Page 43 of Immortal By Morning
“That is more than likely true,” Lucian agreed. “It still does not explain why the immortal would attack Abril. The bodies in the garden have been discovered. Attacking her could not have been to prevent that. In fact, the attack is the only thing that suggested this was rogue related,” he pointed out. “With the information we have at the moment, attacking her will gain them nothing.”
The men were all nodding at that when Decker noticed their arrival and asked, “Has Abril said anything that might suggest she has any connection to immortals?”
Crispin shook his head and peered at his cousin with curiosity. He’d expected Decker to head back to Toronto with his wife, Dani, when she’d finished with Abril and left. However, he’d remained behind to help out. Which he did appreciate and hoped Decker knew that. Even as he thought it, Decker caught his gaze and nodded solemnly, obviously having read his thoughts. Before Crispin could again feel annoyance at the fact that he was so easily readable now, Lucian spoke, the irritation in his voice capturing everyone’s attention again.
“So once again we have no idea what is going on.”
“Well, at least we know who the target is this time,”Anders pointed out. “We have had several cases in the past where we were not even certain of that.”
“True,” Lucian agreed as Crispin and Cassius reclaimed the seats they’d occupied during lunch.
When silence fell over the room then, Crispin found himself surveying the men all standing or sitting around the island. Lucian was the oldest having survived the fall of Atlantis. He himself was the second oldest having been born in 900 BC. Born in 600 BC, Cassius was next, then Anders who was six hundred and sixty some years old, while Decker was two hundred and seventy something and Bricker... Crispin knew Bricker was over a century old, but not by much. Most of the men here had found their life mates. They had claimed and turned them, so now knew the bliss immortals were said to experience once they were mated. It was only he and Cassius in the group who were not. Although, Crispin was on the verge of claiming his. He wished he could say he felt confident that he would be able to convince Abril to accept him as a partner in life, but he wasn’t. The possibility was better than it would have been one hundred years ago though.
Sadly, ever since Dracula had reached the market, introducing “vampires” to society, it had caused nothing but trouble for his kind. While vampires were a fictional creation—well, really a bastardization of immortals—where vampires were dead and soulless and feeding off the blood of the living, in reality, immortals were neither dead nor soulless. They were as alive as any other human being. They simply needed to take in blood on a semiregular basis to survive. However, it didn’t matter how you described it to mortals. As a rule, they simply decided immortals were vampires, and something to be feared.
Although, the movement over the last couple of decades in books, TV shows, and movies to present vampires as sympathetic, and even romantic figures, may have helped somewhat with their reputation. At least that was what he’d been told. That made him wonder if Abril happened to be a fan of one of the TV series, movies, or books that portrayed vampires that way. If so, it would greatly increase his chances of being able to claim her.
Unfortunately, Abril was a very sensible, practical woman. She didn’t strike him as someone who would fantasize about vampire lovers and being one herself. In fact, she might be one who would be repulsed at the very idea, which was his greatest concern.
“How are we going to get to the bottom of this?” Lucian asked, his gaze flickering between Roberts and Crispin in question. “From what you have learned so far, the person behind the bodies in the garden has to either be a member or members of the family who lived here when Abril’s boss purchased the house—”
“The Bransons,” Crispin supplied.
Lucian continued as if he had never spoken, “—or the couple who built and lived here for three or four years before them.”
“The Foleys,” Roberts offered the second name they’d managed to learn while going door to door, questioning the neighbors.
“But you have not yet had the opportunity to talk to either couple?” Lucian finished in question.
“No,” Crispin admitted. “We only found out the name of the original owners of this house from thelast neighbors we spoke to. Most of the neighbors are newer, having moved onto the street in the last ten years or less. But the older couple who live in the first house on the street, the Jamisons, were one of the originals, who built their home at the same time as the Foleys. They knew the history of the house. Who had lived here, why and when they left, and so on.”
“Which is?” Lucian questioned.
“The Foleys were a young couple with one child, a boy,” Roberts explained. “They were hit by a drunk driver while driving home from a day out with their son. The young son was killed in the accident and the wife was paralyzed from the waist down and needed a wheelchair to get around. She and the husband remained here for about a year after the accident. The Jamisons said the wife had become a shut-in, and they thought the memories here were just too much for her to bear, so she and her husband sold and moved away. They had no idea where to though.”
“We intended to do some research today, to find contact information for the Foleys and Bransons and to speak to them,” Crispin added. “But then Abril was attacked, and our plans went to hell.”
Lucian nodded. “Then perhaps someone should do that now.”
“I can handle that,” Roberts said, getting to his feet.
“Anders, go with him,” Lucian ordered. “One of the couples is most likely responsible for the bodies and undoubtedly connected to an immortal. He should not go alone.”
“I can go with him,” Crispin protested as Anders got to his feet. “It is my job.”
“Your job now is Abril,” Lucian countered. “I suspect she would be terribly uncomfortable to wake up and find herself alone with five men she has only just met. Besides, the first thing you are going to do when she wakes up is have that talk with her.”
Crispin’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t comment as Anders and Roberts left the kitchen. Once they were gone, he stood and moved to get a glass from the cupboard, then got himself some water. When he then turned and leaned against the counter to drink it, his attention moved to the sliding glass doors. He paused abruptly before the glass had reached his lips.
“What is happening?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he peered out at the empty tent outside. “Where did the forensics team go?”
“Their memories—along with Officer Peters’s—were wiped and they were sent back to police headquarters,” Lucian told him.
“What?” Crispin asked with outrage.
“We are dealing with a rogue here,” Lucian pointed out. “When dealing with rogues, we always make sure it is not on the mortal radar. This is no different.”
“But what about the identities of the people buried here and the bones themselves?” Crispin asked sharply. “If the forensics team does not do the work, we will not be able to ID the skeletons. The victims and their families will never have closure.”
