Read Online Chilled to the Bone by Sindra van Yssel - Free Book Online

He shrugged and went outside to wait for Kent.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Charles looked around the old church building. The place gave him the creeps. The crosses had long since been stripped from the walls, but most of the old wooden pews remained. A few missing gave the entire nave a random appearance. The stone walls were a hundred years old, with dark mold from years of neglect. It was cold and damp, and the stale unmoving air inside smelled of mildew.
    “So is it true vampires have an aversion to crosses? And how about other religious symbols?”
    Kent shook his head. “An aversion I don’t know about, but they don’t flee at the sight of them. I haven’t tried every symbol known to man, but crosses, well, they bat them aside if they’re in the way. I wouldn’t be surprised if a strong faith would allow one to block out their mesmerizing powers, since I can block them by focusing my chi . If a holy symbol was used by someone as a way of focusing their spirit…” Kent shrugged. “There might be some basis to the legend.”
    Well, that wasn’t likely to help him. He didn’t have any faith in God—he’d have happily called himself an agnostic—and chi sounded pretty fishy to him too. But if vampires are real, why not? He decided to keep his mind open.
    “Why are we meeting here? The whole place smells like a trap.”
    “Yes,” Kent agreed. “We’re sitting ducks. They could kill us at any time.”
    Charles looked quizzically over at his friend. Had Kent gone mad?
    “But they won’t,” added Kent with calm assurance. “They know I’ve left information with people about them, and they’d have a hell of a time tracking it all down. I’m more dangerous to them dead than I am alive. Relax.”
    As if his words were some kind of ironic cue, hooded figures appeared and took up posts between the pillars at each of the four exits from the sanctuary, two in the front and two in the back. He stood still, as did Kent, and listened. He didn’t know if he’d hear breathing, or see it, even in the stillness of the old church, but he tried. He heard nothing but his and Kent’s .
    “Why the hoods?” he asked.
    “So if we see them later we won’t recognize them. They’re vampires. Normally , they might be less secretive about their faces, but the hoods indicate they are aware they cannot take our memories without meeting resistance. I’d worry more if they weren’t there.”
    Music wafted into the room , the sound of a single violin, playing a rather haunting melody. But there was no sign of a violinist. He glanced over at Kent, and for the first time that evening , his friend looked on edge. At first , the music had the same effect on him, but then a strange peace came over him. The violinist was perfect. Either the vampires had hired one of the world’s best, or more likely , it was a recording. As he listened closer , he could hear the faint sound of a piano. There was no one at the piano up in front behind where the altar once was, next to the choir loft. The hoods, the church, and the music were all there to make them uneasy, and once he knew that , it didn’t bother him anymore. If fake menace was necessary, then real menace was probably not an option. Or so I hope.
    A tall man strode in from one of the front doors, looking at home in the church and completely out of place in this century. His long black hair was tied in a pony tail of sorts, and he was paler than Doreen had been when Charles had first seen her. The layers of velvet frock coat , the jacquard vest the color of red wine, and even the white overflowing silk ruffles did not completely conceal a muscular physique. He stood behind what had once been a pulpit. The outline of a cross that had once been there remained faintly visible against the maple stain on its front. “Dearly beloved,” he began, and let the phrase hang as he parted his lips to smile broadly, his fangs glinting in the dim electric lighting from the ceiling chandelier. Old