Blood Red (19 page)

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.

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?”