we will do what we must in the name of God to insure that you make no others.”
Calisto frowned at the unexpected answer. “Why would I make Night Walker 45
another?”
Father Tomas kept silent, staring at the crucifix in Calisto’s hand.
Again Calisto attempted to reach the monk’s mind, only to find the same repeated chant shielding the monk’s true thoughts.
He grabbed Tomas’ robe and yanked him closer. “Answer me!” Frustration burned through Calisto. He felt his eyes glow crimson with rage.
“Santa Maria!” Father Tomas gasped and jammed a knife into Calisto’s abdomen, stabbing up underneath his ribcage.
Calisto’s eyes widened as pain seared through his chest. Blood spilled from the gaping wound, but his body tingled, healing from the inside out. He let go of the monk with one hand and plucked the knife from his torso, wrenching it free from the fanatic’s clutched hand.
Father Tomas struggled like a wild animal in the presence of a predator. Calisto dropped the knife to the floor of the car and clutched the monk with both hands. He drew Father Tomas closer.
His fangs grazed the monk’s skin just below his ear. The priest fought to break away, but Calisto’s grip was inescapable. The more the monk struggled, the stronger his pulse became. The scent of blood combined with fear intoxicated Calisto. His thirst clawed to the surface, threatening to seize control.
“Let me go! In the name of God, let me go!” Calisto’s voice was no more than a cold whisper. “I have no God.
Not anymore.”
He sank his fangs into the monk’s neck and drank. The man’s life flashed through his mind, visions of Spain and the monastery where he trained centuries ago. He lost himself in the images, so modern and yet still the home he remembered.
His lips pulled at the monk’s throat, drawing more blood. But then one of the visions made his heart stutter, an image he never expected, and one that changed everything. Calisto jerked back, but the monk’s eyes were vacant.
“No!”
It was too late. Father Tomas was dead.
Calisto released him, growling in disgust at his lack of control. He 46 LISA KESSLER
was left with more questions than answers.
Kate’s face loomed in Father Tomas’ mind. The Fraternidad knew she lived again.
And they watched her, too.
Night Walker 47
Chapter Five
Kate stretched as sunlight poured through the window into the living room. Heading into the kitchen, she made a cup of coffee and a piece of toast and shook her head in disbelief at the beautiful November day. Back in Reno the days had already cooled as winter moved in, but here in San Diego, she could wear shorts into December. Though the climate here was familiar, she still found it amazing.
She popped open her laptop and glanced over the top local news stories on her homepage. Years ago, her father read the newspaper at this same countertop every morning. The memory brought a smile to her lips.
Settled in with her breakfast, she scanned headlines. One caught her eye: Spanish monk slain, body dumped at the doors of the Mission de Alcala.
Kate frowned. The priest, Father Tomas De Cardina, was visiting from a remote monastery in Spain. The police didn’t have a motive for the killing, and they hadn’t yet released the cause of death.
What kind of person would murder a monk?Kate sipped her coffee and considered what would drive a person to then treat the monk’s body with such disrespect.
48 LISA KESSLER
Shaking her head, she finished her toast and set her laptop aside.
The last thing she wanted to read about was bad news. She grabbed her Macy’s bags and poked through her wardrobe purchases.
Before her appointment at The Fish Market, she had lunch plans at Horton Plaza with Edie, so she headed upstairs to clean up and get ready to go. Kate looked forward to spending a little more time with Edie. Being back with her friends again definitely helped lift her spirits. Except when they hovered and lectured. She hoped
Calisto frowned at the unexpected answer. “Why would I make Night Walker 45
another?”
Father Tomas kept silent, staring at the crucifix in Calisto’s hand.
Again Calisto attempted to reach the monk’s mind, only to find the same repeated chant shielding the monk’s true thoughts.
He grabbed Tomas’ robe and yanked him closer. “Answer me!” Frustration burned through Calisto. He felt his eyes glow crimson with rage.
“Santa Maria!” Father Tomas gasped and jammed a knife into Calisto’s abdomen, stabbing up underneath his ribcage.
Calisto’s eyes widened as pain seared through his chest. Blood spilled from the gaping wound, but his body tingled, healing from the inside out. He let go of the monk with one hand and plucked the knife from his torso, wrenching it free from the fanatic’s clutched hand.
Father Tomas struggled like a wild animal in the presence of a predator. Calisto dropped the knife to the floor of the car and clutched the monk with both hands. He drew Father Tomas closer.
His fangs grazed the monk’s skin just below his ear. The priest fought to break away, but Calisto’s grip was inescapable. The more the monk struggled, the stronger his pulse became. The scent of blood combined with fear intoxicated Calisto. His thirst clawed to the surface, threatening to seize control.
“Let me go! In the name of God, let me go!” Calisto’s voice was no more than a cold whisper. “I have no God.
Not anymore.”
He sank his fangs into the monk’s neck and drank. The man’s life flashed through his mind, visions of Spain and the monastery where he trained centuries ago. He lost himself in the images, so modern and yet still the home he remembered.
His lips pulled at the monk’s throat, drawing more blood. But then one of the visions made his heart stutter, an image he never expected, and one that changed everything. Calisto jerked back, but the monk’s eyes were vacant.
“No!”
It was too late. Father Tomas was dead.
Calisto released him, growling in disgust at his lack of control. He 46 LISA KESSLER
was left with more questions than answers.
Kate’s face loomed in Father Tomas’ mind. The Fraternidad knew she lived again.
And they watched her, too.
Night Walker 47
Chapter Five
Kate stretched as sunlight poured through the window into the living room. Heading into the kitchen, she made a cup of coffee and a piece of toast and shook her head in disbelief at the beautiful November day. Back in Reno the days had already cooled as winter moved in, but here in San Diego, she could wear shorts into December. Though the climate here was familiar, she still found it amazing.
She popped open her laptop and glanced over the top local news stories on her homepage. Years ago, her father read the newspaper at this same countertop every morning. The memory brought a smile to her lips.
Settled in with her breakfast, she scanned headlines. One caught her eye: Spanish monk slain, body dumped at the doors of the Mission de Alcala.
Kate frowned. The priest, Father Tomas De Cardina, was visiting from a remote monastery in Spain. The police didn’t have a motive for the killing, and they hadn’t yet released the cause of death.
What kind of person would murder a monk?Kate sipped her coffee and considered what would drive a person to then treat the monk’s body with such disrespect.
48 LISA KESSLER
Shaking her head, she finished her toast and set her laptop aside.
The last thing she wanted to read about was bad news. She grabbed her Macy’s bags and poked through her wardrobe purchases.
Before her appointment at The Fish Market, she had lunch plans at Horton Plaza with Edie, so she headed upstairs to clean up and get ready to go. Kate looked forward to spending a little more time with Edie. Being back with her friends again definitely helped lift her spirits. Except when they hovered and lectured. She hoped
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