Chapter 5

Regrets

Intro Song: Breakdown by Seether

Author's Note: Victoria Silver is the first vampire OC introduced in this book. When I was describing her, all I could think of was Kate Beckinsale. Yes, I know she's played a very sexy vampire before. This character is completely different and original, but do picture her when you read it...

What the fu...?!"

Ryder England's stunned curse went unheard over the din of destruction. On high alert, he cautiously stepped into the hornet's nest that normally passed for Josef Kostan's residence.

England had finally returned to Los Angeles after the trip from hell back from Chile. He had been forced to charter a jet to escape the chaos that a major earthquake had caused. Roads were closed, buildings destroyed, and most airports had sustained significant damage. Mechanical and logistics problems, which included bribes to certain officials, had forced unscheduled – and lengthy – layovers, costing additional time and money.

Despite assurances to the contrary, Ryder was still concerned that none of this had gone over well with his employer, Josef Kostan, who would be picking up the bill. Hence, his first stop upon landing at 4:00 AM, was Kostan's home, in order to apologize for the misadventure in person.

The lanky vampire stepped cautiously through the front door and immediately heard shouting coming from the direction of Josef's living room. He winced – this was not a good sign! Taking a deep breath and preparing himself to take the brunt of Josef's wrath, he walked into the room. The scene that greeted him was not what he had expected.

The floor was littered with the carcasses of bottles that had once contained various wines and spirits. One ruined wall of the room was streaked with their contents. Ryder made his way cautiously through the debris toward his employer, who was, at that moment, sinking into an armchair on the far side of the room, his eyes wrathful. He had never seen his employer like this and it scared him. "Josef! What happened?!"

Kostan glared at him and shouted, "Go away, Ryder. Leave me the hell alone!"

England turned to leave, confused. It was then that he spotted the female stranger sitting on the couch, as far away from Josef as possible. One sniff identified her as a vampire - and an old one at that, judging by the odor of decay, detectable only to other vampires. "Who are you?!" he demanded. "What are you doing in here?!"

Victoria Silver languidly got up and approached Ryder, who watched her, mouth agape. "There's no need to worry about me, although I'm sure Mr. Kostan appreciates your concern. At least, he will, when he is more himself. I'm an old friend, Victoria Silver." She extended her hand to the surprised vampire as she spoke.

"Ry– Ryder England." he stammered. "What's happened here?" He gestured at the pool of bourbon, fine cognac and rare wines surrounding the remains of expensive decanters.

"Josef got some bad news a short time ago, I'm afraid." Victoria hesitated. "He's…. processing."

"Processing?! It looks more like he's a one–man wrecking ball! What the hell is he processing?" He had been caught too off–guard by the situation to ask the beautiful woman what she was doing in Josef's home at this hour. "Has anyone called Mick?"

"Mick? Who's Mick?" Victoria responded, providing Ryder with an answer to his question.

"He's Josef's best friend. If something bad has happened, he should be here – and don't worry, he's a vampire. I'll go call him." He practically ran from the room, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he went. Realizing the odd hour of the call would put Mick on alert, Ryder started talking immediately. "Mick, Ryder. Look, I'm at Josef's. You'd…. you'd better get over here. Josef's losing it!"

"Mick?"

Beth stirred sleepily on the couch in Mick's living room where she had again spent the night. She was awakened by sounds overhead and sat up to the sight of Mick jumping down the stairs, floating past all of them.

"Mick, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry if I woke you up, Beth," Mick hurried past her to grab a pitcher of blood out of his hidden refrigerator and pour himself a glass. Beth purposefully looked away as Mick gulped down the thick red liquid. She wasn't awake enough to handle that image this early in the morning.

"What time is it?" She groggily rubbed at her face - hadn't she just gone to sleep? "What's wrong," she repeated.

"Very early." Mick absentmindedly sat his now–empty glass down on the counter, rinsing his mouth with water before he came over to sit down on the couch beside her. He leaned over and enveloped her in a bear hug, kissing her neck as he did so, a move that caused Beth to shiver with pleasure. Would she ever become accustomed to the innate sexiness of this man? Somehow, I doubt it.

"I'm sorry, Beth. I've got to go. I don't know when I'll be back."

"OK but what happened?!" She pulled herself upright on the sofa, shaking the cobwebs out of her head as she came fully awake.

"Ryder called. Josef's in trouble… and that's all I know," he added, holding up his fingers to her lips as she opened her mouth to ask more. Normally, he found her curiosity adorable, even desirable. Once started, however, Beth was a non–stop question machine, and he had to get going.

Ever the quick study, she pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, taking another tact. "When did Ryder get back?" She fixed on something safe as Mick clearly didn't want to talk about Josef.

"Sometime last night I guess. Look, Beth, I know you have a lot of questions – and so do I. I just don't have any answers yet. All I know is that Ryder just called me and told me to get over to Josef's right away. He said Josef was '…losing it', whatever the hell that means." Mick sighed in exasperation over his inability to get any useful information from Ryder England. "Then he hung up."

"Do you…" she started, swinging her legs out from under her cover and putting her feet on the floor.

Mick anticipated her reaction and cut her off. He placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her away from him slightly so that her blue eyes met his intense hazel gaze. He spoke in a carefully metered tone which indicated there was no room for further discussion. "No, Beth. I have no idea what's going on. You stay here, get some more sleep. I'll call you as soon as I can." Mick pulled her to him for one lingering kiss and was out the door with preternatural speed before she could say anything else.

She sighed. It wasn't fair! How would she ever win an argument with Mick if he could disappear like that?! Beth knew that there would be no more sleep for her this morning, but she was reluctant to admit defeat. She lay back down on the soft, butterscotch–colored leather. What next?

Pulling the throw back up, she closed her eyes again.

What now?

Mick St. John's thoughts were similar to Beth's. He chewed the inside of his cheek in worry as he expertly maneuvered his Mercedes convertible through the pre–dawn streets. At least there was little traffic to contend with at this hour.

While he drove, Mick let his mind roam back over the events of the past weekend. It had been a peaceful oasis in his hectic life and, for the first time since he could remember, he felt he had a chance at happiness. The thought made him smile as he floored the accelerator and roared up into the hills overlooking Los Angeles.

He pulled up in front of Josef's house, jumping out of the car before it had even rolled to a complete stop, and running through the door at top speed. Ryder met him just inside.

"What the hell's going on, Ryder?"

"Mick, I don't really know." Ryder's friendly, open face wore a concerned look as he filled in the private investigator. "I finally got back from Chile, landed about 4:00 AM and came right here. When I walked in, Josef was having a fit in the study, breaking bottles, crying…" He trailed off, not sure how much to say to Mick.

"What else, Ryder? What else aren't you telling me?" Mick pressed him, nose–to–nose in a threatening posture.

"I don't know much else!" Ryder tried to back away from the irate vampire, who shifted with him, staying in his face. "There's some woman in there with him though – a vamp, an old one. She said her name is Victoria Silver. Do you know her?" At this point, all Ryder England wanted was for someone else to take charge of this mess so that he could go home to his freezer.

"No. No I don't." St. John, concerned, backed off. "Look, hang around here while I check this out. Stay, Ryder!" This last was said in a commanding tone, the private investigator pointing a finger at the intimidated vampire, who nodded mutely. Leaving England to his own devices, Mick stalked off into Josef's living room.

Josef Kostan didn't look up or acknowledge Mick's presence as his best friend entered the room. He had finally collapsed into an armchair, staring out past the wall of glass to the darkness beyond. The first faint hint of dawn created a halo effect on the hillside below.

Mick walked slowly into the room, taking in the debris from the shattered bottles. Shards of glass were still floating in the pool of alcohol that was the aftermath of all the destruction. As his eyes swept the room, he caught the eye of the female vampire Ryder had mentioned. She rose from her place on the designer couch and started toward him.

He raised his hand, gesturing for her to stop. "Do you mind leaving us alone?" His tone of voice suggested that this was not really a question. Who or what she was, and why she was here, he would get to later. Right now, his concern was for his friend, and he didn't want to provoke any further outbursts.

She smiled slightly. "Of course. I'll wait for you in the music room."

Josef! In all our years together, I've never seen him like this. Josef never lets anything bother him this much.

Mick waited until she exited, then walked over to his friend. "Josef," he said softly as he reached his side, slowly squatting down next to the chair to peer into his face. "What's going on?"

Kostan stared at his friend but didn't seem to really see him. His eyes were dry, but his face showed traces of tears he had shed earlier. In his hand, was the last bottle of the rare Hardy Cognac. Every few minutes, he put the bottle up to his lips and sipped from it, not bothering with a glass. Mick carefully put his hand on his friend's arm. "Josef. Tell me what's happened?"

The touch seemed to break Josef's trance and he focused on St. John. "She's gone, Mick." The words seemed to cause him actual pain as he uttered them. "Sara... she's gone."

"What happened?" Mick eased the cognac bottle out of Kostan's hand as he spoke. It certainly appeared that his friend had already been over–served in the alcohol department. And, after all, it was Hardy Cognac – probably the last bottle of it, from the looks of things.

"I... I don't know. I got a call – from the director of the home health agency that supplies the nurses that take care of Sara – like Paula. You know, you saw Paula."

Mick nodded wordlessly, thinking of the pleasant, motherly woman he had met when he first saw Sara.

Josef looked up at him, his eyes full of despair. "The director wasn't quite sure what happened either. All she knew was that there had been a fire – maybe even an explosion – at the house. And Sara was... dead." He almost choked on that last word.

"Josef, I'm so sorry," Mick whispered, feeling tears burn just behind his eyes as he took in the enormity of the loss for his friend. He squeezed his mentor's arm, then leaned over to hug him, giving him the comfort, through his presence, that words could not. Josef would never normally accept such an overt display of emotion, but now, he allowed it. This, more than anything else, told his friend how much Josef was hurting.

His first order of business was to restore some semblance of sanity, or at least something approaching that, to the situation. Mick rose and walked over to Kostan's bar. Opening the state–of–the–art Sub Zero refrigerator, he retrieved an elegant decanter, glistening ruby red in the lit interior. Grabbing a glass from an overhead cabinet, he filled it with the dark liquid, and returned to his friend.

"Here," he offered simply, extending the nourishment to Josef. "Sorry, there aren't any freshies on hand; this'll have to do."

Josef took the glass without looking, almost unconsciously drinking deeply of the life–sustaining fluid. After draining the glass, he spoke again. "She didn't have a chance, Mick. They told me the place burned to the ground..." He shook his head, rubbing at his forehead with his free hand, as if the very thought caused him physical pain. "When the agency director called, she told me that… that Paula is dead too," Josef said through gritted teeth, referring to Sara's long–time nurse and caregiver. "She and Sara – they both burned to death." His voice cracked on the last word.

"Josef." Mick sat down on the adjacent footstool and leaned toward his friend, elbows on his knees, his hands clasped. "That wasn't really Sara... it was just her body. You know that don't you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do," Kostan acknowledged softly. "I'm a realist, Mick, you know that. She wasn't likely to ever recover, not after this long. But you know… as long as she was there, I could still hope. I could visit her and look at her face. I just can't bear the thought of what happened. That she was burned!" Josef's eyes filled with pain. "I know it doesn't make any sense. But you, of all people, can understand that love doesn't always make sense."

Mick met his anguished stare. No, it sure doesn't, Josef. I'm sure as hell living – well, unliving – proof of that. First I fall in love with a vampire as a human – then I fall in love with a human as a vampire. No, I'm probably not the best person to be talking about making sense of love. Instead, he said, "How can I help you? What can I do?" The P.I. sat expectantly, waiting for Josef to tell him to do something, anything.

"Get me to New York, Mick." Josef raised red eyes to meet his friend's sympathetic hazel ones. "Just get me there, okay?"

"You got it, brother." Mick St. John got up, squeezed Kostan's shoulder comfortingly, and walked from the room. Not seeing Ryder or the mystery guest in the entryway, he hurried down the long hallway toward the kitchen, sure that Josef's wayward assistant would be there. His instincts were correct – Ryder was sitting at the long granite counter in the ultra–modern kitchen, finishing up a tall glass of blood from the pitcher Josef kept handy in the refrigerator there.

"Ryder!" he bellowed from the doorway.

England had not heard him coming and jumped, spilling the last few drops in the glass down the front of his shirt. "Dammit, Mick! Don't sneak up on me like that, especially not with what's going on around here." He took a deep breath. "What the hell is going on, anyway?"

"Never mind, I'll fill you in later. Right now, I need for you to arrange a flight for us to get to New York City as soon as possible. Is Josef's jet available?"

"I can check. The last I knew, it was grounded for maintenance. If it's not, I'll find another one – maybe the one I came in from Chile on. How soon do you want to leave?" Ryder got up, brushing at his shirt to remove, as best he could, the signs of the blood he had spilled.

"An hour ago! It's almost dawn already. Now, where is Josef's guest?"

Beth watched the approaching dawn brighten the sky from her vantage point on the penthouse roof. As she had suspected, sleep eluded her after Mick left, despite her best efforts. The apartment felt lonely and empty with him gone. Finally giving up on the idea of getting back to sleep, she had wrapped the cashmere throw around herself and, after brewing a pot of strong coffee, made her way up to the roof to watch the sunrise.

As she watched the orange and gold fire fill the horizon, she thought about some of the conversations she and Mick had had on this rooftop. He often came up here to seek solace from his inner demons, but it rarely afforded him the kind of peace he sought. Beth had once read on a cross–stitched sampler - in the line at Splash Mountain at Disney World of all places - that said, "You can't run away from trouble. Ain't no place that far." That simple homily certainly applied to Mick's efforts to escape his personal turmoil.

Sipping her coffee, she recalled their conversation when she had discovered that he had indeed been the man who saved her after she was kidnapped by the vampire Coraline at age four. She had confronted him on this rooftop with her suspicions. To her astonishment, far from being proud of what he had done, he had been ashamed of it.

"Why did you hide it? Made me think it was my imagination?"

"You have every right to be angry."

The response had shocked her – he wasn't even able to look her in the eye. She'd tried to make him feel better by letting him know how much she valued what he had done for her. "I'm not angry. I found my guardian angel. I just wish he'd talk to me...I could have lived my life in fear, but somehow, I always felt safe. Now I know why."

"Now you know why it can never work."

The conversation had made her fully aware, for the first time, of just what a tortured soul Mick St. John really was. She had tried to reassure him with her words and actions. As dawn broke and the sun's rays hit the rooftop, he had raised his hand to shield his face. She had stepped forward, raising her hand to his to help shelter him. "All I know is, ever since I met you, I've stopped using the word 'never'." She still remembered how it had felt to kiss him gently on the cheek, her fingers entwined with his, as the light brightened around them on the rooftop. He had looked at her with such pain and longing in his eyes that it almost broke her heart. But instead of coming to her, he had moved away, the golden sunlight chasing him down the stairs into his apartment.

Even though he had finally taken what was, for him, the extremely difficult step of beginning a relationship with her, she knew that he was still tormented by what he perceived as the dangers to her that their relationship posed. Making him feel loved and secure was, to her, a much bigger challenge than any real or imagined threat.

Beth took a few more moments to watch the sun continue its rise, smiling at thoughts of Mick and the weekend together that was just ending. Just as quickly, however, her thoughts turned dark and she started to worry about him. Where is he? What's happening with Josef? Resolutely, she finished the last of her coffee, deciding that she may as well go in to work early. It would be nice to arrive before Talbot and get a jump on the day... and it would help to keep fear from consuming her thoughts.

What a way to start the week, she thought ruefully, gathering up her trailing blanket as she headed inside to get ready for the day ahead.

Sunrise brought no comfort to those at the Hollywood Hills residence of Josef Kostan.

After seeing the pain his friend was in, Mick St. John was in no mood for idle chit-chat as he stalked into the music room in search of Josef's 'house guest'. "Victoria Silver," the lovely young–old vampire purred, gracefully rising from the couch and gliding up to him. The early dawn light that somehow made its way through the deeply tinted windows reflected from her sky–blue eyes fringed with dark, thick eyelashes.

In perfect contrast to those pale blue eyes, her near–ebony hair was long and gleaming, settling in thick waves around her face. She was wearing form–fitting black pencil pants and a long, dramatic, Nehru–type jacket. Mick could not help but notice that her figure, underneath the deceptively simple outfit, was toned and model–worthy – the kind of figure Beth would disparagingly term 'broomstick'.

Oh, great. Just what I need – a high–maintenance female vampire.

He stood his ground, arching one eyebrow as Victoria approached, completely oblivious to how sexy that simple action was – a fact not lost, however, on the woman in front of him. "You must be Mick St. John," she finished the introductions for him. "Ryder told me you are Josef's best friend. I hope that's true – he's going to need someone right now."

"Excuse me, but who, exactly, are you?" He ran his hand through his long hair, exasperated and worried. He was anxious to get all the facts surrounding his friend's breakdown, but he was also - if he were to be honest with himself – intrigued. He'd never heard of Victoria Silver, yet, here she was, apparently a guest in Josef's house. From the odor of decay, a smell not at all repellent to vampires, he could tell that she was much older than he. Ryder was right.

"I'm an old friend of Josef's from New York City." She paused, holding up her hand. "And, before you ask, I don't know anything about the death of Sara Whitley. I knew about her, of course, but I found out about her death when Josef did."

"Josef mentioned a call." He frowned as he processed the information Victoria provided, including the fact that she had known about Sara "of course". Well, I didn't know about Sara – not until I followed him and found it out on my own. And I'm supposed to be his best friend. So, who is this woman?

"Yes, someone called to tell him while I was sitting in the living room with him. I was trying not to eavesdrop because it seemed like a very private conversation, but I did hear a woman's voice on the other end. No idea who it might have been, though. Then, Josef just went berserk – breaking things, crying Sara's name… I've known him a long time and I've never seen him like that" She said all this in a matter–of–fact tone, but her eyes betrayed her concern. "Josef is a dear friend. I want to help if I can."

"Well, he's adamant about going to New York as soon as possible. I've got Ryder making the arrangements now."

"That is not a good idea," Victoria stated flatly, crossing her arms.

"Why? "Good idea or not, it's what he intends to do. So, why isn't it a good idea, Victoria? Help me understand because I don't get it." Mick worked to tamp down his frustration as he continued. "What is the possible harm in his seeing what happened for himself? You have to know that would help give him closure on all this so he can accept that he will be without her."

"Are you planning on going as his chaperon?" she challenged.

"No. I'm going as his friend." Mick emphasized that last word. "To help him. And to...investigate," he finished lamely. He did not like the way she made him feel off–balance, uncertain. "Look, I don't have to answer to you – or explain myself. It's my job to protect Josef – and my responsibility as his friend to support him."

"Well, then, if I can't change your mind, I suggest that you get on with your 'job' – but I'm going too, of course." Victoria's eyes flashed white briefly, daring him to contradict her.

Mick could not think of a good reason to do so... yet. "I've got Ryder making the arrangements. We leave for the airport in less than an hour," Mick stated with a confidence he did not feel. Who does she think she is - why does she think she can tell me – us – what to do?

"Dammit! Come on... MOVE!"

Beth struck the steering wheel with her fist as her frustration with the Monday morning drive into downtown Los Angeles hit critical mass, inflamed by the comedy of errors that had become her morning.

She'd planned to get into the office early to get a jump on her workload - a goal that had seemed reasonable at the time. The problem was, mid–shower, she'd realized that almost her entire wardrobe was at her apartment.

Her weekend had been so blissful with Mick that she hadn't thought about the realities of clothes, shoes, and all the other items she needed in order to be presentable at work. That meant she had to leave the penthouse, go back home, get dressed – and then start her drive to work. Though her apartment was only a mile or so from his, the time lost brought her closer to the dreaded rush hour.

And that was where she now sat... on the 10 Freeway, inching towards downtown. So much for the best laid plans of Beth Turner.

"Note to self – if you are going to spend Sunday nights with Mick, remember to bring some Monday morning work clothes with you," she grumbled.

Beth glanced at her silent cell phone, sitting silently on the passenger seat. Why hasn't he called yet? Sure, Mick was a "big boy" - not to mention a vampire - and was very capable of taking care of himself. Mostly. But that did nothing to lessen her concern for his safety, given his penchant for getting himself into trouble.

She continued to worry, gripe, and occasionally swear at a bad driver, all the way into her parking structure. Finally at her destination, Beth grabbed her bag and ran for the office building housing the District Attorney offices. By the time she was at her cubicle and turning on her computer, it was... almost nine o'clock! Great. Just great.

With one last glance at the silent phone she had dropped on her desktop, Beth Turner resigned herself to the idea of a crappy day with a sigh.

Josef and Victoria had spent the last hour arguing over the advisability – or lack thereof – of Josef rushing to New York City on what Victoria had uncharitably termed a "fool's errand".

"Josef, there is nothing for you to see there – and, just as importantly, nothing for you to do there. If this is the work of Crucis – and I would bet your money it is - they will be long gone and there will be no trace for your friend here," she gestured toward Mick St. John, "to investigate. I can promise you that. I simply cannot agree with your putting yourself needlessly in harm's way like this – just when we may need you most."

Josef let Victoria have her say. His boyish features were drawn and haggard, but his jaw was set, eyes hard. "This is not open for discussion… He turned and bellowed, "Ryder!" His assistant had been hovering just outside the music room door and rushed in at the sound of his name.

"Ryder, I want to be in the air within two hours. Oh, and call Simone and let her know that I had to leave town for a couple of days. Tell her I'll call her when I get back." Mick raised one eyebrow at this and thought to himself, "Is there more to that relationship than I thought?" Josef caught the gesture and turned on his friend irritably. "What?! She's my chief damn attorney and I've got a lot of irons in the fire!"

Kostan turned on his heel and stormed off to pack an overnight bag, leaving Victoria to fume in front of a thoroughly puzzled private investigator.

"Can I ask what the hell you were talking about?" Mick clenched his fists in frustration. If he was responsible for Josef's safety, he needed to understand what this mysterious vampire knew.

"It's not for me to say, Mick. What – and how much – he wants to disclose is up to Josef. I can tell you that he is putting himself in danger by going to New York." Victoria sighed. "He's a big boy, though – and he's always known what he wants. There probably isn't anything either of us could do to stop him, so all we can do is try to keep him out of harm's way."

Mick said nothing, but, silently, he agreed. What the hell kind of trouble is Josef getting us into?

End Song: Trouble by Coldplay