Blood Red

They had to leave.

That was it. They had to go home.

Heidi would be upset at cutting her bachelorette weekend short, but Lauren would make it up to her somehow. It was just insane to stay in a place where their neighbor was convinced he was a vampire hunter, Deanna kept sleepwalking and she herself thought she’d seen the darkness come alive.

And where a headless body had been discovered floating in the river…

Lauren stayed awake for at least an hour, staring at the screen, trying to concentrate on the TV, but she didn’t see a thing.

She couldn’t turn off her mind.

She kept remembering how Mark had gone chasing after that shadow and thrown some kind of liquid at it .

And back at the bar Big Jim had thrown beer at the fighters in the alleyway.

Vampires. Mark had insisted there were vampires.

Oh, please.

Mark Davidson was crazy. Gorgeous, but crazy.

She wondered if craziness was contagious, because even Janice had been convinced that she was being watched.

She tried, but she just couldn’t make sense of any of it.

Somehow, somewhere along the line, she fell asleep. And she didn’t wake up until, for the second time in a matter of hours, the sound of a bloodcurdling scream filled the air.

Second Day—Second Corpse

Sean groaned as he stared at the headline. He had known it would be there, and he was afraid it would give rise to a general panic throughout the city.

Bobby entered the office. “You okay, Lieutenant?”

“Oh, yeah. Right as rain.”

Bobby was silent for a minute. “We’ve got every cop on the force—and all up and down the Mississippi—on alert.”

Sean stared at Bobby. “Yeah. Like that’s going to stop this guy.”

Bobby flushed. “Well, what should we do? Should I track down the guy that woman was talking about last night? Mark Davidson?”

Sean sat back. “We need to find him. But I don’t want him arrested and brought here. I’ll deal with him, all right? If I need help, I’ll let you know.”

“Yes, sir.” Bobby hesitated. “I’ve warned people, but I don’t know how much good that will do.” He walked to the door and looked back over his shoulder as he spoke.

“Good.” Sean rose. “I’m going to hit the streets, ask some questions. I want you to call the hospitals. You know what we’re looking for. Also, get someone to check out the missing persons bulletins. And I need to know about any reports of people acting crazy.”

Bobby stared at him.

“What?” Sean said sharply.

Bobby shrugged. “Hey, this is New Orleans. People here pride themselves on acting crazy.”

“Bobby, check the reports.”

“I can’t wake her up!” Heidi said, wide-eyed with alarm as she stared at Lauren over Deanna’s prone body. “Look at her! She’s not just pale, she’s gray. She’s really sick, Lauren. And she won’t open her eyes.”

Lauren strode straight to the phone and dialed 911. Then she sat down next to Deanna and tried to find a pulse.

Nothing at her wrists!

Then, at her throat, at last…

“She’s alive,” she breathed in relief.

Almost as she spoke, she heard the sound of a siren.

The next few minutes were a blur, as EMTs came rushing in, and she and Heidi tried to answer all their questions. The techs worked over Deanna, one of them in constant contact with an ER doctor through the entire process..

Lauren and Heidi scrambled into the bathroom quickly, one after the other, to get dressed, and Lauren found Deanna’s purse, then made sure her ID and insurance information were there. The EMTs said one of them could ride with Deanna; the other would have to find her own way to the hospital.

With Deanna strapped to the gurney, they were just heading out when Helen and Janice came into the courtyard, already dressed for the day, to see what was going on. They had a car and were quick to offer a ride, along with their concern.

Lauren sent Heidi with Deanna and let the other women drive her over, thanking them profusely. At the hospital, as she exited the car, she paused.

“Please, you two be careful, okay?”

“Of course. Trust me, we’re plenty street-wise,” Helen assured her.

But Janice frowned. Something wasn’t quite right, and Lauren could tell that she felt it.

Just like she did herself.

“Keep us posted,” Helen told her, and Lauren promised that she would.

Lauren walked into the emergency room to find Heidi sitting in the waiting room.

“They’re working on Deanna right now,” Heidi said.

“Any word?” Lauren asked.

“They’re transfusing her. She’s dangerously anemic, that’s what I’ve been told so far. This is so scary, Lauren. Maybe this is why she’s been sleepwalking.” Heidi shivered. “She would have died if we hadn’t gotten her here when we did.”

Lauren saw the sheer exhaustion and terror on Heidi’s face and gave her a fierce hug. “She didn’t die. She’s here.”

“It’s my fault. I just know it is,” Heidi said, and Lauren could tell that she meant what she said, but she was also perplexed as to just how it was her fault.

Lauren couldn’t let her carry the guilt.

“If she’s sick, there’s no way it’s your fault. And think about it. If you hadn’t been with her and noticed that she’d passed out, she really might have died. We were there to get her straight to the hospital,” Lauren said.

Heidi nodded, but she still didn’t look entirely convinced.

“It’s all right,” Lauren promised.

And it was. Or at least it would be, because as soon as Deanna was strong enough to travel, Lauren was going to get her the hell out of here.

She just hoped they weren’t followed.

She chided herself for the thought and told herself not to be ridiculous. It was all Mark Davidson’s fault for trying to convince her that they were being stalked by something evil.

By vampires.

Bull!

“Hey…there’s that guy,” Heidi said.

“What guy?”

“The one who came in to watch the band last night. Didn’t you say he’s a cop?”

Lauren swung around. It was the cop. Sean Canady. He was at the triage station, asking questions.

As she stared at him, he turned, his eyes fosusing straight on her.

He came toward her. “Miss Crow?”

“Yes, hello, Lieutenant. This is my friend, Heidi Weiss.”

He nodded gravely to Lauren. “I hear your other friend is very ill.”

“Yes.”

He smiled gently at Heidi. “I’m sure they’ll let you sit with her for a bit, if you ask.” His voice didn’t sound quite so gentle when he spoke to Lauren again. “I’d like to ask you a few questions, Miss Crow.”

Was he suspicious of her?

Heidi frowned, but said, “Okay. I’ll go in with Deanna.”

The lieutenant took Heidi’s seat once she had left.

“You followed us home last night. I can’t imagine what else you might have to ask me,” Lauren said.

He smiled and shrugged. “Sorry. I thought you’d appreciate the escort.”

Lauren looked away to collect her thoughts. A man sitting across from them had a bloody bandage around his jaw. He stared at Lauren, unnerving her. Nurses were hovering over a little girl who had gotten her finger slammed in a car door. People here were sick, hurt, but the ER itself was busy and bright.

It made her memories of last night and the living shadows seem unreal.

“I want you to tell me more about the man who was involved in that bar fight,” Canady said to her.

She turned and looked at him again.

“He’s crazy,” she said.

“Oh? Why?”

“He believes in vampires.”

She waited for him to react, to shake his head in derision, to make a derogatory comment.

“Did you hear me? The man is nuts. I don’t think he’s dangerous, and he can be quite charming, but…he’s crazy.”

Canady still didn’t say a word.

“Lieutenant?”

“I see you’re still wearing your cross,” he said.

Her hand flew to her throat. She’d forgotten all about it.

“It’s not my cross,” she said.

“Well, you should keep it on anyway,” he said solemnly. “It’s very nice. And you won’t lose it that way, will you? So do you know anything about the other guy? Jonas?”

She shook her head. “No. Only that Deanna talked to him a few times.” She stared at him, once again feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

“What on earth is going on here?” she demanded.

“I intend to find out,” he told her. “Listen, I’m not sure you’re safe where you’re staying, and I don’t have the manpower to look after you there.”

“Why are you so worried about us?” she asked.

He was silent, looking across the room for a minute. Then he replied slowly. “I’ve been a cop a long time. It’s just a hunch, but I think you three have been targeted by…well, by some lunatic, for lack of a better word. I know a place that’s well protected.” He shrugged and grinned. “One of my officers is there all the time. He’s dating the manager. The owner is out of the country. I think you and your friend Heidi would be better off if you moved over there It’s called Montresse House. It’s right on Bourbon.” He rose. “I’ll have a man here watching your friend’s room to make sure she’s safe.”

“I don’t even know if they’re admitting her yet,” Lauren said.

“They’ll be admitting her,” Canady said softly.

A lump of fear rose to Lauren’s throat.

“She can’t be that bad. I need to take her home,” she said.

“She has to get better first,” he said. “Meanwhile, you two move over to Montresse House. And rest assured. I intend to get to the bottom of what’s happening.”

He handed her a business card, and Lauren took it from him without looking. He gave her a smile of reassurance and headed for the door.

She stared after him for a moment, then looked across the room. The man with the bloody jaw was gone.

By his empty chair, she saw the day’s paper.

And the headline.

Second Day—Second Corpse

She froze, flesh, blood and bones.

She closed her eyes, opened them, stared at the business card in her hand.

It was the same as the card Big Jim had given Deanna the night before.

7

M ark opened his eyes and groaned.

He’d been close. So damn close.

But he hadn’t expected the trap, and that had been a serious—nearly fatal—mistake on his part. But when Deanna had screamed, he had known why. Pursuit had seemed the only possible option, even though he was working alone and had known Stephan had come with an army.

What Stephan’s army didn’t know was that their great leader didn’t give a damn about any one of them; they were there to be sacrificed, and that was that. The more fools Stephan gathered around himself, the more fools he had to sacrifice along the way, security against his own capture or death.

It was actually a miracle, Mark thought, that he had managed to make it back.

He rolled, got out of bed and walked to the bathroom, where he stared at his face in the mirror.

He should have looked a hell of a lot worse. But he’d never given up his weapons. No matter how many hits he had taken after being led straight into an ambush, he’d kept hold of his weapons, weapons his opponents hadn’t been prepared for.

Stephan had known, of course.

But his minions had no idea that Stephan knew his enemy, and so they had died for him.

Mark looked at his face in the mirror again, damning himself. There was no room for mistakes.

He had to get it together.

A shower would help.

It did. Half an hour later, he was showered, shaved and dressed, and he didn’t look nearly as bad as he had. He was pulling a comb through his hair when there was a knock at his door.

He opened it to find Helen, from cottage three, standing there.

“Mark, you are here,” she said breathlessly.

“Yes, what’s wrong?” he asked her.

“I just thought you should know, one of the girls from next door was taken to the hospital this morning.”

“Deanna?” he said, feeling his heart slam inside his chest.

She frowned. “Yes, how did you know?”

“I knew she’d been feeling a little off, that’s all,” he lied.

“Oh,” Helen said, moving on to other things. “Heidi rode in the ambulance with her, and Janice and I dropped Lauren off at the emergency room. It’s been a while…. I knocked earlier, but you didn’t hear me.”

“I sleep pretty soundly,” he told her. “But thanks for everything. I appreciate the information.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiled. “Oh, and your newspaper.” She handed him the daily paper, which was delivered to each door every morning.

He saw the headline.

Second Day—Second Corpse

He thanked her again, then, after closing the door, threw the newspaper across the room. A few minutes later, he stepped outside, desperate to reach the hospital as quickly as possible.

Mistake number two.

He never saw it coming; he was too concerned about Deanna and the report of the second corpse.

And his attacker was prepared.

Whatever hit him, it was like a ton of bricks against his head.

As he crashed to the ground, he thought it must have been the broad side of an axe. A big one. Like a medieval battle axe. Then he passed out and didn’t think about anything at all.

“We’re moving over to this place,” Lauren told Heidi.

“What?” Heidi asked, distracted.

Deanna had been given a room, but she had yet to regain consciousness. She was regaining color, though, and the doctors kept assuring them that she was going to be fine, but the next twenty-four hours were critical. Her blood levels had been so low that she was close to death, but the transfusions seemed to be turning the tide, and they believed a full and perhaps even speedy recovery was not only possible but likely.

She was in a private room, with a police guard in the hall.

It should have felt safe, Lauren thought, but it didn’t.

“That cop, Lieutenant Canady, said we’d be safer moving to this place,” Lauren explained to Heidi.

“What is it to him, where we stay?” Heidi demanded.

Lauren took a deep breath. “He’s afraid we’ve been targeted,” she explained. “By a lunatic.”

Heidi frowned.

“Maybe a lunatic who thinks he’s a vampire,” Lauren went on.

Heidi stared at her for a long moment in total disbelief, then started laughing. “Lauren, think about what you just said. A vampire? You’ve been reading too many freaky books.”

“Heidi—”

”Deanna lost a lot of blood,” Heidi explained gently. “She’s sick. She must have been sick when we got here, and that caused her sleepwalking. She wasn’t attacked.”

“Heidi, Lieutenant Canady said we should move, and I want to,” Lauren said firmly. “Look, one of the lieutenant’s officers is apparently always at this place, and he considers it really safe. If we are being targeted, we should move. We don’t want to put anyone else—like Janice or Helen—in danger, right?”

Heidi arched a brow, considering Lauren’s words. “All right. Whatever you think. When do we move? I don’t think we should both leave Deanna. Not now.”

Lauren felt the same, but she didn’t want to stay at the hospital all day, either. She decided to go back to Jackson Square later. She was going to find Susan, the fortune-teller, and shake her until she said something that made sense.

She should tell the cops about Susan, she thought grimly. But tell them what? She didn’t want the cops to think that she herself was crazy. There was nothing concrete to tell them. Best to talk to Susan first.

Lauren leaned forward. “All right, for now, you get going. Pack up our things. If you need to take a walk, shake off the hospital for a bit do it, then come back. Okay?”

“I guess,” Heidi said. She looked at the bed where Deanna lay, motionless and still ashen compared to anyone who was up and walking. She rose, and touched her friend’s forehead. “She’s cool,” she murmured. “Warm enough, though,” she added quickly. “This morning, she was like ice.” She looked across the bed at Lauren. “I’m so worried about her,” she said.

“So am I.”

“Was this all my fault somehow?” Heidi asked.

“No. Definitely not,” Lauren assured her. “And she’s going to be fine. That’s what all the doctors have said.”

Heidi stared across the room. “That’s what they said about my dad, too. Right before he died of a second heart attack.” She looked worriedly at Lauren. “I don’t want to leave her right now. You go, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll be as quick as possible,” Lauren assured her.

Heidi offered her a weak smile. “Hey, both of us sitting around here doesn’t make much sense. I’ll get out later. And this way you have to do all the work of packing us up.” She smiled weakly.

“No problem. See you soon.” Lauren smiled back, then left.

Mark came to slowly but didn’t open his eyes. He tried to feel his surroundings first.

He was sitting up. Tied to a chair, wrists bound tightly behind his back.

He was not at a police station.

The temperature was pleasant, thanks to air-conditioning.

There was no noise, but someone was in the room with him; he could feel it. It wasn’t Stephan, though. It wasn’t a vampire at all.

His head was pounding.

He inhaled and exhaled, trying to ease the pain.

“You hit him too hard,” someone whispered. The voice was feminine, soft. Concerned.

“I needed him unconscious.”

He almost jerked up, giving away the fact that he was conscious. He knew the voice. Lieutenant Sean Canady.

He went on listening, trying to ascertain just where he was.

“Sean, you could have killed him.”

“Maggie, quit worrying. This guy is pretty tough.”

“You don’t even know that he’s guilty of anything.”

“I do know that he knows what’s going on around here.”

He listened, trying to determine if there was anyone else in the room. But after several seconds of concentrating on his senses, he was certain no one else was with them.

He checked the ropes at his wrists, flexing imperceptibly, testing their strength.

He definitely wasn’t under arrest. Things might be different in Louisiana, but so far it wasn’t legal for the cops to crack your skull and tether you to a chair at a remote location.

He straightened, opening his eyes.

Canady was in a chair, facing him. A very attractive woman with brilliant eyes and dark auburn hair was standing by his side, her hand resting on his shoulder. Canady was wearing a tailored shirt and light jacket; the woman looked as if she had just returned from the gym.

He stared at Canady for a moment, then looked around.

Attic. They were in an attic. A big attic—they were in a big house. He recognized the architecture; his own home had been built in a similar style. They were out on plantation row somewhere, he decided, and this house was at least two-hundred years old.

He arched a brow slowly at Canady and the woman. “I take it I’m not exactly under arrest,” he said.

“Not officially. Not yet.”

He waited, doing his best to hide his movements as he worked at the rope binding his wrists. Of course, Canady had a gun. Canady, he was certain, just about always carried a gun. Glock? Smith and Wesson? Whatever the cop was packing, his jacket covered it.

Mark, however, was certain that the gun was there.

“Your home?” he inquired.

Canady nodded. He didn’t look particularly angry. He was more wary. And speculative.

“Hello,” the woman said. “I’m Maggie.”

“Maggie…Canady.”

“Yes.”

“I’d thank you for having me in, but…”

“What are you up to here in town,” Canady asked.

Mark lowered his head for a moment, stunned to find a half-smile on his lips. He felt almost as if he had walked into an old Western, and the sheriff was about to tell him to be on his horse, skedaddling, by sunset.

“I went to see you, if you recall,” Mark said.

“To tell me there are vampires in New Orleans,” Canady replied.

“I know who your murderer is. Trust me, if he’s not doing the killing himself, he’s responsible for it,” Mark told him.

His hands were almost free.

“This man, Stephan,” Canady said.

“Yes,” Mark agreed.

“So you’re saying there are real vampires in New Orleans,” Canady said.

“Sean,” Maggie murmured.

“Maggie, let him spell it out.”

Mark shook his head and stared at the two of them. He let out a sigh. “Yes, I’m saying there are real vampires in New Orleans. There’s real danger out there. And I’m not it.”

Mark frowned. Maggie Canady was staring at him as if she believed every word he was saying, even if her husband remained skeptical.

“You’ve got to let me go,” Mark said. “I went to you to warn you.”

“Where were you last night?” Canady asked skeptically.

Mark let out a sigh. “Battling a vampire.” He decided to lay all his cards on the table. “Stephan is here. He’s after Lauren Crow. I’m not sure if it’s because he wants to torment me, or if he has some deep-seated psychological need to find Katie again.”

“Katie?” Canady repeated.

“She was a woman he and I once knew,” Mark said quietly. “I didn’t know anything about vampires then. I would have laughed at the very suggestion—until I went to Kiev with Katie. I met her here in New Orleans, but she was from Kiev, and she wanted to be married in one of the castles there. She had known Stephan…before. I believe he followed her here, and then back to Kiev. He tried to lure her away from me, but she came back.”

“Where is this Katie now?” Sean asked.

“Dead.”

Maggie and her husband exchanged looks.

“I’ve been trailing Stephan since I got here, but I know he’s been close ever since. I ran into Lauren Crow in a bar. I thought I’d seen a ghost, she’s so much like Katie,” he told them.

“Deanna’s the one who was attacked,” Canady said.

Mark frowned, and a new sense of urgency raced through his veins. He was free of the ropes, but he didn’t want to fight if he didn’t have to.

“I’m telling you…” He hesitated, taking in a deep breath, then letting it go. “Vampires exist, and Stephan is one of the most evil of them. Not only that, I believe he has a small army with him. I’ve tangled with a few of them. If you don’t listen to me, if you don’t help me, we’re in for a serious slaughter.”

“Let him go, Sean,” Maggie said softly.

“You believe me?” he asked.

“Of course we believe you. Don’t we, Sean?”

He stared at the woman. It was a miracle.

“You…you’re willing to believe in vampires?”

She tossed back a length of deep auburn hair. “Of course I believe in them. I once was one. And we have several friends who are vampires right now. There are ways to survive with killing and turning innocents….” She sighed. “Sean has convinced your friends to move to Montresse House, by the way. It’s owned by a vampire named Jessica, but she and some of the others have gone overseas to deal with a situation in Africa. Sean, please let him go.” She gently touched her husband’s arm. “We know he’s telling the truth.”

Lauren felt sorry and a little bit guilty checking out of their bed and breakfast, and she didn’t say that they were moving on; she let their hostess think they had simply decided to go home early.

And it was time to go home. Past time. But they couldn’t leave until Deanna could travel.

Packing up their things to move was a pain—both Deanna and Heidi were the type to throw everything everywhere. She actually tried to work on being annoyed; it kept her mind off the strange events happening around her.

When she had everything together, she lugged it all out to the curb and called for a taxi.

The driver, who mostly spoke an unidentifiable foreign language, was definitely not happy that he had to pack his car with so much stuff just so one person could travel a few blocks.

She impatiently promised him a big tip.

The address on the card she had been given went with a house on Bourbon Street, one she had never seen before. There was a lawn, along with a pool in back; there were trees, flowers and a winding path. The gate was wrought iron.

The house itself stood back from the street and resembled a Southern plantation with its handsome porch.

The taxi driver deposited Lauren and her bags on the sidewalk.

When she tried to explain that she needed help getting to the door, he pretended not to understand English at all, just took his money and drove off.

But no sooner had he disappeared than she saw the front door to the house open. A slim woman of about five-foot-three appeared on the porch and hurried down the walkway.

She was followed by a cop. Lauren had seen him before; he was the officer who had been with Lieutenant Canady in the alleyway behind the bar.

He in turn was followed by Big Jim the sax player.

“Hey!” the woman called cheerfully. “I’m Stacey Lacroix. Lauren, right? Sean called about you. Come in. Come in. We’ll grab all this stuff.” She might have been tiny, but she seemed like a small whirlwind of energy. “Oh, and this is Bobby Munro,” she said, introducing the cop.

“We’ve kind of met,” Bobby said with a lopsided smile.

“In the alley,” Lauren said. “Hello, again. I’m Lauren Crow.”

“And this is Big Jim Dixon, best jazz sax player in all fifty states,” Stacey interjected.

“That’s an exaggeration,” Jim Dixon said, taking her hand. “And we’ve kind of met, too.”

“At the bar,” she said. “And I think I saw you playing in a funeral procession the other day,” she said.

“That was me,” he agreed, and easily lifted one of the heaviest bags.

Despite the welcoming tone in Stacey’s voice and the ease of her introductions, she looked around uneasily as she grabbed the canvas tote bag that was Deanna’s carry-on.

So much for it being difficult getting everything up to the house; with the four of them, it would only take one trip.

But before heading up the walk, Lauren found herself pausing, looking around as Stacey had done.

The sky seemed to have taken on an ashen color, and clouds suddenly billowed darkly and menacingly overhead.

Birds suddenly took flight over the house.

“Let’s go in,” Stacey urged.

Lauren sensed a sudden urgency in the air, though it was unspoken. Big Jim was already halfway to the house. She followed quickly.

The place was wonderful. She fell in love with it the minute she stepped inside. She thought that it must be very old, which wasn’t unusual for the area, but it had been meticulously maintained and restored. The bannister was polished and gleaming. Woven rugs lay over the hardwood floors. A grandfather clock chimed as they entered, and a crystal chandelier cast a warm glow over the entry.

“My desk is back there in the hall,” Stacey explained. “I’ll have you sign in after you’ve seen your rooms. The owner is out of the country right now, but I think you’ll be happy with your accommodations. We hadn’t actually planned to have guests right now, but when Sean called…well, I could hardly say no. At least you’ll have lots of room.”

Bobby Munro and Big Jim were already heading up the elegant stairway. Stacey locked the front door and followed. Lauren trailed behind her.

The stairs led to a long hallway that stretched in either direction. “Guest rooms to your left,” Stacey advised, looking back. “There’s a balcony that extends across the back, with a wonderful view of the pool. There’s only one rule here. You don’t ask anyone in, anyone at all—ever—unless you check with me first. It’s Jessica’s rule—she’s the owner—and we all abide by it.”

Stacey was looking back at her with a smile, but there was something strange about the way she spoke. As if it the rule, if broken, could cause dire consequences. Like a carriage turning back into a pumpkin. Or worse.

“It’s a beautiful house,” she said politely.

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?”

Big Jim and Bobby were just emerging from one of the guest rooms. “Don’t know where you want what, exactly,” Big Jim said. “We just put it all in the one room.”

“I understand that there are three of you,” Stacey said, “but one friend is in the hospital and the other—Heidi, is it?—will also need a place tonight. Anyway, this is you, Heidi is right there, and if and when you need a room for your other friend, she’ll be right across the hall.”

“I’m not sure we need quite so much room,” Lauren murmured. The door to the bedroom she’d been assigned was still open, and the room was huge. There was a massive bed, a desk, French doors that led to the balcony, a wardrobe twice her size, and lots of space in between.

Stacey shrugged. “It’s a big house. We make use of it when we can.”

“Downstairs,” Bobby offered, “you’ll find the kitchen toward the back.” He smiled, watching her closely. “I’m here most of the time when I’m not working.” He took Stacey’s hand. “We’re engaged.”

“Congratulations,” Lauren said.

“I live in the caretaker’s cottage out back. I don’t really take care of anything, though, I just live there,” Big Jim said.

“And Bobby is a cop, you know,” Stacey said.

“Yes, I do.”

Were the cops here sane? Lauren wondered.

The ones she had met so far had all seemed to study her as if she weren’t quite right in the head. Then again, at least, they took her reasonably seriously, seriously enough to station an officer outside Deanna’s door at the hospital.

“I really think you’ll love the room,” Stacey said, gesturing for Lauren to step inside. Her pride in the house was evident.

Lauren did love it. It was exquisite, from the polished wood of the nineteenth-century dresser and bed posts, to the cherrywood desk and antique floral pattern on the bedspread. She hesitated, wondering if, no matter how highly Lieutenant Canady thought of the safety of the place, she could afford it. But before she could mention her reserves, Stacey mentioned a price per room per night that was absurdly low.

“How on earth can you afford to do business that way?” Lauren couldn’t help asking.

“Oh, Jessica doesn’t actually make her living running Montresse House,” Stacey explained. “She’s a psychologist, plus she has family money. She closes this place whenever she chooses.”

“Are we the only guests right now?”

“We have another gentleman arriving later,” Stacey said. “If you’re ready, I’ll sign you in downstairs.”

“I have to go to work, but I’m usually here at night,” Bobby said. “Nice to meet you for real.”

“And I should get to the club,” Big Jim said.

“Nice to see you both again,” Lauren told them, as they waved and started down the stairs.

She felt a moment of unease as she watched them go. Did they know too much about her, and were they a little too friendly? And what about that rule? Don’t let anyone in.

Was it weird?

Oh, hell. What could be weirder than everything that was already going on? A gorgeous man had all but abducted her so he could tell her there were vampires in New Orleans. Deanna was in a hospital, receiving transfusions after sleepwalking and maybe being attacked. Tall-dark-and-handsome had disappeared, chasing after a shadow in the darkness, and a police lieutenant had ordered that Deanna’s room be protected.

“I can sign in right now, if you like,” she said to Stacey, shrugging off her worriesome thoughts. “In fact, I need to get moving.”

“Of course,” Stacey said.

It had all started with the fortune-teller, Lauren thought. And as soon as she finished signing in, she was going to find the woman and get a few answers.

Heidi had already been through three magazines. She had studied Modern Bride, reading up on the lastminute traumas that could lead to a problematic wedding, and moved on to People. Then she had looked through Time.

Deanna hadn’t moved. She lay in her bed like Sleeping Beauty, stunning and sound asleep, awaiting her true love’s kiss.

Why didn’t she wake up?

Heidi took a moment to feel sorry for herself. She was with her best friends in a place they all loved, where they should have been having the time of their lives. Barry was at home with his crazy brothers and his friends. Nothing like a group of attorneys when they decided to cut loose. She thought about calling him, then decided that he’d be working now, and she never wanted to be one of those women who had to call a man just for reassurance.

No, they were fine. Deanna was getting the best care possible for…

Whatever this was.

Lauren would be back soon. One day, they would all look back on this experience as something that had brought them closer. And she had certainly never wanted her wedding or her bachelorette getaway to be boring.

She set down her magazine, stood, stretched, then smoothed Deanna’s hair off her forehead. The nurse had been in just a few minutes ago, readjusting the IV, taking Deanna’s vital signs. Everything was as good as it was going to get until her friend actually woke up.

Heidi walked to the door and peeked into the hallway.

A uniformed officer was sitting in a chair, reading the newspaper.

She went back to the chair and sat down. The chair could be converted into a bed. Either she or Lauren would probably stay in it through the night. For now, though, it was just a comfy chair.

“Mind if I turn on the television?” she said aloud. The sound of her own voice spooked her, and it wasn’t as if Deanna cared whether she turned on the television or not.

She found the remote attached to the bed, but she could arrange the cord so she could control the set from her chair. She found a talk show on. She wasn’t particularly fond of talk shows, but she couldn’t find anything she actively wanted to see.

She closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair. As the voices droned on, she realized that she was actually kind of tired.

Fine. It wasn’t as if she had company. She let herself drift off.

A few minutes later, she had the sensation that she was dreaming of being in a strange place. It was as if a man came on the television and began talking directly to her. A very good looking man. She wasn’t usually swayed by looks or charm, though she recognized them, of course. She was madly in love, but it was still possible for her to recognize when another male was handsome and charming.

But she found that this man had her full attention. She was certain that she was dreaming, but in her dream, she smiled. He was teasing her, flirting with her, and she found herself responding. He had very dark hair, and a very…manly face. And a very hypnotic voice. She wasn’t sure what he was saying, exactly, but she felt flushed. Strange. He had a voice that seemed to…touch her. Excite her.

Arouse her.

How very silly…

It seemed that she was growing warmer. As if she could almost feel the brush of fingers against her inner thighs.

It was just a dream, she thought. She was closing in on her wedding day, and somewhere deep inside she was just having just a few minutes of completely understandable panic.

After all, she was giving up other men forever, hence this erotic dream about a man on the television.

But now he was telling her to get up. To go to the window and let him in.

Of course, she wasn’t really doing it. Seriously, what man came to a hospital window? And how could she really be up and opening it, letting him in…?

Letting him do things to her.

Sexual things…

While Deanna lay comatose on the bed.

8

L auren signed the registration cards for the inn and left feeling filled with energy, determined to find the fortune-teller at Jackson Square.

But she realized, after walking around the square several times, that apparently many of the people who worked the area didn’t show up until later, probably not until dusk, at least.

More upsettingly, she had the feeling she was being followed, even though it was broad daylight. The sun was strong, the air warm, and there was a slight breeze off the river. The world seemed calm, normal.

But it wasn’t.

She returned to the hospital, thinking that Heidi was probably ready to wring her neck.

But Heidi wasn’t irate in the least.

She was sleeping in the chair by the bed when Lauren arrived. She didn’t wake up until Lauren touched her, and then she flushed and stretched, and seemed disoriented.

“Hey, how’s she doing? Has anyone said anything?”

Heidi seemed a little flustered when she replied. “Um…yes, actually. The last nurse who came in here said that her vital signs are strong and that she’s doing well. She hasn’t come to yet, but she seems to be resting comfortably and I guess the doctors are pleased with her progress.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be gone so long.”

“Were you gone long?” Heidi asked.

“Yes. But the new place is gorgeous.”

“So was the old place,” Heidi pointed out.

“You’ll love Montresse House. I promise,” Lauren assured her.

Heidi shrugged. “It’s what you wanted.”

“Thanks for humoring me.”

“Some slave you are.”

“Sorry.”

Heidi frowned for a moment. “There’s still a cop in the hall, right?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Think we could go to lunch together? We missed breakfast, and I’m starving.”

Lauren hesitated. It was broad daylight, she reminded herself. Deanna was in a hospital, with a cop right outside her door. “Want to grab something in the hospital cafeteria?”

“Not really, but okay.”

In the hallway, Lauren saw that the officer on duty was about fifty and appeared to be of French or Hispanic descent. He had a trustworthy face, a little haggard, but gentle and reassuring. When she told him they were going to grab a bite to eat together, he said, “Good idea. I’ll sit inside with your friend. You take your time.”

Lauren thanked him, noticing a heavy gold chain around his neck. “Crucifix?” she asked.

“Uh—yeah, actually.” He drew it out from beneath his collar. “A gift from my missus. I always wear it. I like yours, too.”

“So you are wearing Mark’s cross,” Heidi teased.

Lauren offered her a vague smile and thanked the officer.

In the cafeteria, they discovered that the hospital offered a pretty decent salad bar. They filled their plates, then sat down at a table.

“I really am sorry that your party has gone south. Mostly, I’m worried about Deanna, though,” Lauren said.

“Oh, don’t worry. I think that not being able to party hearty has been a good thing. I’ve had time to think about what I’m doing,” Heidi said lightly.

“What do you mean?” Lauren asked.

Heidi shrugged. “I’ve been rethinking the entire marriage thing,” she said.

Lauren, with a small wedge of lettuce halfway to her lips, froze. “What?” she said in astonishment.

“Marriage. I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“Heidi, your wedding is two weeks away.”

“I know.” Heidi, unconcerned, adjusted her napkin on her lap.

“Heidi, you love Barry.”

“Well, of course, I love him.”

“Then…?”

“I’ve just been thinking. I’m not sure I’m ready.”

“But you were so certain.”

“There you go. Things change.”

“Have you talked to him? Did you two get into an argument or something?” Lauren asked, perplexed.

“No, I wouldn’t dream of fighting with him over the phone, and anyway, we don’t have fights. Disagreements now and then, but no big fights.”

“Have you talked to him at all?”

“Not since yesterday.”

“Then what…?”

”I’m just not sure I’m really ready for marriage.” She flushed, staring at Lauren. “If you must know, it’s occurred to me that I’m not entirely positive I’m ready for a sexually monogamous life.”

Lauren just stared at her blankly. “Uh…well….”

“We don’t need to discuss it,” Heidi snapped.

“Okay.”

Heidi set her fork down. “I’m not really hungry after all. Since you’re here now, I think I’ll head out. I’ll go and make sure that we didn’t leave anything at the old place and check out the new one. Okay?”

Heidi wasn’t really asking; she was leaving. That was that.

“Okay.”

Lauren wasn’t sure that Heidi even heard her. She was already walking out.

Lauren discovered that she wasn’t hungry herself and felt a sudden urge to get back to Deanna as quickly as possible.

She rushed back upstairs.

The friendly officer was still in the room. He blushed when she caught him reading Heidi’s bridal magazine.

“Some really pretty pictures in there,” he said. “My wife and I eloped to Vegas. Sometimes I think I cheated her out of a real wedding.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Twenty-six years.”

“I guess she was happy with what she got, then,” Lauren assured him.

He smiled. A happy man. Feeling that maybe the world would be all right, Lauren took a seat at the foot of Deanna’s bed.

The officer remained with her, and she never even noticed herself dozing off, but. the next she knew, he was nudging her and telling her that the shift was changing.

She woke, blinked and realized it was twilight.

Lauren wasn’t sure if she would really have left Heidi alone at the hospital all night in her determination to find the fortune teller, but luckily she didn’t have to worry about it, because Heidi reappeared in time

Lauren‘s head was still reeling.

Deanna was holding her own, but Heidi’s behavior was beyond peculiar. She had returned to the hospital in a very pleasant if somewhat…fey mood. Not a word Lauren usually used, but it was one that seemed to describe the way Heidi was acting. She had mentioned avoiding several calls from Barry, and said blithely that Deanna was going to be just fine and she would be happy as a little lark to stay with her and watch television or read for the evening. When Lauren promised that she would return as soon as she could, Heidi told her not to worry.

Lauren couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy about leaving Heidi in charge, so to speak, then told herself that she was being ridiculous. There was a cop on constant duty at the door, and he was certainly capable of protecting both women if there should be any need.

After leaving the hospital, Lauren found the nicest taxi driver in the world and asked him to take her to Montresse House, because she’d decided to pick up a light jacket before hitting Jackson Square. The driver was a native of the area and sympathized with her for having a friend being in the hospital. Healso believed in the occult and told her that she should buy herself some serious mojo to protest against evil.

She thanked him while privately thinking there was no need to get carried away.

Unfortunately, as nice as he was, he wasn’t able to get her all the way to Montresse House or even to Bourbon Street. There had been an accident, and the streets were blocked off. He apologized profusely but suggested she get out a few blocks away and walk.

Lauren did, though she wasn’t sure exactly where she was. There were people around, and there were lights, and she wasn’t particularly worried. As she walked, she kept going over everything they’d done since arriving in the city.

A chill seemed to wrap itself around her suddenly, and she stopped walking. Frowning, she paused, looking around. The street was lined with old residences, with only a few storefronts here and there, and most of them were cafes that only served by day. Magnificent houses sat behind high walls, with bushes lining the sidewalk for added privacy,, and it seemed they had all begun to rustle.

She quickened her pace.

Then she stopped.

Someone had stepped out from behind a high brick wall. Someone who was tall and formed a dark silhouette against the night.

She could hear the distant sound of traffic.

Laughter.

Even music.

She stood dead still. A breeze wafted by, strangely cool. She became aware that she was alone on the street. Doors and gates were closed. She wasn’t far from Bourbon Street, but she might as well have been at the end of the world.

The silhouette wasn’t moving, exactly, or at least not in any way she could identify, yet it seemed to be coming closer to her, almost floating just inches above the sidewalk.

Then, suddenly, the dark figure became a man, just a man. Tall, mid-thirties, athletic build, dark. He wore black jeans, a black polo shirt and a casual jacket. His hair seemed to be darker than the night.

And his eyes…

They might have been black, too.

Except there seemed to be some kind of a glowing golden light in them.

She told herself to move, to quicken her pace; to hurry past the man, then realized for the first time she was standing dead still.

And he was smiling as he approached her.

She could hear the blare of a horn from somewhere, but it might as well have come from another world. It was followed by the plaintive sound of a jazz chord.

But it was so far away.

“Hello.”

Her heart seemed shudder as he spoke. She didn’t understand why she wasn’t moving. It was as if her limbs had become paralyzed. She was furious with herself. What the hell was the matter with her?

His voice was deep and smooth. She wondered if that was part of what held her so firmly where she was. But she had been standing still, just waiting, before he had spoken.

She didn’t reply. She just stared at him, and he stared back.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said.

He’d been looking for her?

Ridiculous. She’d never seen him before. Or had she? At that moment, she knew that she had seen him before; she just couldn’t place where or when.

To her amazement, she managed to speak. “I don’t know you,” she said. If she tried really hard, she thought, she could probably move.

“But I know you. And you will remember me in time.”

It was the worst pick-up line she’d ever heard, she thought.

“Excuse me, I have to get going,” she murmured, and moved an arm.

She could move!

But when she managed a step, he was suddenly directly in front of her, even though she hadn’t seen him move. It was as if he had floated there.

She stared into his eyes. They were gold. No, they were dark. No, there was some kind of fire that seemed to glow from within them.

That was it. She really had lost her mind.

“This time,” he said softly, “I have the advantage. I will not lose you again.”

She opened her mouth to speak. She wanted to protest that he couldn’t lose what he didn’t have.

But the fire in his eyes was so bright….

The cross, she thought. The silver cross. If she could just produce it…

No, that would mean that she believed in vampires, and that was ridiculous.

Besides, she couldn’t move her arms again. She was held by the fire in his eyes. She willed her hand to move, pleaded with her body to function….

She found the cross with her fingers and drew it out from under her shirt.

A flash of fury seemed to tear through his eyes.

He opened his mouth.

His teeth weren’t yellowed; they weren’t horrid, rank or dripping with gore.

They weren’t teeth at all.

They were fangs.

She willed herself to back away. Because now he was coming right at her, furious at the sight of the cross. He started to reach out for her, as if he were in pain but planning to endure that pain. He was going to seize her cross and rip it from her neck.

And that was when Mark appeared.

She didn’t know where he had come from; he was just suddenly there.

She felt his arms on her shoulders, felt him shove her out of the way. He was carrying, of all things, a squirt gun.

A child’s squirt gun.

Then he lifted it and shot her attacker.

There was steam, a hiss, accompanied by a roar of fury.

The man with the burning eyes seemed to disappear in darkness and shadow, even as the sound of his voice remained.

And suddenly, there on the street, so near to Bourbon and yet so far, there were suddenly scores of shadows, like moving pools of darkness.

They took on form.

And life.

Mark tossed her something.

Another squirt gun.

She stared at him, still in shock, but somehow, she reflexively caught the toy.

“Don’t let anyone get the cross. Start shooting,” Mark ordered.

Shooting?

With a squirt gun?

They were crowding around her now. So many of them. They were people. They had been shadows, but now they were people.

A girl in a short skirt with a Betty Page haircut and cute freckles. A twenty-something guy in a Grateful Dead T-shirt. A man who looked like a James Bond wanna-be. A woman who was a dead ringer for the mom on Family Ties.

Someone almost pounced on Mark. He struck out with a kick that would have done Jackie Chan proud. Hi attacker went flying back and struck a wall—hard—then just picked himself up and started coming again.

Mark had whirled, and for a moment she thought he was shooting at her with the squirt gun, but he wasn’t. She heard a cry of fury, followed by that awful hissing right behind her. She turned. A black form was turning to a pool of burning dust behind her.

A girl hopped on Mark’s back. He caught her with both hands, throwing her over his shoulder to the sidewalk.

She looked like Pollyanna.

He took dead aim between her eyes with his water pistol. Shot.

She screamed.

The hissing came first.

Then there was a small burst of fire.

And she was ash.

Mark began to spin, a steady spray of water coming from his gun.

Somewhere, there was jazz music.

Somewhere, someone laughed.

A car horn blared.

The hissing continued, punctuated by screams of fury.

“Shoot!” Mark thundered. “Turn and shoot.”

She spun around. A man who looked like a long lost cavalier was almost on top of her. He looked so much like pictures of Charles II that shock almost caused her to hesitate.

Her finger twitched.

She pulled the trigger.

Hiss…

The man was just inches from her. He snarled and let out a cry of fury as he dissipated right in front of her, the picture of his open mouth, fangs gleaming, imprinted on her mind.

She thought that she saw fire, gleaming through a skull, as he burst into flame….

She felt something at her back. A man was there, reaching for her throat.

He touched the silver cross and screamed as his finger burned. He stared at her, his face knitting into a hideous mask of fury.

Then she saw fire for an instant, and the mask of fury become a distorted skull. He exploded, and through the soot, she could see Mark, see that he had shot the man..

And then she heard what sounded like the flapping of wings, saw a rising of shadows.

In seconds the street was quiet again. The sounds from Bourbon Street seemed to grow louder. Become real. And near.

She was still standing on the sidewalk.

She was still staring at a man.

But now the man was Mark.

She was shaking, still holding her own water pistol. He bought the good kind, she thought dryly. They held a lot of water. Kids would have a great time playing with them at a pool.

But she wasn’t a kid, and she wasn’t at a pool.

And already she was finding it almost impossible to believe what had just taken place.

“Are you all right?” Mark asked.

Was she all right? What was he, out of his mind?

“Am I all right?” she repeated. “Hell, no!”

He took a breath and offered a rueful smile. “I’m sorry. I meant, are you hurt? Did anything…did he touch you before I got here?”

She swallowed. She was suddenly shaking uncontrollably.

“No.”

He took a careful step toward her.

“I didn’t see what I just saw,” she whispered.

“You did,” he told her.

It was impossible. It had all been so fast. It couldn’t have been real.

She looked at the ground. It looked as if a careless gardener had lost dirt from a wheelbarrow as he had made his way down the street.

He reached out, taking the water pistol from her hand as carefully as if it had been a real gun.

“We should get to Montresse House,” he said gently.

“The house,” she echoed, frowning.

“At least you’re not passing out,” he murmured.

Those words suddenly gave her strength. And the little voice at the back of her mind that had whispered that there must be some veracity in the stories he had been telling her suddenly spoke up loudly.

They existed. Vampires existed.

“Of course I’m not going to pass out!” she snapped. Right. She was shaking so hard that she could barely stand.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“To Montresse House?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Of course,” she said, the light dawning. “You have a room there, too, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Deanna’s been bitten by a vampire, hasn’t she.” It was a statement, not a question. She was still having trouble digesting the fact that vampires were real.

“Yes.”

“Will she live?”

“I hope so.”

She started walking, her movements jerky. She felt as if she had become a puppet, a marionette, and wasn’t really moving of her own volition.

As he walked at her side, it occurred to her that he had come in the nick of time.

That he had saved her life.

They were almost on Bourbon Street by then, and there were people everywhere, talking, laughing.

A drunk passed her, and he was wonderful. He was real. Normal.

“You’ve been following me,” she said accusingly, stopping and turning on him.

“Whenever I’ve been able to,” he said, stopping, too.

She was tempted to hit him. “You were late!”

“I thought you were at the hospital. I came as soon as I got word that you’d left,” he told her.

She wanted him to hold her. She wanted to crawl into his arms. No, she wanted him to be normal, too. She desperately needed to take a step back.

She opened her mouth to speak. There was so much to say, to demand to know. But nothing came out. She didn’t know where to start.

She took a step toward him, then another. She leaned against him. He seemed solid. Strong. His arms came around her, holding her, and she stood there, shaking.

Oh, God, it was so much better here….

She laid a hand on his shirt, feeling the strength of his body was through the fabric. She had wanted to be near him, but she had been afraid.

Even now, she didn’t dare trust him, even if…

Even if he had saved her life.

But she needed the clean, male scent of him, the vital strength of his form….

The sound of his voice.

Oh, God, it would be so easy to…

She pulled away from him and started walking again.

They reached the house on Bourbon Street, and all of a sudden the air seemed to be full of birds. Masses of birds. Or bats.

Or winged shadows.

Mark saw them, too, and his face tensed. But he didn’t appear to be afraid. Instead, he looked angry.

“Open the gate,” he said softly.

She did, and the birds or bats, or shadows, continued to hover overhead. But they didn’t come closer.

She and Mark walked up the pathway to the house. The front door opened before they were even half way there. “Come in, come in, and hurry, please,” Stacey said.

It was evident that she’d already met Mark.

“What happened?” she demanded.

“Stephan made his first real play for Lauren,” Mark explained.

“Oh, my God, where? When?” She looked at Lauren suspiciously. “He didn’t…?”

“No,” Mark told her. “But he’s getting bolder. She was right off Bourbon.”

Stacey let out a sigh. “Was he alone?”

“No. He has an army with him, just as I predicted,” Mark said.

Lauren stared from one of them to the other. They were talking as if the city were under siege, and by an enemy they had fought before.

“A regular infestation,” Stacey muttered. Then she saw the way that Lauren was staring at her and smiled, shrugging her shoulders. “I assume now you understand the rule about not inviting anyone in, anyone at all.”

“Yeah, I understand,” Lauren said. Because she did. They were insane. And she was insane, too, because she was seeing what they saw.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I’m trying so hard to…”

“To believe what’s unbelievable,” Stacey said.

“So you do believe that vampires exist?” Lauren said.

“Of course,” Stacey told her.

“But….”

Stacey shook her head, staring at Lauren. “But why doesn’t the world know? You’ve just seen them—and you still don’t completely believe. And,” she said, and hesitated, looking at Mark, “I think that Mr. Davidson could tell you that there are plenty of vampires out there who are living their lives in as normal a manner as possible, hurting no one. But there are also those who…” Again, she paused. “There are people, regular people, who are psychotic. Cold-blooded killers. It’s no different in the world of the undead.”

“The undead,” Lauren murmured slowly. “In other words, I may already know some vampires, good vampires, and I just don’t realize it.”

“Maybe.” Stacey said. “Many exist without their closest friends knowing the truth.”

“Sure they do,” Lauren said skeptically.

“I know that this is a lot to take in,” Mark said.

“But the important thing is, you’re safe here,” Stacey said. “Big Jim sleeps out in the caretaker’s cottage, Bobby is here a lot of the time, and I’ve been through this myself before. Our only weaknesses can come from within.”

Lauren stared at them. “Lieutenant Canady told us to come here. Are you telling me that a police lieutenant believes in vampires?”

“Yes,” Mark told her.

“His wife used to be one,” Stacey explained matter-of-factly.

“Used to be?” Lauren said.

“No one really understands what happened there, but Maggie was a vampire. For years and years. Then Sean came into her life, they had a major battle with a really vicious enemy, and then…she was human again. It was really great for Maggie, because she desperately wanted to have a family. It’s different with Jessica Fraser, who owns this place. She’s vampire, too. A good one, of course.”

“Of course.”

“That’s why Sean sent you here,” Stacey explained. “We know how to fight evil. We’ve all fought vampires before.”

“The bad ones, of course,” Lauren murmured.

“Of course,” Stacey said, gravely serious.

Could this nightmare be real? Lauren wondered.

When she’d woken up just a few days ago, the world had been spinning on its axis, and, though they’d had their problems, they had all been…

Sane.

But now…

Mark Davidson set a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up into his eyes. Serious eyes, striking eyes, eyes that had practically hypnotized her from the start.

“It will be all right. I don’t intend to stop until I’ve taken Stephan down, and it won’t matter how many servants he has running around, doing his bidding.”

“Right.” She knew she sounded exhausted and disbelieving, and she didn’t care.

“I need a shower,” he said. For the first time she noticed that there was black, sooty, stuff all over his shirt.

She realized that she was covered withg it, as well.

It was death.

Ashes to ashes.

Dust to dust.

She was literally wearing the evil of untold years.

Realization hit her, and suddenly she thought she was going to pass out.

She remembered where she had seen the man who had accosted her on the street before.

She had seen him in the crystal ball.

9

T he shower felt good. Mark made the water as hot as he could, and the steam rose around him, and though he wondered if he would ever again feel that he was clean, really clean, given that he’d been doing this so long, he certainly felt a hell of a better physically.

Maybe, if he ever succeeded in destroying Stephan, he would receive vindication, and in that, surely, there would be a little peace.

Thinking back, he had to admit that it had actually been an amazing day.

It wasn’t often that you found out that a police lieutenant not only believed in what you were saying but actually had experience battling vampires. And then there had been the moments on the sidewalk.

He’d known that Stephan would eventually come after Lauren himself, but he hadn’t known when, where or exactly how. And when he’d stumbled onto Stephan in the act of transforming, he’d thought he had a chance to rid the world of the man—the creature—forever.

But Stephan had no intention of dying. True, Mark had managed to take him by surprise with the holy water, but Stephan was going to be harder to kill than that. And like any cult leader, Stephan had minions ready to die in service to him. Mark knew he was lucky that, so far, those who had been summoned to do battle with him while Stephan disappeared were, for the most part, inexperienced. Old enough to know how to do some hunting, foolish enough to be rash. None of them had been around long—not even the cavalier this afternoon. That guy must have come from some costume party.

But then, that was always the way it was in any war. Send out the expendable forces first.

He gritted his teeth in anger, curious that Stephan had begun to bother keeping his population in check at all. He thought about the poor murdered girls whose decapitated corpses had been tossed into the river. It was possible but unlikely that some of his newer minions were perpetrating the crimes. He had a feeling that Stephan was doing this himself.

Stephan liked to create an aura of fear.

He liked it when the authorities thought they were going after a heinous—but human—madman.

Of course, he hadn’t planned on a man like Sean Canady.

In all honesty, Mark hadn’t imagined encountering such a situation himself. It wasn’t just the cop who knew that vampires existed. There was an alliance of people in New Orleans who knew and made it their business to do something about the dangerous ones. Unfortunately, most of them were out of the country at the moment.

According to Sean’s wife, Maggie, most of the real horrors were occurring in third world countries where people had nothing, no money and no hope, and government coups were constant, where AIDS was prevalent, and there was so much hardship and sadness that the vampires could rule their fiefdoms with little distraction.

But Sean was still here, as were a few others, though Sean hadn’t named them as yet. Mark knew he still had to tread carefully with the other if he wanted to earn his trust. Maggie was more open. She had listened gravely to everything he had to say, then told him a few stories about some of their friends.

It had been an absurd conversation—or would have been, if he weren’t who he was and the situation weren’t so dire.

And now Stephan had shown himself.

Most of all, Lauren finally believed him about the existence of vampires. More, he prayed, he thought she was actually beginning to believe in him.

As he got out of the shower, he decided it was important to get over to the hospital.

As he towel dried his hair, another towel around his hips, he heard a quiet tapping at his door. He hesitated, not quite ready for visitors.

“Yeah?” he said.

“It’s me. Lauren.”

He paused again.

Then he walked to the door and opened it.

Her eyes seemed to be even more brilliantly green than he had remembered. Her hair shimmered with an ever greater touch of fire. She was pale, but she appeared strong and wary.

And she was standing in his doorway.

“May I come in?” she asked.

“Um…sure.” He moved outside, sweeping out a hand.

She walked in and perched at the foot of his bed. If she noticed his state of undress, she gave no sign.

She smelled erotically of shampoo, soap and perfume. She had chosen a plain black knit dress, and it hugged her curves in a way he couldn’t help but notice.

“Did that really—I mean, really, happen?” she inquired.

“Yes,” he said simply.

“It’s impossible,” she murmured, staring at him. He could tell that she wanted him to somehow deny the reality of it.

He strode over to the bed, taking a seat at her side, meeting her eyes but not touching her. “What’s impossible?” he whispered. “There’s all kind of evil in the world. Mostly it comes in human form. Today it came in vampire form, that’s all. Stephan is real, and his little army of would-be assassins is real. I tried to tell you what was going on. And I blame myself for what happened to Deanna. At first I thought you would be the only one in real danger. But he’s getting to you by going through Deanna.”

“Will she get better?”

“There’s definitely hope,” he told her.

She stood and walked restlessly to the balcony doors. She pulled back the drape and looked out at the night.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said. There was a strange and poignant longing in her voice.

“It is,” he agreed.

To his amazement, she let go of the drape and walked straight over to him.

“I should cut to the chase,” she said softly. “There are things I have to do tonight.”

“You mean, you want to go back to the hospital.”

“Yes, that, and…”

She let her voice trail off, her eyes still on his. She was so close that he was practically breathing her in, and it was painful. Because she wasn’t Katie.

She wasn’t Katie at all.

It had been the familiarity that had first drawn him to her, but her deep russet hair was all her own, as were the ever-changing emerald and gold of her eyes. And her seductive smile…that, too, was hers and hers alone.

“Yes?” he asked softly. “And…?”

She slipped her arms around his neck and drew close. Her lips found his, while her body pressed tightly against his flesh. The kind of tight that caused the curves and hollows of their bodies to meet in perfect alignment. He was painfully aware of the fullness of her breasts, could feel the pressure of his instant erection and knew she could feel it, too.

She wasn’t Katie, he reminded himself.

She was Lauren, and she was in shock. As strong as she might be normally, she was vulnerable right now. If he had any decency at all, he would step away and…

Who the hell could be that damned decent?

There was no hesitation in her lips. They molded to his, and her mouth was sweet, with a hint of mint, the sweep of her tongue an inducement and a tease, a hint of sheer enticement.

A voice spoke in his head.

Step away.

But he couldn’t do it. Her fingers played across his chest, and her touch was electrifying. He was locked in a kiss that seemed to grow deeper and more passionate by the moment. Amazed that she had come to him, he cupped her face, needing more of her lips. His fingers threaded through her hair. Silk and velvet, a form of seduction all its own, it fell over his hands.

She stepped away from him then and, meeting his eyes, lifted the hem of her skirt and pulled her dress over her head. Then she stood before him wearing nothing except for strappy high-heeled sandals.

“You go out that way often?” he couldn’t help but ask, his voice husky.

She smiled. “Only here,” she assured him. And she moved back into his arms.

He didn’t have to shed his towel. It managed to disappear on its own.

After that there was nothing between them, nothing at all, and he was touching her completely, savoring the feel of her flesh, trying not to give in to sheer insanity.

He had hungered for her, watched her, been awakened by her, and through it all, he had somehow kept his sanity, kept a clear head….

Until now.

His mouth lifted from hers, nuzzled against her earlobe, caressed the smooth flesh of her throat. She arched against him, fingertips running down his back. Along his spine. Over his buttocks. He felt his muscles flex and tighten.

Dear God.

Her lips pressed against his throat.

Her tongue teased his flesh, traced a searing line along his jugular.

He picked her up and made his way to the bed. They fell on it together, limbs already entwined before they even touched the mattress. His eyes met her, and she smiled slightly; then she sought his lips again, and their kiss that was wet and searing and overpowered every. At last his mouth left her lips and traveled down to her collar bone, where it taunted and explored. He drew his hand up from her thigh to her hip, moved her midriff, then caressed her breast before he laved and teased with his tongue.

As he tasted her, he felt her fingertips, erotic, light, sensual, moving down his spine.

Around to his ribs.

Between them.

To his erection.

He groaned against her flesh, kissed his way along her skin, urgency racing through him. He wanted her right then; he wanted her forever. He wanted this to go on, and he felt he would lose his sanity if it did.

He moved lower.

Lower.

Teasing, tasting, the silken, fiery feel of her flesh creating a searing thunder in his mind, in his blood. She arched against him, whispered in longing and in protest, and moved with a subtle and sinuous grace that aroused his every muscle, every cell. His excitement was raw, carnal, soaring. Somehow he held on to his tenuous control As he teased and caressed her from the rise of her breasts to her abdomen, inner thighs, between. He heard her cries, felt the tremors of release shudder through her body, and felt her fingers dance across his flesh as she strove to drive him to an equal madness.

But he had been maddened from her first whisper.

From the first sight of her.

She moved against him, rising, finding his lips again, her body sliding against his. Their fingers entwined, and then she was on top him, still moving, and her hair was a spill of red twilight and magic, enveloping them both in silk. He moved inside her in a reflex of motion and fury, and then his arms were around her and she was beneath him, and the world was filled with heat and the meshing of their bodies. When he felt her surge and shudder, he felt the explosion of his own climax rip through him like thunder, and he drew her to him again, savoring every shock and tremor that followed. The ragged pulse of his heart and lungs made a strange and staccato music in the night, and the pulse of her heart raged against his own, then eased slowly.

Lying at her side, he breathed in the scent of her, and when he turned, at last, meeting her eyes, her gaze was on him.

She smiled slowly. “I might have been a bit aggressive,” she said, blushing.

“Please…feel free to be aggressive any time,” he offered.

She reached out, moving a damp lock of hair from his forehead. “You are sane,” she murmured.

“Thank you. Not the compliment I might have expected or hoped for at the moment, but thank you.”

Her smiled deepened, but then she sobered, staring into his eyes. “There are vampires.”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any idea how incomprehensible that is to me?”

“Yes.” He nodded, and stroked her cheek. “You’re incredible.”

She trembled slightly, her lashes veiling her eyes. “So are you. Is that the compliment you were looking for?” she asked, meeting his eyes again, a slight teasing note in her voice.

He smiled. “Evening is here,” he said.

She nodded, rising up on one elbow. “I…I have to get to the hospital,” she told him, fingering the cross around her neck. “Will this protect me?”

“To an extent. Stephan has ways of seeing that they’re removed, but…don’t go anywhere without a water pistol.”

She started to laugh, and there were tears in her eyes. He sat up, sweeping his arms around her, holding her very tightly, cradling her.

“Hey,” he murmured awkwardly.

“I’m sorry…it’s just…a water pistol. It’s holy water, right?”

“Yes.”

She pulled away, staring at him. “If…the holy water kills so easily, how is that Stephan is still…not dead?”

He let out a sigh. “So far, the second he’s been injured, he’s managed to disappear before my weapons can do their work. Because he has so many of his lackeys with him, they’ve kept me busy while he makes his escape.” There was so much he still had to explain. And considering everything she’d had to accept so far, she was doing very well. He had to be careful, though, just how much information to impart and how fast.

She needed enough to keep herself safe, but not too much. Information overload could be a very dangerous thing.

“Young vampires are rash, impetuous, and not very powerful. They think they’re invincible, and they’re not. But they are killers, and they kill easily, because most people are unaware of their existence. Because people tend to be trusting. Because vampires can…seduce.”

She frowned. “Deanna kept telling me there were two men. She insisted that Jonas was good and that there was someone else. Someone who was evil.”

“She might have been right.”

“But you said Jonas was a vampire.”

He hesitated. “Yes,” he finally said.

“So he’s evil.”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t understand.”

He lowered his head, wincing. How much could he expect her to believe?

“You know, of course, that terrible things have happened throughout history. The Spanish Inquisition was one of the worst instances of man’s inhumanity to man, but it didn’t make all churchmen evil. Stalin carried out a blood bath, but all Russians weren’t evil. Hitler was a maniac, but that didn’t make all Germans bad. Terrorists kill in the name of Allah, but most Muslims are kind and compassionate and humane, as Mohammed taught.”

She was once again staring at him as if he had lost his mind.

“What the hell are you saying?” she asked.

He lifted his hands. “That there are good vampires.”

“Good vampires?”

He answered very slowly and carefully. “Vampires who want to coexist with humans in peace, who have retained the essence of humanity themselves. The woman who owns this house is actually a very wise…” He paused. “And good vampire.”

She leapt out of bed, staring at him. He’d gone too far. Her eyes accused him of the absolute depths of madness.

“You—you know all this?” she said, her tone skeptical, her eyes enormous. And yet…he almost smiled at his own unconscious response to her. She was naked, staring at him, hair wild and beautiful, and his heart was pounding again. Of course, given what he’d just told her, she was undoubtedly thinking that she would never let him anywhere near her again.

“Lauren, there’s so much…”

“I have to get to the hospital,” she said curtly.

“I’ll take you. I have a car,” he told her.

Her features were tense. But she nodded, grabbing her dress, throwing it over her head. “Ten minutes. I need to shower and change. For the night.”

He wasn’t sure what that meant, but she was gone. He winced, then rose and headed back for the shower himself. He quickly rinsed off and dressed.

At least she was here, at Montresse House. At least she had agreed to let him drive her to the hospital. At least…

He had touched her. Made love to her.

At least now she had an idea of the mortal danger she was facing.

He wanted to think they could have a future.

He didn’t dare.

There were a number of tourists wandering the Square. That was good, Susan thought. It was almost like old times. There was a caricaturist just a few feet away, sketching a young couple who were obviously in love. A young woman in a gypsy skirt and turban had set up on the other side of the artist.

She sat quietly at her own table for a moment, closing her eyes, her hands lying on the tarot card before her. She didn’t turn over the cards; she just closed her eyes and listened.

She could hear the rumble of the mule drawn carriages.

A sax playing to her left.

There was chatter.

Someone who was already a few sheets to the wind stumbled on the sidewalk and was helped by a more sober companion.

She concentrated harder.

Her full name was Susan Beauvais, and her family had been in the area for centuries. One ancestor had fled the bloody revolution that erupted in Haiti in 1791. Over the hundreds of years since, she’d accumulated all sorts different ancestors. Someone had been white. At least one had been an Indian. But it had been her mother, a Creole, who had told her about the magic that went untapped by most people throughout their lives. Reading tarot cards, palms and the crystal ball made for a decent living, but there was so much more a person could learn.

She didn’t always feel comfortable with her power. Sometimes people were better off when they didn’t know what lay ahead.

But there were other times when it was necessary for people to know what they were about to face. And this was such a time.

She’d sensed troubles like these before, but never so strong, so frightening.

She concentrated more fully, and at last it came to her.

A soft sound, a rustling on the wind.

Yes…she could hear it. The flapping of wings.

She looked up at the sky. Bats. There were often bats here. They rested high up in the eaves of the taller buildings.

She removed her hands from her cards, asked the artist to watch her table, then stood and hurried over to the church, looking around nervously as she went.

The great doors remained open, though they would be closed very soon.

Inside, she knelt down in the aisle and pulled the huge cross she always wore from beneath the cotton fabric of her shirt, then she held it tightly as she murmured her prayer.

Though she didn’t look up, she sensed it when someone slid into the pew beside her. She shook her head. “You should not be here.”

“It’s my home,” he said.

“There is a very fine line between good and evil,” she said, turning to looked up at the handsome young man in the pew. “You may get caught in the crossfire.”

“There are very bad times coming,” he said.

Susan bowed her head again. “Yes, I know.”

“I have to be here.”

“I will pray for you,” Susan said.

“You must help,” he said.

“And how can I do that?”

“You see things.”

She turned and stared at him. “It’s not as if there’s a movie playing in my head. I see what comes to me. If I could choose, if I could see see how to fight evil at every turn, there wouldn’t be any evil. But you—you should go elsewhere.”

“I can’t.”

“Many here don’t trust you.”

“I intend to prove myself.”

She stared at him again. “You don’t know what you’re up against—on either side.”

“Then I’ll learn,” he said grimly.

Susan watched him carefully as he rose to leave the church. When he had been gone for several minutes, she rose herself and found the holy water vessel. She dampened her fingers and drew the sign of the cross not just on her forehead, but on her arms, across her chest above her heart, and in several places around her throat.

Belatedly, she noticed that there was a young priest at the back of the church, and he was staring at her in perplexed silence.

“Evening, Father,” she said.

He nodded to her. Tongue-tied, maybe.

As she left, she smiled.

She returned to her table and again put her fingertips on her cards and closed her eyes. She could still hear the sound of wings beneath the laughter, beneath the carriage wheels and the clip-clop of the mules’ hooves.

Should she keep her peace? Or try to contact the young woman? There was much she needed to know.

“I’d love a reading,” someone said.

She looked up.

And her blood turned cold.

It was him.

Heidi seemed annoyed to see Lauren and Mark when they got to the hospital.

Lauren was distressed to see that her friend was no longer wearing her engagement ring. But with Mark in the room, she didn’t want to have a showdown with Heidi. She couldn’t begin to imagine what had possessed her to forget how much she loved Barry. They’d been together since they had left college and moved to California. They’d been living together for two years. They wanted the same things, two children, another Norwegian Elkhound, one cat, and vacations spent hiking through the Redwoods.

“I’m fine here by myself, you know,” Heidi said.

Mark, not really paying attention, had walked over to Deanna’s side. He touched her brow and seemed relieved, then reached into the pocket of his jeans and produced another cross on a chain.

“What are you doing?” Heidi said sharply.

“Just saying a prayer,” Mark replied, carefully slipping the chain around Deanna’s neck and fumbling just a bit with the tiny clasp.

Deanna shifted restlessly in her deep sleep, then settled again.

“She doesn’t want that!” Heidi snapped.

“It’s okay, Heidi,” Lauren told her. “I—I bought it for her,” she lied.

“Well, that was stupid,” Heidi said crossly.

“It won’t hurt anything,” Lauren said, disturbed by the strange way Heidi was acting. “

You should take that thing off her,” Heidi said.

“Why on earth?” Lauren demanded.

Heidi didn’t have an answer at first. “I think her mom is part Jewish,” she said at last.

“Then we’ll get her a star of David, too,” Mark said.

Heidi opened her mouth, apparently puzzled, then closed it again when she couldn’t come up with anything to say.

“I think you need to get out of here for a while,” Lauren said firmly.

“I…I’m needed here,” Heidi said.

“Lauren is here now,” Mark told her.

“Right. I can stay here, and you two can go have a nice meal in the Quarter,” Lauren said.

Mark had never suggested such a thing, but surely he wouldn’t want Heidi roaming around on her own. Not if everything he’d said was true.

Not if winged creatures could suddenly turn into vampires and attack just a few feet away from Bourbon Street.

“Um…sure,” Mark said, offering Heidi his most engaging smile. “I’ll take you out for a bit.”

“I just feel that I should stay here,” Heidi said stubbornly.

Actually, Lauren wished she could go out with Heidi herself, maybe get an idea of what was going on with her.

But would it be safe? Even forewarned and forearmed, with her cross and the somewhat smaller water pistol she’d stashed in her purse, could she really defeat what she could barely believed existed?

“Maybe I should take Heidi out for a bit and you should stay here,” Lauren suggested.

Mark stared at her, just short of scowling.

Okay, bad idea.

He looked at Heidi. His voice was firm, his eyes meeting hers. “Heidi, let me take you to dinner.”

“Okay.”

To Lauren’s amazement, Heidi rose as if she’d never disagreed. As if she thought it was the most natural thing in the world.

Mark set his hands on Lauren’s shoulders. “You stay here. And be careful.”

“This is a hospital. There’s a cop in the hall,” she reminded him.

“Be careful,” he repeated.

“Of course.”

What the hell could possibly happen to her in a hospital room?

“We won’t be long. Come on, Heidi,” Mark said.

Lauren nodded, picking up a magazine and dragging her chair nearer to Deanna’s bed. As soon as the other two left, she touched her friend’s forehead. Her skin seemed to be a normal temperature. She looked good, her breathing sounded even, and when Lauren rested two fingers on her pulse, it was beating regularly.

And still she slept like a princess awaiting her true love’s kiss, Lauren thought whimsically.

She rose for a minute and adjusted the television set. She flicked around between channels, aggravated as she came to one program after another that she didn’t want to see, even shows she usually found entertaining.

Finally, she decided on the Cartoon Network. Spongebob Squarepants fit the bill for the moment.

She was half listening to the TV and flipping through the pages of one of Heidi’s magazines when a nurse came in to check on Deanna. Lauren tensed, suspicious. Great. Was she going to start suspecting everybody now?

The nurse added a new bag to Deanna’s IV and assured Lauren that her friend was doing very well and with luck would come to soon. All the signs were right, and her red-cell count was rising nicely.

Lauren thanked her and tried to settle back and get comfortable once the nurse was gone.. She flipped a page, bored, worried.

What had she done?

Aggressive was actually an understatement when it came to describing her behavior earlier that night. But she couldn’t be sorry. She had forgotten time and place and all the horrors that had so suddenly entered her life. He had made her feel erotic, sensual, beautiful. As if she had known him forever, as if the world was perfectly right and normal. As if….

As if they hadn’t just battled the undead in an alley, as if one of her best friends wasn’t lying there in a coma. He seemed to be everything right in the world, the perfect man, a man with whom she could easily fall in love….

“Lauren.”

She nearly jumped from her chair, then looked over at the bed.

At first it didn’t appear as if Deanna had moved. But then she stretched, as if in discomfort. Her hands fluttered, moved to her throat.

Her eyes remained closed, but her lips moved. She was murmuring something. Lauren went over to her, leaning in close.

“Deanna, I’m here. What is it.”

“The fortune-teller.”

Lauren’s breath caught. “Deanna, I’m here. It’s all right,” she managed at last. “What about the fortune-teller?”

“The fortune-teller,” Deanna repeated.

Lauren took a seat on the bed, holding her friend’s hands, squeezing them with what she hoped felt like reassurance.

“It’s all right. She isn’t anywhere near us,” Lauren said.

“Danger,” Deanna mouthed.

Great.

Lauren looked around. The door to the hall was ajar. She could hear footsteps in the hall, along with volices. She heard the cop directing someone to another room.

There was no danger anywhere near.

“It’s all right,” she soothed. “Deanna, I’m here. It’s all right. We’re safe.”

Suddenly Deanna’s eyes opened wide, and she stared at Lauren. She even attempted a weak smile.

“Deanna?” Lauren said, feeling greatly relieved but still slightly chilled. And wary.

She squeezed her friend’s hands again.

Deanna looked like…Deanna. Lauren was stunned to feel tears stinging her eyes, she was so relieved.

“How are you? How do you feel?” she whispered.

Deanna tried to smile Again, but the attempt failed. “Afraid,” she said softly.

“Because of the fortune-teller?” Lauren asked.

Deanna frowned, as if she had no idea what Lauren was talking about.

“You don’t need to be afraid. I’m here,” Lauren told her.

Deanna looked away for a moment. “No. You don’t understand. He comes to me. He comes for me,” she said.

“No one is coming for you. You’re in the hospital. I’m here. The police have even put a guard in the hallway. You’re safe.”

Deanna shook her head. “No,” she murmured. “He comes in the darkness, in my dreams.”

“I’m here, and I won’t let anyone near you.. I promise.” Lauren paused, weighing her words carefully. “Honestly, I understand. He’s evil and tries to slip into your mind, and you’re afraid that…that he’ll get through to you somehow.”

Deanna stared at her. “You can’t protect me,” she whispered.

“I can,” Lauren promised. “Deanna, there are…others who know about his kind of evil. It’s going to be okay, honestly. I can protect you.” Her heart skipped a beat. Could she?

Yes. She could be strong, very strong. She knew she could. Even if she was afraid. Even if she knew a truth that couldn’t be….

“Deanna, you said something about the fortune-teller.” She hesitated, then asked, “Is she evil?”

Deanna only looked fretful and didn’t seem to hear her.

Lauren felt a flash of anger at that damn fortune-teller. Everything seemed to have started with her. She had to find the woman.

“Deanna, listen to me. Everything is going to be all right.”

Deanna suddenly started and cried out. “No!”

There was sheer terror in her voice.

Lauren looked down at her friend, who was looking fixedly toward the window.

Lauren followed her gaze.

A dark shadow, ebony against gray, seemed to hover outside in the night.

And from it, twin orbs of fire seemed to glow.

Like a pair of eyes….

Straight from hell.

10

M ark tried to reassure himself that Lauren would be all right alone in the hospital with Deanna.

It was amazing. She not only seemed to believe him, she seemed to trust him.

Of course, she didn’t know the full truth. And that weighed heavily on him. But for now, the point was that he had to find Stephan’s lair—and destroy Stephan. Taking Heidi—who was acting like a total airhead right now—out to dinner was not his idea of getting anywhere. But he hadn’t wanted the two women out alone. Not at night.

He decided to take Heidi to the club where Big Jim Dixon played. Sean Canady had assured him that Big Jim was not only savvy but knew exactly how to defend himself and others.

Canady had also assured him that every man watching over Deanna in the hospital was aware of the existence of creatures beyond most people’s awareness. Mark knew had to have some faith in others, though his fury and determination were so great that he was still convinced he was the one who would find and destroy Stephan Delanskiy.

But he needed to help to defend the innocents who might otherwise be slain while he sought his prey. Stephan was powerful. He had survived many attempts to destroy him. He could hypnotize and mesmerize. And he healed quickly. Whatever wounds were inflicted upon him, it seemed he needed only minutes or at most hours to regain his full strength.

Mark nodded to Big Jim when he and Heidi entered the jazz joint. Big Jim nodded in return. It was a good feeling.

“I’m not really hungry,” Heidi said, setting down her menu a few minutes later.

“You need to eat something.”

“I need to be with Deanna,” she countered.

She didn’t seem at all like the same person who had been so sweetly flirtatious earlier, while still extolling the virtues of her fiancé.

“Look, Lauren is with Deanna. We’ll get back soon enough. Lauren will be worried about you if you don’t get some food into you and take a few deep breaths,” Mark told her.

“Fine. I’ll have a hamburger,” she said. And when the waitress appeared a few seconds later, she followed through and ordered one. “I like my meat rare,” she said. “Almost raw. Do you understand? Bleeding. Mooing.”

Mark frowned. She was being demanding and rude, once again totally unlike the woman he had met earlier

He ordered a hamburger for himself, also rare, and politely thanked their waitress after she took his order. Then he leaned back in his chair, staring at Heidi.

“Quit looking at me,” she said irritably.

“He got to you, didn’t he?” Mark inquired in a low tone.

She flushed, shaking her head. She seemed confused. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He leaned toward her. “Yes, you do. Think about it. Think hard. Somehow, he got in. Was it Stephan himself, or someone else?”

Color suffused her cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Was he tall and dark—darker than me? And did he just appear to you? Did you leave the hospital? Or do those windows open? Did you invite him into the hospital room?”

“No!” Heidi protested, and shook her head, but tears were glistening in her eyes. “There was no one there. You’re crazy.”

He reached across the table, moving like lightning, cradling her head with his hand and twisting her chin up so he could get a look at her neck before she could stop him.

It was just as he had feared.

The puncture marks were there. Tiny, almost indiscernible. She hadn’t been drained; she had merely been tainted.

It was a tease. A taunt. Stephan was sending a message loud and clear to tell Mark that he could get to anyone he wanted to.

And that, in the end, he would have Lauren.

Heidi jerked away from him. “Don’t you touch me,” she whispered to him. “Don’t…” She stared at him, then bit her lip.

“It’s not your fault,” he said softly. “Give me your cell phone.”

“It was just a dream!” she told him.

“No, it was real. Give me your cell phone, I have to call Lauren, and I don’t have her cell number.”

Heidi’s eyes seemed to be glued to his. She fumbled in her purse for her phone, never looking away from him.

The waitress came with their hamburgers just as he found Lauren’s number on Heidi’s phone and called.

“That’s not really rare enough,” Heidi said, her attention finally drawn from him.

“They’re just fine,” Mark said firmly. “We’ll take the check, too, please.”

Lauren’s phone rang and rang until her voicemail came on. She must have turned off her phone in the hospital, he thought.

“Forget dinner. We have to go,” Mark said curtly.

“But—”

“Now!”

It was gone. The entire vision was gone in a split second, as if it had never been.

Lauren blinked, staring at the window. There was nothing there. Nothing at all.

Why the hell hadn’t she thought to draw the drapes the moment she had come in? Shadows could play tricks. She must have seen lights coming from somewhere, the shadow of a cloud across the moon. It could have been anything.

“Deanna,” she said, looking back to her friend.

Deanna’s eyes were closed. She was sleeping as if she had never awakened.

“Deanna?” Lauren repeated.

She even shook her friend gently. But Deanna’s eyes didn’t open again.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

Lauren swung around. Stacey Lacroix and Bobby Munro were there. Bobby was out of uniform, and Stacey was carrying a vase of flowers. She frowned as she stared at Lauren.

Lauren rose. “She was awake for a minute. She spoke.”

They both stared at her, their eyes betraying the fact that they believed she had only thought Deanna had opened her eyes because she so badly wanted it to happen.

“Well, good, maybe that means she’ll wake up again soon,” Bobby said with forced cheer.

Stacey gave him a quick glance, then smiled at Lauren, too. Even standing still, she seemed like a whirlwind of energy and competence. “Where’s Mark?” she asked.

“He took Heidi out for some dinner.”

“Well, then, it’s good that we stopped by,” Bobby said.

“Yes.” Where the hell were you a few minutes ago?Lauren wondered. You could have told me if there were really eyes in the night, or if I’m creating horrors in my mind because there just aren’t enough real ones out there.

“Too bad we weren’t a little earlier. You could have gone too,” Stacey told her. “But we’re here now, and we’ve got some time. If you want,. You can take a little walk down the hall, stretch, get yourself a soda or some coffee or something,” she offered.

Lauren hesitated. She trusted these people. Sean Canady, a police lieutenant, had sent her to Montresse House. So if she couldn’t trust Bobby Munro, another policeman, and Stacey Lacroix, the manager of Montresse House—assistant to a good vampire, she reminded herself dryly—who could she trust?

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” she asked. They were talking about a few minutes, she knew. Not the amount of time she intended to take.

But it seemed extraordinarily important that she find the fortune-teller. And she was only going to find her by night.

There are vampires out there, she reminded herself.

But she was aware. And armed. And she would be exceedingly careful.

“I really could use a walk, something to drink. In fact, I think I’ll run down to the cafeteria and grab a snack, if that’s all right,” she said.

“Of course,” Bobby told her, and smiled. He was thin but wiry, all muscle. He had a lopsided smile and seemed like a good guy, and just right for Stacey.

“You go right ahead,” Stacey said. “Bobby and I know the officer on duty in the hall—he’s a great guy. And we’d never leave your friend. You can trust us, you know.”

I have to trust you, she thought.

“Thanks. I’ll be back soon.”

“Take your time,” Bobby said.

She nodded, offered him a weak smile, and tried not to go tearing out of the room.

Luckily, a taxi was available right outside the hospital, and Lauren immediately flagged him over.

The driver had a Southern accent and spoke English perfectly. He assured her that traffic was quiet, and he gave her a card so she could give him a ring if she needed a ride back later.

He made his way through the traffic easily enough and was able to let her off on Decatur Street, right at Jackson Square.

She walked around.

And around.

Back where they had originally met Susan the fortune-teller, Lauren saw that there was an empty table with tarot cards laid out.

No one was there.

There was no tent set up, either. Maybe Susan hadn’t had a chance to replace her crystal ball.

A young artist was seated near the empty table, sketching idly. She had an easel displaying a number of very good caricatures, but when Lauren approached her, she saw that the woman was working on a realistic sketch of a man.

He was a man like any other, except that…he wasn’t. He wore stylish jeans and a casual tailored shirt, but even in the sketch, his eyes were…strange, arresting.

And frightening.

She couldn’t pinpoint it, but the impression was there. Even in a sketch.

“Excuse me,” Lauren said to the artist, who jumped, gasping.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Lauren said.

The girl flipped her sketchbook closed.

“You saw that man tonight?” Lauren asked.

The girl nodded. It seemed she was trying to collect herself. “Would you like a caricature? I’m really good. Just twenty dollars.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t have time, but…” Lauren dug in her purse for a twenty. Once she had been just like this girl, just trying to make enough to get through school. “Here…. When did you see that man?”

The girl looked confused. “I…” She laughed suddenly and admitted, “I don’t know.”

“Think. Please?”

The young woman tried, then shook her head. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”

“Has anything…strange happened here tonight?” Lauren asked.

The girl smiled with real amusement then. “Come on, this is New Orleans.”

“Please. I could really use some help,” Lauren told her.

“I don’t…I don’t know. I’ve kind of been in a fog all night.”

“What about the woman next to you?” Lauren asked.

The artist frowned. “What woman next to me?”

“Over there. That table. It belongs to a fortune-teller named Susan.”

“Oh, of course,”

“Please, have you seen her? Do you know where she is?”

“I saw her go into the church earlier. But it’s closed now, of course.”

“Thank you.”

Lauren walked quickly toward the church, which indeed looked closed. But at the entrance to the alley that ran beside the church, she saw a sign. She walked over to it, frowning, scanning the announcements.

Choir practice

! And it was going on right now.

She hurried to the front door. It was locked. She raced down the alley and found a side door, and managed to slip in. She wasn’t sure where she was, but quickly wandering along the hall brought her to the side of the main altar. In a small chapel off to the far side, someone was indeed leading choir practice. The sound of the hymn they were singing was beautiful.

She looked toward the rear of the church, searching the pews.

And there was her fortune-teller, just sitting there, staring at the altar.

Lauren made her way down the aisle, then hurried in to take a seat beside Susan.

“What have you done to us?” she demanded in a heated whisper.

Susan turned to her. “This is a house of God. You will not bring venom in here.”

“What have you done?” Lauren repeated.

“Me? You have brought danger and a curse on me, young woman. You shouldn’t have come here. And you should have left when I told you to go.”

Lauren inhaled, wondering just how absurd she was going to sound. “I know there are vampires here. But it isn’t my fault. You knew it, and you didn’t warn us.”

“I told you to leave,” Susan said softly. “But you and your friends refused to believe. You think you are safe in your ignorance, but I will suffer for your stubborness and arrogance. You bring danger to me just by being here.”

“Susan, my friend is in a coma. But she came out of it for two minutes and mentioned you. What do you know? Why did she talk about you?”

Susan turned on her, her eyes narrowed. “Perhaps because she realized that you had all put me in danger. I am afraid to work. How will I live? I have become a target. Because of you.”

“What are you talking about?”

Susan stared at her. Her face seemed impassive, but her voice was harsh. “Stephan. Stephan Delanskiy.”

Lauren was so taken by surprise that she just stared.

Maybe this was all an elaborate ruse. Susan was in on it with Mark. And apparently the cops were in on it, too.

If she hadn’t seen the wings in the sky, the shadows that took form and came after her, fangs bared…

Susan looked toward the altar again. “There will always be evil. There will always be those who combat it. There will always be those, like me, who see it, sense it, are touched by it…but do not have the power to best it.” She stared at Lauren again, though she seemed to be talking to herself. “Evil has come before, and it will come again. Such is the way of the world.” Her eyes cleared and met Lauren’s. “But you have ruined me.”

“You’re the one who had the crystal ball!”

“And through it, he saw you.”

“But he was here already,” Lauren argued angrily, afraid.

“Yes. But now he will stay. Until he has you.”

“This is ridiculous,” Lauren said harshly.

“Is it? Is it ridiculous when a mother wakes in the night and knows that her child has died? Is it ridiculous when a husband suddenly knows his wife is in danger, when a twin knows her other half needs help? Right now you need help.”

“I have help,” Lauren whispered.

Susan ignored her and went on. “Forget what you think of as real, what you see as sanity. Forget it all—if you want to live. I am alive now only because I know that what we don’t see is real, that what we don’t admit can be true. If you want to survive, realize that for your friends, and for yourself.”

“I’m not your enemy,” Lauren protested. “You brought this down on me. You and your crystal ball.”

“He would have found you,” Susan said. “The crystal only let you know he had done so. You should have run while you had the chance.” She shrugged. “He might have followed you, but the danger would have been gone from my life.”

Lauren felt oddly as if she had been slapped, the woman spoke so coldly, with such a dismissive determination. But then Susan turned back to her. “You have help, you say? Take that help and cherish it. You cannot win on your own. Even an army could not help you win if that army did not see and believe. For your friends? Keep them safe if you can.” She stood up, clearly anxious to get away. She pulled a folded paper from one pocket of her long skirt and thrust it toward Lauren. “I do not know everything, but I research what clues come my way. Read that.. It’s a copy of a newspaper article, and it may help you. But don’t read it now. Get away from here. Go back to those who will help you. If you care anything for others, keep away from me. And when you leave here, bathe yourself in holy water.”

Susan hurried up the aisle.

Lauren rose, more confused than ever. “Susan, wait!”

But Susan was gone.

Lauren hurried from the pew herself. In the aisle, she genuflected and crossed herself. And she didn’t forget to dab herself liberally with holy water before she made her way back to the side aisle and out into the alley.

It was quiet.

Dark.

Shadowed.

Surely there were people nearby, she told herself. It was early, especially by New Orleans standards. Carriages would be clip-clopping late into the night and musicians playing on street corners.

But the narrow alley seemed ancient, shrouded in a strange sense of decaying elegance. There was a breeze, and it whispered in a strangely cool tongue.

She heard something in the air.

Like a flock of birds overhead.

Or bats.

She looked up into the darkness of the sky.

Once upon a time she would have thought only that the night was merely alive with creatures who rested in the eaves by day and hunted by night.

But now she knew better. Now she knew…

That she was their prey.

Bobby Munro was in the lobby when Mark and Heidi returned to the hospital. He looked distraught. Downright ill.

“What’s wrong?” Mark asked anxiously.

“Lauren’s missing. She’s not in the hospital. I’ve looked everywhere,” Bobby told him.

Tension tightened Mark’s muscles, and he clenched his jaw tightly, fighting against fury and fear. “I’ll look for her. You need to get back to Deanna. Heidi, go with Bobby.”

Heidi looked at him, a slow smile curving her lips as she rolled a strand of blond hair around her finger. A look of purely wicked lasciviousness crossed her face.

“He’s coming, you know. He’s coming back. He’s going to kill you.”

“Do something with her, will you?” Mark said to Bobby in frustration. Something was clearly wrong with Heidi, but he had no time to worry about her right now.

“I’ll do my best,” Bobby told him, but Mark had already turned and left the hospital.

He left his car in the lot. It was imperative that he find Lauren immediately, and in the crowded Quarter, he would do better on foot.

Leticia Lockwood finally signed off on her last patient. She bade goodnight to her fellow nurses and headed out to the parking lot. She was probably the last person on her shift to leave, but she didn’t mind. She felt herself blessed to have gotten through nursing school. She loved her work and was happy to do what she could to help others—and get paid for it.

She smiled as she headed for her car. Aunt Judy didn’t know it yet, but they were headed to church tonight. She thought her aunt would be pleased. Thanks to her, Leticia had managed to keep her goal in mind and ignore many a temptation. Like Tyrone Martin, back when they were in high school. Tyrone had been about the best looking guy ever to run down a football field. But he had gotten into drugs. Then shoplifting. And now he was doing six years in the state pen. While others had fallen for him, she had not. She had refused his cocaine, his pot—and his determination to get her into bed, and she was glad of it. He had several illegitimate kids, and their mothers were all on welfare. Aunt Judy’s forceful resolve had made her stick to her books. Her aunt had never threatened her with violence, but Leticia had wanted to please her aunt; so she’d tried hard to do the right things.

But tonight…

She’d promised the new deacon at their Baptist church that she would be there. She was going for the singing. And for Pete Rosman, the man she’d been looking for all her life. And he liked her; she knew it. They were both people who liked to do things. They were proactive and believed that if everybody just put some elbow grease into life, things would be better for everyone.

As she headed for her car, she saw a man. He was bent over by a tree, and he didn’t look well. She frowned, instantly concerned.

“Are you all right?” she called.

He put out a hand and waved weakly at her. She hurried over to him. He was handsome, she decided. Too pale, obviously sick.

She took his hand. “Come on…emergency is right over there. I’ll help you.”

“No, no….” He flashed her an engaging smile. “I’m so sorry, I’m all right. I just need to sit down for a minute. I was out with friends, and I guess I had too much to drink.”

“It’s a familiar story around here,” she murmured.

“You disapprove, I’m sorry. I’m okay. You can…I’ll be all right. I’m going back to my hotel to crash for a while. You’re a nice lady, though. Pretty, too,” he assured her.

She blushed.

“I’ll be all right,” he said. But he was leaning on her heavily. And those eyes of his!

She chastised herself. She was going to help him. And not because he had nice eyes and had paid her a compliment, she assured herself. She was going to help him because he needed help. It would only take her a few minutes out of her way to drop him at his hotel.

“Come on. I’ll give you a ride home.”

“You’re too kind.”

“Come on.”

He held onto her, accepting her aid. She got him over to her car and into the passenger seat. When she sat next to him, ready to put her key in the ignition, he suddenly looked out at the sky and cursed.

She frowned. He was staring toward the Cathedral, so she looked in that direction, too. It looked like there was a swarm of birds overhead.

In fact, even at this distance, it seemed that she could hear their fluttering wings.

“It’s just birds, maybe bats,” she said, intending to reassure him. But in fact he didn’t look nervous. He suddenly looked like a great cat that had realized its prey was trapped nearby.

He looked at her. There was something very odd about him. “Sorry, I’m out of time,” he told her.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, disturbed.

She saw his eyes again and opened her mouth to scream.

Too late.

The bats were coming. Circling overhead, then dipping low, their wings brushing her with just a touch…a terrifying touch.

Yet…

They didn’t settle, didn’t land on her, though she knew it would be a struggle to make it the short distance back to the Square.

Where there would be people. Lots of people. Police cars, maybe even mounted officers. Help.

She judged her distance.

It would be closer to walk back to the church. Sanctuary.

She clung to the wall, sliding back to the door as quickly as she could.

She tried it.

Locked. Now it was locked. She banged at it. But no one came.

She was armed, she reminded herself.

Yeah, right. With a water pistol.

She drew it out of her bag and she took aim at the next winged creature that came her way. She held the child’s toy with both hands.

And she fired.

The thing fell to the ground with a horrible hissing sound, and there was a small explosion, a puff of smoke in the air, and then…

A pile of dust. As she stared at it, she noticed that there was a figure at the back of the alley. Standing there. Watching her.

The other bats hovered above her, so she ignored the m ysterious figure in favor of the immediate danger and began to shoot. She shot and shot, ignoring the shrill hissing and rain of dust, until she suddenly realized that she was going to run out of “ammo.”

She stopped.

The figure in the alley was still watching her.

And then she heard the low sound of chilling laughter.

Mark combed Bourbon Street first, going from bar to bar. He moved as fast as he could, his sense of fear growing greater with every second.

He’d put a call through to Canady, and he knew the cop would be out looking for her, and that he had patrolmen on the hunt, as well. He’d done everything he could conceivably do, but even so, he felt as if he were being torn apart, as if he had failed again.

He didn’t know where the hell she was.

He would find her. By God, he would find her. She was strong. Even in danger, she would be strong. She believed. She knew the truth.

Exiting a bar, he plowed straight into another man.

Jonas.

“You,” he breathed, and reached into his pocket; he couldn’t miss this time.

“Sweet God in Heaven, man, will you just listen to me?” Jonas pleaded.

“I have an entire vial of holy water,” Mark informed him quietly. “And if you make one wrong move, I will destroy you.”

He spoke quietly, because there were people all around them. From inside, he could hear the band playing and a waitress shouting something to the bartender.

As he and Jonas stood there glaring at each other, a woman flashed a smile and asked them to move aside just a smidge—she wanted to get into the club.

Mark caught the younger man’s arm and pulled him out to the street.

“I am not the one you’re looking for!” Jonas said earnestly.

“Where the hell is Lauren?”

“Lauren?” Jonas demanded with a frown. “Deanna’s the one in the hospital Would you just listen to me for a minute? I’m not evil.”

Evil? Maybe not, Mark thought, but he was certainly a vampire.

Mark drew out the vial of holy water. The other man stared straight at him without flinching. “Hit me if you have to, but I’m telling you the truth. I want to help you. I…I care about Deanna. I’ve never met anyone like her. She’s…she’s…” A flicker of fury lit his eyes. “She’s too fine to become the plaything of a vicious bastard like…him.”

“No one here knows you,” Mark told him curtly. “The cops here know that vampires exist—some of them, anyway. But no one knows you.”

Jonas lifted his hand and pulled a chain out from beneath his T-shirt.

He was wearing a cross.

“Could I wear this if I were associated with that monster, Stephan?” he demanded.

Mark arched a brow.

“Look, I am new to the area,” Jonas went on. “I’ve been in New York City for a long time. No one there notices anyone else, there are blood banks up the kazoo…I came here to work the music scene. That’s all. Not to hurt anyone.” He offered a rueful smile. “Hell, there are enough rats around, you know?”

“Make sure you stay out of my way,” Mark warned him.

“I can help you. I want to help you. Look, I haven’t been…what I am now for very long, and I’m not very powerful, but I’d give my…existence to help Deanna. I’ll do anything. Anything.”

“Just stay out of my way,” Mark repeated.

He started walking away, his anxiety for Lauren rising to the surface again. He wasn’t going to kill Jonas—though letting him live might be a serious mistake. But he didn’t have the time right now to figure out the best way to handle the situiation. He had to find Lauren.

“How the hell can I prove myself to you?” Jonas called after him.

Mark kept going without answering.

He moved with long strides, eager to quit Bourbon Street. It felt as if he were screaming on the inside.

He had to find her.

Now.

The figure at the end of the alley continued to stand there, staring.

She stood dead still and stared back.

She was almost out of holy water, and she was trying desperately to remember everything that Mark had said. This was Stephan, she was certain. Mark had said he was very strong. She could hit him with what remained of the holy water, and undoubtedly she would hurt him, but would it be enough? It might only serve to enrage him and make him all the more certain that the time to sink his teeth into her throat was now….

“I am not Katya!” she shouted.

“You are the one I will have,” he said softly in return.

It seemed as if the entire world had gone still. As if time itself had stopped. She was alone in the alley with him, wrapped in darkness and shadows.

“No,” she said softly. “You don’t know what it is to really have anyone. You will never have me. And in your brutality and your cruelty, you will find your own destruction.”

He started walking toward her.

How far would her water pistol shoot?

“Put down that weapon. And take off your cross. Because I will have you. I will have you in the way I want to have you, and that’s all that will matter. When I tire of you, well…maybe you’ll be lucky and that won’t happen.”

She took a step backwards.

He seemed closer than he had been.

As if he had floated.

But now he was walking casually toward her, as if they were old acquaintances, just chatting after a chance meeting on the street.

She sensed, more than felt, a sudden fluttering.

A shadow in the air. Darkness…

Like wings.

Lauren realized that Stephan was frowning.

Then, suddenly, another man materialized in front of her, standing between her and Stephan.

It was Jonas, the young, dark-haired stranger who had so captivated Deanna.

“Leave her alone,” Jonas said.

Stephan paused, then almost immediately started laughing. “And just what are you going to do about it?”

Jonas turned slightly toward Lauren. “Run!” he yelled to her.

She realized that Stephan probably had the power to tear the young man apart. Young man? He was a nothing but creature himself; she had just seen him create substance from shadow.

“Don’t fight him,” she said vehemently.

“Go!” he urged.

Stephan was coming swiftly closer, floating….

He reached Jonas, lifted a hand. It was a casual movement, but his touch sent Jonas flying across the alley, slamming hard against the wall of the church.

Then Stephan was walking toward her again.

And she found she was having difficulty moving. She could see his eyes. They were dark, and they were light. They were blackness, a Stygian pit, and they gleamed with something like fire. She wanted to move, but…

She forced herself to blink, then she aimed the water pistol.

“You won’t shoot,” he said.

But she did.

His hissed grew into a bellow of fury as the spray hit him, but he didn’t stop. Jonas recovered, straightening from where he had slumped to the ground. He raced back, leaping on the older vampire’s back.

“Go, Lauren! Don’t let him into your mind!”

She nodded, backing away. Stephan was already reaching around and plucking Jonas from his back as if he were no more than a pesky mosquito.

“Let him go!” she commanded, firing her water pistol again.

When the spray hit Stephan, he once again roared in fury.

She squeezed the plastic trigger again. Nothing happened.

The gun was empty.

“Go!” Jonas told her.

Stephan said something she couldn’t understand, but it felt as if she was hit by a cold and paralyzing blast of air. Her feet seemed leaden. She opened her mouth to scream as Stephan pounded Jonas to the pavement. Then he kicked him aside like trash and started toward Lauren again with determined strides.

But justbefore he reached her, before his fetid breath could was over her, there was a whirlwind of energy in the street. Suddenly Stephan was hit by an enormous streak of energy and power.

Lauren couldn’t begin to imagine the source, and then she saw that it was a man.

Mark.

He threw himself at Stephan in an attack so violent that he seemed to be the very wrath of God himself. His onslaught caught the vampire off balance. For a second Stephan teetered, and then the two of them became a melee of flying limbs and went down, rolling across the stone pavement of the alleyway together, a black mass of fury and rage.

At that moment the sky came to life again, wings appearing from the darkness, then fading back into it again.

Something swept down toward Lauren, and she heard a shout. Mark’s voice. He was talking to Jonas.

“Get her out of here! Get her the hell out of here!”

Jonas moved like a flash of lightning. She felt his arms around her. “Run! Help me, Lauren, damn it. Run!”

They ran.

Shadows took form in their wake, as if wings and darkness combined to become tremendous hands, reaching out….

They ran….

And ran.

And burst out onto the Square and joined the sea of humanity once again. People were strolling around, talking, laughing. A guitarist played a country song, a respectable imitation of Johnny Cash.

In the light, in the throng, in the music and chatter and life of the square, Lauren stopped running at last. Jonas was still holding her as she turned back and looked down the alley.

All she saw was…

Nothing.

No wings, no shadows. No sign of Stephan.

And no sign, either, of Mark.

11

“W e shouldn’t have left him,” Lauren argued.

They were standing on the edge of the Square. A nearby sign advertised the Pontalbo Museum. A Civil War cannon stood behind a fence, just to her right. If she looked across the green, she could see the statue of Andrew Jackson on horseback.

If she looked around, she could see a world that was normal in every way.

Jonas turned to her, shaking his head sadly. “We had to leave him. Don’t you see? He would have been more vulnerable if you had stayed. He would have had to defend you.”

She looked at him. He looked like a regular guy. And yet she knew he was anything but.

She had just seen him materialize from shadow.

He was a vampire.

She inadvertently took a step back.

He groaned. “I was ready to give my life for you back there,” he said softly. “Why are you afraid of me? You can trust me, you know.”

She frowned, shook her head, and then spoke ruefully. “You do realize I still think I’m insane for believing that vampires exist, don’t you? Trusting a vampire may take a bit of effort.”

“If people only knew how many totally decent vampires actually walk among them,” he began.

“Vampires aren’t exactly known for their good works,” she pointed out, then looked toward the alley again, her concern growing. “Where did they go? How did they disappear so quickly?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. All I do know is that I have to watch out for you until Mark reappears,” he said firmly.

She couldn’t help but look anxiously toward the alley again. “What should we do?” she asked.

“We should go to the hospital,” he said.

She frowned. “You want me to let you into Deanna’s room?”

“I swear to you, I’m not the one who hurt her and I never would. I give you my word.”

“Forgive me, but I’m not sure about trusting the word of a vampire.”

“I was ready to die for you,” he reminded her again, sounding genuinely hurt.

“Maybe that was just a ploy,” she said. “Maybe you’re on Stephan’s side, and you’re just stringing us all along.”

“Look. What he wants is you. That’s pretty evident. And he might have had you, right then and there. I’m pretty sure the only reason he didn’t just swoop right in and take you is that he thrives on the chase.”

“Why not chase us right into the Square? What could these people have done against a host of vampires?”

He shook his head. “If everyone believed—no, knew—that vampires are real, that they exist right here alongside you in what you think of as your safe little world, they’d try exterminat them. Us.. The good and the bad. The good would die first, because they try not to hurt other people. Then you’d be left with the bad. And the bad could turn the tide enough to kill everything. You have to realize that there is an entire underworld out there. Some people sense it. Some even know that it exists. Some people, like Sean Canady, know it and know they need our help in the fight for human safety. If Stephan had carried his battle into the Square, if enough people had seen him and been attacked, the truth would have been revealed and a real war would be on. A blood bath. Creatures like Stephan exist because they prey on what human beings consider to be real fears. If he tires of his victims and decides not to accept them as members of his flock, he decapitates them and discards their bodies. When he came here, he began throwing them in the Mississippi.” He hesitated for a moment. “Once there was an entire hierarchy system, a code of vampire law. A vampire could only create three more of his own kind each century. There was—is—even a…a king if you will. Of course, there were always monsters who broke the law, and their behavior threatened exposure for everyone. They were dealt with by their own, or occasionally by a vampire hunter or a guardian. This king, actually resides here, in New Orleans.”

“Then where the hell is he?” Lauren demanded.

“Out of the country, apparently.” He shook his head. “Look, I came here because of Lucian, the king. He leads an alliance of those who work against evil and believe that they can find redemption and be part of a better world. I swear to you, what I’m saying is the truth.”

It couldn’t be.

It could. Either that, or she was suffering from the most real and ridiculous delusion that had ever plagued a person.

“Please. Let’s go to the hospital and wait there for Mark. I’m sure he’ll come find you. I ran into him earlier, when he was looking for you here in the Quarter.”

“Was he with Heidi? My…our other friend.”

“No. She must be back at the hospital.”

Lauren was afraid. Afraid to trust him and equally afraid not to. It was night. If she got into a taxi with him…

“Shall we get a cab?” he suggested.

She hesitated.

“I swear to God—and I do believe in Him—that I am not going to bite the taxi driver and kidnap you,” he said.

Deanna had told her that there were two. One who was evil. Stephan. And Jonas?

She looked around the Square. Bourbon Street would still be buzzing, but the artists here were closing up. The guitar player was already gone.

“All right,” she said. “But I need to warn you. I’m wearing a cross.”

He smiled. “So am I.”

As they walked to the through street, she asked him, “How is it you can wear a cross?”

He offered her a shy smile. “Because I’m not evil. Because I have no desire to harm anyone.”

“So…the fact that they’re evil makes crosses holy water poison to the others?”

“Of course,” he said. “It makes sense if you think about it.”

They found a taxi, but even as they climberd in, Lauren still felt nervous. She was worried, as well. Worried about Mark.

Worried about Deanna.

She kept her distance in the cab, and Jonas didn’t pressure her, and they reached the hospital without incident. She started to pay, but Jonas insisted on covering it.

When they reached Deanna’s room, Bobby was at the door. “Sweet Jesus, there you are!” he exclaimed, holding her for a minute. Then he drew back. “Where’s Mark?” He looked over her shoulder at Jonas, arching a brow.

“Mark is…otherwise engaged,” she murmured, then introduced the two men before looking past Bobby into the room. Stacey was in a chair near the bed, and Heidi was there, too, sitting as straight as a ramrod, wearing a frown of irritation.

“What’s wrong with Heidi?” she asked quickly.

Bobby looked unhappy. “I guess you never spoke with Mark.”

“No. Not really.” There were too many people in the hallway and beyond who might hear their conversation for her to explain what had happened.

Jonas, ignoring everyone else, walked to Deanna’s bedside. He took her hand and stared at her, and he was either as concerned as he claimed or a fabulous actor, Lauren thought.

“What’s wrong with Heidi?” she repeated, returning her attention to Bobby.

He dropped his voice to a whisper. “She’s been tainted.”

“Tainted?” she asked, but her heart sank. She was pretty sure she knew what that meant without a lengthy explanation. “How?” she asked.

Bobby shrugged unhappily. “Um…well, I guess she let him in.”

“Oh, God. Then…?”

“She isn’t really all that…ill. I think we can deal with it,” Stacey said, rising and walking over to join them. “I just have to get her to Montresse House. She needs to be guarded. Kept safe from…from bringing more harm to herself.”

Stacey fell silent as a nurse walked into the room. She had a sour face and was clearly not pleased to see all of them. “This is a hospital room, not a bar on Bourbon,” she said irritably. “Please keep it to two visitors.”

“We can take care of Heidi if you want to stay here with Deanna,” Bobby said.

Lauren hesitated. That meant she would be left alone with Deanna—and Jonas.

He seemed desperately sincere. Did she dare trust in him?

Did she have a choice?

And anyway, weren’t Bobby and Stacey practically strangers, as well?

Bobby’s cell phone rang as she hesitated. The nurse gave him a disapproving look and started to lecture him on the hospital’s prohibition against cell phones, but he just flashed his badge at her and took the call. When he flicked his phone close, he looked at her authoritatively.

“We’ll be leaving shortly. Lieutenant Canady is on his way in, and we won’t leave until he gets here.”

The nurse looked at him disapprovingly, sniffed and departed.

Bobby looked at Lauren. “Mark is at Sean’s place,” he told her.

He and Stacey sat down to wait, and Heidi continued to sit in silence, as well, staring at the window as if she could see out of it, despite the fact that the curtains were drawn.

There was no way out of the fact that he’d behaved rashly, Mark thought.

Far too rashly.

But what the hell else could he have done, under the circumstances?

At the very least, Lauren was safe. He had to believe that. Had to believe that Jonas could be trusted. The other man had taken quite a blow.

But could it all have been an act?

It was a small point compared to the fact that, once again, Stephan had escaped. The violence of their fight had taken them down several streets, and when Stephan had managed to pull his disappearing act, Mark had found himself staggering onto Bourbon Street, where the cops had found him. He had assumed—correctly—that they would think he was a drunk who had been involved in a barroom brawl.

When they had argued over whether to arrest him or take him to a hospital, he had convinced them to call Sean Canady instead.

Canady had collected him and taken him back to his own home, where, Maggie had patched up his wounds, even though he had assured her that he was going to be all right. He had been worried sick about Lauren, but Canady had quickly gotten hold of Bobby Munro and found out that she and Jonas were safely at the hospital.

When he had started to rise, Canady had stopped him.

“You need to recover. Give yourself time.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to. Or you’ll be worthless.”

That was true.

“Look, I’ll going to the hospital myself,” Sean said. “You stay here and get your strength back.”

“We have a great guest room upstairs,” Maggie told him. “You can lie down and rest now that you’re patched up and you’ve had something to eat.”

They were right. He felt suddenly grateful to have met them.

So he agreed, though he still felt frustrated and useless as he watched Sean leave.

Maggie sat with him while he lay down. “I realized after we met the other day that I’d seen you before,” she told him after a minute.

He looked at her. Studied her and thought about where he was. “Yeah, I guess you have.”

She smiled. “You’re originally from here.”

“Near here,” he agreed. He shook his head. “I don’t get it, though. You were a vampire. And you’re certain that you’re not anymore?”

“Oh, Lord, yes. Sometimes I’m glad, but sometimes…sometimes I wish I could do a few of the things I used to do. But I have Sean, and we have our family. I’ve never heard of this kind of reversal happening with anyone else, but…my case was different.” She rose and walked around the room restlessly. “It was all so long ago, but my father and some of his friends killed the vampire who created me while he was still in the process of turning me. That kept me from actually dying, and I think that somehow made the difference. But Sean and I have good friends who are in mixed marriages. And as Sean told you, Jessica Frasier, who owns Montresse House, is a vampire, and though they aren’t married, her partner is a guardian, as ancient as she is, who’s sort of like an angel of death against evil vampires. It’s a crazy world, huh?”

“What do you think about Jonas?” he asked her.

“You said he fought Stephan,” she reminded him.

“Yes, but…I just worry about leaving Deanna and the others alone with him.”

“Don’t worry. Sean will be at the hospital soon. You’ve got to rest. I’ll leave you alone now, so you can get some sleep.”

She was right. He needed his strength.

He closed his eyes.

When Sean Canady arrived, so clearly the voice of authority, Lauren couldn’t help but be glad he was there.

She felt far more secure. His faith in Bobby and Stacey became hers. She watched while they escorted Heidi from the room, promising to keep an eagle eye on her.

Jonas didn’t move from Deanna’s sid, sticking so close that. there was no way for Lauren to actually get near her. But there was also no way she was leaving her. Not even if Sean Canady was the one sitting guard.

However, the rest of the night passed without incident.

She discovered that she had fallen asleep when the nurse came in at the crack of dawn to change the IV and check on Deanna’s vital signs.

Lauren felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Sean Canady. “Come on. I’m taking you home.”

“I can’t leave her,” she whispered, indicating Jonas.

“Yes you can. Bobby is on duty. He’ll sit right here in the room, and he won’t be alone.”

She looked over Sean’s shoulder, to the very attractive, auburn haired woman standing behind him. She introduced herself as Maggie Canady, Sean’s wife.

“I swear, your friend will be safe,” she vowed.

Lauren was exhausted and knew she really did need to sleep. She might be insane to be so trusting, but if she didn’t accept these people, she might as well lie down and die then and there. They were all she had.

The sun was out as Sean drove her back to Montresse House. Birds were singing. Pretty ones, in beautiful colors.

He let her off at the end of walk.

“Aren’t you coming in?” she asked him.

He shook his head. “Stacey knows you’re here. Look, she’s got the door open already.”

“You have to work?”

He looked away. “I have an autopsy to attend,” he said wearily.

“The second girl who was found in the Mississippi?” she asked.

He paused for a moment, then handed her a newspaper from the back seat. She saw the headline as he spoke.

“Third victim,” he said briefly.

“It’s like…one a night,” she murmured.

Sean shrugged. “Actually, it could be worse. Stephan Delansky is apparently keeping his minions in check and killing just enough to make sure that law officials up and down the Mississippi wind up chasing their tails.”

“He has to be stopped,” Lauren said.

“Yes, he does. But not by you, especially not now. Go get some sleep,” he told her.

She started to exit the car, then paused. “Mark?”

“Mark will be all right. Go on in.”

She obeyed at last. Stacey was waiting for her at the door, and w2hen Lauren entered, Stacey stepped outside, waved to Sean, then looked around—upward. Seemingly satisfied that no one was there, she followed Lauren inside and closed the door.

“Coffee’s on,” she told Lauren. “Except maybe you don’t want coffee. It would just keep you up. But I made waffles, and they’re delicious. Eat, grab a shower, curl up and get some sleep.”

“What about Heidi?” Lauren asked her.

“Heidi’s doing well. I gave her a sedatives, enough to keep her out for a while. She won’t be doing any communicating until she’s had some time to get rid of the…infection.”

Lauren looked around warily. “How do you know that, er…evil can’t get in?”

Stacey laughed. “Take a good look around. See the planters? We water them very carefully—with holy water. And if you if you take a good look at the way the windows are constructed, you’ll see that the beams are crosses. There’s also garlic powder worked into some of the molding. Trust me, we have any number of protective devices here. Of course, you still have to be careful.”

Stacey led the way to the kitchen, reached into the microwave and produced a plate for Lauren. “Sit down. Eat.”

Lauren discovered that she was famished, and the waffles were as delicious as Stacey had promised. “Are we safe by day?”

“Safer,” Stacey said. “Vampires—good and evil—are at their greatest strength at night. And I sincerely doubt Stephan will attack by day. He’s not some idiotic young vampire, out to feed his way through the city. Not that many would be that stupid—this being the home of the Alliance.”

“What?” Lauren said.

“The Alliance.”

Lauren frowned, shaking her head. “So Jonas was telling the truth.”

“That there is an alliance of…shall we say…other worldly beings who make their home here? Yes. Unfortunately, Stephan knew right when to hit this area. Almost everyone’s away. I just hope they’ll return in time.”

“You hope?”

“Don’t be afraid. Mark clearly knows his enemy. And Sean and Maggie—well, no one knows more than they do. It’s really too bad that Jessica’s partner, isn’t here. Guardians are…are ancient and because of that, they’re powerful. Very few…people have survived since the middle ages. Look, it’s all right. Sean’s officers are more than capable of handling vampires. I mean, he doesn’t give classes on fighting vampires, 101, or anything like that. There are just some guys on his squad who naturally…know. It’s not so difficult, really. If you have believe in a higher power, you believe in good. If you believe in good, you have to believe in evil. I’m sorry. I’m getting very complicated here, and you probably just want to get some sleep. Would you like more waffles?”

“What?” Lauren realized she’d been drowsing and had barely heard whatever Stacey was saying.

“Waffles. Would you like more waffles? You’ve cleaned your plate.”

“Oh, no, thank you. They were delicious. I guess…I guess I’ll just peek in on Heidi and then get some sleep myself, if that’s okay?”

“Sure.”

They went upstairs, where Stacey opened one of the bedroom doors. Heidi was soundly sleeping, cradling a stuffed Teddy bear.

“Bobby won it at the fair,” Stacey explained.

“Nice. Thank you,” Lauren told her.

“No prob. Call me if you need me,” Stacey said, heading back downstairs.

First things first. In her own room, Lauren took a long, hot shower after realizing just how…grimy she was. The thought that the specks of soot on to her flesh and in her hair were the remnants of evil beings was not a pleasant one. She scrubbed herself vigorously, then repeated the process.

At last, though, sated from the waffles, clean and warm, she practically crashed down on her bed, images spinning through her mind. Vampires. Shadows. Darkness. Bats. Amorphous shapes that solidified in the night. Terrible things. Evil creatures….

And Mark.

Mark last night.

She curled into the mattress. Mark was all right. Sean Canady had assured her that he was fine. Safe.

At last she slept.

And later…he came to her.

She thought she was dreaming at first. That she heard his voice because she longed to hear it. That he was touching her, his fingers running through her hair, because she wanted to be touched.

“Lauren.”

She realized that he was really there, at her side. Blue eyes deep as midnight, yet brilliant as the day. The contours of his face as rugged and strong as ever, but the look in his eyes so tender.

Then he was kissing her.

Lips moving on hers, coaxing, powerful. His hands sliding over her, cupping her breasts, traveling down to her hips.

She wasn’t dreaming. He was with her.

Making love to her.

And, oh, God, it was good.

She curled into his arms, returned his kisses with searing wet ardor, broke away, kissed and teased and laved his flesh. Somehow the nightgown she had donned after her shower was gone. Somehow his naked flesh was erotically close to her own. She felt the hardness of his arousal against her, the vitality of him, the pressure of his muscles and movement. The drapes were drawn, only a touch of the sun entering, and it seemed he was bathed in gold. It was as if real fire emanated from her when he touched her, that the elements themselves combined to arouse and seduce her.

She had never known such a lover. He had clearly decided to go slow. She had met his first caress so easily, only to discover she was firmly pressed back again and again, that he wanted to stroke each niche and curve of her, the brush of his fingers followed by the pressure and caress of his lips and tongue. He traced a slow pattern on her flesh, making her ache and writhe as he moved from her throat to her collarbone, breasts, midriff, belly, thighs…until he delved intimately between them, driving her to a point of madness, a point of searing climax…and then took her there again.

His lips were forceful, his entire body thrusting in a way that seemed to penetrate her every pore, even her very mind. She thought she might well die as she arched against him, seeking more and more and more of him, or at the very least that she would go mad. But then the sweet delirium of climax burst upon her again, and his flesh against her flesh, their hearts thundering, pulses racing, breathing coming in gasps of wind….

Then dying down.

She didn’t lie quietly at his side, waiting for the wonder to subside. Instead she sat up, staring at him, frowning, worried. “You’re all right?” she asked anxiously.

“I thought I was much more than that, actually,” he teased.

She almost hit him.

“I’m serious. You escaped him, but you were hurt. How in God’s name…?”

“I’m all right,” he said quietly. “Really.”

She hopped up, comfortable with him, heedless of her nudity, anxious to see him clearly and assure herself that he really was completely well.

She turned on the light and went back to his side, then searched him head to toe, anxiously, with her eyes, with her touch.

“You…you’re not even bruised.”

“I’m tough,” he told her. “Worn, rugged and tough,” he added with a soft laugh.

“I was so worried when you didn’t come back.”

He reached up, his eyes on hers as he touched her cheek. “You were worried? So was I. Trusting Jonas wasn’t easy.”

“He took me straight to the Square.”

He nodded, looking down for a moment. “Sean had told me he was pretty sure the guy was decent.”

“Deanna…liked him,” she murmured.

“Yeah, well, I guess he was there at the right time last night,” he said. “Still…I don’t like it. The thing is, though, I have to find Stephan’s hideout. His lair.”

Lauren frowned. “You’re certain that he has…a lair?” she asked slowly.

“Of course.”

“Well, excuse me if I’m asking silly questions, but…accepting that vampires exist is still new to me. So…does he have a coffin somewhere? Native earth and all that?”

He was looking at the ceiling, his expression serious, and he gave no hint that she was asking something bizarre. “It’s not as complicated as you think. He has native earth somewhere. A place where he can go to rest…to heal, if he’s wounded. But he has to have a place large enough for his followers, togo.” He turned and looked at her, suddenly almost angry. “Where the hell did you go last night? Why did you leave the hospital? You know it’s not safe for you to be out alone.”

She was startled by the question. And though she didn’t know why, she didn’t want to tell him the whole truth.

“I…I thought it might be important to find the fortune-teller.”

He frowned. “The woman in your sketch?”

She nodded.

“Did you find her?”

“No.” Why had she lied? She wasn’t sure. Then she knew. Susan had given her that paper, the copy of whatever she had found at the library, and Lauren realized that she wanted to read it herself. To see if it was something that made some kind of sense. Her meeting with the woman had been unnerving.

She felt very guilty about the lie, however, so, without prompting, she began to explain. “I don’t think I ever told you. I…I saw Stephan in her crystal ball. The night we arrived, Heidi and Deanna wanted to have our fortunes told. Susan had a little tent and a crystal ball. And when I looked into it, Stephan appeared.”

His expression grave, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” He was still angry, she realized, but trying to keep his temper leashed.

“I’m sorry—but you didn’t exactly seem sane at first.”

“But since then…” He closed his eyes, shook his head. She could almost hear the grating of his teeth.

He sat up, then rose, reaching for his pants. “So that’s when and how he found you,” he said quietly. “I’ll see if I can find the woman. See what else she may be able to tell us. And you—you have to be extremely careful. No—I mean no—wandering off on your own. Please, Lauren, I’m begging you.”

She nodded, watching him. “He’s killed again, you know. They found a third body in the river.”

He swore, pulling up his jeans. “He has to be found. And stopped,” he said grimly.

“What do I do…what can I do, about Deanna? And Heidi,” she added.

“Stacey will know how to manage Heidi. I imagine she’s already acting a great deal more like herself already.”

“So being seduced, bitten…doesn’t automatically make you become…a vampire?” she asked.

He shook his head. “You become a vampire when the kill is complete,” he said. “Unless you’re staked. Or beheaded.”

“How can there be so many vampires and only three murders? I mean…don’t they need to feed?”

He slipped into his shirt. “They can feed on many things. Rats, small animals…and a good glut can last a very long time. I’m sure, if we checked the surrounding area, we’d find that a few blood banks had been ransacked.” He hesitated. “Stephan is a monster. Cruel, power-hungry, and he thrives on the pain and torment he causes others. But in the end…he wants to live. He wants me to die, because I’m an enemy who has been on his trail for a long, long time. But he wants you first—and he wants me alive to see it. Maybe he believes he can seduce you, that you’ll live a long and happy—and bloodthirsty—unlife together. Maybe he only wants you because he knows he can cut me to the quick again. Maybe it’s both. I can tell you this, though. He’s using Deanna and Heidi to torment you, to get to you. And I have to stop him.”

He went still when he finished speaking.

She frowned. “What is it?”

He groaned. Suddenly, instead of buttoning his shirt he was pulling it off again. The jeans fell to the floor.

And then he was back beside her, eyes meeting hers, fingers caressing her hair.

“I need to go,” he murmured.

She nodded.

“But not yet. Not just yet.”

Nor could she let him go. They were both fevered, hasty, making love with a fierce and desperate passion.

She was falling in love, she thought. With his face.

With his hands.

His touch.

His kiss.

Not just in love with being in love, with making love. No, with a man.

She barely knew him.

She had to believe that she knew enough.

She ceased to think. She soared; she reveled in sensation. Together, they were cataclysmic, explosive. She could not get close enough to him.

Her heart pounded; her breathing rasped; her flesh was slick and wet; and the moment of culmination was shattering and sweet.

In the end, he held her close for a moment and sighed deeply. Then he was up and gone.

And she was left alone with her thoughts, to if what she felt could be real or was only a dream.

A dream…when all else was a nightmare.

12

M ark headed to Jackson Square. He had noticed Susan the woman Lauren had sketched, when he had first come back to the city and had wandered through the Square, seeing what had changed, what had remained the same.

It always amazed him. Take away a few signs, add a few cosmetic details, and the Square was just as it always had been.

There were a few musicians out, a few artists, and one tarot card reader. There was no sign of Susan.

He walked on to the police station, where, with little difficulty, he was ushered in to see Sean. Canady, who was at his desk, bent over some paperwork.

He studied Mark as he came in. “You look refreshed,” he said.

“You got a minute?”

Canady indicated a chair.

“Was there anything unusual about the autopsy?” Mark asked, cutting right to the chase.

“Would you call it unusual to find three headless bodies in the Mississippi in three days? Because I would,” Sean said. “It’s obviously the same killer. You can only see one puncture mark on the latest victim—the other went with the head when it was severed. I don’t know if Stephan is leaving the marks on purpose—to let those who know in on what he’s up to—or if he’s just being careless. Thankfully, the ME says they were all dead prior to the decapitations. The state police have set up a task force extending up and down the river.”

“They having any luck?”

“There’s nothing to go on. No prints, nothing left behind, and the water is doing a number on any evidence that might have been left on the bodies. They brought in a profiler, who believes we’re looking for a man in his mid to late twenties, maybe early thirties, someone with feelings of inadequacy, and a menial day job. May or may not have a wife at home. Everyone is baffled by his ability to decapitate his victims and hide the heads, although it’s likely they’re in the Mississippi, as well—it can be merciless. Everyone agrees it will be a major breakthrough if we can discover where the crimes are taking place. They’re looking for something like an abandoned slaughterhouse, since the victims have been practically bloodless.”

“Did you make any suggestions?” Mark asked him.

“Of course. I suggested we were looking for a vampire.”

Mark arched a brow. “And you’re still employed.”

Sean smiled ruefully. “I’ve spent many years now knowing that what we’re up against doesn’t always fit the normal expectations. Sorting out the crazed human from the crazed in human. Since we’ve had cultist activity here before, sometimes people listen to me. I’ve told them that I’m personally convinced we’re up against a cult, and that they should think as if they were up against real vampires, because that’s what this group thinks they are.”

“Good call,” Mark said. “What about your own men?”

Sean shrugged, his smile deepening. “The non-believers have thought for years that I’m a little bit crazy—worse, they believe I can think like a deranged killer. But they’ve seen things come to a satisfactory conclusion before by thinking my way, so…The men I put in the hospital to watch over Deanna…they’ve been on similar duty before. They believe.”

“What’s your take on Jonas?” Mark asked him.

“Like I said before, seems like he’s on the right side. But I don’t personally know him.”

“Neither do I.”

“Truthfully, I don’t know you, either,” Sean said.

Mark almost said, Your wife knew me, but he refrained. She had really only known of him, and that had been a long time ago.

“Stephan is holed up somewhere. The problem is, I don’t think it’s in your jurisdiction. He’s got to be out of the Quarter somewhere, maybe even out of the city and the parish. I was thinking of taking a closer look down Plantation Row, out past your place. I already took a quick ride out that way, and I didn’t see anything that looked empty—that looked like some cultist group was sneaking in and out of it.”

“Maybe it won’t look empty,” Sean suggested. “Maybe Stephan made a few contacts before he came here. Maybe, by day, it looks like any other house.”

“Have your guys keep their eyes and ears open, huh?”

Sean just stared at him.

“They’re already doing that, huh?” Mark said.

“Yes.”

“I’ll be in touch,” Mark assured him, rising.

“By the way, we’ve got IDs on all the girls. They all have records for prostitution. One from Baton Rouge, one of them from Lafayette, and one from Poughkeepsie.”

“Poughkeepsie?”

“New York state. Maybe she was relocating. She didn’t have a known address down here, anyway.”

Mark shrugged. “Working girls will always go off alone with a man,” he said. “It makes sense.”

“Yes,” Sean said simply, then drew a deep breath. “I’ve got men watching the bars and strip clubs. But I don’t think you’ll find Stephan that way. He’s more subtle. If he’s committing the murders himself, I think he’s having the women brought to him.”

Mark nodded. “Makes sense. I found one of his minions in a bar when I first arrived. I followed him when he took a woman to a cemetery and killed him.”

“I guess he found someone who thought that doing it in a graveyard would be exciting.”

“Even young vampires can be seductive,” Mark said.

Sean nodded. “We’re on the alert for anything unusual. I’ll call you, right away if I hear anything at all.”

Mark thanked him and left the police station.

Stephan and his followers were targeting easy prey, he thought. Women who were ready to be seduced—for a price. They just didn’t know that they were the ones who would be paying.

Well, he’d hit the bars, and he had found one of Stephan’s lackeys, though the young woman he’d gone after had been just a tourist.

But Stephan had an untold number of followers. They could be anywhere. Not one of them, so far, seemed to have acquired the kind of strength and power Stephan had learned over the years, though. By day most of them were probably resting. But maybe not all of the.

During the day, the city was quieter than it was by night. Most people spent their time checking out the historic district, the museums, the restaurants and the shops. Parents took children for carriage rides. The aquarium and the zoo drew crowds.

But the bars were open.

And so were the strip clubs.

He wandered in and out of a few of the bars, catching snatches of live music along the way. At one place, the group was so good that he wanted to forget his quest and stay to listen, but he resisted the urge. Everywhere he went, he sensed nothing, saw nothing. Everything was quiet.

He decided to try a few of the strip clubs. At the Bottomless Pit he found worn carpets, cheap patrons and tired strippers. No one appeared the least bit menacing. In fact, performers and audience alike seemed to be asleep.

He moved on and found a neon sign that promised Bare, Bare, Bare!

A hawker with bad teeth was out front, trying to lure people in. Mark decided to pay the cover charge and take a look.

It was quiet.

There were a few scattered patrons, including a heavyset man in the front row, with a prime location right next to the pole. As Mark entered, a weary announcer was trying to make his voice excited as he raved about Nefertiti, goddess among women.

She appeared on the walkway, and on contrast to the rather cheesy atmosphere of the place, the ennui of the announcer and the shabby appearance of most of the patrons, she was good-looking to the point of beautiful. Tall, golden skinned, with long, sleek dark hair. She made her way to the pole and eyed the heavyset man who had taken up the catbird seat.

She twisted and writhed. She started out wearing spangly harem pants and a jeweled bra, with finely meshed material connecting the skimpy bits. The mesh went quickly, then the top, and before long, just as promised, she was bare, bare, bare, and everything was gone.

She elicited a fair amount of applause for her act, considering the room wasn’t particularly well populated.

Then Nefertiti stepped down, and the announcer called out the next girl, Annie Oakley, with a faux hearty “Ride’em, cowboy.

Annie Oakley had clearly been around a while. Her breasts were definitely silicone, and gravity was establishing dominance.

Few people were watching her.

Nefertiti had gotten dressed, though she wasn’t exactly ready for church, and gone over to the man in front, offering him a lap dance. Mark kept one eye on the stage and the other on Nefertiti. It was the usual stuff, but the heavy-set man was evidently enamored.

Mark’s phone rang. Still watching Nefertiti negotiate, he answered with a soft, “Yes?”

“I’ve got something.” Sean’s voice.

But Mark barely heard him; he swore and snapped the phone shut, staring at Nefertiti. Her hair was a good foil, but not good enough to hide the fact that she was just about to take a bite out of the beefy flesh and pulsing jugular of her heavyset client.

Heidi did seem more like Heidi, Lauren thought. She seemed confused by her own actions, though, almost as if she didn’t really remember a thing about the day before.

“Hey,” Lauren said, giving her a hug when she found her downstairs at the breakfast table.

“Hey,” Heidi echoed, then asked anxiously, “Do you think Deanna is going to be all right? I can’t…I can’t seem to make much sense of yesterday. I guess I was coming down with something. And you’re not going to believe this. It’s awful”

“What?” Lauren asked, her heart thumping.

“I can’t find my engagement ring. How in God’s name did I lose my engagement ring?”

“It might show up,” Lauren said.

“Barry will kill me,” Heidi said.

“No, he won’t. And…you’re still going to marry him?”

Heidi frowned. “Of course I’m going to marry him.”

“I’m glad.”

“When did I say I wasn’t going to marry him?” Heidi pressed.

Stacey, coming to the table with fresh coffee, answered flatly, “Yesterday.”

“Never!” Heidi protested.

Lauren looked at Stacey and then at Heidi. “Uh, yes,” she murmured.

“Tell her. You have to tell her the truth,” Stacey insisted.

Lauren stared at Stacey again. Just what “ truth” was Heidi going to believe?

“You were bitten by a vampire,” Stacey said. “You have to know all this, and you have to get with the program.”

Heidi’s jaw fell. She looked at Lauren accusingly, as if Lauren had forced them to move to a crazy house.

“A vampire?” Heidi demanded. Stacey was quiet. Heidi picked up her coffee cup, and her fingers were shaking. “A vampire,” she repeated tonelessly.

“Yes, actually,” Lauren told her.

“Who’s the vampire?”

“We think you were bitten by a vampire named Stephan,” Lauren told her.

Stacey took a seat at the table and leaned toward Heidi. “Think about it. When you were at the hospital, you let him in. Thankfully, he went after you and didn’t suck the remaining life out of Deanna.”

Again Heidi’s jaw dropped. “You are all stark raving mad,” she said, and started to rise.

Stacey set a hand on Heidi’s arm. “Think hard. Make yourself remember yesterday. Remember Bobby and I coming in. Remember Lauren! Think about going to dinner with Mark and then coming back to the hospital. None of it was a dream. None of it was in your imagination. It was all real.”

Heidi looked pale and uneasy. “All right, yesterday was strange. I’m sure I had a fever. Maybe a bit of whatever made Deanna so sick.”

Lauren started to reply, but she didn’t get a chance to. Stacey had decided there was going to be nothing gentle about getting Heidi to see the real picture and kept going.

“You bet it’s the same thing. Deanna would have died if she hadn’t gotten to the hospital when she did. And she could have died again when you let that monster into her room. Fortunately he decided he would try poisoning you, as well. But luckily Mark recognized your symptoms right away, and we were able to get you back here before anything worse happened. But he’s still out there, and you’re weak—”

”I am not weak!” Heidi flared.

“Wait!” Lauren spoke at last. “Stacey, this…man is extremely powerful, and Heidi had no idea what she was up against. Stephan has hypnotic powers. I was almost frozen myself when I came across him, and I was armed and knew what I was up against.”

“You were armed?” Heidi demanded.

“Water pistol,” Lauren told Heidi. “Holy water.”

“Forget that for now,” Stacey interjected. “It’s incredibly important that you think back and remember everything,” Stacey said to Heidi. “Vampires really do exist, and Deanna and you have both been tainted. He has a gateway to you now, unless you really understand the danger and fight against him,” Stacey said firmly.

Again Heidi just stared.

“I do remember going to dinner with Mark. He wouldn’t let me eat my hamburger,” she said thoughtfully.

“He knew, once he was with you, that you’d been tainted,” Lauren told her gently.

Heidi shook her head. “You guys have all had a few too many. I know something is very wrong, but vampires?”

Before either of them could answer, Heidi’s cell phone began ringing. It was Barry, Lauren knew. She recognized the ring tone.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Heidi began.

Both Lauren and Stacey could hear the anger in Barry’s voice, though they couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“No!” Heidi said. “I didn’t! It must have been someone’s idea of a practical joke. I would never—”

The phone went dead in Heidi’s hand. Tears were apparent in her eyes as she stared at the other two women.

“He…he says I called him yesterday and said that it was off, that I was sorry, but I wanted to sleep with other men. And then I hung up on him!”

“I’ll call him,” Lauren said quickly. “I’ll think of something to say. I mean, we all know how much you love him. And how much he loves you.”

“He hates me!” Heidi said, distressed. “I didn’t call him, I would never have said those awful things.”

“You did call him. And that’s the problem. He’s your fiancé—he knows your voice.”

Heidi burst into tears.

“It’s going to be all right,” Lauren said, the words hollow in her own ears, but they were the only ones that seemed appropriate at the moment.

Stacey was harder and firmer. “You need to start out by being glad you’re alive, and then you need tostart believing what we’re saying. You are going to do every single thing I tell you to do, and then, when we’ve all survived this, we’ll work on getting your fiancé back.”

“I’ll call Barry today,” Lauren told Heidi, handing her a napkin to dry her eyes. “Don’t cry, Heidi. It won’t help any.”

“Don’t cry?” Heidi exploded suddenly. “You’re telling me I was bitten by a vampire—because I ‘m weak—and that I called my fiancé and trashed the prospect of my marriage. And you don’t want me to cry?”

“No, don’t cry, get mad,” Stacey said. “You need to be angry. Take a good hard look at what the creature trying to seduce you made you do. Wake up!”

“I am awake. Believe me, I’m awake,” Heidi retorted angrily. She wiped her face and stared at the other women. “If this is some kind of practical joke…”

“I wish it were,” Lauren said softly, reaching across the table to gently touching her friend’s hand. “I’ll call Barry. We’ll convince him your phone was stolen by someone who overheard you talking about him and decided to be cruel.”

“Will he believe it?” Heidi asked.

“Will he believe it if you tell him you were under the influence of a vampire?” Stacey asked curtly.

“You will call him? You’ll convince him?” Heidi said to Lauren.

“Of course. You love him, and he loves you. He’s just angry right now—but he loves you.”

Heidi was quiet for a minute. “So…what now?”

“I have to get back over to the hospital,” Lauren said.

“Yes, of course, we need to go back,” Heidi said.

“Not you,” Stacey told her firmly.

“What?” Heidi protested.

“You’re with me. You need another day to replenish what you lost—and you need to learn the ropes,” Stacey told her.

“What ropes?” Heidi asked.

“Vampire killing ropes,” Stacey said in a tone that left no room for argument.

Mark leapt up, knocking a table over in his haste to reach “Nefertiti” before she could sink her fangs into the man.

“Stop!” he shouted, and threw himself at the woman.

She went flying down to the stage beneath him. Her eyes—a deep brown with a hint of the light that gave her away seething fire—met his.

Then the heavyset man had him by the arm and was dragging him up.

“He’s a psycho!” Nefertiti shrieked.

“Bastard! Pay for your own entertainment,” her big client bellowed.

“Call the cops,” Nefertiti said.

“I’ll handle this asshole better than the cops,” the man said, drawing back his massive fist.

Mark easily dodged the blow. “She’s diseased!” he shouted as he ducked. The other man had put so much weight into his attempted attack that it carried him down to the floor with an oomph.

“Diseased?” he said. “Oh, God!”

Nefertiti took that moment to race, naked, backstage. Mark leapt over the big man on the ground and followed her.

A half-dozen not-so-hot looking showgirls in various stages of undress shrieked as he went flying through the dressing room in pursuit.

Nefertiti grabbed a silk robe and kept running, heading for the back door.

She pushed through it; Mark was right behind her.

The door led to a long hallway.

She reached the door to the street just a split second before he did. She burst outside, and he followed, catching her by the arm.

She spun around, fangs bared, ready to shape-shift. By then he’d drawn a small little squirt gun from his pocket. He fired and hit her squarely between the breasts.

She screamed.

People stared.

“Cops! Somebody call the cops!” came a cry.

“He’s got a gun!” someone else roared.

“It’s a frigging water pistol!” a third person chimed in.

One way or the other, Mark couldn’t afford to stick around. They made a pretty ridiculous picture, the stripper in her heavy make-up and robe, him with a water pistol shoved against her side, a wave of smoke rising from her chest.

He had to move, and quickly. He didn’t want to lose his hostage, but he also didn’t want to destroy her.

He wanted answers from her.

“Come with me—now. And quietly. You know what I have here. You can die for real, or you help me. The choice is yours,” he said.

“I’m hurt,” she said pathetically.

“You’ll be more than hurt in two seconds if you don’t shut up and do what I tell you,” he assured her.

She slipped an arm around his shoulders, pretending to be with him. Onlookers would probably just assume they’d had a lovers’ quarrel, he thought.

“I’m nearly…gone.”

“Nearly, but not quite.”

“You need to show some mercy,” she whined.

“Like you were about to?” he suggested.

“I wasn’t going to kill him.”

“We’ll never know, will we? Just shut up and come with me, or the cops will be here. And then I’ll have to kill you, because I can’t let you go,” he promised her swiftly. “Let’s go.”

She complied without further complaint.

The older woman sitting across the desk from Sean Canady was very upset. The desk sergeant had tried to explain that she couldn’t fill out a missing persons report, because the missing person hadn’t been missing long enough.

But the woman had been persistent.

Her name was Judy Lockwood, she said. She had raised her niece, Leticia, since she had been a small child and Judy’s brother, Leticia’s father, had passed away. Leticia had grown up to be a fine young lady. She worked at the hospital as a nurse, and she hadn’t been sick a day since she started. She went to church; she always came home at night.

But she hadn’t come home last night. And she hadn’t reported in to her job at the hospital.

Because Sean had insisted on being told about absolutely anything even slightly out of the ordinary, Judy had been shown into his office.

He had put through a call to Mark Davidson the minute he had heard the two keywords “disappeared” and “hospital.”

The woman in front of him was straight and slender, wearing a flowered dress that was clean, smelled of fresh air, and was perfectly pressed. She wore dignity about her like a cloak; she sang in the church choir, and she lived by a code of right and wrong. Sean’s heart seemed to squeeze as she spoke to him. He prayed her niece was fine. He doubted that she was—though, from all he was hearing, she was a far cry from the previous victims whose pitiful remains had been pulled from, the mighty river.

“When was your niece last seen, Miss Lockwood?” he asked.

“Just yesterday evening—and I know, I know, she hasn’t been missing long enough, but I’m telling you, something’s wrong. She said goodbye to Bess Newman, who was taking over her patients. Bess said she left late, because Leticia always stays longer, just to make sure all her paperwork is filled out and all her patients are in good shape. She’s a really good nurse, Lieutenant Canady,” Judy assured him.

“But no one saw her after she left the hospital?” Sean asked.

“No,” Judy said.

“Did she drive to work?” Sean asked.

“Yessir, I was getting to that. Her car’s not in the parking lot.”

“And you don’t think she drove somewhere, and that…something came up?”

She stared at him as if only a complete idiot could have made such a comment. “Lieutenant, you haven’t been listening to me. Leticia is a very good girl. She goes to church. She has never missed a day of work. What can you imagine that would suddenly make a woman like that just decide she wouldn’t go to work?”

“Miss Lockwood, I am worried about your niece, and that’s why I’m taking this report myself.”

Huge tears suddenly filled her eyes. “She’s a good girl. Not that I wish any ill on anyone, but from what I read in the papers…those other girls took chances. My Leticia didn’t. She went to church. She went to work. She’ll go out on a date now and then, but with a good boy, a boy from the church. She’s never had any truck with boys in gangs. So she couldn’t have been taken by…by whatever horrible monster…killed those other girls…could she?” she asked weakly, hopefully.

Sean covered her hand with his. “I’m going to follow up on this, Miss Lockwood. I promise you, I’ll do my very best to find her.”

As Judy Lockwood started to rise, there was another tap on his door. The desk sergeant stuck his head in. “A friend of Miss Lockwood’s is here, Lieutenant,” he said.

Another woman walked in. She was almost Sean’s size and, like Judy, beautifully dressed, down to her straw hat. “Excuse me, Lieutenant Canady, and thank you for your time. Judy, I just got a call from Leticia. She ran late into work, and that was all. She’s sorry you were worried, Judy, and she’ll talk to you tonight. But she’s fine, and that’s what matters, right?” She turned to Sean. “I have a cell phone, you see. The grandkids bought it for me last Christmas. Judy doesn’t like them, so she never got one.”

“Thank the Lord!” Judy said, rising, clapping her hands together. She turned sheepishly to Sean. “Lieutenant Canady, I thank you for your time. And I am so sorry I wasted it.”

“I don’t think it was a waste of time, Judy. We need answers around here right now, and I hoping anyone will come in when they’re afraid, just as you did.”

“You’re a fine young man, Lieutenant.”

He smiled. He was pushing fifty. He wasn’t sure that made him a young man at all.

They left his office, and he had just started to pick up his phone when there was yet another tap at his door. The desk sergeant was back.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“No. You did the right thing,” Sean said.

As soon as the sergeant left and closed the door behind him, Sean picked up his cell and called Bobby Munro. “Stay there,. Stay in that room and don’t leave until I get there.”

“Right, Lieutenant,” Bobby said.

“Jonas still there?”

“Sir,” Bobby said very softly, “he hasn’t left even to take a leak.”

Let’s hope to hell he’s as decent as he seems, Sean thought, then asked, “So what’s going on there? Everything fine?”

“Yup. The doctor was in this morning. He hopes she’ll come to soon, and that she’ll be fine. It’s looking good. Well, as good as it can look, at any rate.”

“Cansee you the chalk board that lists the nurses assigned to the room?” Sean asked.

“Yeah, I can see it from here.”

“Is someone named Leticia coming on?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“Don’t let her in the room,” Sean said.

“Um, actually, that would be a problem, Lieutenant.”

“Why is that?”

“She just walked in. She’s here right now,” Bobby told him.

The pulse in the throat, he had told her. “Find the pulse in the throat. You’re a nurse, so you won’t have any problem. You’re starving, and you will be in this pain until you fill yourself with what you need, but you must be careful. There is only one who can stop your pain. You must go to her room. There will be someone there, so you must be careful, but you are a nurse, and you can go right in and ease your pain.”

The words pounded in Leticia’s head. She had very little memory of exactly what had happened; she only knew that she was supposed to do as she had always done. Go to work. Sign in. Once she had done what he had commanded, all would be well. He would find her again. She would be rewarded as she had never been rewarded before.

She found the patient, Deanna, who was lying there in silence. There were also two men in the room, one sitting by the bed and watching Deanna intently. The other was a cop, but he was on the phone. She had seen him in the room before. Bobby. The cop’s name was Bobby. For some reason, evern though so much was a blur, she knew his name.

She walked over to the bedside and replaced the IV drip, just as she normally would. Then she leaned lower. She could hear the pounding of the woman’s heart, could see the pulse in her throat.

She felt a streak of agony worse than anything that had plagued her so far. A hunger unlike anything she could have imagined before. It tore at her insides like a razor blade. It demanded satiation.

She opened her mouth, and she felt another stark and terrible pain as her teeth actually…stretched. Somewhere, in the very back of her mind, she knew that biting another woman and seeking to drain her of their very last drop of her life’s blood was wrong.

But the hunger…

The hunger was unbearable….

She paused suddenly, terrified.

The pain continued to brutally tear at her stomach, but something worse, something as powerful as an atomic bomb, had exploded within her mind.

She was nearly blinded.

Yet she saw.

There was a chain around the woman’s neck.

A chain and a cross.

Leticia remembered Aunt Judy and Pete, how she’d wanted to be a nurse to save lives, how she had loved to sing with the choir and…

No! The pain raked her and made her bleed inside. She was insane with hunger, ravenous. She had to feed.

She leaned lower, her fangs closer…

And then heavy hands fell on her shoulders, and she screamed at the agony tearing her apart.

It took Lauren so long to smooth things over between Barry and Heidi that she was ready to scream at them both when Barry at last agreed to speak with Heidi again.

They were on the phone, cooing away to one another, when she finally felt able to leave, Big Jim Dixon accompanying her.

She was glad of his company. Big Jim seemed to take everything in stride, and he didn’t talk much; she was happy just to be with him.

He drove her right up to the front door of the hospital. “Are you coming in?” she asked him.

“I want to get back to the house. I don’t like to leave Stacey alone,” he told her. “Heidi seems just fine,” he said, noticing the way she quickly looked at him. “Honestly,” he added firmly.

“Of course,” Lauren said. “Thank you for driving me here.”

“We watch out for one another here. You go on up and see your friend. She won’t be alone. Bobby will be with her.”

Lauren walked through the halls and down to the elevator. People said hello all along the way, and she greeted them politely in return. New Orleans really was a great place—if you just discounted the vampires.

She reached Deanna’s floor, where there was the usual activity at the nurses’ station. It was a busy place. Doctors, orderlies, nurses, all going about their business.

She walked down the hall.

There was no officer outside the door..

She felt a little leap of fear, then remembered that Bobby was on duty, and he would be in the room with Deanna.

But when she reached the room and walked in, there was no one there.

Just Deanna, sleeping as usual. So beautiful, so peaceful, like the fairytale princess awaiting her lover.

The windows were open, the drapes blowing inward.

There was no sign of Bobby, or even Jonas.

As she stood in the doorway, puzzled, a scream echoed from down the hall.

13

M ark didn’t dare take “Nefertiti” to Montresse House—there was no way he would invite her into the home where Lauren and her friends had found safety. Nor could he take her out to Sean’s house, for the same reason. He would never risk the lieutenant and his fam ily’s safety by bringing such a creature in.

At least she seemed to have decided that he was dangerous to her, and she was quiet and well-behaved, accepting his lead as he moved down the street, trying to find a café with a courtyard and plenty of room—and sunlight.

She protested when he chose a place and picked ouut a table. His chair was in shadow. Hers was not.

“Sit,” he commanded.

“I’m sitting.”

“Talk.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want to know where you go to sleep.”

“I sleep…different places.”

“Who did this to you?” he asked her.

She waved a hand in the air dismissively. “Who knows? Someone with money.”

He leaned back, shaking his head. “You’re a liar. You never worked in that club until you became a vampire. And you go somewhere in particular at night.”

She stared at him sulkily just as a waitress came to their table and looked enquiringly at Mark. “Order,” he said with a shrug. Nefertiti smiled at the waitress. “He’s so rude. But he’s so good in bed that I don’t care,” she said sweetly.

The waitress, an older woman with graying hair, stared at the two of them as if she’d just been faced with the dregs of society.

“An ice tea, please,” he said.

“I’m hungry,” Nefertiti whined.

“Then eat.”

“He really is so commanding,” she told the waitress. “I’ll have a hamburger.”

“Medium? Medium-well?” the waitress asked.

Nefertiti offered her a sugary smile. “Raw, please.”

“You mean…rare? The health code suggests—”

”Not rare. Raw. No bun, thanks.”

“I can’t give you a raw hamburger. The health code—”

Mark slapped a large bill on the table. “Please just bring her a raw hamburger.”

With a disapproving look, the waitress left them.

“Where are you from?” Mark demanded, leaning closer to her.

“Bourbon Street.”

“Where are you from?” he repeated.

She smiled. “Houma, originally. But now I’m from Bourbon Street.”

“So you were created on Bourbon Street?”

“Ooh. Smart fella.”

“So where do you go at night?”

“Wherever I choose.”

He had the water pistol aimed at her beneath the table and let go with a short spray. She nearly jumped out of the chair. “Bastard!” she hissed at him.

The waitress returned with a plate holding a raw hamburger. It was barely on the table before Nefertiti was digging into it with her fingers. The waitress made a soft sound, clearly not intended for them to heard, that was filled with disgust.

“Maybe you can be helped,” Mark suggested when the waitress had gone.

Nefertiti stopped eating for a moment and stared at him, then shook her head. “No. I died, and I rose. There is no help.”

He realized suddenly that she was looking past him, over his shoulder. He turned around but saw nothing. In that split second, she was up and running.

“Stop!” he shouted.

She only kept running. He followed, practically leaping over a table to keep up with her. She turned down a side street, then into an alley. “Stop!” he yelled again.

At that moment a toddler came running out of a door onto the sidewalk in front of her.

Nefertiti stared, then grabbed the child and turned to look Mark straight in the eye.

The little boy started to cry. From inside the house, they could hear a woman’s voice calling, “Ryan? Ryan! Where are you?”

Nefertiti shook her head at Mark with a curious, almost wistful smile.

“Don’t!” he cried.

She opened her mouth and began to lower it, fangs extended, to the crying toddler’s throat.

He shot her with a long, continuous spray. She let out a screech of agony and dropped the boy. Smoke and steam rose from her skin, and she fell, hardly recognizable anymore as a human being but instead a writhing, shifting form, wretchedly decayed.

He heard the sound of police sirens.

Disgusted, Mark turned and quickly escaped the alley. He heard the mother shouting, calling the boy’s name, then screaming in bone-chilling horror, no doubt as she stumbled onto Nefertiti’s remains..

As he turned onto Delphine Street, Mark saw a police cruiser, lights flashing, pass him.

And he heard the flutter of wings overhead.

As he walked quickly away, he thought over what had happened and realized that the woman who called herself Nefertiti had preferred extinction at his hands to facing her master and being branded a traitor.

As he walked, he remembered hanging up on Sean back at the club. Cursing, he drew out his phone and punched in the lieutenant’s cell number.

Lauren was torn. The scream demanded—self-preservation demanded—that she run. At the same timer, she needed to know why someone was screaming. But most of all, she knew that if Deanna were to have a chance, she couldn’t leave her alone again.

That last option won out. She rushed over to Deanna’s bed, wondering if whatever was happening was only a ruse to trick everyone into leaving her friend alone and vulnerable.

Deanna’s IV was still connected to her arm. She still lay on her white pillow and sheets as she had for what seemed like forever. The princess. Unmoving.

Swallowing, her fear nearly paralyzing her, Lauren picked up Deanna’s hand and fumbled for the pulse in her wrist.

It was there, regular and strong. She breathed a sigh of relief.

But what the hell was going on?

Lauren had been concentrating so hard on Deanna that it was several seconds before she realized that someone had come into the room behind her.

As she turned around, wary and tense, she heard the door to the room slam shut.

He was there.

Stephan. Stephan Delanskiy. Standing now at the foot of the bed. Ink dark hair fell over his forehead, contrasting with the doctor’s white coat he was wearing. “How is my patient?” he asked very softly.

Lauren looked toward the open window. Shouts and cries were coming from the hallway; the hospital seemed to have turned into Bedlam. But Stephan Stephan Delanskiy seemed oblivious to all that. She didn’t know where he had come from, if he had stepped into the room from the hall, or if he had come through the window.

But it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that he was there.

She stared at him and flipped the cross she was wearing out from under her shirt.

He smiled. “That will not stop me, you know.”

“Maybe so, but you’re there, and I’m here.”

“Because you must come to me.”

“I will never come to you.”

“Eventually, you will.” He laughed softly. “I have my ways of doing things. Methods. Even madness, you might say. You see, this is a war. Whatever skirmish I may lose to my enemy, in the end, it is a war, and I will win. And you will come to me, because I know you.”

“You cause suffering and death,” she told him. “You hurt people. You nearly killed my friend. You’re evil, and you will not win.”

He smiled and shook his head, as if explaining things to a small child. “What in life has ever led you to believe that what you call ‘evil’ cannot win? Take that silly cross around your neck. I have seen it before, and it failed to stop me then, just as it will now. He is not the salvation you think he is. And I am not death, but rather, eternal life.”

“Tell that to the women you’ve beheaded,” she said softly.

He made a dismissive sound. “They did not deserve to live.”

“You’re wrong. They didn’t deserve to be murdered.”

They could both hear footsteps then; someone was running down the toward Deanna’s room.

“You will come to me,” he told her again, his smile cold and certain.

There was the sound of something slamming heavily against the door. Instinctively, Lauren looked in that direction just as the door burst open.

Mark was there, stranding in the doorway, his gaze quickly darting around the room. He rushed over to her, drawing her close to him, his arms around her.

“He was here,” he said huskily, his tone certain.

“Yes.” She couldn’t help it. She was trembling, even though Stephan had vanished as suddenly as he’d appeared.

“Deanna?”

“She seems to be all right.”

“And…you?”

“I’m fine, too.”

He let out a sigh of relief. For a moment he seemed so weary that she longed to hold him forever, but now, more than ever, she was afraid to leave Deanna’s side.

“What’s happening here?” she demanded.

As if in answer, another scream echoed from down the hall.

Even between them, Sean realized, he and Bobby couldn’t manage to hold the woman.

Leticia Lockwood was slim and delicately built, but at this moment her strength was unimaginable.

“I can’t hold her!” Bobby cried.

Sean had gotten off the elevator just in time to see Bobby trying to wrench Leticia away from a gurney, where she was rabidly attacking a bag marked Type O Positive that was attached to a line transfusing into an apparently post-op gentleman of advanced years. Bobby was already sporting a swollen jaw, and hospital employees were scurrying just to get out of the way.

“Hey,” Sean said firmly, grabbing hold of Leticia’s shoulder as she writhed like an animal beneath Bobby.

She screamed, a bloodcurdling sound that was horrible to hear. Then, with astounding ease, she threw Bobby clear across the hall.

“Damn it, stop! I don’t want to shoot you!” Sean roared.

He might as well not have bothered. Leticia was up and flying at a hapless intern who was standing by, aghast.

“Shit!” Sean swore and went tearing after her.

He tackled her, and they hit the floor together.

She shoved him, and he fared no better than Bobby.

She was off again, this time making a leap for the frozen and panic-stricken head nurse, who was standing behind the desk.

Wincing, Sean drew his weapon and fired a warning shot.

Everyone screamed—except Leticia, who didn’t even pause.