Page 20 of Twilight Longings

“He’s still in there,” Saintcrow said quietly. “If we can grab her …” He swore as he felt Luca’s presence surround him. Damn! The necromancer was trying to transfer from the girl’s body to his. Shouting, “Kincaid, get out of here!” Saintcrow summoned every ounce of preternatural power he possessed to block Luca.

Kincaid didn’t waste time asking questions, just vanished.

Saintcrow and the little girl stared at each other. It was downright creepy, feeling the necromancer’s malevolent power radiating from the child. “Luca, let her go.”

“Make me.” The voice was the little girl’s, but the hatred in her tone was Luca’s.

The necromancer tried one more time to penetrate Saintcrow’s shield, and then a faint white mist in the shimmery shape of a man floated out of the child’s chest and disappeared from sight.

The girl stood there a moment, looking confused. And then, humming a cheerful tune, she retrieved the mail from the box and ran back up the porch stairs and into the house.

He heard her calling, “Mama! Mama!”

“Dammit!” Saintcrow growled as he walked down the street. “How the hell are we ever gonna to find him now?”

Kincaid was waiting for him on the bridge that connected Morgan Creek to the highway. “What the hell happened back there?”

Saintcrow shook his head. “Luca left the girl and disappeared, but not before he tried to transfer into me. Scariest damn thing I’ve ever encountered.”

“Well, shit, how the devil do we find him now?”

“I don’t know. Dammit! We were so close!” They had to find Luca and it had to be soon, Saintcrow thought. And then he frowned. They didn’t even know if Luca was responsible for the plague. Filled with a rising tide of rage and frustration, Saintcrow slammed his fist against one of the bridge supports. The post, the size of a tree trunk, cracked with a sound like thunder.

“So, we’re right back at where we started,” Kincaid muttered.

Saintcrow stared into the distance. And then he grunted. “Maybe not. Let’s go see Izabela.”

After the usual ubiquitous opening question by the witch and the expected replies, Izabela invited the two vampires into the house. “Any luck?”

“Yes and no,” Saintcrow said. “We found him and then we lost him.”

“So, what do you want of me?” She settled in her rocker, the cat curled up at her feet.

Kincaid sat on the edge of the sofa.

Saintcrow remained standing. “If I go back and read the little girl’s mind, do you think I’d learn anything that would help?”

Izabela rocked gently while she considered Saintcrow’s question, and then she shrugged. “Perhaps. I should think it would depend on the girl, how smart she is, what Luca might have said or thought. You’ve got nothing to lose if it doesn’t work.”

“Yeah. Okay. Thanks.” Saintcrow gestured at Kincaid and they headed for the door.

“Let me know if you find anything,” Izabela called after them.

“Wow,” Kincaid remarked when they materialized in the tavern at Morgan Creek. “I think that’s the first time I got out of there without leaving anything behind.”

Saintcrow returned to the white house with the green shutters and the red door late the following afternoon, quietly cursing the threshold that kept him outside. He stood on the sidewalk in the shadows cast by a large elm tree, wondering what thechances were that the girl would come outside to collect the mail again.

For once, luck was with him. The door opened and she ran down to the mailbox. She skidded to a stop, her eyes wide with fear and recognition, when he stepped out from behind the tree.

Saintcrow smiled at her. A quick scan of her mind gave him her name. “Hi, Lucy.”

She frowned at him. “Go away. I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

“I’m not a stranger,” he said, and speaking to her mind, he planted a memory. “I met you the other day, while you were playing hopscotch. Don’t you remember?”

Her frown deepened. And then she smiled. “Mr. Saintcrow. You know my dad.”

“Right.” He smiled at her again as his mind took hold of hers. The little girl had several imaginary friends that she spoke to on a regular basis—a pink unicorn named Miranda, a yellow parakeet named Peanuts, a fairy princess named Lady Jane. Luca had convinced the child he was the unicorn. Unfortunately, the necromancer hadn’t shared any of his plans with her. Traces of Luca’s anger lingered in the girl’s memory, as well as his lust for vengeance against the two vampires who had trapped his soul. It took only moments to erase those memories from the child’s mind.

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