“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?”
Hei
di 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?”
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.
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