I shook my head and murmured something Ihoped was soothing before I read her her rights and led her fromthe house. This was definitely not the kind of case Iusually saw. There was real remorse here—it was clear she would doanything to take back what she had done.
God, did I know that feeling. If onlyI could go back in time, stop Corbin from using that stake. Butthere was no way to do that. And no way to cure the effects orreverse what had been done…
Or was there?
Cynthia’s words echoed in my head. “Itcured all ills—physical, mental, or emotional—as long as it is doneout of love.” Hadn’t Corbin said much the same thing to me whenhe had explained paying the Crimson Debt? So was it possiblethat…but no, surely not. Except…what if…
As I put the vampire in the back of my carand drove to the PD, a plan began to form in my head. A terrible,desperate, crazy plan. Something no one in their right mind woulddo—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 finishedgetting Cynthia Torez booked, stopped by my house, and got back toUnder the Fang. That was all right with me, though. Even thereally old ones, the ones who can go out in the sun for a fewminutes without getting burned and require almost no rest duringthe day, have a moment of weakness just at dawn.
I was counting on that moment of weaknessalong with the few things I had hidden in the little blackovernight bag I had brought with me. I might be doing a crazy,suicidal, dangerous thing but I intended to do it as carefully aspossible. 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 butI banged on the door until one of the human barmaids opened it. Isaw with little surprise that it was Bambie, the girl I hadinterviewed during my last inspection of the Fang.
“We’re closed. Whaddaya want?” she askedrudely.
“In,” I said, glaring at her. I rememberednow how much I had disliked her at that last interview. It seemedlike a thousand years ago but actually, it had been less than twoweeks. God, had it really been such a short time? How had I gonefrom hating Corbin’s guts to being willing to do what I was aboutto do for him? Was I crazy?
No, just in love, murmured a littlevoice in my head. I heard it and knew it was the voice ofTruth.
The voice of Reason, was a whole differentmatter—it was screaming that I was crazy. That I had lost my mindand I was shortly going to lose my life with this idiotic scheme Ihad cooked up.
Up until I saw Bambie’s irritated face andpouting mouth in the doorway of Corbin’s club, I wasn’t sure whichvoice I was going to listen to. But the minute I pushed my way pasther, despite her protests—the moment my foot passed over thethreshold and I was inside the Fang—my mind was made up.
I was irrevocably committed.
You should becommitted! screamed the second little voice. Are youcrazy? Did you not see that crime scene? The poor guy’s head wastorn off. Last time I looked, you needyour head. And you need to use it now. You’re not thinkingstraight, Addison. You—
I took a deep breath and shut it off. Nomore fear. No more doubts. No more questions.I…am…doing…this…NOW.
Just at that moment, Corbin came intoview.
“Bambie, what is going on? I thought I toldyou to shut down for the day.” He frowned at her and she bowed tohim reverently.
“Sorry, Master, but she pushed her way in.”She nodded at me. “I told her we were closed but she wouldn’tlisten.”
Corbin frowned at me. “What do you want,Addison?”
“To talk,” I said, trying to smile likenothing was wrong. “Just to talk.”
He looked awful—even wearier than he hadearlier. I wondered uneasily about the bloody runes on the stake.Was the blood still dark red or had it turned almost black? I hadleft it behind on Gwendolyn LaRoux’ front porch so there was no wayto check. But was it possible that she had misread it? Was Corbineven closer to death than she had thought?
“Just to talk, hmm?” he said, repeating mywords back to me. “Has it occurred to you, Addison, that there isnothing left to say between us?”
“There’s sorry,” I whispered. “That’s what Icame to say, Corbin—that I’m sorry. Will you let me say it? Willyou listen?”
He sighed heavily. “I will try. But youshould know that I may not have much time.”
“All right. Can we go someplace private?” Inodded pointedly at Bambie, who was watching us with wide eyes,soaking up our conversation like a sponge.
“Of course. This way.”
To my relief, he led me down the darkstaircase to his daylight resting area, which was exactly where Ihad been hoping to go. Once inside, he closed the heavy bank vaultdoor and turned to face me.
“Well? Speak your piece, darling. As I said,I don’t have much time.”
“Time enough to get comfortable, though,” Isaid. “Can we at least sit down?”
“Fine.” He started to lead me to the chairin front of the fireplace but then he stumbled heavily and wouldhave gone down if I hadn’t caught him. He was a big guy and therewas a lot to catch—for a moment the issue was in doubt. But somehowI managed to get my arm under his shoulder and half led, halfdragged him to the bed.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“It’s all right. Let’s get you situated,” Isaid.
This was where I had wanted him all alongbut I was still more frightened than triumphant as I got himsettled in the center of the green and gold spread. I had neverseen him clumsy before, had never seen him as anything but the mostgraceful and powerful of predators. Now he seemed so weak—sovulnerable. It was actually a good thing if I wanted mycrazy plan to succeed but even so, I was worried that maybe I wastoo late. Maybe
