Vampires In America: Raphael Part 4

"Indeed, you do," Raphael interjected easily. "That's one of the reasons we're here."

"And what's the other reason?"

"So you can see the crime scene, of course. That's what you humans do, is it not, Cyn?"

Cynthia sighed. It was going to be a long night. "Yes, it is, Lord Raphael," she said, remembering Lonnie's advice. "I don't know any other way to run an investigation."

"Excellent. Then, come, Cyn." Every time he said her name, he separated it out from the words around it, as if savoring the taste. Sin. "I think things will be much clearer to you after you've seen the security footage," he continued, taking her arm gently and steering her back toward the doorway. "And do call me Raphael. After all, you're human. You've no allegiance to me ... as yet," he added softly.

Cynthia turned and stared at him, uncertain she'd really heard those final words. Raphael seemed not to notice, guiding her down the side of the house in the dark, then pulling open the heavy wooden door with ease. As they went through, she saw the door had a double-keyed deadbolt, in addition to a keypad lockout inside. Which meant she'd been right in her earlier a.s.sessment. Whoever had taken this Alexandra, for whatever reason, had at least one accomplice on the inside. A thought occurred to her. "What time did you say it was when your ... when Alexandra was abducted?"

"It was nearly sunrise. She would have already been feeling the pressure of dawn. It would have made her, and her guards, slower, less alert."

Duncan stared at his Sire in alarm, and Cynthia wondered if this was one of those secrets vampires usually didn't share. And then it occurred to her to wonder why Raphael was being so free with this information. She pushed aside that worrisome thought and considered what he'd told her. "Humans," she said.

Raphael smiled. Beautiful and deadly.

"It was humans who took her," she repeated, breathless and a little aggravated he hadn't just told her.

"Very good, Cyn. This is why I believe you, a human, will be best able to find her."

"But if she was still awake, some of the other vampires must have been also. You wouldn't have left her here with only human guards, especially not at night."

Raphael's expression quickly turned blacker than a moonless night, his eyes pits of darkness that sucked in the light and gave back nothing. "No, indeed, not. But the traitor will be my concern." She watched the fury roll out of his expression just as quickly, watched the moonlight sparkle come back to his eyes. "Your job," he continued, "will be catching the human puppets, who will in turn lead me to their vampire masters."

"Okay," she breathed, shaking herself slightly. "Let's uh, let's-"

He gestured toward a dimly lit hallway. "It's all set up for us."

Chapter Eleven.

The house was dark inside, with only a faint light coming from the hallway. There was a slight smell of bleach in the air, like a cleaning solution. She looked at Raphael in question.

"Human guards patrol the house and grounds during daylight hours. They were murdered, their bodies dragged into the kitchen. My staff has already cleaned."

Cyn nodded. If this had been a regular forensic investigation, valuable evidence would have been destroyed by that cleaning. But there was little "regular" about this whole case. They continued on through the large French provincial kitchen, and Cynthia couldn't help noticing the big side by side subzero refrigerator/freezer. She didn't want to think about what was stored in that one. Ugh.

The hallway was brighter than the kitchen, though not by much, with some low wattage lights recessed into the crown molding along the ceiling. She noticed bracket-mounted candleholders all along the wall and shone her flashlight on one of them curiously. It was the real thing. Although the candles currently stuck in the fixture were fresh, she could smell the paraffin from previous burnings. Raphael had gone ahead of her, but he came back down the hall to see what she was looking at.

"Candles?" she asked.

"Alexandra preferred things as they had been. She never adapted well to the modern era. There are additional lights, of course." He gestured above. "Mostly for the human staff. I forget sometimes what poor eyesight you humans have in the dark, Cyn."

"You know," she muttered, half to herself. "You and I will get along a lot better if you stop pointing out all of my human deficiencies. I'm sure you all must have a few of your own."

He gave a soft chuckle. "My manners are a bit rusty, I'm afraid. I have so little direct contact with humans anymore."

Cynthia eyed him doubtfully. He said all the right words, but there was always the tiny hint of a smirk on that handsome face, as though he was playing along for his own entertainment. "Right. So where's this security setup then?"

"This way." He continued down the hall, making a turn into a small foyer near what would have been the main entrance if not for the useless checkerboard courtyard. Cyn followed him past a winding stairway and toward the back of the house where a square of light on the wood flooring marked an open door. Raphael paused in the light to wait for her, then preceded her down the stairs to the bas.e.m.e.nt.

Duncan was already there, seated at the hub of a very sophisticated security control center. Every console was lit up, and as she glanced from monitor to monitor, she saw there was precious little of the guest house that wasn't under surveillance. She did a quick survey of the room, noticing the locked gun cage and what looked like a closed bank vault door against the far wall. Curious.

"Nice," was all she said, focusing on the security console. "Do you have any redundancy between the houses? The main gate?"

"Not at this house. Not a live feed anyway," Duncan said. "Alexandra lived apart." He frowned slightly. "For many reasons. We do have the main gate, however. Video only. His fingers flew over the keyboard and he gestured at a large monitor hanging on the wall to her right. "The morning in question."

Cynthia walked over to the monitor and watched as a black, late model panel van pulled up to the gate. The guards were human, she noted. "Pause that." The screen froze. "Human guards," she said. "When I came through earlier the guards were all vamps."

"As you noted, they timed it carefully," Raphael said right behind her. She started a little and his eyes s.h.i.+fted to her, his gaze lingering long enough to make her uncomfortable. "It was close enough to sunrise that my vampires had already retired for the day. These humans-" He paused and pointed at the monitor. "-would have been on duty perhaps half an hour, no more."

"You must have video of the s.h.i.+ft change. Did you see anything different, unusual?"

"No. Most of Alexandra's vampire guards are my own, my children-"

"What does that mean? Your children?" Cynthia asked in surprise. "You don't mean literally..."

Raphael gave her an a.s.sessing stare. "Of course not, Cyn. Among us, the term 'child' refers to one whom we personally have brought over. One we have ... reborn. It is a powerful connection among our kind and one not easily broken."

"But it can be broken?"

He frowned at her. "Rarely. But, yes."

"You referred to a traitor. Was he one of yours?"

"No."

"But he was one of Alexandra's guards?"

"Yes. I thought I knew him. That was my mistake and one I shall personally rectify."

Cynthia waited for him to expand. When he didn't, she shrugged and turned back to the monitor. "Go ahead, please," she told Duncan. The video activated again, showing the driver of the black van having a conversation with one of the guards. The guard was arguing with him, gesturing toward the house, then back to the paperwork the driver was trying to offer him. She saw the van s.h.i.+ft as the back doors were opened and four men jumped out, two going to either side of the vehicle. At the same time, the driver opened his door, ramming it into the guard talking to him and distracting the others. She scowled as the intruders opened fire; AK-47's mowed down the human guards almost before they could raise their own weapons. One of Raphael's men inside the wall did manage to rake the front window of the van, cracking the winds.h.i.+eld, but within seconds all of the guards were down and the gate was open.

Without audio, she couldn't hear what was said, but the driver was visibly cursing as he searched behind his seat and came up with a tire iron which he used to break out the rest of the gla.s.s, clearing the vehicle's front window. He barked a few words and his team piled back inside, before he drove beneath the camera's frame and out of sight.

"When I came through the gate tonight," Cyn said, "I saw at least six vampires on the gate itself and an uncounted number throughout the grounds and in the main house. Why were there only the four humans three days ago?" she asked.

"Lord Raphael is in residence tonight," Duncan explained quietly. "The main security detail travels with our master, which is why Alexandra has a separate unit. She prefers the comfort of familiar surroundings and rarely travels. When our master is gone, only her security detail remains."

"But you have cameras on the gate, someone must have seen what was happening."

Duncan nodded in agreement. "Again, with Lord Raphael absent, the gate would have been monitored from here at the manor house. There is a separate, smaller control room off the kitchen upstairs. It is used by the guards during the day." He glanced at Raphael before continuing. "The traitor murdered the human guards here at the house before the van arrived and remained outside the vault after the others had retired for the day. We never thought-"

"Shall we move on?" Raphael interrupted.

Duncan bowed his head in acquiescence and turned back to the keyboard. The next bit of footage was from an interior camera and included some audio, although the quality was not very good. From the high ceilings and windows, Cynthia thought it must have come from one of the upstairs rooms. A young woman was playing the piano, something light and pretty. Mozart, she thought. The camera was behind her, so Cyn couldn't see her face yet. But long, black hair hung down her back in thick, s.h.i.+ning curls, and she was small, almost childlike in size. A perfect size one, Cyn thought cynically. A man sat next to her, his hair just as black, but completely straight, cut blunt at the shoulder. He wore the same charcoal suit as Juro and the other bodyguards she'd see at the main house.

Cyn felt more than saw Raphael step up behind her, felt his breath stir her hair as he whispered a name, "Matias."

Cynthia glanced at him over her shoulder, uncertain if he'd intended her to hear, and then looked away from the naked pain on his face. She focused instead on the slightly Asian cast of Matias' face, wondering how old he was and where he'd come from. This was the vampire Lonnie had told her about, Alexandra's supposed lover. The camera angle was high, but she thought the rumor was probably true. The two of them, Alexandra and Matias, seemed very relaxed together, like old friends, or old lovers.

A man's voice said something off-camera and Alexandra's back stiffened. She stood and turned, Matias holding out a hand to a.s.sist her as she came into full view for the first time. Cynthia sucked in a breath. She looked so young, little more than a girl, almost doll-like in a full-length gown of peach-colored satin. Small b.r.e.a.s.t.s plumped out of a low-cut, lace bodice that narrowed tightly to her waist, then flared over what had to be panniers of some sort beneath her dress. She reminded Cyn of the porcelain-faced dolls her grandmother used to bring her from Europe. Pretty little things to be put on a shelf and admired, but never touched, and never, ever played with.

"She's only a child," Cyn said, her voice thick with disapproval. "How old was she when you turned her?"

Duncan jolted to his feet, a protest on his lips, but Raphael held up a strong, square-fingered hand to stop him, his gaze never leaving Cynthia's face. "I take into consideration, Ms. Leighton, that you are human and perhaps do not know our customs. My people-" He indicated Duncan with a tip of his head. "-are fiercely loyal to me and will not be so tolerant. You might want to consider that in the future. Whether you wish to acknowledge it or not, I am one of only eight vampire lords on this continent. My power is, frankly, beyond your comprehension. I expect, and have earned through my own efforts, the respect of those around me, and if not respect, then at least courtesy.

"Alexandra's physical age is not your concern, and such a question is an unforgivable breach of etiquette among my kind. Regardless of her appearance, she is an adult of several hundred years."

Cynthia flushed, embarra.s.sed, angry and scared stiff. She'd been rattled by Raphael's obvious pain at seeing Matias and shocked at the girl's youthful appearance, but that was no excuse. She was smarter than this. "I apologize, Lord Raphael. I was ... surprised and reacted without thinking." She lifted her chin, daring him to refuse her apology.

Raphael held her gaze, his face nearly expressionless. Cynthia forced herself to breathe.

"Duncan," Raphael said at last, his dark eyes still on Cynthia. "Please continue." Then he gave her a small nod of acceptance and gestured once again to the screen.

Cynthia turned slowly, her heart pounding, her legs wobbly with adrenaline rush. It took her a moment to focus on what she was seeing. "Who's the redhead?" she asked finally.

"Albin." Raphael's voice was so cold it made her s.h.i.+ver, and she knew without asking that she was looking at the traitor.

The rest of the scene unfolded on screen as they watched. Cynthia sucked back a gasp of disbelief when she saw Matias literally dusted and gave a hard smile as Alexandra shook Albin off and strode from the room ahead of him. Duncan gave a little tsk of disgust when Albin paused before leaving the room to cast a contemptuous grin right at the camera. "He knew the cameras were there," she commented.

"Of course," Raphael agreed.

The remainder of the video was a montage of images cut together from the hallway and exterior cameras, showing the rest of the abduction and including Albin's obviously human accomplices. It ended with a shot of the rear end of the black van as it drove away, leaving bodies scattered on the ground around the gate.

"Who found the bodies?" she asked, subdued.

"My security forces, when they rose for the night. Alexandra's room was empty, unused, as were those of Albin and Matias. Alexandra's ... former security chief immediately inst.i.tuted a search of the house and grounds. His men reported back from the gate with the unfortunate news."

"Unfortunate," Cynthia repeated. She drew breath to go off on him for his callousness at the human guards' deaths, remembered the loss in his voice when he spoke of Matias, and said instead, "The human deaths. You didn't call the police. What happened to them?"

Raphael was watching her, and with that uncanny intuition of his seemed to understand the realignment she'd just worked out ... and the question she was really asking. "It has been some time, Cyn, since my people were reduced to scavenging bodies for sustenance. These," he gestured at the monitor, "were cared for and sent to their families, if they had them. If not, they were cremated and scattered to the winds even as our own bodies are. Their families were compensated, to the extent money can compensate for life, and their funeral expenses, if any, were paid. I treat my people well, Cynthia. All of my people."

She nodded, not having really expected anything else. She looked down at the floor, thinking over what she'd seen and heard, then raised her head. "Albin spoke to the human abductors, not much, but a few words. It was Russian, wasn't it?"

Raphael gave her another one of those long, a.s.sessing stares. "It was," he confirmed. "Nothing of substance. He asked the status of the gate, then ordered them back to the vehicle, saying he would bring Alexandra. The humans' response was too low to distinguish."

"May I ask..." She had learned from her earlier mistake. "Why would Albin speak Russian?"

"Like many of us, Albin lived in several countries before coming to this one. Imperial Russia was one where he dwelt for some time."

She wanted to ask if that was why Raphael also spoke Russian, but didn't want to press her luck.

"Okay," she said, thinking. "I'd like to see the room they were in, the one with the piano, and I'll want to follow the route they took out of the house. And also..." She drew a breath, knowing Duncan, at least, would not want to give her what she was about to ask for. "I'd like a copy of all the footage from that morning. That-" She gestured at the now blank screen. "-was edited together from several cameras. I want the actual feed, including any audio, from every camera you have. The gate, the hallways here, the room Alexandra was taken from, anyplace Albin might have been before he showed up in that room."

As predicted, Duncan's face flashed immediate refusal. He stood from the console and gave his master a beseeching look, but Raphael again held up his hand to forestall him. "Why do you need it and why can you not simply watch it here?" he asked.

"For one thing, I'm not familiar with your equipment, and I don't know if you even have what I need. I have specialized programs of my own that can go over the video frame by frame, letting me zoom in on details that might mean nothing to you, but which can tell me quite a bit. And I might be able to enhance some of the audio for you. The equipment is in my home office, which is more private and more secure than the office you visited, so you needn't be concerned about confidentiality. No one will see or hear it except me. If I think a sound or image can benefit from enhancement beyond what I can do myself, I will show you the segment and ask your permission before letting anyone else work with it. As for the other, I don't mean to offend you, my lord, but this place creeps me out a little bit."

Raphael blinked, then laughed. It was a genuine sound, not the harsh bark from earlier.

"Duncan," he said, still smiling. "Make a copy for Ms. Leighton."

"Sire, please." Duncan was in obvious distress.

"Make the copy, Duncan," Raphael said softly. "Ms. Leighton has guaranteed its confidentiality and I'm sure she understands the negative consequences of betraying that guarantee." He fixed her with a gaze which promised a very short future for anyone who crossed him. "Don't you, Cyn?"

"Yes," Cyn whispered. "Yes, of course," she said louder. "Thank you."

"I'll show Ms. Leighton the rest of the house while you make the copy, Duncan. Meet us out front when you finish."

"My lord," Duncan agreed, bowing his head. He sounded so depressed Cynthia almost felt sorry for him.

"Come, Cyn," Raphael said. "Let me show you the rest of Alexandra's cottage."

Cynthia followed Raphael up the broad staircase, around the balcony and through an open set of French doors. It was the room in the video, although it was much larger than it had seemed. The Steinway concert grand was at the far end of the room, near west-facing windows overlooking the front of the house and the checkerboard courtyard. What were probably genuine Louis XVI antiques were scattered throughout the room-brocaded settees, armoires and tables with fluted legs and carved reliefs of leaves and flowers. Cynthia located the security camera, barely visible within the deeply projected crown molding. She followed the line of sight of the camera across the room to the piano and beyond, to where Raphael stood at the window gazing down at the gaudy marble below.

Cynthia watched him silently for a few minutes, then crossed the room to stand next to him, trailing her fingers lightly over the keyboard as she went by.

He glanced around. "Do you play?"

"Not anymore. I took lessons for years; my first nanny insisted on it and no one else cared enough to stop them." She shrugged. "I don't think I could even read a piece of sheet music now. I heard Alexandra playing, though. It was lovely."

"Yes. One of her many acquired talents. Born in the dirt, she worked very hard at being a lady." He gestured around them.

"But you love her."

"Yes," he whispered, closing his eyes briefly, before opening them to stare out at the brightly lit night beyond the window. "Sixteen," he said, without looking back.

Cynthia frowned. "Sixteen what?"

He glanced over his shoulder. "You asked how old Alexandra was when she was turned. She was sixteen. I found her much later, in Paris during the Revolution." He shrugged and turned back to the window. "I killed her Sire and made her mine."

"I see," Cyn said, not knowing what else to say.

"It was a long time, ago, Cyn. A different time, a different culture. You would do well to remember that if you're going to spend time around vampires."

"I know. I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean-"

"Yes, you did." He turned completely, giving her a wistful smile. "But I forgive you."