Chapter 68

Into the Nothing

Author's note: Sorry about the long delay for this chapter, folks. This is my busiest time of the year (and no, I'm not an accountant or tax preparer, LOL). I'll try to get the next one out soon to follow up on what's a pretty significant development in this chapter…

Intro song: Telling All My Secrets, Mitchell Tenpenny

Tiredly, Josef peeled off his Armani suit jacket, tossing it on the suede love seat in the master bedroom's sitting area. In the dark study, his shoes reflected errant rays of moonlight that breached the silk curtains. Though the jet ride back had been quick and relatively comfortable - as air travel went - the trip was still too long for his tastes. At his stage of life, long journeys were just too complicated unless they were for very good reasons. Not that saving Victoria's beautiful ass – and, as it turned out, Gabrielle Sinclair's equally lovely ass as well - didn't qualify as good reasons. But late night drives in his Lamborghini along Pacific Coast Highway, quick jaunts to the vineyard and other select, exclusive destinations – that was his preference. Let the restless jets-setters have all this bi-coastal jockeying; it just didn't appeal to him much anymore. Thankfully, the demands of running a conglomerate gave him good reason to decline the many offers. And the idea of trying to navigate the logistics of overseas travel made his head hurt just to think about it. Maybe that boat ride over here was my lifetime travel limit…

Whatever the case, he was happy to be back. As he moved toward the bed, the sounds of soft breathing and the familiar human scent informed him that Simone was there, sleeping – or rather, trying to convince him that she was. He grinned delightedly. It was a very good attempt.

"Nice game of possum, but I know you're awake."

Simone Walker didn't even try to maintain the subterfuge. She sat upright, and turned on the elegant stainless steel lamp on the nightstand. Squinting in the sudden light, she drew up her legs and wrapped her bare arms around them, propping her chin on her knees . "Josef! You surprised me – you're back much earlier than I thought you'd be."

"Yeah, caught a break on the tail winds and we made great time." He loosened his tie and undid the top buttons of his dress shirt, simultaneously kicking off his shoes. "Nice to catch a break on something for a change."

Simone reached up to catch his hand as he came to the side of the bed, pulling him down to sit next to her. "What's the matter, Josef? Is everything okay?"

He smiled distractedly, running his hand over her thick, almost unruly, chestnut hair to smooth down stray strands disheveled from her attempt at sleep. "It is now."

"I can tell when you're being evasive. What happened in New York?" The attorney was all too familiar with Kostan's diversionary tactics.

Josef closed his eyes for a moment, massaging the bridge of his nose. What perplexed him most about Simone was that she could see through him like few others – and more often than not, called him out on what she saw. And he allowed it, which was also a bit mystifying. Dropping his hand, he turned to her and recited, "Let's see… I rescued Victoria's reputation...spoke to the Eastern Vampire Council… told them in so many words to take their heads out of their asses… almost had to spank a kiddie vamp who really was supremely pissing me off… oh yeah, and had to keep Gabrielle off the guillotine for killing someone in front of the Council without permission… you know, the usual day at the office."

"Damn, Josef! Okay, a few questions here. Why did you have to go to New York?! And what is this Vampire Council? This is the first I'm hearing of any such group. As your lawyer, that's not okay! And as your…friend…it's very concerning. What the hell is going on?!"

The billionaire swung around and put his legs up on the bed, leaning back against the headboard next to her. He put his arm around her bare shoulders while he thought about how much to tell her. Tell her all of it - she's tough, she can take it.

"Okay, I'll tell you – but just remember, you asked for it. In New York, a number of prominent, well-positioned vampires have gone missing – the type of vamps who don't just up and disappear. High-powered, wealthy, leaders in the community there. Leaders on both on the vamp side and the human side. You knew that Victoria Silver, my old friend who heads up the community, was attacked when we were in New York before – and there was another, similar attack recently. Gabrielle's sire to be exact. Put that together with Sara's murder and what happened to Mick and…" He trailed off, shrugging his shoulders.

Her brown eyes widened in horror. "These aren't random events – you think this is a coordinated assault. Someone is behind all this!" When Kostan nodded, she asked, "What does this Council have to do with it? Do they have any authority over you?"

"There are councils in large communities around the country to deal with larger issues. And no, they can't tell me what to do. I'm not beholden to anything they do or say in New York, but they do have authority over the whole Eastern Seaboard. That said, it's really a voluntary thing – no one has to follow their direction, they all just usually go along because of pragmatism. Somebody has to look at the bigger picture."

He sighed heavily. "Gabrielle's sire, for example, has not been cooperative on many an occasion – and there are others. I'll explain it to you in more detail when I'm not so tired. What's important to know is that whoever is behind all these events means business, and not even humans are safe. Paula, the cop in Campo… any human near a vampire could be in danger if this escalates." Why are you telling her your secrets?

He put his forefinger under her chin to lift her eyes to his. "You might be better off getting as far away from me as possible, Simone. If I'm right about all this - and I'm pretty damn sure I am - things could get very dangerous for people who are connected to vamps. It may not be safe for you to be with me..."

The beautiful brunette folded her slender arms "If I'd been inclined to leave when things got complicated, Josef, I'd have run for the hills when I first saw Mick brought in here."

"But you didn't." Josef's voice was soft; he almost seemed to be talking to himself.

"No. I didn't." Simone leaned in and kissed him. "I would never leave you if you needed me."

"What about if I didn't need you... but I wanted you." His boyish face and voice were carefully impassive as he waited for her response.

Simone sighed. Here was the crux of the issue, and why a large part of her was afraid that she and Josef would never have what Mick and Beth appeared to. "Josef, you won't let yourself need anyone - except maybe Mick, and you even keep him at arm's length most of the time. You want objects, things... Wanting me isn't the same thing as needing me, is it? I would like to be needed – as more than just your lawyer." She shrugged off his arm and turned to grab her robe. Maybe she should adjourn to one of the guest bedrooms for the night.

Josef reached out and caught one slender wrist. "Simone, don't go. You're right." He pulled her onto his lap and nuzzled her neck. He didn't need vampire abilities to read the hurt in her eyes. After all she'd done for him, she didn't deserve this. Kostan, you're a bastard. He tried to make amends. "I'm sorry. I know I can be a prick."

"Can be?" Her mouth twitched with amusement in spite of her best efforts to maintain her anger.

"Well, since you put it that way..."

She had to laugh. Damn him! He could get to her so easily, her moods shifting like sand when she was with him. On some level, she was as addicted, as she was attracted, to Josef Kostan. His intelligence, his power, and the mysterious world he lived in – it all drew her to him. Whether it's good for you or not.

"I just need for you to keep my secrets. Promise me you'll keep them."

"Of course I will. Attorney-client privilege, you know." Smarting at the knowledge that he felt the need to extract a promise from her, she turned her face away.

"What? What's going through that pretty head of yours now?" He reached out to turn her face back to him so he could see her eyes.

Simone shrugged off her hurt. There was no future in that. Josef lived in a very different world from hers and he wasn't used to trusting humans. Instead, she dragged one well-manicured nail slowly down the bit of chest exposed through his shirt and said only, "You tell me…vampire."

Kostan knew that tone well. He grinned widely, ensuring that she had a very clear view of his fangs, and shifted to balance her more squarely on his lap. The heat and scent of arousal that wafted from her was unmistakable.

Taking his cue, Simone leaned in, and kissed him, sticking her tongue between his lips. Making him moan deep in his throat. You like that? Try this on for size! She started biting him, first his earlobe, then his neck, and finally his lower lip, pulling it slightly before releasing him.

Without warning, Josef reached out and tugged at her gown so fast that it took Simone a split second to realize that he had stripped her naked. Surprise was quickly replaced by desire and she pushed against him, kissing him again. Hard. When he moved his hand down between her legs, it was her complete undoing. This time, she did the moaning.

Josef leaned in and quietly asked, in that voice, "Are you ready for this, Simone?" He meant many things, not all of them sexual. Fully aware of what he was asking, she answered the only way she could. "Yes."

John Giles stood at the large windows in the CHOIR conference room, looking out over the darkness of Lake Michigan. At just over 22,000 square miles, the body of water was more like an ocean than a lake – and just as forbidding in the dark.

Running a hand through his thinning hair, he caught sight of his reflection in the glass and scowled. A charitable person might describe his lined face and narrow eyes as 'interesting', but after almost two days without sleep, what he saw in the glass looked more like a ghoul to him. Get some rest, John! Rebecca's voice echoed in his ears, sounding as real as if she were standing next to him. He started to turn around to speak to her, then caught himself, his eyes abruptly filling with tears. With each passing hour, he became more convinced that he would never hear her voice again. Why had they ever started down this road? He reminded himself that, had he not become involved, first with CHOIR, then with Crucis, he would never have met Rebecca at all. The thought gave him little comfort now.

'Tis better to have loved and lost...' The words from one of his favorite poems jumped into his head, unbidden."Tennyson got it all wrong," he muttered darkly. The hours since he had arrived in Chicago had been agonizing.

As Christophe had promised, Brian Stewart had picked Giles up at the airport and brought him directly to the CHOIR offices. Their opulence had surprised – and dismayed – him. The philanthropic cover organization for Crucis occupied the entire 28th floor of the Michigan Avenue skyscraper with spectacular views of Lake Michigan, Millennium Park, and the popular Cloud Gate sculpture. Positioned a short block from Lake Shore Drive, Giles could only imagine how costly the space must be. Did no one ever question how a supposedly non-profit, charitable organization like CHOIR could afford all this? Or whether they should?

"And what about Crucis?" he had thought bitterly. Could the money spent on this space not have been put to better use for their purposes? More accurate intelligence about the whereabouts and movement of vamps? More and better ammunition against them? Security for people like Rebecca when they traveled?

He had met with as many of the Crucis operatives as could be assembled at that early hour, quizzing them about their last interactions with his wife - what she had been working on with any of them, contacts she may have made, meetings she may have had. He came up with surprisingly little.

Even though he had been forewarned by both Christophe and Rebecca about the Chicago group's inadequacies, their lack of information, knowledge, and organization had appalled him. How could these inept people ever hope to execute the plan Durand had outlined for the defeat and annihilation of the large community of vampires Crucis knew existed in the city?

He questioned himself as well. Why didn't he know more of the specifics about what Rebecca had been doing here? Why had he agreed that Christophe could send Rebecca here to whip them into shape for the coming battles? Even though she was a woman with a mind of her own, and definitely not one to take kindly to any orders or directions from her husband, he could have...you should have...at least expressed his concern for her safety and well-being. Instead, he had blithely kissed her goodbye at the airport, with a promise to meet up 'soon'. What was I thinking?! Those questions – and more - buzzed around in his head like a swarm of angry bees as he had awaited the arrival of the entire Chicago team.

He had assigned those present that morning to specific areas of investigation – those few contacts of Rebecca's that the group knew about, police and P.I. sources of information, hospitals…and morgues. He, himself, had checked the hospitals and morgues closest to the office complex, girding himself for what he might find.

John wasn't sure if he was relieved – or even more worried – by the fact that he had come up empty-handed in his search. The image of Rebecca, drained and tossed aside by vampires like so much garbage, again flashed across his mind. You don't know that! Determinedly, he set that fear aside… for now... as the Crucis staff began filing into the conference room.

Exhausted by his fear, Giles faced the group, which now included those members who had not been available for the early morning meeting he had when he first arrived. He introduced himself to the new arrivals, shaking each man's hand as he took a seat at the conference table. There are no women here. As that thought occurred to him, he couldn't help but wonder if Rebecca had felt isolated here. If she had, she had, characteristically, not mentioned it to him.

"Nice to meet you, John. My name is Ryan Mars," intoned Adam Durand, looking Giles squarely in the eye. "I'm just sorry we had to meet under these circumstances." And, I'm sorry these incompetents here haven't come up with your wife yet. His father had been right about this bunch - even with Rebecca almost under their noses, they still hadn't managed to find her.. If he were capable of feelings, he might even have had some compassion for Giles. Emotions, however, were a weakness and a burden – and he did not allow himself either.

Giles cleared his throat. "Let's get started. I want a complete rundown from each of you - where you went, who you saw and talked to, any leads you might have uncovered, anything. I want to know every detail, no matter how insignificant it might seem."

He wrote on the flip chart as each Crucis operative recounted his investigation, tearing off pages as he filled them, and handing them to Brian to tape on the wall. When those members who had been present that morning to receive assignments, had finished their reports, he directed the group's attention to the 27" x 34" sheets, covered in writing, that now lined one side wall.

"Take a good long look at this and tell me what we're missing," he instructed them. "Even if..." He paused, finally conquering his fear so that he could continue. "Even if something happened to Rebecca, there should be some sign, some evidence somewhere."

"Even if vamps took her?" Gerry Gleeson, the director of operations in Chicago, asked quietly. A slight man with pointed features, he caught Giles' murderous scowl and hastened to add, "I'm not saying that's what happened. I'm just suggesting that there are things that could possibly have happened to her that would leave no trace, hard as that may be to think about."

"I don't accept that." Giles countered firmly. "There are always traces - you just may not be skilled enough to uncover them."

Several of the team members shifted in their chairs at that comment and Adam could see that a number of them were bristling at the obvious slur to their abilities. He smiled to himself. His father's plan was going well.

"John, we know you're upset, but there's no need for- ," Gerry began.

"You're damn right, I'm upset. Actually, I'm way past 'upset', Gerry. I'm fucking furious!" Giles exploded, pounding on the table. "If this were one of your family members, how would you feel?!" He jabbed his forefinger viciously in the smaller man's face. "Would it be acceptable to not know what each other is working on? To not have a plan in place for people to follow if someone goes missing? Hell, to not even know that one of your own is missing?!" His voice rose on each question until he was shouting, spittle flying from his mouth.

Giles glared around the table at the operatives, most of who refused to meet his eyes. Fuck it, I'm not apologizing. He heard Rebecca's voice again. This won't help find me, John. He took a deep breath and then, in a quieter tone, he continued, "I didn't think so. Now, I'll ask you again. What are we missing?"

The parking garage, you assholes, Adam thought. He did not want to draw any undo attention to himself by being the one to bring it up, but he was incredulous that no one had thought to mention it. Christophe is right, these jerks need to be replaced; they'll never cut it when it comes to war.

After studying the wall for several minutes, Giles finally spoke again. "I don't see anything up here about the garage. Did you do a thorough search before I got here?"

There was dead silence in the room.

"Please tell me you searched it from top to bottom," he beseeched them.

Gleeson responded. "We have a designated parking area for 'CHOIR workers', John. That's where Rebecca always parks and we did search that area after you and I spoke last night. Her car was gone, which we thought indicated that something happened to her after she left here."

"Really," John responded in a cold, hard voice, his already small eyes narrowed to slits. "And I'm guessing it never occurred to you - to any of you - that she could have been attacked before she got to her car. That she could have been kidnapped and taken away in her own vehicle. That possibility didn't occur to any of you?!"

Another long silence was broken only by the sound of Giles' cursing. "Jesus-fucking-Christ! You said there are eight floors in the parking garage, right?"

Gleeson nodded confirmation, the small, dapper man looking down at his hands, folded on the mahogany tabletop, finally embarrassed by the incompetence he and his people had shown.

"Get your asses out there!" Giles raged. "I want two men on every floor. You search every inch of that place - and call me immediately if you find anything at all!"

Not wanting to be the one to find Rebecca, 'Ryan' raised his voice. "I'll take our parking space floor. Who wants to come with me?" One of the newer operatives scurried to his side. Clapping him on the shoulder, he said, "Good, Tom. Let's go."

The rest of the men paired up and headed for the door. Giles just watched them go, shaking his head. Unbelievable! While he didn't expect to actually find anything there, the fact that they had not even bothered to search it thoroughly was incredible to him. Wearily, he got up and trailed them to the garage, following 'Ryan' and Tom to the CHOIR parking area. He trained his flashlight on the hard concrete surface, looking for...something. Give me something to go on, Rebecca. He checked the area thoroughly, moving further and further away from the designated CHOIR parking, peering into cracks and crevices, checking the corners and seams where wall met floor. Nothing! Frustrated, he slammed his fist against the unyielding wall, cursing when his hand came away bloody and filthy.

Filthy... Abruptly, he wheeled around and ran back to the section of the garage reserved for CHOIR. He trained his light on an area he had noticed, but dismissed, before. An area cleaner than the rest. Much too clean... Crouching down, he touched it gently with his fingertips, rubbing them on the rough surface before bringing them up to his nose. Bleach! Shit!

He had just opened his mouth to yell for the other Crucis operatives when a call came over his phone. The call he'd been dreading.

"John, we've found her car."

"Wh- where?" he managed to whisper, his tongue sticking to the roof of his suddenly dry mouth.

"The level below ground. Far north-east corner."

"I'll be right there." John pushed himself up, his phone dropping from his nerveless fingers to the ground, where a faint voice could still be heard issuing from the tiny speaker. Ignoring it, he sprinted for the elevator.

Coming out on the lower level, Giles immediately spotted a small group huddled at the far end of the subterranean floor around Rebecca's rental, a black Jeep. She was having a lot of fun with that car, he thought inanely, recalling their conversations as he made his way across the garage on suddenly-rubbery legs.

When he got close enough to see the men's faces, his heart sank. The looks of pity and remorse told him everything he needed to know. He halted, the sudden, terrible pain in the core of his being doubling him over, making it hard for him to breath.

Gerry approached him. "John, I'm so sorry. It- it's Rebecca. You don't want to see her." He held out a steadying hand to grip Giles' arm when he swayed at the words, still bent over... Gently, the director turned the stricken man around, straightening him and guiding him back toward the elevator. "We'll take care of her for you."

That statement seemed to galvanize him. Wrenching his arm out of Gleeson's grasp, he wheeled and ran toward the car, shouting, "No! Don't you touch her! Don't any of you bastards touch her!" He elbowed through the men standing around the car to reach it - to reach her. He pried open the driver's door, his shaking hands seeming to have difficulty in remembering how to do that simple action. Then... there was Rebecca, staring at him, her beautiful green eyes clouded and open wide in shock.

For one crazed moment, he thought she might be alive - until a fly landed on her eye, walking almost daintily across her oddly soft sclera. Automatically, he reached out to shoo it away, jumping when a number of the pests took to the air. Fly eggs hatch into maggots in twenty-four hours. The thought popped up suddenly and, once acknowledged, he could not dislodge it.

"Becca?" Gently, John touched his wife's face, relieved to find that it felt almost normal. The logical part of his brain told him that she wasn't stiff because she had been dead for more than twelve hours. Rigor mortis, he knew, started six to twelve hours after death and receded another six to twelve hours later. He felt as if he had suddenly gone insane - one part of his brain was registering all these logical facts, while the rest was screaming at him to get her out, hold her, wake her up...

Giles worked up the courage to turn Rebecca's head away from him...and had to hold on to the seat back to keep from falling as the two holes on her neck came into view. No! No! His head swam and black spots appeared in front of his eyes. For a long moment, he thought he might pass out - and he welcomed the idea. Anything to get away from this nightmare!

"John, are you all right? What can we do?" The voice of one of the Crucis operators - Ryan, perhaps - sounded far away and muffled, hard to hear over the buzzing in his ears.

Giles tried to pull Rebecca's body out, but his arms seemed to have lost all strength. "Help me get her. Please... help me," he whispered, not even noticing that tears were streaming down his face. All he was aware of was his wife - and the bite marks on her neck. Something had been... at her.

The Crucis operative hurried around to the passenger side and pried open the door, crawling in to help lift the dead woman out. You looked a lot better the last time we met, sweetheart. Incongruously, he had to work to keep from yawning. The flight back from New York this morning had been much too early for his tastes - but it had been important that he be here for this, both to be able to report back to his father, and to ensure that there were no suspicions about 'Ryan'. Now, he just wanted this part to be over so that he could go grab some shut-eye.

Gleeson took Giles by the arm. "Let us get her out for you," he said kindly, moving the stricken man over to lean against the back passenger door.

As the other Crucis members watched, Giles slid down the side of the car, his legs suddenly without feeling. When his buttocks touched the hard floor, he bowed his head and began to weep openly, his hands covering his face.

"John. Do you want to see her?" Gerry asked gently. He, and the man they knew as Ryan, had maneuvered Rebecca's body out from behind the steering wheel; she was now draped over the arms of her murderer.

Giles looked up, his face and eyes wet. Rebecca's head was hanging back, her open eyes seemingly staring accusingly at him. Why did you let me die like this, John? "Please... gi- give her to me," he sobbed, his body shaking with the force of his anguish.

Cautiously, 'Ryan' laid the slain woman's body in her grieving husband's arms and stepped back, being careful to maintain a somber expression.

John cradled Rebecca in his arms as if she were a small child, caressing her cheek and crooning to her. He pulled her limp body in close to him, burying his face in her hair. What changes death wrought. She felt different, smelled different, looked different. Her skin had an odd blue tinge and her face had started to swell slightly. She looked like a caricature of his wife. Who would think that, in just a few short hours, a person could become so changed, so...unrecognizable? How strange that even her hair, draped across his hand, should feel lifeless, all vitality gone. Wasn't hair already made up of dead cells? Stop it! This is Rebecca, not some damn cadaver you're dissecting!

He hugged her, rocking her body, as his mind wandered back to their last night together. She had been giddy over the success of the explosion at Waverly Place, and antsy to move on to Chicago. He'd had to convince her to take the time to grab a few hours of sleep. Becca, come to bed. We won't get to be together again for weeks...It took his breath away to realize that this memory was the last time they would make love, the last time he would hear her cry out his name in ecstasy, the last time she would kiss him and tell him she loved him. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that the body in his arms was her as he had last seen her, before this terrible night.

"Becca, please don't leave me here alone," he wept. The group around him stepped back and looked away, clearing their throats and shifting uneasily from foot to foot.

After several long minutes, Brian touched Gleeson on the sleeve. "Gerry," he whispered urgently, "we need to get out of here. We need to get her out of here." He nodded toward the woman's body, still draped across her husband's lap. "You do not want the cops to cruise through here right now or we're all fucked."

Gleeson groaned. He was right. They had to get Giles - and Rebecca - out of here before they were seen. He knelt down next to the man huddled by the Jeep.

"John." When there was no response, he tried again, more forcefully. "John!" When Giles lifted his face, his eyes swollen and bloodshot, Gerry winced at his almost palpable pain. "John, we need to get Rebecca out of here. Get her someplace safe."

"Safe? Safe?!" Giles echoed hoarsely almost screaming at the Crucis operative. "There is no place safe! Look at her, Gerry. She was bitten! Drained by vampires. They- they fed..." His mouth worked as he tried to get the words out. "They fed on her as if she were a piece of meat. There is no place in this world 'safe' from these monsters!" He clambered to his feet, bracing himself against her car as he stood, still holding onto her limp body.

"John, let me take her for you. I promise, we'll get her someplace where no vampire can find her."

Giles drew his gun, his wife almost falling from his arms as he juggled the weapon. "No one is touching Rebecca but me. I'll go - but you are not taking her away from me."

"Okay, okay." Gerry backed slowly away, his hands raised. Great, this guy's crazy. "We won't take her away from you. You can go together. Alright?"

Giles nodded and lowered his gun, but did not holster it. He took a better grip on his wife's body and leaned back against the car, whispering softly to her. "It'll be alright, Becca. I'll get the bastards who did this. They won't be able to get near you ever again."

In an aside, Gleeson said, "Brian, go get the car," glancing over at his operative, who nodded and sprinted off. Arms crossed, he watched Durand's second-in-command, but made no further attempt to approach him. This is way above my pay grade and I don't have a death wish.

The town car pulled silently up and Gleeson opened the back door. "John, get in," he said soothingly. "Let's get Rebecca out of this garage. Brian knows where to go, don't you, Brian?"

The driver nodded grimly.

Giles leaned in to place his wife carefully on the seat, and started to clamber in behind her. Suddenly, he paused and pulled himself back out of the car, straightening to stand nose-to-nose with the startled Gleeson. "Gerry, I'm killing every one of these motherfucking monsters," he said evenly, in an almost conversational tone. "Every. Single. One. There won't be a vampire left in North America when I'm finished. I promise you. And God help the man who gets in my way."

His eyes glittering with madness, he struggled into the car, and carefully arranged Rebecca's dress and hair before laying her down across his lap. Finally satisfied, he pulled the door shut behind him and the car silently pulled away.

Looking after it, Gleeson muttered, "God help all of us."

End Song: Into The Nothing, Breaking Benjamin