BloodlustBundle

by Margaret Carter, Crystal Green, Erica Orloff, Patricia Rosemor

  “I don’t?” His voice was slurred, like a sleepwalker’s.

  Linnet still couldn’t fathom what had put him in this condition. From what she’d read about hypnosis, it didn’t work this powerfully. Maybe while she’d lain unconscious in the bedroom Max had injected Fred with a psychotropic drug.

  “No, there’s a better way to atone,” said Max. “You want to confess. You want to pay for what you did.”

  “Yeah.”

  “After visiting Nola’s house and finding her gone, you decided to turn yourself in. Why?” After a pause, Max said, “Obviously, because her disappearance made you realize how wrongheaded and futile the crime was. You killed those two people for nothing.”

  “Nothing.”

  “One half hour after I leave here, you will get into your car and drive to the nearest police station. You will confess to the murders of Anthony and Deanna. The authorities may not believe you at first. You must persist until they do.”

  Fred nodded.

  “Describe the act in detail. Tell the officers exactly how and when you killed your friends. Tell them where you dropped the weapons, so the investigators can search for them.”

  Another nod.

  “Now, this is important. When they ask why you committed the murders, you will not say Nola ordered you.”

  Linnet almost yelled in protest, but a frown from Max warned her not to interfere.

  “You won’t involve her directly at all. Instead, admit that you resented Anthony and Deanna’s being Nola’s favorites. You wanted to eliminate them because they distracted her attention from you.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Feel free to tell the police about Nola’s blood rituals. That will help them understand why you became so deranged that you would kill two people for such a tenuous motive. But don’t reveal Nola’s true nature. Understand?”

  Fred’s brow furrowed in obvious confusion.

  “In fact, you will forget all about that dimension of her character.”

  What dimension? Linnet wondered. That command might make sense to the entranced killer, but it baffled her.

  “As far as you know, she was an ordinary woman,” Max continued. “Merely a devotee of a bizarre fetish—strange, perverted, but otherwise normal. Yes?”

  “Right,” Fred mumbled.

  “There’s no telepathic link between the two of you. There never was. That was a delusion on your part.”

  Telepathic? How could that be anything but a delusion? Linnet wondered.

  “Now, to review. In half an hour, you will drive to the police station. You will turn yourself in.” The man flinched as if each word lashed him like a whip. “You will give a full account of your crime. You will explain why you committed the murders. Tell me why, Fred.”

  “Nola ignored me. Broke her promises. I had to get rid of Deanna and Anthony to make Nola pay attention to me.” He recited his answer in a barely audible monotone.

  “And what is Nola?”

  “Crazy lady who ran a blood cult.”

  “Is she anything more than that?”

  “No, just a rich weirdo.”

  “Exactly right.” Max leaned toward the couch, his hands on either side of Fred without touching him. “Nola is only a rich, eccentric woman with decadent tastes. Anthony was an ordinary young man, not so different from you. You decapitated him because you disliked him more than Deanna. No other reason. Understand?”

  “Yeah.”

  Linnet listened in growing confusion. Why did these details matter? And how could Max discuss his own brother’s mutilation so coldly?

  “One more thing, Fred. As soon as I leave this room, you will forget my visit. You were completely alone from the time you visited Nola’s house until you decided to confess. You’ve seen nobody else this evening.”

  “Huh?”

  “Nobody else has been here. You’ve been alone the whole time.” Max rapped out the words like hammer blows.

  Slack jawed, Fred only groaned in response. Linnet’s chest constricted, and ice water seemed to trickle down her spine.

  “Now I’m leaving. You will obey my instructions, but you will not remember this conversation. We never met. The moment the door shuts behind me, you’ll forget you talked to anyone tonight.”

  This time the young man made no sound at all. Max stepped back, glowering down at him.

  Linnet scanned his slumped posture, sagging facial muscles and blank stare. “What did you—”

  “Quiet,” Max whispered. He grasped her arm and steered her to the door. “We’re leaving.”

  Fred didn’t stir as they walked out the door and shut it behind them. His glassy-eyed trance made Linnet queasy. “Oh, God, you’ve turned him into some kind of zombie.”

  “You didn’t want him to remember meeting you, I’m sure.”

  She scurried to keep up with Max’s long strides. “But he looks brain damaged.”

  “May very well be.” At the car, he whirled to face her. For a second she thought crimson sparks glinted in his eyes. “Look here, you asked me not to kill that boy. In fact, having him confess to the police was your idea, wasn’t it?”

  “Well—”

  “Did you expect me to concoct that particular omelette without breaking an egg or two?”

  She swallowed, wrapping her arms around herself despite the humid air. “I just didn’t realize the egg would be totally smashed, so to speak.”

  “Doubtless it already had a few cracks.” He unlocked the car. “Feel sorry for him if you must, but don’t whine about the justice you asked for.”

  “Now wait a minute! It’s not as if you told me your whole plan in advance!” Fuming at the way Max had twisted the argument to make Fred’s condition her fault, Linnet silently got in the car and buckled her seat belt. As he started the engine, she said, “What will the cops think when he shambles in practically drooling? Won’t they be suspicious of anything he says?”

  “They’ll probably attribute his condition to long-term drug use.”

  “Which he might’ve really done at some time, even if he’s clean at the moment.” Now that she’d calmed down a little, she remembered another problem. “All right, why did you order him not to mention that Nola goaded him into the murders?”

  “I don’t want her implicated, obviously.” He waited until exiting the parking lot before switching on the headlights. “Did you leave a car at her place?”

  “No, I took a cab. Seemed safer. If the police came back, they might’ve recognized my car.”

  “Very well, I’ll drive you home. College Park, you said? Where, exactly?”

  She gave him directions. “Why don’t you want Nola implicated? Morally, she’s the real killer. We agreed on that.”

  “And what would happen if our young friend tried to convince the police of that? Besides clouding the issue.”

  “But she can’t just get away with it.”

  At a traffic light, Max turned his cold stare upon her. “Think! Homicide detectives questioned Nola once and got nowhere. Suppose they did bother to trace her and actually succeeded in finding her. Then what? Do you think the result would be any different?”

  Linnet realized the truth of this prediction, though she wasn’t about to admit it aloud. “So you’re just going to let it go?”

  “Certainly not. The police can’t deal with her, but I have other methods.”

  “Talk about me going overboard with responsibility—what makes this your job?”

  Another sidelong glance, this time with a rueful smile. “Much as I dislike admitting it, Nola Grant is a distant cousin of ours. That may explain why Anthony started attending her parties. He probably felt obligated to protect oblivious young people from her. That would be like him.”

  A bitter taste welled up in Linnet’s mouth. “Well, he didn’t do a great job of protecting Dee!”

  “He endangered himself for her. If he hadn’t meddled with one of Nola’s favorites, he would still be alive.”

  Linnet�
��s pulse pounded in her ears. “Don’t you dare blame her!”

  “I don’t blame anyone except Nola. It’s nevertheless a fact. And you seem to think my brother was at fault.”

  She unclenched her fists and expelled a long breath. “Okay, forget about throwing the first stone. What now?”

  “Now I take you home and begin searching for Nola.”

  Ignoring that “I” for the moment, Linnet said, “You don’t even know where she went, just someplace in California.”

  “I have contacts who can help me with that. I’ll find her.”

  “Fine. Except it’s we who’ll find her.” She braced herself for an explosion.

  “Damn it, woman—” Max’s hands flexed on the wheel, as he visibly scaled back his reaction to a slow boil. “How bluntly must I tell you that you’re a liability I don’t want? You’ll only slow me down.”

  She gazed out the window at the freeway lights, trying to suppress her awareness of the anger radiating from him like heat from a furnace. “I helped you get into Fred’s house.”

  “This isn’t the same. You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

  “Yeah? So explain it.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t. Just keep in mind that if apprehending her were a matter of routine, your police would have done it.”

  “And what are you, Secret Agent Man?”

  “I’m familiar with her kind.”

  Which isn’t much of an answer, Linnet grumbled to herself. She stared out the window a while longer, mentally sifting her options. After they merged from Route 50 onto the Washington beltway, she said, “I won’t let you leave me out of this.”

  He gunned the engine, whipping from lane to lane as if he couldn’t wait to get rid of her. She gritted her teeth and clung to the armrest. Finally he said, “Now that we’ve finished with that boy, I don’t need your help, and you have no way to force the issue.”

  “I can still call the cops on you. I’ll make something up.” The words tumbled out before she stopped to think. “If I report you for assault, say, or—”

  “No marks on your admittedly tempting flesh.”

  Tempting? Now where did that come from? She forced herself to ignore the heat flooding her cheeks. “Okay, that was far-fetched anyway. What if I claimed I saw you trying to break into Nola’s house? That might make you a credible suspect or at least a material witness. Credible enough to get them to put out a bulletin for you.”

  “When I’m already on my way to the West Coast?” He glanced at her with a Mr. Spock eyebrow arch and a fleeting smile.

  “I memorized the description and plate number of this car. It’s a rental, right? So you had to give your name—a name, anyway—and a credit card number. Not to mention that I could identify you as Anthony’s brother and make up some story about why I recognized you. That should intrigue them. They’ll catch up with you, at least long enough to interfere with your vigilante project.” Trembling at her own audacity, she added, “I’ll make them listen to me, even if I do get labeled a nutcase or arrested for filing a false crime report.”

  This time the glare he aimed at her held no hint of humor. “Damn it, you really mean that.”

  A roaring sounded in her ears. “I’ll do anything to track down Deanna’s real killer.”

  After a prolonged silence, during which she breathed deeply until her head stopped buzzing, he said, “Even if she can never be hauled into court for it? Because I assure you, she can’t.”

  “I don’t understand why not. And obviously you’re not about to explain. But yes, even then. Robin doesn’t need to know about it. Fred’s confession will be enough for her. But I have to find out the full truth.”

  “We’ll discuss it at your home.” The anger had faded from his voice. Maybe he’d finally accepted her determination.

  Drained of emotion for the moment, she felt woozy with fatigue by the time they pulled off the freeway into College Park. She expected to have to repeat the directions to her place. Max, though, negotiated the suburban streets as if he’d driven the route a dozen times.

  After parking in her driveway, he reached into the back seat and snagged a carry-on bag. Linnet didn’t quite register its significance until he locked the car and started up the sidewalk with her.

  “What the heck is that for?” she sputtered, rummaging in her belt pouch for her keys.

  “What did you expect me to do, after you badgered me with wild threats?” He plucked the key ring from her fingers and unlocked the door. “I’m not letting you out of my sight until we get this matter settled. I’m staying here.”

  Chapter 4

  The rainbow of conflicting emotions that rippled in the woman’s aura tempted Max to linger, feasting on her energy if nothing else. Perhaps it was a good thing she’d proved immune to his mesmerism, for that immunity gave him no choice but to stay focused on his goal.

  “What makes you think I’d let you spend the night?” Her shrill tone felt like a needle piercing his skull.

  With a firm grasp on her arm, he stepped inside. “Did I ask permission?” The front door opened directly into the living room of the small, ranch-style house. The artificially cooled air smelled clean, neutral except for a faint coffee aroma left from earlier in the day, a welcome change from the smoky atmosphere of Fred Pulaski’s apartment and the gasoline fumes on the freeway. Traces of Linnet’s healthy scent also lingered in the house.

  “Do you always get your own way?” Jerking free of his hold, Linnet paused to lock the door before flicking on the overhead light. He closed his eyes briefly against the unwelcome brightness.

  “Usually. This is in your best interests, too. You don’t want me to disappear, do you?”

  “Come to think of it, you have a point.”

  He dropped his airline bag onto the claw-footed, wing-backed couch. “I assume there’s no one to object? You don’t share the house?”

  He couldn’t help smiling to himself at the spike of fear she emitted. Did she imagine he had asked the question in preparation for murdering her and hiding the corpse? “Not anymore.” She closed her eyes momentarily. “‘A poor thing but my own,’” she misquoted. Fast, shallow breathing underscored her nervousness, and he heard her pulse accelerate. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a few minutes. The hall bathroom is that way.” She pointed, then fled into a bedroom and slammed the door.

  Splashing cold water on his face in the unlit bathroom, Max glimpsed sparks of red in his own eyes when he glanced at the mirror. Had Linnet noticed that dark-induced anomaly? If so, she’d probably dismissed it as illusion. Ephemerals had a talent for dealing with the “impossible” that way. Thanks to that tendency, spending a night under her roof didn’t worry him much. It helped that most people believed the ludicrous superstitions found in horror movies, such as the notion that the sun made his kind burst into flames. Seeing him walk in daylight, even if uncomfortably, would cancel any wild notions Linnet might entertain about his not being human.

  Still, he would have felt more confident if he’d been able to wipe any such ideas from her mind. Ironic, that his own brother had put him in this position. How like Anthony, to insist on using his hypnotic power to protect a human female simply because he happened to be infatuated with a relative of hers.

  Max considered ripping the necklace off Linnet. He wouldn’t even have to resort to violence; he could easily remove it while she slept. But would the loss of the ankh’s “magic” destroy her immunity to his influence? Perhaps not, now that she had fixed in her mind the belief that he couldn’t mesmerize her. And the absence of her talisman might make her vulnerable to Nola, if they should meet. The last thing Max needed was a human fellow-traveler whom Nola could interrogate about him. He imagined the worst possible scenario, that without the ankh Linnet would still be able to resist him, because she’d already proved to herself and to him that she could, but unable to fight off Nola’s doubtless more brutal assault on her mind. Another potential problem occurred to him.
Suppose Anthony had also given Linnet a posthypnotic suggestion to fight the loss of the thing, even wake instantly if anyone tried to separate her from it while she lay asleep? If Max himself had devised a similar plan, he would certainly have included that precaution. And the more importance his actions placed on the ankh, the more suspicious of him Linnet would become. He decided to leave her the comfort of Anthony and Deanna’s gift. He smiled to himself again. If he couldn’t handle a young human female through superior intelligence and experience alone, he deserved whatever she managed to get away with.

  He dried his face and put on the clean shirt he’d grabbed from his carry-on bag. Better not leave room for further accidental skin-to-skin contact. His throat burned at the memory of Linnet’s fingers on his chest. Not to mention the tantalizingly salty flavor of her tears. If he could have hypnotized her, he might have yielded to temptation.

  That damnable immunity was the most important reason for keeping watch on her. An ephemeral who couldn’t be made to forget about him was too dangerous to run loose. He resigned himself to dragging her along, at least for the present, although he distrusted her effect on him. He could hardly believe she had persuaded him with that sentimental argument about what Anthony would have wanted done to the murderer. I must have gone temporarily insane. Especially galling was the awareness that Anthony would have agreed with her. He would have respected human law.

  Through the wall, Max heard water running in the master bath. Yielding to curiosity, he took advantage of the chance to make a quick survey of the house. In addition to Linnet’s room, it had two small bedrooms, one furnished as an office. Bookshelves lined this room, as well as the living room. A small alcove off the compact kitchen served as a dining nook, completing the floor plan. She’d clearly told the truth about living alone. He extracted his cell phone from his bag and prowled the living room, scanning the shelves, while entering a California number. Science textbooks and paperback mysteries dominated Linnet’s collection. Agatha Christie occupied an entire shelf.