Cheyenne closed her eyes against the sight.
Andre will come, Andre will come…
She couldn’t wonder if he’d be able to follow her trail. Shehad to believe that he would. They had been serious and worried when theyplanned to come here, but were certain such a bizarre case could be solvedquickly. After, they planned to take a wickedly romantic vacation, perhaps inScotland or down in Italy, or maybe even on the French Riviera or in Andalusia.
That concept wasn’t looking quite so possible at the moment.
Had it been only days ago that they’d arrived at Highgate,just before Halloween? She could remember Emily’s first hysterical call and howthey had come to be here, what they had discovered, and what they had not.
Panic seized her, along with the pain that wracked her armsand head.
She fought it. She had to stay calm and determined.
Soon, she was. There had to be a way out.
And she would find it before she ever let the wretched Vampireof Highgate add another victim to his toll.
Think back! she told herself.
The answers to her escape might well be in the memories ofthe steps they had taken that had caused her to end up where she was now.
So, first…The call from Emily that had brought them acrossthe Atlantic.
Chapter 1
“A cemetery? You want to visit another cemetery? Because ofa murder?” Andre asked Cheyenne.
She stood at the counter in the apartment they’d just rentedtogether in Alexandria, Virginia, and he couldn’t help but be reminded of thegreat day they’d had thus far. This morning, they’d brought in the last oftheir belongings, including their suitcases since they’d returned fromLouisiana to make their cohabitation arrangements and had been living out of ahotel room.
The apartment was terrific—a beautiful kitchen with modernappliances plus upgraded bathrooms—and yet the building itself was earlyVictorian, one on a street of historic row houses.
They loved it. And since they both had apartments in theD.C. area but had been busy moving things out of those and then in together,they’d opted for the ease of a hotel during the transition. Now, at last, theyhad a few days of leisure before returning to work.
Cheyenne had been with the FBI previous to meeting Andre—orre-meeting him—in Louisiana. They’d been on a strange case that had delved intoboth Cheyenne’s and Andre’s pasts. Now, she had been transferred to the Krewe,as well. They had taken down a particularly heinous killer, and that called fora few days’ reprieve from the office.
Time enough to get into their new apartment.
The master bath boasted a fabulous Jacuzzi. They’d emergedfrom it recently, and while Cheyenne delivered information regarding her recentphone call, she stood in a big, white, fluffy towel.
Andre also wore a towel. He hadn’t expected the conversationto go in this direction. She’d hopped up because she heard her cousin, Emily,on the answering machine and wanted to let her know that she’d call her back.
“We have time!” she whispered.
“To go to England?”
“She’s my cousin,” Cheyenne said. “And this is looking verybad for her.”
Cousin…Cheyenne cannot lose another cousin.
Still. Emily lived in England.
“Cheyenne, we’re Krewe, but that’s still FBI. We don’t haveany authority or power in London or Highgate.” He paused. “Is Highgate just thecemetery, or is it a town?”
“It’s a cemetery and a suburban area of north London,”Cheyenne said. She stared at him with wide eyes full of hope.
She had the most unusual eyes. They weren’t brown. And theyweren’t green or blue. Instead, they had facets of both green and blue thatgrew more pronounced depending on her mood rather than any color she might bewearing. They could appear like the sky at times. At other times, they burnedas gold as any fire.
She was going, he knew. Whether he did or not.
He hesitated. Their recent case had revolved around acemetery, too.
And was a replay back to old murders, with one of thevictims having been Cheyenne’s cousin.
“All right.”
“All right?”
“Of course. Your cousin is in trouble. We will have no poweror authority, but we can be there to give her emotional strength and help her figureout what’s going on and… What is going on?” he asked.
“A vampire seems to be behind it,” she said.
“A vampire?”
The Krewe of Hunters were members of an unusual unit of thebureau. They had the unique ability to speak to the dead who remained behind,those who chose to communicate with the living.
But vampires?
“A murderer,” she said quietly. “One who is choosing torevitalize the story of the Vampire of Highgate, leaving a trail of dead. Oneof those victims was found on Emily’s front porch.”
“Ah, um, ah,” he said. “Okay, so…we’ll see who Adam Harrisonmight know over there and if he can help us any with local authorities.” Adamwas the Krewe’s founder, a man as well known for his diplomatic and charitableachievements as he was for his work with the bureau. An amazing man. Still…
Highgate. Andre was sure it was a lovely town. But they wereAmerican. And the crimes were being committed in England.
And, no pun intended, even to himself, he was sick to deathof cemeteries.
“You’ll have to bring me up to date on the old legends ofthe Highgate vampire.”
She nodded solemnly. “We’ll both go? Really?”
“Really. Of course.”
She smiled and flew across the distance that separated them,straight into his arms. Her towel fell to the floor along the way. When sheleapt into his arms, his towel dropped, too.
The night was going to be all right, after all.
But come the morning…
He wasn’t going to think about the morning right now. He wasjust going to breathe in the scent of her and feel the silk of her skin and hair…
And watch that beautiful, burning golden light that cameinto her eyes when they made love.
* * * *
“Media,” Andre said, glancing at Cheyenne. “So, reading up,here’s what I see. There was an incident at Tottenham Park Cemetery in Londonin 1968. Very weird things were done. Vandalism, but with bones and flowers.One grave was dug up, the coffin opened, and the body in it staked through theheart. Right after that, various people began seeing things at HighgateCemetery: a lady in white, a ghostly cyclist,
