Blood Red (11 page)

“Uh, yes.”

He stared at her, as if expecting her to say more. She swallowed, not about to tell him that she had put it on after Mark Davidson had left it on the table that afternoon. She hadn't wanted to lose it until she had a chance to give it back.

“You should always wear it,” he said quietly, then stepped back.

“What's your bed and breakfast?” he asked.

She told him, and he arched a brow at her. “Did you call in the other night to ask the patrol officers to keep an eye on the place?”

She flushed. “Yes.”

“You were afraid?”

“I…. I had seen someone lurking around on the sidewalk.”

He nodded, watching her intently. “So where are you from?”

“Actually, I'm originally from Baton Rouge. But I live in L.A. now.”

“I see.”

What did he see?

“I'm here with friends. We're on vacation. If I can tell you anything else, I'd be happy to. If not…I should get back to them.”

“Sure.” He glanced around at his partner. “I'm officially off, Bobby. Think I'll call it a night. Keep your eyes and ears open for anything. I'm going to go in and watch Big Jim's next set, have a beer.”

“Sure thing, Lieutenant,” his partner said. He turned, and headed back for the patrol car. “Call me if you need a ride.”

“I can get him home,” Big Jim said.

“Cool.”

The officer walked on. “Miss Crow?” Lieutenant Canady said, indicating that she was free to return to the bar.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

She walked through the courtyard. No one seemed to have noticed everything that had gone on only a few feet away. Then again, what had really happened?

Two men had fought briefly, then disappeared—as if into the mist.

Deanna was back at the table in earnest conversation with Heidi. Lauren headed for her chair.

Neither Big Jim nor Lieutenant Canady followed her. Big Jim went back to his place in the band, and Canady took a seat directly in front of the stage. The band members all acknowledged him with nods, smiles and, in one case, a raised glass.

The lieutenant took a seat, loosened his collar and ordered a drink.

Though he seemed to be watching the band, Lauren was convinced the only reason he had come in was to see if she really was with friends. Or maybe just to keep an eye on her. She didn't understand why, but she was as unnerved by the him as she had been by everything else.

Deanna leaned across the table and asked, her voice low, “What happened? That guy in the band must be sharp as a tack—I think he called the cops before the guys even made it outside. And when I was going to follow you, he stopped me and gave me this.”

She produced a business card and handed it to Lauren.

“What is it?” Heidi asked.

“It's for another bed and breakfast,” Lauren murmured. “Montresse House.”

“Think he lives there?” Heidi asked with a giggle. “That would be a different way to pick up women, huh?”

“He wasn't trying to pick me up,” Deanna said.

“No?” Heidi queried.

“I can tell, and you know it,” Deanna told her.

“Maybe he's friends with the owner or something, and just hands out cards,” Lauren suggested.

“Yeah. There's something about him that's…I don't know. Trustworthy,” Deanna said.

Lauren fingered the card. “I'll put it in my wallet.”

“Sure. You never know when we might come back.”

Deanna's voice sounded strange. As if she was really thinking that she would
never
want to come back.

“So what happened out there?” Heidi asked again.

“Nothing,” Lauren said. “The two of them yelled at one another, and then the guy from the band, Big Jim, came out and threw a beer at them. They disappeared before the cops showed up.”

“Disappeared?” Deanna said in dismay.

“You can't be that hung up on this guy yet,” Heidi said. “And you should both take a lesson from this—don't get involved with strange men.”

They both stared at her.

She let out a sigh. “Let's go back to the cottage. The mood tonight is definitely blown. Great party we're having.”

Lauren sat back, caught sight of their waiter and motioned that they needed the check.

He brought it to them, and they quickly handed him cash, then got up and headed for the door. Though his back was to them, Lauren was convinced that the cop was aware of their exit.

“Well, that was a downer,” Heidi said a few minutes later as they walked through the night.

Deanna laid an arm across her shoulders. “Heidi, I'm sorry.”

“No,
I'm
sorry. I just don't get it. Did the two of them know each other?” she asked.

“I don't think so,” Lauren said.

“Then…?”

“Who knows?” Lauren replied.

They turned off Bourbon Street, walking briskly.

Lauren knew, somehow, that they were being followed. She turned around. There was no one there, but it didn't matter. She knew what she knew. But she didn't have a sense of darkness or of shadows. Instead she knew that, at home in the night, the cop was following them.

“Let's go on a river boat cruise tomorrow,” Deanna suggested.

“Cool idea,” Heidi agreed. “And before we leave, I want to drive out to the zoo, too. I really love it.”

“Great idea,” Lauren said, turning around again. She couldn't see him, but she was sure that he was standing in the shadow of one of the nearby buildings.

They reached the courtyard of the B and B without incident. The gates creaked when Lauren opened them. They walked around the pool. The gorgeous and friendly lesbian couple from cottage three were sitting at one of the tables, sipping from plastic cups and watching the stars. Both women, Janice and Helen, were tall and blond, and modeled for a large clothing chain.

“Beautiful night, huh?” Janice called.

“It's so pretty here, just breathing in the magnolia, watching the sky,” Helen offered. “Don't you think?” She seemed anxious for them to agree with her.

“Beautiful,” Lauren agreed.

“Janice thjinks it's kind of creepy, too,” Helen added.

“Darkness and shadows,” Janice said, then laughed. “I've got too much imagination. Helen doesn't mind the most gruesome horror movie, but I can only watch them at home, where I can leave the room when I can't take it anymore.”

“Well, I'm going in. I'm beat,” Deanna said, and, walked on toward their cottage to a chorus of good-nights.

“I'll follow her,” Heidi said.

“I guess we'll go in, too,” Janice said. “Although we do have more champagne, if you'd like some.”

“Tomorrow night?” Lauren suggested.

“Great,” Janice said. “Meet you out here? I really do love this place at night. It's just that sometimes…”

“Sometimes what?” Lauren asked.

Janice shrugged and looked apologetically at Helen. “I get the feeling we're being watched.”

Were they all crazy, Lauren wondered, or was their uneasiness just natural? The cottages were secluded, it was true, but the main house overlooked them. And the wall that separated the B and B from the old Victorian next door, where the bottom floor sold T-shirts, coffee and voodoo potions, and the upper floor was rented out as apartments, was tall and solid and would be hard for an intruder to scale.

“Deanna thinks she's being watched sometimes, too,” Lauren said.

“What a shock,” Helen said, laughing. “She's gorgeous. Imagine that. Some peeper watching a gorgeous woman.”

“Let's all keep our doors locked, huh?” Lauren said.

“You bet,” Helen agreed.

Lauren couldn't help but be glad that the other women had been outside to greet them—even if Janice's words had given her a start. And Helen's explanation
was
a sensible one.

They wished each other goodnight and headed off toward their own cottages. Lauren looked back toward the street when she reached her door and saw that they had indeed been followed back from the bar by a man.

But she could see him plainly. It was definitely the cop.

She turned away and went inside.

“I'm going to bed,” Heidi said. She quickly hugged them both. “Forgive me for being bitchy. Tomorrow night, no fights, we just have fun.”

“Absolutely,” Deanna swore.

“You got it,” Lauren promised.

Deanna gave Lauren a hug, too, as Heidi went into the bedroom. “You're a great friend. And I'm being a really weird one. Sorry. Love you.”

“I love you, too,” Lauren assured her. “And it's not you being weird. It's just that weird things that have been happening, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. But do you want to know the really weird thing?”

“What?”

“In spite of tonight, I really want to see Jonas again. Don't worry, though. I'm not going back out in the night or anything. I'm wiped, too. I'm going to bed.”

“Goodnight.”

When Deanna had disappeared into the bedroom, Lauren went to the window, pulled back the curtain and looked outside again.

The cop was gone.

As she stared out, she heard a soft tapping on the door. She jumped, just managing to hold back a scream. It was the cop, and that was why she couldn't see him on the street.

Without thinking, she opened the door.

It wasn't the cop.

She drew breath to scream, but she never got the chance.

A hand covered her mouth, and she was dragged out into the night.

S
ean Canady had taken the call while he was standing on the sidewalk on Conti Street, having just made sure that Lauren and her friends had gotten safely into their cottage.

“Canady here,” he said.

“It's Bobby, Lieutenant. We've got trouble.”

“Go on.”

“We have another floater.”

Sean's heart sank, and he swore silently. “Where?”

Bobby gave him the coordinates. He was thankful to hear that they weren't in the heart of the city.

“Send a car for me now,” he said, and gave his exact location.

“Yessir.”

“Bobby?”

“Yeah?”

Sean paused. “Headless?”

“Yeah, Lieutenant. Headless.”

“Don't scream. Please, don't scream. I swear to God, I have no desire to hurt you, I'm trying to
help
you.”

Thoughts plowed through her mind with the speed of lightning as she was dragged from her own doorway.

She should scream. Definitely, she should scream.

She would pretend to agree, but the minute he lifted his hand, she was going to scream bloody murder.

His eyes seemed so sincere. And he was definitely a powerful man, all muscle; if he had wanted to drag her somewhere else, he could have done it easily.

Scream.

How many women throughout history had died because they had listened to the words
don't scream
?

She wasn't an idiot.

She was the daughter of a cop, for God's sake.

“Please, if you'll just listen to me, I swear I won't touch you again. You just have to listen to me. You have to understand the danger you're in.”

Actually, I want you to touch me, even if you look at me and think of Katie, even if I'm not quite sure whether you're sane or not….

Bad thought.

But when he eased his hand away from her mouth, she just stood there, staring daggers at him, shaking. Despite her promise to herself, she didn't scream.

“The cops know all about you,” she warned.

“Some cops may know what I'm talking about.”

“They know you're staying here.”

“Please.” He didn't touch her, though she could tell he wanted to. “Come next door. For ten minutes. And you can leave any time you want.”

Not only was she not going to scream, she realized, she was going to go into his cottage with him.

Not a grave danger, she tried to reassure herself. The cottages were small and close together. If she screamed, someone would hear her.

Wouldn't they?

“If you still think I'm totally insane after listening to what I have to say, I swear…I'll leave you alone.”

“I could have you arrested,” she lied.

“Your lives are worth the risk.”

He sounded so sincere.

She knew that the voice in her head telling her to just say no was right. Sure, she was attracted to the man, attracted in a way she had never believed she could feel again. In his presence, she felt as if her every sense was heightened, but that was a stupid reason to trust him. And yet…

“This better be quick,” she said brusquely. “Wait here. I'm going to lock the door.”

And to her amazement, she calmly went for her key, then made sure that the door was locked behind when she exited the cottage, this time of her own volition. He led the twenty feet or so to his own cottage and opened his door, ushering her in.

She took a deep breath as she walked through the doorway.

Had she just signed her own death warrant?

The cottage was like her own, with a bedroom, kitchenette, bath and living room. In their cottage, the sofa bed in the living room was made up. Here, it remained a sofa. She took a seat on the chair that faced the sofa. She was not going to let him sit next to her.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“No. You said you want to talk to me, so talk.”

He sat on the couch opposite her, a coffee table between them. He leaned forward and took a breath. His eyes caught and held hers

“You know the danger is real. A headless body was found floating in the Mississippi.”

“It's hard to miss the newspaper reports,” she replied.

“And I told you, I know who the killer is.”

I should be suspecting that it's you,
she thought. But somehow she couldn't believe that. If she had, surely she couldn't—wouldn't—have calmly walked over here.

No, he might not be entirely sane, but he
was
entirely sincere.

“How can you be so certain?” she asked him.

“Because I know Stephan.”

She stared at him, as if digesting what he had said, then asked carefully, “And you're certain that what you're telling me is…real?”

“Stephan Delansky is very real,” he told her quietly. “I've come here because I came across one of his…associates who told me he was coming here. With an army.”

“An army?” she queried. “Who is Stephan Delansky?”

“An old enemy. But not just my enemy. A very dangerous man. Many years ago I took a trip to Kiev, in the Ukraine. I met a woman there. Katya.”

“The one I remind you of.”

“Yes,” he said very softly, then took a deep breath. “I'm from this area originally. After I met Katya, she came back here with me. I was head over heels, and so was Katya. Katie, I called her. We were going to go back there to get married, though. To Kiev. She had always dreamed of being married in a castle, and there are some great castles over there. But while we were still here, she thought she kept seeing an old friend of hers—Stephan. I saw her speaking to him once and asked her about him, even suggested she introduce us, but he had no interest in meeting me. Meanwhile, we kept planning our wedding. But before it could take place, Katie was dead. Because of Stephan.”

His voice was mesmerizing, compelling. It touched her in some deep core over which she had no control. She wanted to listen to him, wanted to believe him.

But she couldn't help thinking that maybe the pain of his loss had made him delusional. She knew what it was like to deny the truth, to go through the fury, the agony and then the dull acceptance of loss.

Maybe he hadn't come quite so far.

“Did he shoot her? Stab her? What?” Lauren asked softly.

His head lowered for a minute. She was tempted to reach out. To touch the lush darkness of his hair.

He looked up at her again, straight in the eye.

“Stephan is a vampire.”

She froze, staring at him.

Wishing that she hadn't heard him correctly.

Knowing that she had.

“I see,” she said. But the only thing she saw was that he was delusional. It was so sad. The first man who had made her think she might want to at least have a relationship again, maybe even love again.

A relationship…?

OK, sex..

She told herself that she needed to get a grip. She had never been the type to indulge in casual sex.

Except there was nothing casual about this man.

Even now, after hearing him talk with complete seriousness about the existence of vampires, she still longed to reach out and touch the night-rich darkness of his hair.

He shook his head, the curve of his smile self-mocking.

“I know you don't believe me. But I know your cop, the one who showed up at the bar,, the one who followed you here. His name's Lieutenant Sean Canady. I went with him today to the morgue.”

“The morgue?” she repeated, staring blankly at him.

“I needed to see the body.”

“The headless woman?” That thought scared the hell out of her.

“Yes.”

“Let me get this straight. Lieutenant Canady, a police officer, took you in with him to see the corpse of a crime victim?”

“He did. You can ask him.”

There was a note of absolute truth in his tone. She knew that Canady really had taken him in to see the corpse.

Great. The cops were crazy, too.

He lifted a hand. “Please, hear me out. The cops aren't insane any more than I am. But this is New Orleans. Voodoo central. 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.

Wishing 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 fiancé 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 shielding 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.