Night Walker Read online

  But the longer she played, the more she wondered what he would do with her mother’s instrument. Betty told her he was an accomplished pianist. Would his fingers touch these keys?

  It was hopeless. Kate closed the cover over the keyboard and grabbed her purse. She was going to a movie. It didn’t matter what was showing, as long as it gave her something else to think about.

  …

  Word of Father De Cardina’s death traveled quickly back to Spain. The monsignor let out a sigh, crumbling the courier’s letter. He had hoped to avoid more bloodshed.

  For centuries, the Fraternidad Del Fuego Santo kept a quiet watch over the Night Walker, a monster who had once been one of their own.

  During the Alcala Massacre, a lone monk had watched the carnage from the shadows. He witnessed the Night Walker feeding, drinking the blood of one of the guards, and rewrote history. Father Jayme was named the first Catholic martyr in the New World, and Father Salvador, along with his lover, Tala, were erased from all written records in the Catholic Church, but not forgotten.

  The Fraternidad del Fuego Santo hid the story of the native woman with the moon in the iris of her right eye and the creature with a thirst for blood.

  They still hadn’t found a way to kill the unholy abomination. In recent years they resigned to keeping a sentinel on the Pacific coast to observe his movements and be certain he did not spread his curse.

  The truth behind the Mission de Alcala uprising had been buried for centuries. They could not risk allowing the world to discover what the Church had unknowingly unleashed. From Brother Cardina’s communications, they learned the Night Walker had met a woman with a strange marking in her right eye. Brother Cardina seemed convinced the abomination believed the woman to be the reincarnation of his Native American lover.

  Of course she would have no memories of Father Gregorio Salvador. Reincarnation was a fallacy. But if the Night Walker believed she lived again and sought to make her immortal, the consequences would be dire. The Night Walker was formidable enough alone, but if Satan took the woman’s soul, too, the threat to the flock would be mighty. If only they understood the unholy races better.

  Over the years, the Fraternidad collected files of research on the Night Walkers, but the creatures had remained secretive. The Church still had more questions than avenues for answers. Most people remained unaware of their existence, and that was the best the Fraternidad had managed.

  They still weren’t sure if his life could be ended, and the moral implications of the Church ordering such an action were endless.

  Murder, though justified, had been the catalyst that brought them to their present dilemma.

  However, they would not sit idly by and watch the Night Walker unleash another unholy blood drinker into this world. Surely if the abomination believed his lover lived again, he would seek to make her an immortal like him. They had to control the situation.

  His office door creaked open.

  “You sent for me, Father?”

  The monsignor looked up to see the young monk enter his chamber, shutting the heavy door behind him. “Yes, Brother Mentigo. I have received word from San Diego. Brother De Cardina has gone to the Lord’s arms.”

  The color drained from the younger monk’s face as he made the sign of the cross. “God rest his soul. Was it the—”

  “Yes.” The monsignor handed him a crumbled slip of paper. “The priests at the Mission de Alcala found this message pinned to his robe.”

  Do not start a war you cannot win.

  “Is this blood?” Mentigo asked. His brow creased, and he rubbed his thumb across the paper as if to test the words.

  “It is.”

  The monk wet his lips. “He wrote this?”

  “Si.” The monsignor gestured to the seal on the back. “That is his signet. He still has it after all of these years.”

  Brother Mentigo nodded. It seemed he caressed the seal, his fingers brushing over the script on the front once more. The monsignor cleared his throat, and the monk lifted his gaze, returning the note.

  “Our mission falls on your shoulders now,” the monsignor continued as he tucked the note into his robes.

  “What would you have me do, Father?”

  “Keep your distance from the Night Walker, and be certain the woman has no contact with him. And pray, my son. Pray she stays away from him. We must keep this world safe from another blood drinker, and we will use whatever means we must.”

  “You believe he will make her a Night Walker?”

  The monsignor pressed his lips together, quiet for a moment before answering. “I cannot say, but we must not take that risk. Remember, no one else can know. Stay in contact with me alone. ”

  “I will, Father.” He turned away, and the monsignor thought he saw the younger man slide his tongue along the edge of his teeth, burying an eager smile.

  Once he was alone, the monsignor clasped his hands together, wondering if he had just sent another young priest to his death. He hoped not. He already saw the stain of Brother De Cardina’s blood on his hands each time he closed his eyes. He did not want to lose another priest to the Night Walker’s appetite.

  Sadly, it was a chance he would have to take. Although they did not know how to end the Night Walker’s life, the woman still remained mortal, and if they needed to kill her in order to save the world from the plague of another blood drinker, they would do what must be done. God help them.

  Chapter Seven

  Calisto watched from the sidewalk as Betty drove out of the restaurant parking lot. He didn’t need to look into her mind to know she was disappointed their meeting ended early, her tight shoulders, aloof chin, and death grip on her steering wheel gave away her state of mind. It couldn’t be helped. His thoughts revolved around Kate, the sound of her voice and the feel of her soft hand in his. He couldn’t concentrate on the business he needed to discuss with Betty.

  Usually, he buried his emotions without a second thought, but this newfound hope growing inside of him was impossible to hide. Deep within, icy fear stabbed him. The Fraternidad’s focus on Kate did not bode well under any circumstance, but he couldn’t forget the image of Kate in the priest’s mind, holding a small child in her arms, drinking its blood. The image, hazy and incomplete, had the telltale markers of a fear or dream, not a real memory, but it told him absolutely why they had targeted her.

  Their belief he would turn her into a Night Walker was preposterous. If they understood the price she would pay for immortality, they would know he could never steal her humanity. Unfortunately, their foolishness made them dangerous. This same group of zealots had ordered her death once before. He didn’t doubt that they would do it again.

  This time he would be ready for them.

  He walked toward the water’s edge and closed his eyes, letting his mind reach outside of his body, searching for hers. When the person he sought was not nearby, locating them mentally became almost impossible. Many years ago, when his Night Walker abilities grew in power, he learned to bind his spirit to another raven, connecting them over great distances. Seeing the world through the bird’s eyes, he sometimes found who or what he was looking for.

  But without a raven to aid his search, he was forced to sift through the deluge of mortal thoughts pouring in. When he could tolerate no more, he shielded his mind, and his spirit grounded once more. Kate wasn’t nearby. Without a phone number or an address, he had little information to locate her.

  She’d left the restaurant less than two hours ago. Perhaps she was still in downtown San Diego. Hidden in the darkness, he made a running start while the air around him charged with electricity. With each stride, his body transformed and feathers black as night covered him. His final step became an easy leap, and he took to the air.

  Soaring over the coast of San Diego, he batted his wings against gusts of ocean wind. He much preferred to fly as a raven than to ride in a car. The feel of the wind and the scent of the salt air brought him peace. He never mastered driving au
tomobiles. He loathed being trapped inside a metal prison hurdling along the busy freeways. Although a car might travel faster from place to place, in the air as a lone raven, he had complete control and freedom.

  Calisto landed in a dark, empty alleyway behind a nightclub in the downtown Gaslamp Quarter. Willing himself back to his human form, he straightened his clothes and walked into the masses of mortals on the sidewalk.

  At the corner, he prepared to lower his mental shields to search for her. Before the onslaught of thoughts hit him, Calisto noticed a familiar face across the street. He stopped and stared. Perhaps fate would lend him a hand in this lifetime. When the light changed, he followed in her direction.

  Kate hurried inside a movie theater, and Calisto smiled. A movie sounded like a great idea.

  …

  Kate bought her ticket and found a seat on the aisle in the middle of the empty theater. Tuesday night was obviously not the most popular night of the week for moviegoers, which suited her fine. She wasn’t looking for company right now anyway. She ate her popcorn, watched the slides for local businesses flash across the large screen, and incorrectly answered movie trivia questions that kept her mind off Calisto.

  Sipping her soda, Kate shifted in her seat. She had the odd feeling she was being watched. After a moment, she glanced toward the bottom of the theater. Her heart leapt when she saw who stood below.

  Calisto looked up at her, and the moment their eyes met, Kate wasn’t sure she could breathe. He climbed the stairs to her row, his eyes never straying from hers, and her pulse quickened.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  She swiped her buttered fingers against the napkin in her lap and cursed the crumbs she knew had fallen all over her blouse. With a smile she hoped would distract him, she said, “No. It’s all yours.”

  He returned her smile and removed his coat while she had a field day taking in all the muscular curves that lurked under his fitted knit shirt. Kate snapped her gaze to the movie screen the second he turned to take his seat.

  God, she hoped he didn’t see her staring.

  “It is nice to see you again, Kate.” The overhead lights dimmed.

  Kate nodded, finally allowing herself to glance at him again. “It’s strange that we keep bumping into each other.”

  “Perhaps it is fate,” he said.

  Kate hoped the dim lights hid her flush as the previews flashed on the screen. Neither one of them touched or said another word during the movie, although she wanted to, desperately. The romantic comedy should have made her laugh, but she found it impossible to concentrate. Knowing he sat beside her, catching the scent of his cologne, made her skin tingle. She ached for him to reach over and touch her.

  Oh, she was in so much trouble.

  …

  The credits passed over the screen, but Kate didn’t move. She wasn’t sure she could. Half of her wanted to stay in this moment forever, and the other half wanted to protect her heart and run home to safety.

  Finally, Calisto broke the silence. “It was a nice surprise to find you here, Kate. The evening is still young. Will you allow me the pleasure of buying you a cup of coffee?”

  She looked at him, already losing herself in his dark eyes. “That sounds great.”

  An inner battle between her heart and her head raged. Her heart wanted her to be near Calisto, to learn everything about him, and her head told her to escape before she got too attached to this way-too-perfect-to-be-true man. What happened to her plan not to rush into anything? She was supposed to be taking control of her life.

  Kate walked down the aisle toward the door. The feel of his hand at the small of her back shot chills through her until she finally spun around to face him.

  “I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”

  She hadn’t realized how close they were, but she didn’t move away. Calisto remained quiet for a moment before his hand dropped to his side. A gentle smile came to his face, but his eyes hardened.

  “Forgive me if I gave you the wrong impression. I hate sitting in a café alone, and I thought I might get to know you better.”

  Stupid! Did she honestly think he was interested in a romantic relationship with her? Her infatuation clouded her thinking. Why would Calisto Terana, philanthropist and longtime bachelor, give up his lifestyle for a choir director from Reno?

  Wake up, Kate.

  She took a step back. This close to him, the urge to touch him overwhelmed her. “I’m sorry. I’ve been under a lot of stress. I guess I read too much into this. I’d love to have a cup of coffee with you.”

  “I would be honored.” Calisto offered his arm.

  Placing her hand in the crook of his elbow, Kate followed his lead into the bustling nightlife of downtown. The November evening air was crisp, and the fog rolled in, embracing them in its mist.

  She walked a little closer to Calisto, telling herself it was because of the cold. Billows of misty clouds made beautiful orange halos of light around the old gas lamp streetlights while their footsteps echoed along the empty sidewalk.

  After they traveled two blocks, Kate smiled up at him. “I hope you know where we’re going, because I haven’t been down here in years.”

  “It is not much farther.” He teased her with a smile.

  “I don’t mind the walk.” The haze around them blurred the city lights. She could imagine they were the only two people in the world. “It’s a beautiful night.”

  He brought his free hand to lie over her fingers on the crook of his arm. “Yes it is.” He looked down, his gaze like a caress. “Incredibly beautiful.”

  Kate caught herself imagining what it would be like to kiss him. Not a good sign considering she came back to San Diego to get distance from a relationship, not embroil herself in another. She pulled her gaze from his and focused on walking in a straight line.

  “How long have you lived in San Diego?”

  Calisto paused for several seconds. “I lost count years ago. How long have you been away?”

  “Nine years,” Kate said.

  “Why would you leave a paradise like San Diego?”

  “Who says Reno isn’t paradise?”

  Calisto shook his head slightly. “I meant no disrespect to your new home, but I wonder why you would give up the ocean and the perfect weather.”

  Kate shrugged. The movement sent her fingers over a ridge of muscle in Calisto’s arm. “I don’t know. San Diego, especially the beach, never felt like home. Watching the waves made me lonely. I know it sounds strange, but I don’t have a better way to describe it. Almost like being haunted or something.”

  Had she really just said that? She never told anyone how she felt when she stood on the beach, not even Tom, the man she had planned to marry. What was it about Calisto? She barely knew him.

  Kate laughed, shaking her head. “Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?” She smiled up at him, feeling vulnerable and most definitely not confident in that moment. He opened the glass door of a dimly lit café. “Sure you still want to have coffee with me?”

  “I have never been more certain of anything in this life.” Calisto grinned. His hand brushed the small of her back, an encouraging touch. She let him guide her to a corner table, reveling in the feel of his hand against her and the acceptance in his smile.

  Every time he touched her, her entire body tingled in response. And even though she shouldn’t, even though she needed time and room to settle into her new approach to life, she wanted more of Calisto. She yearned for it.

  He took the seat across from her. Kate dreaded the awkward silence sure to come, but it didn’t.

  “You are a musician in Reno?”

  She relaxed into her seat, enjoying the way his accent colored the name of her city. “Yes, I direct a couple of middle school choirs. How did you know that?”

  “I wish I could say that I knew your mother and she told me this, but I cannot. Sadly, I am not involved with the donors at the foundation as much as I would like.”

  “Betty
told you, huh?” Kate laughed.

  “I wondered why a musician would give up a beautiful instrument like your mother’s piano.”

  “My mother didn’t give me a choice in the matter. She wanted you to have it,” Kate said, surprised at how bitter she sounded.

  “Do you play?”

  She shrugged. “Not very well. But I get by.”

  “Get by?” He moved his chair back and crossed an ankle over his leg.

  In this new position, Kate could enjoy the cut of his shirt over his chest. She cleared her throat. “I can plunk out melodies just fine, but I’m a little rusty at playing the bass line with my left hand.”

  “Sometime, I would love to hear you play.”

  God, she couldn’t get enough of his accent. Focus, Kate. “Oh I’d be too embarrassed. Betty told me you’re a concert pianist.”

  He cocked his head and raised his eyebrows. “How well I play has nothing to do with it.”

  Kate laughed, leaning back slightly as the waitress placed their drinks in front of them. “What will happen to my Mom’s piano, anyway?”

  Calisto grasped the warm coffee mug and answered, but Kate didn’t register the words. The café, its customers, the smell of coffee, even time faded when she noticed his hand.

  “Kate?”

  His ring. She couldn’t take her eyes off of it. Something about it seemed… familiar. Maybe she was insane. She couldn’t have seen it before, and yet she was sure she had. Either that or she had some vivid déjà vu.

  “Kate? Are you all right?” Calisto asked.

  Kate blinked and shook her head slowly, breaking the trance she felt when she noticed the ring. “I’m sorry. I saw your ring and I can’t help thinking I’ve seen it before.” She searched his face for something that might tell her why the ring seemed so familiar. “I swear I’m not usually this crazy, but it looks familiar to me.”

  His gaze held hers, his voice soft but commanding. “You are many things, but crazy is not one of them. Perhaps intuition told you of our meeting in a dream. Stranger things have happened in this world, no?”