Keeper of the Shadows

chapter 14



Barrie woke slowly. Her room was flooded with afternoon light, and she felt deliciously sore—and not just from dancing. She could still smell Mick’s aftershave on her pillow and on her skin, mixing with her own scent and the smell of passion, and she felt flames between her legs as fantasies of their lovemaking invaded her thoughts. No, not fantasies, memories. It had all really happened, every exotic detail. She sighed, rolled over and opened her eyes.

She was alone in bed.

But she saw a note and a rose on the pillow beside her.

She reached for the paper and read, and felt her breath stop. She dropped back on the pillow, delirious with sudden wanting, imagined his body rising up hard and naked over hers, to claim her again....

And then a sudden and unnerving thought.

I want him. Not just want him, like, now.... I want him. Always.

The heat in her face was no longer desire but confusion mixed with a little bit of terror.

Oh, my God. This is real.

The erotic afterglow disappeared in the overwhelming reality crashing in on her.

After all, where was he? Rose on the pillow and pornographic note aside, she was alone in bed, wasn’t she? Except for the cat. Who was giving her a wide berth this morning, as she absolutely should be, given that her mistress had apparently lost her mind.

Focus, focus, focus, Barrie told herself with a touch of panic, or maybe that was hysteria. You’re investigating a murder—or two, or three. Do your job.

She sat up and looked at the clock. Amazingly, still before eleven.

She knew she was in for a barrage of questions from her cousins, but she couldn’t very well miss the Morning Report, so she jumped out of bed and headed straight into the shower to wash off the telltale traces of the night, absolutely not allowing herself to think of Mick in the shower and almost succeeding, and then pulled on a severe gray dress that was the closest thing she had to a nun’s habit. She forced herself to slow down and walk what she hoped was nonchalantly over to the main house. It wasn’t easy, given that her body felt both charged with electricity and lighter than air.

All pretense of nonchalance instantly vanished as she walked through the back door into the kitchen. Sailor and Rhiannon were there at the breakfast bar, and they both jumped up as she walked in.

“Tell tell tell!” demanded Sailor.

“Tell what?” Barrie said innocently. She closed the door behind her and tried to keep a straight face as she walked to the counter to pour herself coffee.

“A certain shifter departed the house at dawn in a limo,” Rhiannon said mock-sternly. “And these came an hour ago.” She indicated a huge spread of flowers displayed in a vase on the cutting board. “I had the deliveryman bring them here, because I think we have a right to know.”

Barrie felt her breath quicken at the flowers, an absolutely breathtaking tropical arrangement. There was a card, but she certainly wasn’t going to read it in front of her cousins.

Instead she took a casual swallow of coffee. “I had a nice time.”

“Oh, a nice time,” Sailor mimicked her. “You look like you swallowed a klieg light.”

Barrie gave up on nonchalance and what was left of her mind as a rush of endorphins and exultation rushed through her. “All right, I had a fantastic time. A fabulous, mind-bending, once-in-a-lifetime time.”

And all the cousins burst into giggles like teenagers.

“That’s more like it.” Sailor shoved her playfully. “The man is stunning. He could be a movie star.”

“Oh, he was,” Barrie said, and burst into giggles again. “He was about ten of them.” This time Sailor and Rhiannon stared at her, mystified, and she got hold of herself enough to tell them about the little shifter show Mick had put on for her.

“Wow,” Rhiannon said admiringly. “Not just gorgeous but fun. You may want to keep him.”

“Shifters do have their uses,” Sailor said.

“It wasn’t all fun and games, you know,” Barrie said, trying to get some control over the conversation. Good luck with that, she thought to herself. “I was working. And I got an interview with DJ.”

“You’re kidding!” Sailor was wide-eyed. “Barrie, that’s fantastic.”

“He wants me to come to his house today. Tonight. Well, at dusk.”

“At dusk?” Rhiannon looked skeptical. “What kind of a lame vampire trope is that supposed to be? Vamps are just as capable of moving around in daylight as we are.”

“Oh, I think he was just being edgy,” Barrie said, but Rhiannon was on a roll.

“That’s not edgy, that’s perpetuating a damaging Hollywood-created stereotype.”

Sailor rolled her eyes and held up a hand to stop her cousin. “Rhiannon, it’s DJ. He’s being a movie star.”

Rhiannon wasn’t placated. She turned to Barrie. “Is Mick going with you?”

Barrie hesitated. “DJ only asked me.”

“I’m not sure I like that.” Rhiannon frowned. “Is it going to be safe for you?”

Sailor chimed in, “Yeah, last we heard DJ was one of your suspects for Johnny Love’s murder.”

“If it was murder,” Barrie corrected absently, but she knew her cousins had a point.

“And DJ is a vampire,” Rhiannon reminded her. Rhiannon never let her cousins forget that vampires were potentially the most dangerous of the Others.

“I don’t think you should go alone,” Sailor said.

“That’s two of us,” Rhiannon said firmly.

“I’ll go with you,” Sailor said.

“We’ll all go,” Rhiannon corrected.

Barrie stood, raising her voice just to get a word in. “Wait a minute, wait a minute. What do you think he’s going to do, murder me in his own house?”

“Mansion,” Sailor said. “More like a palace. With lots of grounds to bury you on. In.”

“He’s a vampire,” Rhiannon repeated. “And it’s a murder case.”

Barrie threw up her hands in frustration. “We can’t show up en masse. I’ll never be able to get anything out of him. I need to have a casual, personal, one-on-one chat with him, and I can’t do that with you two hovering.”

But she knew immediately from the stormy look on Rhiannon’s face that that wasn’t going to fly, so she reversed tacks. “I’ll take Mick, then,” she said quickly. “All right?”

Rhiannon and Sailor looked at each other, and after a moment they both nodded warily. “That should be all right,” Rhiannon said.

“I guess,” Sailor said.

Rhiannon added, “And you make sure he knows that plenty of people know you’re there.”

“I will,” Barrie promised, although she intended no such thing. She wasn’t going to scare off the best lead she’d had so far.

* * *

She came into the Cave with her arms full of the flowers Mick had sent, feeling light-headed from the sweet and heady fragrance. She wanted to call him to thank him, but found herself in that classic female dilemma: the man is supposed to call first or you look too eager, too clingy.

Screw that, she thought. She set the flowers down on a side table and reached for the phone, an old-Hollywood-style Sultan with a huge silver receiver and a big rotary dial. Then she hesitated, visions of Dorothy Parker floating unwanted in her head.

But he sent flowers, the eager part of her piped up. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t want to see you again.

Unless he wanted to let you down gracefully, the cynic replied.

That’s not a let-down bouquet, her eager side argued, and she reached for the phone again.

Don’t you dare, the cynic snarled.

Barrie pulled back her hand as if the handset had burned her. She bit a nail, looking at the phone, debating....

And it rang.

She caught her breath—and snatched up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Is this the staggeringly beautiful, breathtakingly sexy Barrie Gryffald?”

His voice absolutely turned her molten; she felt as if she were going to pass out.

Somehow she managed to sit on the plush chair by the telephone table and smiled into the phone. “Never heard of her.”

“Damn, I was afraid it was too good to be true.”

“I got the flowers,” she said, almost whispering, though there was no one but Sophie the cat to hear them. “They’re gorgeous, thank you.”

“The pleasure was all mine.”

She laughed and blushed. “If that’s what you think you weren’t paying attention.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll have to look again. What are you doing tonight?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I plan to show you,” he said, and she nearly swooned again. Then his voice got serious. “But first, we need to talk. I don’t think you should see DJ alone.”

Barrie came down from her dreamy cloud in a rush of irritation. Did everyone think she was going to be stupid about this? She had to see DJ alone; she was sure it was her best chance of having a real talk with him.

“My cousins beat you to it. They’ve already insisted I not go alone,” she told him. It wasn’t really lying. She didn’t say that she’d agreed to take them.

Mick sounded relieved. “Good. Even if he weren’t a possible suspect, DJ is unpredictable. A vampire and a substance abuser.”

“And an actor,” Barrie quipped, but Mick didn’t seem to think it was funny.

“I want you three to be very careful.”

Now he was sounding protective and possessive in a way that thrilled her as much as it pissed her off.

“Don’t worry, Rhiannon has already given us the ‘vampires are dangerous’ lecture.”

“All right, then. I want you in one piece tonight.”

“Really?” she managed nonchalantly. “What for?”

And he proceeded to tell her. Which took up a very hot half hour.

As Barrie hung up the phone, it was more than clear to her that she was in real trouble with this man. And worse...she didn’t care a bit.

* * *

What do you wear to a movie star’s house?

If Barrie hadn’t been so completely floating in afterglow, she might have had another full-fledged clothes panic. As it was, the aftermath of yesterday’s clothes panic was still cycloned all over the room.

She smiled, remembering how Mick had joked about it—and then how he’d removed that perfect dress....

Okay, stop that, she told herself sternly, pulling herself out of her dreamy daze. You need to have your mind squarely on this interview. No fantasizing, or flashing back, or any of that—stuff.

She zapped on her bedroom TV to check the local news as she dressed. She started with her favorite La Perla lingerie. In her experience knowing that you were wearing the best, even if it went completely unseen, was a major confidence boost.

As she was hooking her lacy flowered bra, the entertainment report came on, and there was Harvey Hodge with a larger-than-life smirk, delivering his review of Rocket Man.

Of course H.H. made it sound as if the premiere had been the party of the year, which in her state she was not about to argue. She got a big kick out of Harvey’s rundown of the attending celebrities; by her count Mick’s shifts accounted for half of the guest list. Laughter bubbled up in her, and she flung herself onto the bed, giggling into her pillow. After a moment there was a featherlight bounce on the bed as Sophie jumped up to see what was happening, and Barrie reached for the kitty and cuddled her....

Until something on the TV made her bolt upright.

Harvey had continued down the guest list and was now talking about Travis Branson. Barrie scooped Sophie up and stood, walking toward the TV to make sure she heard every word Harvey spoke.

“There’s a rumor around town—and you know I don’t spill it if I can’t stand by it—that the remake of the cult classic Otherworld has a silent backer. So, it looks like those sexy, scary Others will be back, film fans, coming soon to a theater near you. This is Harvey Hodge, your Entertainment Connection, wishing you an entertaining evening. Stay tuned and stay hip.”

The news cut to the latest high-speed car chase, and Barrie muted the TV, frowning in concern.

So, the remake was going through.

Her heart fluttered with apprehension.

What would that mean for everyone associated with the film...who was still alive?

* * *

DJ lived in Brentwood, where Sunset Boulevard turned into canyon and park as it began its winding descent toward the ocean.

When she’d looked at the map DJ’s assistant had e-mailed her, Barrie had found it odd that DJ wasn’t in some swank place on the beach in Malibu. But as she drove the winding roads up to his compound, she understood. It was the land. Even the biggest movie people and rock stars in Malibu sacrificed the American dream of a backyard for their beachfront properties; there was just no extra inch of sand to be had. In contrast, it looked like DJ had not just acres but miles of land: grassy, wooded hills, and total seclusion.

For whatever, Barrie thought morbidly, and immediately scolded herself. Open mind, remember? Keep an open mind. Vampires are human, too. I mean—they’re something, anyway.

The gate was a set of tall metal doors in a thick concrete wall and there was a guardhouse. Barrie had to steady her voice to give her name, and the guard walked around the car, checking under it with a mirror on a long hooked pole like the ones guards used at airports and studio gates.

What is he expecting, a terrorist attack? she thought, unnerved. For the first time she wondered if maybe Mick and her cousins had been right about the “don’t go alone” thing. Then the gates rolled open electronically, and she swallowed and drove forward.

There was a long, winding drive up to the house, and it felt like driving through several different countries; as far as Barrie could tell the grounds had not been landscaped with gardens but rather there were whole different, discrete ecosystems, just as you would find at museum-class botanical collections like the Huntington Gardens.

The money it must have cost to develop and maintain all this... she marveled, and then forgot all that as the house came into view. It was Tudor and huge, more like a European estate than an American one, towering against the setting sun like a Transylvanian castle.

Barrie parked the car in the circular drive, right in front of the massive front steps.

What the hell...?

For costuming, at the last minute she’d decided on the Audrey Hepburn look, a simple wine-shaded sheath that let her legs and coloring do all the work for her. After all, there was no way she could out-starlet the starlets DJ was used to having around. Keep it simple and keep it professional, that’s all.

She checked her face in the mirror, decided she looked terrified and shouldn’t have looked, and got out of the car to climb the grand sweep of steps up to the portico.

An assistant opened the door, a young male vampire with dark hair moussed to within an inch of its life. In Hollywood assistants did everything, from picking up dry cleaning to walking their employers’ dogs to procuring drugs and prostitutes, so it was no great surprise to see this one doing double duty as a butler. And no surprise that he was a vampire, either. Others very often hired assistants, secretaries and coworkers of their own Kind so they could be free in their behavior instead of constantly guarding the secret of their Otherness.

“Barrie, hi!” the assistant said with manic enthusiasm. “I’m Brad! He’s just finishing up another meeting! He’ll be just a few minutes. Just come with me!”

Three “justs,” four verbal exclamation points and no reason to refer to DJ by name, Barrie noted as she followed Brad! into the manor. He walked her into a high entry hall and through an archway...into an atrium that had to be bigger than a Vegas casino. But this one looked startlingly like an African jungle. There were groves of trees that didn’t look as if they belonged in California, a small river—okay, stream was probably more accurate—with bridges at convenient places, landscaping as realistic as any movie set. The room was alive, and not just with plant life. Barrie could hear what she was sure were real monkeys chattering in the trees above her, and as she looked around her, wild colorful birds took flight from the undergrowth, up toward the light of the domed ceiling. Though it was going to be dark outside, in here it seemed like a sunny afternoon.

“This is the African Room!” Brad explained.

“Yes, it is,” Barrie murmured. Island of Lost Souls is more like it. “Is there an Arctic Room?” she joked.

“Of course!” the assistant answered.

She had no idea if he was serious, but she wouldn’t have been a bit surprised if there were any number of life-size dioramas in the manor. She stared into the luxuriant foliage, half expecting to see elephants—and then flinched back in shock. Gleaming eyes stared at her from the undergrowth, and she made out the gold-and-black fur of a huge cat, poised to spring....

“Don’t worry about Steve,” the assistant said quickly, but with a touch of amusement; Barrie got the distinct feeling he enjoyed this part of his job. “He’s stuffed.”

“Steve?” she gasped.

“He’s the greeter. DJ likes to get people’s blood flowing.”

Vampire humor. Charming.

“This way.” Brad took her along a path that crossed the river twice on different types of bridges. As she followed him, Barrie felt more and more as if she were in a dream—or a movie.

There were living spaces in this jungle: a cave with a collection of rocks vaguely shaped like furniture, a harem sort of tent with gauzy veils and low pillows, an enormous tree straight out of Lord of the Rings, but with a bar and conversation area carved into the hollow trunk. Throughout the room the temperature was higher than outside, a suggestion of warmth while still being perfectly comfortable. It was impossible to tell how big the space was, as the path and river took circuitous routes that made walking through it seem like a real journey, and the wall-size murals and scrims were trompe l’oeil, giving the impression of vast distances. No doubt it had all been put together by some Oscar-winning production designer. It never ceased to amaze Barrie how much talent was crammed into the city, and DJ had the money to pay for the absolute best.

She followed Brad around another curving rock and stopped. The path ended at a large canvas tent decked out with all the luxury items one would expect on a fantasy safari: a teak desk, carved teak chairs, along with wicker ones in intricate patterns, a zebra rug.

And then there were all the modern accoutrements: desktop computer, laptop, iPad, phone system. She assumed there were concealed speakers, as well.

“The office,” Brad explained unnecessarily.

And beyond the tent there was an elephant. Life-size, and too realistic to be anything but the real thing, professionally taxidermied. Barrie felt a frisson of horror and anger at the sight of that magnificent creature, stuffed and displayed. It’s just not right.

But social outrage was going to get her nowhere here. She stifled her human response and followed Brad into the tent.

He crossed to a wet bar in the corner and poured rosy, icy drinks from a chilled glass pitcher.

She took the glass warily. There was no obvious smell of blood, so she sipped, and found she was drinking a virgin version of a Cosmo.

“Expecting something just a bit stronger?” a familiar voice said behind her. Barrie jumped; the voice sounded as close as if someone had leaned in to whisper into her ear. But when she turned, DJ was standing several yards away, observing her with a hint of amusement. Words like hypnotic, feral, mesmerizing, predatory ran through her mind in a jumble, and she found herself as intimidated as she had been the night before. The actor’s eyes were especially riveting—nearly black—and he never seemed to take those eyes off her.

Brad the assistant had disappeared, and Barrie was acutely aware that she was alone in a secluded, guarded manor with a volatile and possibly not entirely sane vampire who might well be out of the reach of all human law.

I am in such trouble, she thought. And then she got hold of herself.

“This is an amazing place,” she said, to break the spell.

“Do you know Africa?” he asked.

“I’ve heard of it,” she said dryly.

“It’s bigger,” DJ said. “You should go. The game alone...”

Barrie had no idea what to say to that. DJ walked the tent in a prowling circle that was more animal than human.

“So, Keeper,” he said, and his voice was so sibilant it could have been the voice of a snake. “You are sworn to protect all Others.”

“All Others who live by the Code,” she said, and was amazed at how steady her voice sounded. But suddenly she was not a starstruck thirteen-year-old meeting a legendary movie star. She was a Keeper, as responsible for that movie star as she was for a teenage street urchin. She felt the power of her ancestral duty surge through her veins, and she faced DJ as an equal. She thanked her father in her heart.

“Ah, the Code,” DJ said with irony. “How would we live without it?” He looked around them and then spread his hands theatrically. “Let’s stroll, shall we?”

Barrie nodded and followed him into the jungle.

As DJ walked her through the trails of the African Room, Barrie understood what a feat of design the...set? Diorama? Terrarium?...actually was. She forgot that they were in an enclosed, designed space, because the sights and sounds and smells were so perfectly orchestrated to create the illusion of an African veldt. She gasped as they came across a perfectly poised lion.

“It’s beautiful,” she told the actor.

“It was delicious, too,” he said. She looked at him, aghast, and he gave her a catlike smile. “Of course I killed it. I killed everything here. Not a single part goes to waste, as you see.”

She had to force down her feelings of revulsion and focus herself to remember why she was there, but when she spoke it was with amazing calm.

“I came today because I’m investigating what I believe is a dual murder. And I think it’s intimately connected with the death of Johnny Love and whatever happened on the set of Otherworld.”

It was absolutely impossible to read the look on the actor’s face. “You’re talking about Solly, obviously. Are you saying he was offed because of the movie? Fifteen years later?” He sounded incredulous, skeptical and bored all in the same breath.

Barrie ignored his tone and kept on point. “I think it’s a strong possibility.”

DJ stopped on the path and looked at her. “This requires a drink.” He headed toward the hollow tree with the bar. After a moment Barrie followed him. She was acutely aware that he had not asked her about the “dual” part of the murder, only about Mayo. Does that mean he already knows about Tiger?

Inside the tree, behind the bar, DJ was pouring a shot of some intensely red liquid from a decanter. “And you?” he asked her, gesturing to the well-stocked shelves.

“I’m fine, thanks,” she said, and sat on one of the wicker barstools to wait while the star downed his drink.

He touched his fingers to his lips, dabbing away a drop of crimson. “Murder would be inconvenient, seeing as I’ve been in talks to star in the remake. Does that mean I’m in mortal danger?” He gave a mocking full-body shudder.

Barrie looked at him steadily. “I think it means that you need to take every precaution for your safety until we get to the bottom of these murders.”

He dropped the comic posture, and his black eyes pierced hers. “As reassurance goes, that was an epic fail.”

Again, he was not asking about the other murder, but as ominous as that was, she kept her voice calm and purposeful.

“It wasn’t reassurance, it was a warning. I don’t think you can be too careful right now.”

“Grim, but honest.” He moved out from behind the bar, circling her, studying her. In the enclosed space, it was hard for her to keep cool, but she steadied herself and held her ground. “So, what is it you want from me, Keeper?” he challenged her.

“I want to know what happened to Johnny Love,” she said straight-out. She had not at all known that she was going to say it, but once it was out, she knew it was the only possible thing she could have said. He was going to talk to her or he wasn’t; there was no small talk she could possibly make.

He half smiled, but his eyes were distant. “You and the entire world.”

“But do you know?” She was amazed that her voice sounded so firm. Inside she was shaking like a leaf. She felt on the precipice of some vast unknown.

DJ leaned suddenly forward on the bar. His voice was expansive and dangerous. “You mean, was I conscious enough to understand? To be able to give an accurate account?”

“Were you?” she asked back without flinching.

He straightened, lifted his hands. “So sorry. I don’t remember,” he said.

The tropical birds called exotically somewhere in the atrium, and DJ said nothing more. It could have been the truth, or a lie, or anything; she had no way of knowing. She tried a different tack.

“Were Johnny and Mayo...” she hesitated “...involved?”

He smiled a cat smile. “Involved? How delicate of you. You mean were they f*cking? The better question is, who wasn’t Johnny f*cking? The boy was a whore.”

Barrie bristled. “He was sixteen. He was still a child.”

“There are no children on movie sets. You grow up...or you die.”

She stared into his face. “Well, Johnny died.”

“That will happen when you play with fire,” he snapped.

“Tell me what you mean,” she said quickly. She could see his eyes flare, but after a moment he spoke.

“Johnny would use anyone to get what he wanted. He was f*cking Branson to get more scenes in the movie, he was f*cking Mayo to get more promotional face time.” DJ smiled again, slyly. “I learned a lot from him.”

Barrie caught her breath. “So...you think he was killed because someone felt used? Mayo? Branson?”

“Or maybe because he and Travis were starting to talk big about making Otherworld a coming-out party. For Others.”

“Oh, my gosh,” she murmured. If they really had been talking about breaking the silence and revealing the existence of the Otherworld to humans, the suspect pool had just become millions.

She forced herself back to the conversation while still trying to avoid DJ’s hypnotic black eyes. “Then...you think he was killed because someone thought he was going to break the silence?”

“I never said he was killed,” DJ said maddeningly.

“But do you think so?” Barrie persisted.

He waved a finger at her and dropped into one of the club chairs in the hollow tree, gazing up at her. “You tell me what you think, and I’ll tell you if you’re hot or cold.”

She hesitated, and thought of Mayo hiring a shifter of Johnny’s age to play Johnny. “I think Mayo was obsessed with Johnny.”

DJ dropped his head onto the back of his chair and laughed, then sat straight up, startling her. “Everyone was obsessed with Johnny. You’re obsessed with Johnny.”

Barrie realized he had a point.

DJ flung a leg over the arm of his chair and studied her. “Johnny cultivated obsession. It was a highly successful career strategy.” He leaned forward abruptly, with the trick that vampires had of moving faster than light; it suddenly felt as if he was right in front of her face, and she had to bite back a scream. “This is old news, Keeper. What do you really know?”

Barrie took a breath to steady herself, and even so she struggled to keep her voice even. “I talked to a cast member from the original movie who said Johnny died on set. Before the film was finished shooting.”

DJ looked honestly startled.

But he’s an actor, she reminded herself grimly.

He looked away, then back at her. “Fascinating. But it rather begs the question of who I was acting with the final week. Granted, we were partying pretty hard by then. Still, even tripping my brains out I think I would have noticed if my costar had disappeared.”

Barrie felt her stomach drop in disappointment. It was exactly the same thing that Darius had said. The biggest piece of the puzzle she’d found didn’t seem to fit.

“So, why would anyone say it?” she asked.

He lifted his shoulders dramatically. “People say all sorts of things about the film behind closed doors. A lot of people had every interest in making Johnny’s death legendary. It was good for the movie.”

She stared at him, aghast. “You’re not saying...that someone killed him to make the movie a success?”

He smiled at her as if she were a child. “Oh, now, you’re acting as if the idea is some kind of surprise. I thought you grew up in this town.”

And so I did, but I don’t know who told you so, she thought.

“Are you in touch with Robbie Anderson?” she asked out of the blue.

He barked a laugh. “Robbie. What do you mean, through a Ouija board?”

“You think he’s dead?”

“Dead, or living a quiet, normal, entirely uneventful life somewhere—what’s the difference? Shifters often die young, you know.”

Even if I didn’t, you vampires keep pointing it out to me, she thought.

“You must know why he disappeared,” she said impulsively. “Johnny dead, Robbie missing—I think you may be the only one in the world who knows why, really.”

She knew she’d struck a chord, because for a moment he was completely silent and still.

“I would be the only person who knew...if I knew. Which I don’t,” he said.

She was getting tired of the Cheshire cat riddles. On impulse, she said, “I think maybe someone was threatening all three of you. Using you.”

He flicked a hand. “Everyone was using everyone else.”

“But you three were kids. Sixteen years old. It wasn’t a level playing field.”

He looked away from her, but she could feel something in him responding to what she was saying.

“You have so much power now. You could expose whoever was using Johnny, Robbie, you...all of you. You could heal a very old wound.”

He exploded to his feet, lashing out with a rage that didn’t just startle but frightened her. “Everyone involved with that film ended up dead or damned. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” He was so angry she could see red in the corners of his eyes and the beginning of fangs. He was on the brink of Changing, and that was not good.

She stood very still and kept her voice very quiet, and even knowing how dangerous the situation had suddenly gotten, she still had to ask, “Are you saying you think the film was cursed?”

He smiled ambiguously, and though the redness was fading from his eyes, he didn’t look entirely human. “It made me what I am. What would you say?”

They stood silently, then he turned and stepped out of the tree, walking off down the trail until he disappeared into the trees.

She stood for a moment with her heart racing and the river rushing in her ears, then she started back along the winding path through the “jungle.” Her thoughts were whirling as she tried to get some grip on what had just happened.

The leaves rustled right beside her and she whirled with her heart racing—to see Brad the assistant step out of the undergrowth.

“I’ll see you out,” he said neutrally, for once not an exclamation point in sight.

* * *

As they stepped outside onto the portico, she was startled to see that it was full dark; she’d forgotten the real time in the artificial light of the African Room. And even more startling, her car was gone.

“The guard moved it,” Brad said behind her. “I’ll have it brought around right away.”

Okay, maybe it just wasn’t nice enough to leave right in front of the house. But I didn’t give anyone my keys, Barrie thought uneasily. Instead of saying it aloud, she thanked him and walked down the stairs to the curb to wait.

The door closed at the top of the stairs, and darkness surrounded her. The estate was remarkably quiet; she could hear the rustle of wind through eucalyptus leaves and night bird sounds in the tops of trees, and there were stars, actual stars, appearing in the sky, not something anyone saw too often in the city.

She heard a flipping and splashing somewhere nearby, and turned to look. Beside the roundabout of the drive there was a large pond, apparently stocked with fish; as she watched, she saw one leap, glimmering briefly in the moonlight before it splashed back into the water.

She walked closer to the pond and looked down at the moon on the water, and thought back over the strange interview.

DJ’s feelings toward Johnny could at best be described as ambivalent; even fifteen years dead, Johnny obviously still inspired some serious jealousy. It couldn’t be easy for an actor to still be trying to compete with a tragically dead young star.

But could DJ have killed him? Would he have?

At the time of Johnny’s death, DJ had been only sixteen years old himself. Sixteen-year-olds were capable of murder; gang shootings proved that far too often. But movie stars rarely killed other movie stars.

Most movie stars aren’t vampires, either, she reminded herself. And just as she thought it, she felt the brush of air against her face as something swooped by her.

Something huge.

Barrie stumbled and spun in a panic, her breath catching in her throat as she stared up into the dark night.

The stars glittered above and the wind was light and teasing, but her bloodstream was flooded with adrenaline, the ancient fight-or-flight instinct. She wasn’t alone. She could feel someone watching, could feel eyes on her skin as if she were being watched from a high vantage point.

She turned to run back toward the house, but the invisible creature whooshed at her again, a large, live, breathing force, this time barely missing her.

Barrie didn’t think, didn’t scream, she just ran. She felt the push of air beside her again, this time accompanied by the warmth of breath on her neck, such a crawly feeling she would have screamed if she weren’t so intent on fleeing.

Her winged attacker circled, forcing her away from the house, toward the eucalyptus grove.

She ran and threw a look over her shoulder, her heart plummeting as she saw her pursuer for the first time, a big winged thing, an enormous dark shadow like an ancient pterodactyl.

Vampire.

Barrie felt low desert scrub scratching at her bare legs, drawing blood as she ran.

So not good, she realized; the vampire would only be more aroused by the scent.

She ran harder, heels pounding in the sand, scanning the dark frantically for someplace to take refuge. To the right of her there was a gulch, an amazingly authentic desert ravine, with sandstone cliffs and a dry riverbed, saguaro cactus and the towering shadows of Joshua trees.

She knew she had to shift, to buy herself some time with camouflage, but it was hard enough to shift or even glamour when you were standing still, much less when you were running for your life.

Still, she forced herself to focus on her astral body, fixed the image of a moth in her mind, something small, insignificant to the huge creature pursuing her....

And as she was concentrating...she ran straight into someone who grabbed her with strong arms.

Mick.

He pulled her down against the nearest boulder, shielding her with his body.

Barrie could feel the warm sand under her legs and hands, and Mick’s strong body tense beside her, protective and pissed.

She leaned into his shoulder, gasping for breath, and looked up into the sky, scanning for the vampire. The night was black and the stars were bright, and the wind flowed and whispered around them, but she could see nothing, hear nothing. Mick’s arms were tight around her, and she could feel his heart racing against her back.

“I don’t...see it,” she whispered. He rested his chin on her head and said nothing.

But after a prolonged moment of silence, he unfolded himself to stand, pulling her up with him.

“Out of here. Now,” he ordered. He pulled her along the boulders in the direction of the front drive, keeping close to the shelter of the rocks.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered.

“It looks like I’m trying to keep you from being drained of blood,” he said tensely as he stared up into the night sky.

“It’s not like that,” she began, even though she could still barely breathe through the wild pounding of her own heart.

“Oh, it’s not. What is it like, then?” he said, still scanning the sky as he steered her up the incline toward the mansion.

“Well, sort of like being pursued by a vampire and rescued by a shape-shifter before any bloodshed or mayhem, something like that,” she admitted, breathless. As they crested the slope, she saw the Bentley parked and waiting.

“Good, we’re looking at the same picture, anyway. Get in the car,” he said.

“I have my own—” she started.

“Philip will come and take your car back. You’re coming with me.”

It was hard to argue with someone who had a spare driver to toss around like that, so she shut up and got in, sinking into the comfort and safety of the car as Mick shut the door after her.

The Bentley wasn’t as roomy as the limo, but it was more luxurious, in its way. There was even a bud vase on the dashboard, with a fresh rosebud. Barrie couldn’t take her eyes off it. It helped steer her mind away from her brush with death.

“Nice touch,” she said weakly, feeling her body go limp with the adrenaline crash.

“Don’t talk to me,” he said stonily as he started the car and steered down the drive.

“Why not?” she asked, startled.

“Because I am really, really angry with you right now.”

Barrie was silenced. He did sound furious. She huddled meekly in her seat, and he said nothing more until the tall metal gates of the estate were shutting behind them in the dark.

“Your cousins insisted on coming with you, hmm?” he said in a voice that could have cut glass.

“Things...came up....” She knew she was busted, but the excuse bubbled up, anyway.

“Right. What came up was a vampire in full-attack mode.”

“You saw it,” she said in a small voice.

“Hard to miss,” he said grimly, and took a bottle of water from the console, handed it to her. “Drink this. You’re probably in shock.”

She meekly took the water, and the second she tipped it up to her lips she realized she was practically dying of thirst. She drank almost the whole thing down, then sat back in the seat and sneaked a look at Mick, who was stiff and silent beside her as he drove. “Was it DJ?” she ventured.

He looked at her for a moment. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice flat. “It was a vampire.”

Great, she thought. That part I knew.

“What happened in there?” he finally asked, his hands tight on the steering wheel as he negotiated the curving and pitch-black canyon road.

“It was...amazing. He’s got a whole environment going. Trees. Dead big game. A river.” She was aware that she didn’t sound entirely coherent, but she couldn’t help herself. “Why did you come? What did you think was going to happen?” she asked on impulse.

“I came because I had a feeling you were lying to me,” he answered, his voice flat. “I have no idea what I thought was going to happen. With DJ, he could be just playing—or not playing at all.” And then, much more softly, he said, “Impossible.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“With DJ...impossible to tell.”

There was something in his voice that puzzled her. “How do you know him?” Because the way he was talking, it was obvious that he did.

He glanced at her in the dark, then away. “He’s a major contributor to the Circle Foundation,” he said with a hint of irony.

“Really,” Barrie said.

“I’m not sure that he actually knows it,” Mick added. “But the checks keep coming.”

“Well. How nice for you,” she said.

“It is,” he agreed. “Very nice. His name looks good on the masthead. These things mean something. Money makes money.”

She nodded, processing this.

“Did he say anything useful?” Mick asked in a voice that implied that he doubted it.

“I think so,” Barrie said slowly, although she was struggling to remember exactly what DJ had said that was in any way helpful.

“And?” Mick was waiting.

“He said that Johnny was on set until the movie wrapped,” she said. “And he said...” To her own total surprise, she burst into tears.

“Hey,” Mick said from the driver’s seat, alarmed. He reached over and took her hand. “What?”

It was a minute before she could get enough of a hold on herself to control her sobs. “It seems like everyone was using Johnny. DJ said that Johnny was in control. But he was a kid, a kid. I don’t care how famous or how rich or how gorgeous, they were all just kids, all three of them. They were being used—by everyone—and it destroyed all three of them.”

Mick was completely silent in the driver’s seat beside her, as if rendered speechless by her outburst. He looked out the window at the dark and winding road of the canyon, and he said nothing, but his fingers were warm and strong around hers as she cried it out.

Finally she swallowed and spoke. “You don’t think so,” she said dully.

“I don’t think I’m in a position to judge,” he said, without looking at her. “But you do know that you can’t believe a word he says.”

“I’m not stupid,” she said defensively. “The fact is he may not remember anything that happened on that film all that clearly. There are probably whole parts of his life he doesn’t remember.”

“Exactly,” Mick said, and looked slightly less tense. They rode in silence for what seemed like forever.

“What do you think?” he asked finally.

Barrie bit her lip, thinking of the past hour, of the past three days. “I think a lot of people wanted Johnny dead,” she said.

* * *

When the Bentley drove through the gates of the House of the Rising Sun, Barrie saw that her own Peugeot was already parked in the drive. Mick pulled in beside it and stopped the car.

“Like teleporting,” she murmured.

“What?” he asked. He had been silent in his seat for the last few miles.

“Nothing,” she said, not knowing what else to say.

“Barrie,” he said, and the intensity of his voice nearly made her heart stop.

“What?” she said, her mouth dry.

He turned to her, took her face in his hands and stroked her cheeks with his fingers. She caught her breath and looked into his eyes, willing him to kiss her, but he didn’t. It seemed as if he was struggling with himself. “I want to stay...if you want me to.” But before she could answer he added, “But there’s something I need to do tonight. It can’t wait.”

And before she could react, he was opening his car door and shutting it again, and almost as suddenly he was opening her door to let her out.

She got out of the car, and he walked silently beside her to her porch where he took her by the shoulders, his fingers digging into her bare arms. “I want you to be very careful. I think you should stay with one of your cousins tonight, and none of you should go out at all.”

Barrie was torn between longing...and a ripple of fear. “I have no plans,” she finally managed. “I think I’ll just make some popcorn and turn in.”

“Good,” he said. “Lock the door. Lock everything.” And then he bent to her and kissed her so thoroughly she completely forgot to ask what was making him so serious and scary all of a sudden.

Finally he drew back slightly, resting his forehead against hers, and she could feel his pulse racing just as hers was, as his fingers moved at the back of her neck. “I’ll see you as soon as I can,” he said against her cheek.

And then he was moving away from her, and there was the sound of a car door and an engine starting and the Bentley was gone.