Blood Red (12 page)

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 sexual images that he aroused in her mind, even though she knew that she had to be bordering on insanity to even be considering a relationship 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 substitute 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 fuck,” 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 fuck. 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 dispassionate. 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 God 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 shivered. “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.”

“I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry. I even watched my drinking tonight,” Deanna said apologetically.

Heidi came wandering out then, half asleep, confused. “Hey, what's going on out here?”

“It's all right,” Deanna said, seeming like her usual self again, dismissing her disturbing behavior as if it were pure silliness. “You can dress me up, but you just can't take me anywhere,” she said lightly. “I've had dreams my whole life, sometimes good, sometimes bad, but I never woke up the whole neighborhood before. I am
so
sorry.”

“No problem. Good we're all nearby, huh?” Janice said cheerfully, then murmured, “That's strange. Where's tall, dark and to die for from cottage six? You'd think he'd be out here. He's such a…”

“Lean, mean, fighting machine?” Helen teased.

“I think he's a cop or something,” Janice said.

“He's a writer and musician,” Lauren corrected.

“So he says. I think he's a cop. FBI, maybe.”

I think he's crazy

, Lauren longed to say.

Then again, this whole night was crazy. Though the courtyard felt entirely normal now, she had to admit—no strange eyes watching them, no living shadows—it was damp, late and dark. And Deanna was ashen and still shivering.

“Mark…” Deanna murmured. She laughed. “I think he went off to fight the monster from my dream.”

So much for Deanna being angry with him for attacking Jonas, Lauren thought.

“Well, as long as everyone is all right…” Janice said, and yawned.

“Fine. And I'm really sorry. Hope you all get back to sleep okay,” Deanna said.

“Not a problem,” Helen assured them.

“So cn we go back to bed, too?” Heidi asked. “We'll block the door, Deanna, so you won't be able to get back out.”

Deanna stared at Lauren.
That's what you did last night, her eyes said. Why didn't you do it again tonight?

Lauren couldn't answer the silent question. She could hardly say,
Because I was listening to a madman talk about vampires.

They went inside, and Lauren made a point of locking the door, then dragging a chair over and wedging it under the knob.

Heidi and Deanna watched from the hallway.

“Look good?” Lauren asked, determinedly cheerful.

“Look's good to me,” Heidi said.

“Thanks,” Deanna told her.

Then they turned and went into the bedroom.

Lauren curled up on the sofa bed, found the remote, turned on the television and flicked around until she found an old repeat of “Three's Company.”

She hugged her knees to her chest protectively as she watched.

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.”