Vampire - Blood Red Part 16

They're aware of all kinds of cultists and weird practices going on here."

"Sure," she murmured.

She needed to get out of here. He had sworn he wouldn't stop her. All she had to do was stand up and leave.

But she didn't.

"And when you saw the body?"

"Even though she had been beheaded, you could still see the marks."

"The marks? From a vampire?"

"Yes."

She inhaled, wary, feeling as if she needed to run as fast as she could, but fascinated by the conversation despite herself.

Wis.h.i.+ng desperately that...

That they weren't having this conversation at all.

"All right," she said. "Let's go back to what went on tonight at the bar. Deanna considers that man, Jonas, a friend. Why were you trying to beat him to a pulp?"

"Because he's a vampire."

"I thought Stephan was the vampire?"

"Stephan is one vampire, a very old one. Very powerful. He can influence people around him, command respect." He let out a sound of derision. "Just like a cult leader," he said quietly. "I think Stephan has come here with an army of vampires. And I'm convinced he knows you're here."

"And he's after me because I look like Katie?"

"I don't know if he'd been in love with her, after her, for years, or if having her simply became a matter of pride, an obsession, for him. But, yes, if I saw you and thought-even for a split second-that you were Katie, I can promise you that Stephan would have reacted exactly the same way."

She moistened her lips and spoke softly, reasonably. "All right, so...so if Stephan wants me, why is Jonas after Deanna?"

"I had hoped to find that out tonight. Deanna is beautiful. Any man would notice her in a crowd. Maybe that's all it is. Perhaps Jonas, having seen her, just wants her for himself. Or maybe Stephan has decided to pick off your friends one by one to get to you, so he's ordered Jonas to go after Deanna. And of course Stephan knows I'm in the area now, as well."

"How does he know that?"

Mark looked grim. "Trust me. He knows. And he's been here-on the grounds. I know that, too."

"You've seen him?"

"I've...smelled him." Smelled?

A chill shot through Lauren. She should be laughing.

No, she should leave. Should have left ten minutes ago.

But once again, she simply watched him, amazed. There was something in his words, a calm sincerity, that was disturbing. He spoke with such an element of truth...or true belief, at least.

She sat still for a moment, then leaned forward and said, "Mark. I know what it's like to lose someone. I was engaged myself. My fiance was in the military, and he was killed overseas. I knew he was in danger over there, but somehow you don't believe anything terrible will happen to someone you love. He was a pilot, and his plane went down. I tried for months to believe it was a lie, a mistake, that it was someone else...but then his body came home and I had to face the truth. There are stages of grief, you know. Denial, fury, guilt...I'm sure it hurt terribly to lose Katie. I know there were days when I thought I'd lost my mind.

Seriously, I'm a pacifist, but I wanted to nuke half the world."

He shook his head, dark lashes s.h.i.+elding his eyes. Then he offered her his rueful grin, the one that made her long to get closer to him.

"I have no desire to hurt anyone other than Stephan-and his kind."

"As in vampires."

He hesitated. "As in his kind," he repeated.

She lifted her hands. "What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Let me protect you."

"You want to follow us around?"

"Yes."

She rose, thinking that she very seriously needed to get away from him, to listen to the voice of sanity again. At the same time, she couldn't resist being with him, near him, seeing his eyes, hearing his voice. All she wanted was for this to be a normal conversation. Like a date. She wanted to laugh with him. She wanted to be pulled into his arms...to explore the dream.

"I have to think about this," she told him.

He stood, as well. "You want to go to the police in the morning and report me as a lunatic, and you want to put your life in the hands of the authorities. But they can't help you. I'm not sure the police can even help themselves."

"Look, I'm really tired. I had a few drinks, and right now I don't know what I think." She started for the door but turned back.

"And I'm not Katie."

He shook his head. "I know that. You're very different, entirely yourself." There was a husky tone in his voice, and she couldn't help the very s.e.xual images that he aroused in her mind, even though she knew that she had to be bordering on insanity to even be considering a relations.h.i.+p with him.

She realized that she had needed to know he realized she was different, her own woman, and she wasn't sure why. And she was angry with herself becasuse it was so important. She didn't intend to be a subst.i.tute for any other woman, so if...

If she did wind up in bed with him...

But she wasn't going to. For one thing, he clearly wasn't right in the head.

"So why the interest in me?" she demanded harshly. Too harshly.

"Because you're remarkable," he told her.

Suddenly it was all too much for her. "I need to get back. Heidi or Deanna might wake up, and they'll panic if I'm not there."

"Of course."

As he said the words, the night was suddenly broken by a bloodcurdling scream.

The sound of helicopters over water practically deafened Sean.

Without that, and the sounds of the work force gathering, it might have been any other slow southern night on the river. Though he couldn't hear them, he knew that insects were chirping nearby, and there was actually a breeze off the water, carrying with it the scent of magnolias. If he closed his eyes...

He would still hear the helicopters and the shouting all around him.

A couple of kids out in a canoe had reported the grisly find; they were now huddled on the embankment, wrapped in blankets, pale and scared. Sean knew they'd had nothing to do with the murder, and he called for a couple of officers to take them home.

"Oh, man, this guy is one sick f.u.c.k," someone muttered near him.

He didn't say anything. He knew the guy wasn't sick at all. Wasn't demented. He was demonic. And smart. Sean knew he had to keep the situation under control, keep local cops thinking there was a run-of-the-mill deranged killer on the loose.

"I don't want her touched until Mordock gets here," he said, nodding to Bobby, who would see that his word was carried out as law.

He walked down closer to the water, knowing it would give him no clue. No, this guy was more than some sick f.u.c.k. He was enjoying every minute of what he was doing. Population control. Leaving just enough hints to throw the cops on the wrong track.

Dumping the bodies in the Mighty Mississippi, knowing the water would wash away so many clues.

"Lieutenant? Mordock is here," Bobby called.

Sean strode back to the body. He looked down. He'd never become a dispa.s.sionate. This was his city, and he loved it, fought for it. He cared for its people.

But the dead girl didn't even seem real. No head. Her skin sickly white, her flesh swollen from immersion.

Mordock looked up at him. "I'll know more after the autopsy," he said.

"What do you know now?" "Dead two to four days, maybe. I don't think much longer."

"Decapitated before or after death?" Sean asked, but he already knew the answer.

"After."

One of the cops standing nearby crossed himself. "Thank G.o.d for that," he muttered. Then he turned around and walked away.

Sean could hear him retching.

"Drained of blood?" Sean asked wearily.

"You bet," Mordock said. He looked at Sean. "Do we have another vampire cult or something on our hands?

"Yeah. Or something," Sean said. "Excuse me. I've got to call my wife."

Mark might have been big and tough and fast, but Lauren still beat him outside.

Where she saw....

Something.

A shape.

Living darkness?

At the end of the pool, looking like a large black hole in the universe, someone-or some thing-in conversation with Deanna.

Deanna, looking gorgeous, was in a nothing but a white cotton nightgown, her hand to her heart, staring at...What?

Lauren couldn't see clearly, but she was sure there was something there. Something besides darkness.

Darkness that moved.

Mark flew past Lauren. She was amazed anyone so big could move so fast and immediately thought he must have played football, then wondered how she could waste time thinking about something so inane thought when she was so afraid. As Mark ran, she noticed that he had pulled something from his pocket. Suddenly liquid went flying into the living darkness that lurked just behind Deanna.

Lauren came to a halt, her heart pounding. Mark had moved beyond Deanna, setting himself between her and whatever had been there. She refused to accept her feeling that she had seen a dark cloud of evil in the air. Someone had been there. She was simply being tricked by the shadows.

But when the liquid had flown, she was sure she had heard something.

A hissing.

Now the shadow was gone, and so was Mark. He didn't go out the gate, though. Like a quarterback heading down the field with the ball, he ran-and leapt over the wall separating the cottages from the next property.

She stared after him blankly for a moment.

Then she jolted back to reality. Deanna was just standing there, shaking."Deanna!" she cried, and rushed forward, putting her arms around her friend.

Deanna didn't move, didn't acknowledge her.

"Deanna?" she said again, tentatively.

Deanna jumped, as if suddenly awakening from a deep sleep, and stared at Lauren.

"I..." She fell silent, looking around in confusion. "I don't remember coming out here," she said, and s.h.i.+vered. "Was I sleepwalking again? I had a dream. I thought that I was going out to see Jonas...but then it wasn't Jonas." She sounded lost and afraid. Then, suddenly, her demeanor changed. "Were you talking to Mark Davidson? What on earth is the matter with that man?

Why was he trying to hurt Jonas?" Her tone had gone from confused to impatient and irritated.

"Deanna, this is serious. And it has nothing to do with Mark or Jonas," she said firmly. "You were sleepwalking again. And you screamed."

"I did not!" Deanna said, shocked.

"Is everything all right?"

Lauren swung around. It was Helen; she and Janice had emerged from their cottage, clutching robes around themselves.

"Oh," Deanna groaned. "Did I wake you? Did I really scream?"

"You did," Janice said. "Someone did, anyway."