Crimson Debt Read online

  “No place but here.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “I suffer from depression and the drugs humans take—they don’t work on my kind.”

  Hmm, I had never heard of a depressed vampire other than Taylor. She had been plenty depressed while she was with Celeste, but there was nothing she could do about it. Maybe that was why you didn’t hear about many vamp suicides—their makers kept them from doing themselves in.

  “What made him think that would cure your depression?” I asked, still taking it all in stride.

  “Jason was doing research about it—that’s how we met. He’s a professor of Vampire Studies at Tampa U. Or…or he was, I guess.” She started crying again. “He…he said he wanted to study me and then we…we…”

  “You fell in love?” I guessed.

  She nodded. “It all happened so fast. And before I knew it, he was asking me to go farther and farther with him. I knew I shouldn’t but I’ve always had good control before and besides, Jason was so gentle and tender and kind. He just…I couldn’t say no to him.”

  “So how long have you had a sexual relationship?” I asked.

  “For almost three months.” She wiped at her eyes and her fingers came away bloody. “It was going so well. I wanted to bond him to me—to make him, you know…”

  “A little less fragile?” I asked.

  Cynthia nodded. “Exactly. Only I didn’t feel like I could ask him to stay with me forever when I have this sickness…this depression.”

  “You might have tried therapy,” I said. “There are several practices in town that specialize in vamps.”

  “I know. I wanted to do that, believe me, I did,” she assured me, her eyes wide and haunted. “But Jason had been doing his research and he said it would be better—faster—for him to pay the Crimson Debt.”

  My ears perked up at once. Here it was again—that phrase. I had been an Auditor for six years but until I had gotten serious with Corbin, I had never heard it.

  “What exactly does that mean?” I asked her, interested to hear her definition.

  “It’s what the older vampires call making love and taking blood at the same time.” Cynthia wiped at her eyes again, which were still leaking. “My maker did it all the time. He…he claimed it cured all ills—physical, mental, or emotional—as long as it is done out of love.”

  I arched an eyebrow at her. “And you knew about this? But you didn’t mention it to Jason?”

  “Of course I didn’t mention it to him! I didn’t want him to try it.” She sounded genuinely distraught. “He found out about it on his own. I tried to explain to him that it wasn’t something a vampire and human could do. A vampire and a were, yes. Or a vampire and another vampire, though we don’t often take blood from each other. Even a witch with supernatural wards would be safer than just a human.”

  “So what did you tell him when he asked if he could do this—pay the Crimson Debt—for you?”

  “I told him, no, of course!” Cynthia exclaimed. “I said it was out of the question. That I was already having a hard enough time keeping control when we…you know, made love.”

  “And what did he say?” I asked.

  “He pestered me about it for a long time but when I kept saying no, he finally seemed to agree with me. He promised to let the matter drop.” She put a hand to her face. “That was just yesterday. Then tonight…”

  “When you go together…” I prompted.

  “Right. We were already, uh, in the middle and then he suddenly pulled out a knife.” She began to cry again. “I"ve always been so careful. I wouldn’t even make love with him if he had so much as an unhealed shaving cut.”

  “Oh, honey…” I squeezed her arm gently as she started to break down again.

  “I begged him not to but he was quick. Before I knew it, he had slashed his arm open. And then…then all I could see was the…the blood…” She wrapped her arms around herself, the sobs shaking her. “I loved him,” she gasped, bloody tears pouring from her eyes. “Oh God, I loved him so much. And I killed him.”

  “Cynthia…” I shook my head helplessly.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured at last, her sobs tapering off somewhat. “It’s just…I still can’t believe it. It seems like a bad dream. Like something that happened to someone else.”

  I nodded. I had heard the same thing from many bereft loved ones when I had to tell them someone they cared for was gone. It’s a bad dream…I just want to wake up…

  “I’m afraid we’ll have to take you in,” I told her gently.

  Cynthia nodded dully. “That’s okay—I want you to. I should be punished for what happened here tonight.”

  For once, I wasn’t so sure about that. If things had really gone down the way she described them, it seemed to me she was almost a victim of circumstance. Or maybe just a victim of her lover’s stupidity. I made a mental note to ask the coroner to see if one of the disembodied hands was holding a knife and if the opposite arm was slashed with it. If that was the case, I would be willing to testify in court for Cynthia, though it would be the first time I had ever testified for a vamp rather than against them.

  “You want to know something crazy?” she asked with a broken little laugh that was more than half sob.

  “No, what?” I asked, getting out my velvet-lined, silver alloy cuffs.

  “It worked—I’m not depressed anymore.” She shook her head. “I mean, I’m devastated and distraught and I feel incredibly guilty but that low level sadness that always seemed to cloud my mind…it’s gone.”

  “Really?” I said neutrally as I fitted the cuffs on her slender wrists.

  Cynthia nodded. “I used to feel like I was at the bottom of a deep, dark well—a well with glass sides so slick I couldn’t crawl out of it no matter how hard I tried. Now, for the first time in over fifty years, I’m out of the well. I’m standing on the lip of it, looking down.” She buried her face in her cuffed hands. “And all I want is to go back. To get back in the well and have Jason be alive again. I’d stay down there forever—for the rest of my life—if only it would bring him back.”

  I shook my head and murmured something I hoped was soothing before I read her her rights and led her from the house. This was definitely not the kind of case I usually saw. There was real remorse here—it was clear she would do anything to take back what she had done.

  God, did I know that feeling. If only I could go back in time, stop Corbin from using that stake. But there was no way to do that. And no way to cure the effects or reverse what had been done…

  Or was there?

  Cynthia’s words echoed in my head. “It cured all ills—physical, mental, or emotional—as long as it is done out of love.” Hadn’t Corbin said much the same thing to me when he had explained paying the Crimson Debt? So was it possible that…but no, surely not. Except…what if…

  As I put the vampire in the back of my car and drove to the PD, a plan began to form in my head. A terrible, desperate, crazy plan. Something no one in their right mind would do—especially after seeing the carnage I had witnessed tonight.

  A plan that might be my only hope.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  It was nearly dawn by the time I finished getting Cynthia Torez booked, stopped by my house, and got back to Under the Fang. That was all right with me, though. Even the really old ones, the ones who can go out in the sun for a few minutes without getting burned and require almost no rest during the day, have a moment of weakness just at dawn.

  I was counting on that moment of weakness along with the few things I had hidden in the little black overnight bag I had brought with me. I might be doing a crazy, suicidal, dangerous thing but I intended to do it as carefully as possible. If that makes any sense. Okay, I know—it really doesn’t. But still, I had my plan and I was sticking to it.

  I hoped.

  The club was already closed for the day but I banged on the door until one of the human barmaids opened it. I saw with little surprise that it was Bambie, the girl I had i