“For that kinda money, you can do whatever you want, sweetie,” she purred, batting her eyes at Jean in what she thought was a sexy manner.
“Good,” Jean said, stripping off his clothes.
Her eyes dropped to his penis, which was almost twice as large as any she’d ever seen. “Hoo, boy,” she exclaimed, moving across the room and taking it in her hands. “Maybe I oughtta be payin’ you, big boy.”
Jean bent down and flicked out his tongue, licking her lips as he turned her toward the bed and gently pushed her down onto her stomach.
“Uh, wait a minute there,” she said, a worried look on her face as she looked back over her shoulder. “I don’t know if’n you’re gonna fit back there.”
Jean grasped her waist and pulled her up onto her hands and knees as he fitted himself behind her. He cupped her pendulous breasts in his hands and rammed into her, causing her to screech in pain as the tender flesh between her buttocks ripped open.
Her eyes were closed and she grunted and groaned when he began to pump against her. His hands became claws, which pierced her breasts as he pulled her back against him.
“Sweet Mary!” she yelled, trying to pull away, “You’re killin’ me!”
“Not yet,” Jean replied through teeth that’d grown down past his lips, “but soon.”
After a moment of wild coupling, he came with a groan and let her flop on her face. She scrabbled on hands and knees away from him, turning in time to see his features melt and coalesce into a monster, with a long pointed tongue flicking in and out as he moved toward her.
“Oh, God . . . No-o-o!” she screamed, her hands going to her face, the pain in her backside forgotten.
He dived on top of her, ignoring her as she clawed at his face with her fingernails and jerked and fought for her life.
He put a claw in her hair and yanked her head back, exposing her neck to his fangs. He lowered his head and began to feed.
Slowly, her screams diminished into grunts and groans, and her legs and arms became limp at her side.
When she was lying empty on the bed, he stood up and licked the remains of her blood off his lips.
Sighing in complete satisfaction, he picked up his clothes and got dressed. He walked to the dresser and stood in front of the mirror and combed his hair. When he was satisfied with his appearance, he picked up his thousand dollars and put it in his pocket. He left the room without looking back.
Michael Morpheus, unlike most Vampyres, didn’t associate feeding with sex. In fact, he never had sex with his victims, thinking them an inferior species not deserving of such an honor. He saved that for members of his own species.
He entered room 4 and didn’t bother to lock the door behind him. He found the other prostitute he’d kidnapped sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes fearful as she watched him move across the room toward her.
“What you want with me, mister?” she asked, tears forming in her eyes.
He shook his head. “Nothing much. Just your miserable life.”
“What?” she asked, starting to get to her feet.
Michael let himself change, enjoying the look of terror in the woman’s eyes when his hands became claws, his face elongated, and his fangs appeared.
“Oh, Jesus!” she said, her mouth dropping open.
Michael slashed sideways with his claws extended, severing her carotid artery and almost tearing her head off at the neck.
As she flopped backward, he caught her in his arms and pulled her to him, fastening his teeth on her neck and swallowing her blood as it pumped out of her ruined neck.
Within minutes, he was done and he carried her lifeless body out of the room and onto the back porch.
He whistled shrilly, waited for the movement in the reeds at the bayou’s edge, and then casually tossed her body into the water.
The others, finished by now, walked out onto the porch to see what he was doing.
Suddenly the woman’s body was ripped apart by gigantic jaws that emerged from the dark water.
Michael dusted his hands off, grinning at his friends. “There, you see? Nothing for the forensic pathologist to examine.”
Christina grinned. “I love your garbage disposal,” she said, and she left to get her victim’s body from the bedroom to feed to the alligators.
Once all the bodies were gone, Michael and the others met back in his living room.
“I suggest we plan to meet here once a week,” he said. “That should be enough to satisfy the Hunger.”
The others nodded and prepared to leave. Just before Christina got to the door, Michael put a hand on her shoulder. “Christina, why don’t you stay for a while?” he asked.
She glanced down at his lap and saw the large bulge there. “Certainly, Michael,” she replied with a sardonic smile. “What kind of a girl would I be if I didn’t thank a gentleman for taking me out to dinner?”
Twenty
Matt, along with Sam, Shooter, and TJ, arrived in New Orleans and checked into the Royal Orleans Hotel in the middle of the French Quarter.
As they stood in the opulent lobby waiting for their keys, Shooter glanced around at the lavish furnishings. “Jeez, guys,” he said, “I’m not used to this kinda luxury.”
Matt smiled. “Well, I hear there’s a Motel Six down the road if you’d rather stay there.”
TJ grabbed Shooter’s arm and hugged it as she nestled next to him. “Nothing doing,” she said. “This is the first time we’ve traveled together and I want it to be special.”
Shooter and TJ were rooming together, as were Matt and Sam. Shooter held the receipt up and grimaced. “Look at this. Three hundred fifty dollars a night! That’s pretty damned special.”
TJ leaned her head back and batted her eyes at him. “Aren’t I worth it?” she asked.
“There’s only one answer for that, Shooter,” Sam said gaily, “that is, if you don’t want to end up sleeping in the lobby.”
Shooter grinned down at TJ. This was the most normal she’d acted in weeks, and he didn’t want to spoil the mood by being grumpy. “Of course you are, sweetheart,” he answered. “Nothing is too good for the woman I love.” He grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s go check out the gift shop while they get our rooms ready.”
After they walked off, Sam punched Matt on the shoulder. “Why can’t you be romantic like Shooter?”
“It’s a mite difficult to be romantic when we’re up here on a trip trying to track down a homicidal maniac who’s supposed to be dead,” he said.
Sam smiled knowingly. “Just wait until we get to our room. I’ve brought something that’ll make you forget all about Vampyres.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Oh? What’s that?”
“Just a little something I picked up at Victoria’s Secret the other day.”
Matt took a deep breath and turned to the desk clerk. “You got those keys ready yet?” he asked anxiously.
When they got to the room, after promising to meet Shooter and TJ in the restaurant after unpacking, Matt tipped the bellman, then shut and locked the door.
He turned to find Sam standing by their window, which overlooked Bourbon Street. He walked up behind her and circled her with his arms, letting his hands cup her breasts.
“Now, what was that you said about Victoria’s Secret?” he murmured in her ear.
She turned and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Uh-uh, that’s for later. Now I’ve got to unpack and get settled in.”
“Promises, promises,” he grumbled. “That’s all I ever get.”
Sam opened her suitcase and pulled out a sheer black nightie that would barely cover her hips. She held it up. “Think about this while you wait,” she said. “Anticipation is the best part of making love.”
“Well,” Matt said, smiling at the nightie, “maybe not the best part, but it ranks right up there.”
After Sam got their clothes arranged in the closet and dresser drawers, she glanced at her wristwatch. “Time to meet Shooter and TJ downstairs.
”
“Yeah, I’m so hungry I could eat a horse,” Matt said. “The peanuts on the plane didn’t do much to satisfy my appetite.”
After he locked the door behind them, they walked down the corridor arm in arm, as so many lovers before them had done.
They found Shooter and TJ in a corner booth, next to a window that also overlooked Bourbon Street. They were laughing and pointing at some of the strange-looking people walking down the sidewalk.
Sam whispered in Matt’s ear, “Doesn’t TJ look good? It’s as if this trip has brought her back to her senses.”
Matt nodded. “Yep. She’s like the TJ we used to know.”
TJ noticed them standing in the entrance and waved them over.
After they were seated, Shooter grinned at Matt. “You’re not gonna believe some of the people walking around the streets here. It’s like a costume party.”
Matt laughed and picked a menu off the table. He gulped and shook his head. “Boy, Shooter, if you think the room rates were pricey, just wait until you see what they get for a burger and fries in this joint.”
Sam cleared her throat. “OK, boys, here are the ground rules. We’re here on business, as well as pleasure, and I don’t want any more grousing about what it’s costing us. TJ and I will split the expenses, so I don’t want to hear any more about it.”
“That’s right,” TJ agreed, staring at Shooter with narrowed eyes.
The men held up their hands. “All right, all right,” Shooter said as a waiter appeared ready to take their orders.
“And no burgers and fries,” Sam said. “When in Rome, and all that stuff.”
To make her point, Sam ordered shrimp Creole. TJ said she’d have trout Ponchartrain. Matt grinned and ordered oysters Rockefeller. When Sam looked at him, he spread his arms. “I’ve gotta get ready for that new nightie you showed me up in the room.”
Shooter looked at TJ. “Did you hear that? Sam bought a new nightie.”
TJ patted his arm. “Don’t you worry, Shooter. We went shopping together.”
“Oh,” Shooter said, mollified. He looked up at the waiter. “I’ll have the oysters, too.”
When they’d finished the food, which all agreed was beyond compare, Matt ordered after-dinner cocktails for everyone.
After the drinks were served, he said, “Now let’s decide how we’re going to go about finding Roger Niemann, if he is, in fact, still alive and here in New Orleans.”
“The first thing we’ve got to do is check in with the local police,” Shooter said. “Chief Clark told me the man to see is the chief of detectives, William Boudreaux. According to Damon, he’s the man heading up the Ripper investigation.”
“You think he’ll agree to see us?” Sam asked.
Shooter nodded. “Yeah. Damon called him and told him we were coming up here to check on someone wanted in connection with a series of murders in Houston. He said there’d be no problem.”
“I think Shooter and I should tackle that. You girls go to the local medical society and see if you can get a line on any new doctors in town. If Niemann is here, it’s my guess he’ll be here as a doctor.”
“But, Matt,” TJ said, “in a town this size, there’s bound to be lots of new doctors coming here every year. How’ll we know which ones to check out? Roger is sure to have changed his name.”
“First we’ll look at hematologists and internists,” Matt answered. “I doubt he’d change his specialty. If that doesn’t work, we’ll just have to get names and addresses of all the new docs and see if we can get a look at them. It’s my guess he won’t have bothered to change his appearance too much.”
“And while you guys are doing that, I’ll see if I can find out where that ship, the Moon Chaser, is berthed. I’ll set up surveillance on it. With any luck, if it is Niemann’s ship, he’ll make a visit to it and I can follow him to his home.”
“That’s all well and good,” Sam said, “but, since this is our first night here, I propose we act like regular tourists and enjoy it.”
“What did you have in mind?” Matt asked.
Sam glanced at TJ and smiled. “TJ and I would like to see a couple of strip clubs and maybe take in some jazz or ragtime bands.”
Matt frowned. “Jeez, Sam. I’m awfully tired. Don’t you think we should turn in early?”
She patted his hand. “Don’t worry, dear. We won’t keep you out too late, and I promise you the nightie will be waiting for you when we get in.”
The night of fun started out fine, with everyone enjoying the strip clubs along Bourbon Street. Shooter let the others know he was mightily impressed with a certain brunette at one club, until he found out the strippers were all female impersonators. He immediately suggested they try Al Hirt’s club down the street and see if they could find some good jazz to listen to.
TJ started out the night in a very good mood, considering the serious purpose of their visit to New Orleans. She was laughing and teasing Shooter, until she found herself becoming increasingly disoriented.
It began after they were seated at a table for four at Al Hirt’s. They’d ordered drinks and were enjoying the band’s first set of the evening, when suddenly TJ began to get mental impressions. It was as if someone else was in her mind with her, and she began to get double images of the club, like she was seeing it through someone else’s eyes.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but the images remained and even began to be accompanied by emotional responses foreign to her.
Rubbing her forehead, as if that would make the images disappear, she glanced around the dimly lit room. After a moment, she found a dark-haired woman staring at her; she became convinced she could see herself and Shooter through that pretty woman’s eyes.
Flustered, she shook her head and got up to go to the ladies’ room to splash cold water on her face. Once she was in the rest room, the images and feelings vanished and she began to believe she’d only imagined them.
She was resting her hands on the sink and staring at herself in the mirror when she noticed a reflection of the dark-haired woman entering the room.
TJ turned and the woman walked up to her and stared at her without saying a word. Then, she smiled, reached into her handbag, and pulled out a business card. She handed it to TJ without speaking and left the room as suddenly as she’d appeared.
TJ read the card: DE LA FONTAINE ANTIQUES. The name was spelled out in fancy gothic lettering, with an address and phone number embossed underneath.
Taking a deep breath, TJ placed the card in her purse and went back to join the others.
Twenty-one
When they got back to the Royal Orleans, the two couples separated at their doors, promising to meet at nine for breakfast.
TJ walked into their room and threw her purse on the dresser. “I’m going to take a quick shower,” she said. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
Shooter nodded and made his way to the bed, then flopped down on it. He was more than a little drunk and the room was spinning like a top.
He was just starting to doze off when TJ stepped from the bathroom fifteen minutes later. He opened bleary eyes and saw her standing in the doorway, dressed in a sheer white nightgown that flowed around her figure like clouds on a windy day.
The hair on the back of his neck stirred. She looked exactly like the females in the old vampire movies who ran around broken-down castles in white nightgowns, chasing hapless villagers.
Ashamed of his thoughts, he shook his head to clear it and took a longer look at her. He focused his eyes on the dark spots at her chest and groin where her nipples and pubic hair could plainly be seen through the gauzy fabric. This had the desired effect and all thoughts of vampire films were banished from his mind by the immediate and powerful feelings of lust.
“How do you like it?” she asked in a husky voice.
“It’s terrific,” he croaked, rolling off the bed and moving toward her.
He took her face in his hands and gave her a deep, lingering kiss, feeling her ha
nds moving to his groin and cupping his manhood.
She leaned her face back and whispered, her breath warm on his lips, “I think you’re overdressed for the occasion.”
While he got out of his clothes as fast as he could, TJ moved to the bed and lay back with her hands behind her neck, watching him with hooded eyes.
Suddenly she blinked and shook her head. She found she was able to see herself through Shooter’s eyes and even feel his lust for her in her mind. This was incredibly erotic and she felt herself become immediately wet with reflected desire for him.
She reached down and caressed her breasts, feeling her nipples spring to life as he stepped out of his shorts and stood naked before her.
“Hurry, Shooter,” she moaned, rubbing her breasts with her palms.
He quickly lay next to her on the bed and pulled her against him as he kissed her. She could feel him pressing hard against her and she pressed back, making him moan in pleasure as she ground her pelvis against his.
As they kissed, tongues intertwining, he lowered the strap of her gown and exposed her breast to his view. He moved his head and took the nipple in his mouth, cupping and kneading the breast with his hand while he suckled.
TJ groaned and felt herself begin to change, staring at his neck in front of her face. She quickly reached up and turned the light off, lest he see what she was becoming.
She pushed him over and rolled on top of him, burying her face in his neck as her hand sought and found his penis. Shooter laid his head back and gave himself up to his feelings as she caressed him with her hand and bit gently into his neck with teeth that had grown into fangs.
As her hand moved faster and faster, and she sucked harder and harder, Shooter’s hips began to move in rhythm with her hand.
TJ, almost delirious with lust, opened her mouth and was about to rend and tear when she suddenly realized what she was doing. With a mighty effort, she pulled her lips back from his neck and moved her head down across his stomach.
Breathing heavily with the effort to control herself, TJ took him in her mouth, covering her fangs with her lips to keep from hurting him.
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