said.

  Hannah gave a gasp of dismay, and the phone went dead immediately.

  GRAY SAT WITH HIS back against the wall, his eyes closed in concentration, as Carolyn examined the only possible exit from their prison—the door. He heard her up there jiggling the handle, but though she would usually be capable of picking a lock given enough time, she didn’t have any equipment on her. She’d fashioned a primitive pick from the O-ring on her key chain, but said she needed something called a tension wrench to get the lock open. That didn’t stop her from trying, of course.

  The hunger stirred restlessly in his center, a feeling so unlike mortal hunger it was amazing they shared the same name. Even at this distance, he could hear the beat of Carolyn’s heart, could smell the scent of her skin. With his eyes closed, he sensed her as a pocket of heat when he himself was freezing. He clasped his arms around his knees to stop himself from going to her.

  It didn’t matter what Deirdre thought—he would never join her. He might lose his humanity, or even his soul, but he refused to surrender to the fate she’d drawn out for him. If she made him hurt Carolyn, then he would dedicate his life, whatever remained of it, to making her pay.

  He opened his eyes when he heard Carolyn descending the steps. Her face was grim, but still she showed no fear, despite the danger. An extraordinary woman, all around. Love and regret warred in his chest.

  “No luck?” he asked as she came to sit beside him once more.

  She shook her head. “It’s a sturdy deadbolt. I’d suggest trying to break the door down, but there’s no way to get any leverage or momentum on those stairs.”

  “Besides, I’m sure Dee would have guarded against it. The door’s probably reinforced.”

  “I’m not giving up yet.”

  He chuckled, earning himself a dirty look. “Don’t get mad at me,” he said. “It’s just that I never thought for a moment you were giving up.”

  Her frown eased into a wry smile and she leaned her head against his shoulder. He put his arm around her and rubbed his chin over the top of her head, wishing he could stop his ears against the throb of her pulse. She sighed and laid the palm of her hand against his chest.

  “Do you have any idea how much I missed you for the three years you were gone?” she murmured.

  He closed his eyes in pain, his arm tightening around her. He’d known when he’d walked out on her how badly he was going to hurt her. The decision had been mind-numbingly painful, and he’d hated to do it. But he’d honestly thought he’d had no choice. In fact, he still felt he’d done the right thing under the circumstances.

  “Believe me, I missed you too,” he said, restraining himself from qualifying the statement.

  She snuggled closer. “No matter what happens, I’m very glad you came back into my life.”

  He gritted his teeth, once more restraining himself. Everything that had happened only served to validate his conviction that he had to stay out of Carolyn’s life. No matter how much it hurt them both. But that wasn’t a conversation to have now.

  Her finger started tracing idle circles against his chest, and he sucked in a quick, startled breath. Desire surged through his veins, a wave of feeling more powerful than anything he’d felt before. He grabbed her hand to still it, but already his pulse was racing and he’d hardened painfully. His fangs pricked his lower lip.

  Carolyn smelled of citrus shampoo, of floral perfume, and of aroused woman. The drumbeat of her heart filled his ears, and images of her lying naked beneath him filled his mind. His mouth went entirely dry and his body quivered with strain as he fought for control. The desire to rip her clothing from her body and bury himself within her was near overpowering, but he knew that if he gave in to his sexual urges he stood a terrible risk of giving in to his other urges as well. He could almost taste the strangely spicy tang of her blood in his mouth, the tantalizing, intoxicating flavor that would fill him with strength and power. Where the blood-and-milk concoction he drank to stay alive made his stomach revolt, the taste of pure human blood, hot from the vein …

  He groaned and stuck his fist in his mouth, his hand visibly shaking. Carolyn moved away from him an
d said nothing, watching him with a neutral expression as he battled himself.

  It seemed to take forever, but eventually he gained a semblance of control. The fangs slowly receded, and he was able to breathe normally again, though his body was drenched in sweat as if from great physical exertion. He might have thought Carolyn would be frightened now that she’d seen how thin a thread his control hung on, but she smiled at him.

  “I guess this isn’t a good time for a roll in the hay, huh?” she said.

  For a moment, he had to fight back a resurgence of desire, but then he was able to laugh and shake his head. “You’d think by now I wouldn’t be surprised by you anymore, wouldn’t you?”

  Her face sobered. “I’m not afraid of you, Gray. Whatever happens.”

  He shook his head. “You should be. Honey, if Dee leaves us down here long enough, then it doesn’t matter how hard I fight it. I won’t be able to help myself.” His voice choked off in horror.

  “I understand that,” she said gently. “But you see, I still love you, Gray. Even after all these years. Even after what’s happened to you.”

  A lump formed in his throat, and he ached to return her declaration with one of his own. But he’d didn’t dare. Their situation was grave indeed, but there was still a chance that they could escape, that Hannah would find this house and the Guardians would listen to her and send a rescue party. If they did get out of this, he had to keep Carolyn out of his life. Their current situation just served to underscore how dangerous he was to her.

  And so he let her declaration hang between them, unanswered save by his aching heart.

  19

  DAWN WAS FAST APPROACHING, and Jules’s eyes were gritty and heavy as he tried to focus on the glowing computer screen. Hannah sprawled over one of the beds, her heavy breaths proving that she was sound asleep. She’d come downstairs at around three in the morning with the addresses of two properties she’d found under Archibald Montgomery’s name. Jules hadn’t recognized the addresses but had called Eli to have him send someone to check them out. Eli had also checked out Montgomery’s last known address, from his Guardian days, but the house had long since been demolished.

  Hannah had dark circles under her eyes, and he’d suggested she get a few hours of sleep. She’d made a counter-suggestion, of the physically impossible kind, at which point he’d used his glamour to enforce his will. After all, he didn’t want her missing an important listing just because she was too tired to see straight.

  His own search had uncovered yet another property once owned by Montgomery, but until he heard back from Eli as to whether any of these addresses panned out, he wasn’t going to stop looking. Now, however, it was time for him to head home for the day. He wasn’t about to sleep unguarded in this hotel room!

  Closing the folder he’d been searching through, he stretched and yawned. No doubt Hannah still hadn’t had enough sleep, but he decided it would be ungentlemanly to leave the room without waking her. He rose and shook her shoulder gently. She awoke with a start, sitting straight up and looking momentarily disoriented. Then she narrowed her eyes at him.

  “You glamoured me!” she accused.

  He grinned. “I’ve never heard ‘glamour’ used as a verb.”

  “Asshole,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes and shaking her head. “How long was I out?”

  “About three hours. I’d advise you to sleep some more if I thought there were any chance you’d listen to me.”

  She cast a sour glance in his direction. “Thanks for refraining from giving me unwanted advice.”

  “I have to retire for the day,” he said. “While you were sleeping, I found another address to pass by Eli, but I haven’t heard any news yet. You’ll keep looking, I presume?”

  She slid off the bed, yawning again. “Yeah. And I promise, if I’m too tired to function, I’ll quit for a while. This is my best friend we’re talking about—I’m not going to take any stupid chances with her life.”

  Jules felt a twinge of unexpected pity. “Hannah, you have to accept the possibility that she may already be dead.”

  Hannah’s face flushed bright red and her eyes flashed. “The hell I do!” she snapped. “I’ve never been Gray’s biggest fan, but I’ve seen enough to know he’s not a goddamned serial killer! And he would never hurt Carolyn.”

  Jules swallowed a protest and refrained from pointing out the flaws in Hannah’s logic. Even if Gray weren’t the Banger, the odds were that he and Carolyn had fallen victim to him. But if hope would allow Hannah to continue functioning, then he would not deny it to her. Whether Carolyn was alive or dead, the Banger was still out there, killing wantonly, and the faster they tracked him down, the better. Having someone on the Guardians’ side who was capable of working the case during the daylight was an opportunity they needed to take full advantage of.

  “Write down any addresses you find for Montgomery,” Jules continued as if he hadn’t heard Hannah’s outburst. “I’ll be back by sunset, and we’ll check them all out, one by one.”

  Hannah held her hands up and bowed from the waist. “Yes, master.”

  Half irritated, half amused, he shook his head and left her to her own devices.

  GRAY LAY DOWN ON the hard, cold floor, his hands crossed over his belly, his head resting in Carolyn’s lap. Her fingers toyed with his hair, her touch oddly restful and soothing even though the hunger loomed. The only light in their cell came from the dim bulb hanging from the ceiling, but even so he could feel the languor of the approaching dawn in his limbs. Soon, he would sleep, and when he woke again, the hunger would have grown stronger.

  “When I wake up in the evening,” he said, his voice sounding smoky even to his own ears, “keep your distance.”

  “Gray—”

  “No!” He forced his heavy eyes open. “It’s going to be worse tonight. Keep your distance. Don’t touch me, don’t talk to me. Let me concentrate all my energy on fighting the hunger.”

  “All right,” she said, her voice low and soothing. “Sleep now, Gray.” Her fingers caressed his brow, and his eyes slid closed.

  His mind slid away into the darkness, but not before he felt the phantom brush of her lips against his. And the warm, wet trickle of her tears.

  JULES PRIED HIMSELF FROM his bed the moment he could string two thoughts together without falling asleep in between. His eyes still heavy with the need for sleep, he hastily pulled on some clothes and quaffed a meal of blood and milk. Swathed in his coat and hat and scarf, he made his way through the dying daylight to the Marriott. By the time he knocked on the door to Hannah’s room, the sun was just beginning to set, and even the younger Guardians would now be waking.

  Hannah looked positively haggard when she opened the door. Her room smelled strongly of coffee, and Jules guessed the tar-scented swill on the warmer was not the first pot she’d consumed during this long day.

  “Any progress?” he asked.

  She brushed her uncombed hair away from her face and nodded. “Yeah. I found three more addresses for him. I’ve been through all the folders. If he’s still living where he was when he died …” She giggled, and Jules thought she might be on the verge of exhaustion-induced hysteria. She swallowed hard and bit her lip and somehow got herself under control. “If he’s still in the same house, we have its address. We just have to figure out which one.”

  Together, they moved to the desk, where Hannah had scrawled the addresses she had found. Jules picked up the piece of paper. And froze when he read the list.

  “What?” Hannah cried. “What is it?”

  Jules put the paper down, his heart thudding painfully against his ribs. Damn it, they’d known there had to be someone on the inside. Someone who knew who all the Guardians were, and knew their plans and movements. Why had he and Eli insisted on believing the insider was male?

  Jules pointed at the address. “We’ll find Archibald Montgomery right here,” he said, hating the sense of hurt betrayal that stabbed through him.

  “What?”
Hannah cried. “How do you know?”

  “Because that’s Deirdre MacPherson’s house.” Now that he thought about it, he realized how very easy it would have been for Deirdre to manipulate the situation from her position of “innocent” invulnerability. And he remembered how she’d subtly planted the seeds of dissension among the Guardians, with her innuendos and suggestions.

  It was Deirdre who’d first voiced the opinion that the Banger had an in with the Guardians. She’d been telling nothing but the truth, but that suspicion had stirred the rising sense of distrust among a formerly unified society.

  Hating that he had to do this, Jules picked up the phone to call Eli and tell him about Deirdre’s betrayal.

  IF THIS DIDN’T WORK, she was going to feel like the world’s biggest idiot, Carolyn thought as she pulled her shirt back on. But hey, her choices were to sit around brooding helplessly all day while Gray slept, or to try any hare-brained escape plan that came to mind. She’d pick the hare-brained scheme any day. And so she set her teeth to the underside of her bra cup and ripped. She spit out a mouthful of thread and was pleased to see the faint metal gleam of the underwire already exposed. She widened the rip until she was able to pull the length of wire out.

  When she’d examined the lock last night, Carolyn had determined that it was a standard pin-and-tumbler design, but though her stretched-out key ring wire would have made a perfectly decent pick, she still needed something to serve as a tension wrench, the element of a lock-picking kit that would actually turn the lock.

  In a pin-and-tumbler design, pairs of pins passed through the lock and wedged into the housing. The right key would lift each of the top pins until they were lodged entirely inside the housing, allowing the tumbler to turn freely. The way to pick this kind of lock was to turn the tumbler as far as it could go—just a few millimeters—and then use the pick to coax the top pins up until they rested on the tiny ledge formed by the slight turn. If you could tell by sound and feel when you’d gotten the pins lifted into place, you could pick the lock.