“What if he doesn’t want to come?”
Michael thought for a moment. “Don’t force it, but let him know he’s in no danger from us and that we have a proposition for him that he’ll want to hear about.”
“You got it. We’ll be there shortly.”
* * *
Chief William P. Boudreaux picked up his phone and told Sergeant Bo Deveraux to come into his office.
Moments later, a man wearing a porkpie hat and a checked coat too small for him appeared in the doorway.
“Yeah, Chief?” Deveraux asked as he entered and took a seat in front of Boudreaux’s desk.
Boudreaux stared at Deveraux’s clothes for a moment, wondering if the man had any color sense at all. “Bo, you been able to find those folks I had you tailin’ the other day?”
Deveraux’s face colored and he cleared his throat, his eyes shifting around the room, looking everywhere but at his boss. “Uh, no, sir. Like I told you yesterday, they checked outta their hotel, an’ none of the other hotels in town have them listed.”
“Any word yet on the BOL?”
“Uh-uh,” Deveraux answered. “It’s like they just dropped outta sight. None of the officers on the street have spotted ’em.”
“And you think they ditched you on purpose?” Boudreaux asked, chewing on the end of a pencil.
“Yeah, Chief. One minute they’re all eatin’ lunch and the next they’ve split up, goin’ in all different directions. So I stationed myself by the elevator to wait for them to come down. Like I told you, when the two men came out an’ got in a cab, I found somebody had stuck a knife in my tire so’s I couldn’t go after ’em.”
Boudreaux snorted in disgust. “Deveraux, I swear you’re useless as tits on a boar hog!”
“I tell ya, it wasn’t my fault, Chief,” Deveraux whined. “They musta known I was on their tail an’ flattened my tire.”
“And just how did they know you were following them?” Boudreaux asked pointedly.
“Jeez, I dunno.”
“It couldn’t be those fucking clothes you’re wearing, could it, Bo? Jesus Christ, when you tail someone you’re supposed to fit in with the crowd so they won’t see you.”
Deveraux looked down at his jacket. “What do you mean?”
“The only crowd you’d fit in with would be at a circus, Bo,” Boudreaux said disgustedly. “Until we hear from our friends or someone finds them, I want you to go on over to that elementary school on Franklin Avenue. I want you to pick out a couple of first graders and see if you can manage to follow them home. It’ll be good practice for you.”
“Uh, any particular kids you want followed?” Deveraux asked.
Boudreaux shook his head, his face turning red. “I was just kidding, to make a point, Bo. Now get the fuck out of my office and try to stay out of my sight until we find our visiting tourists! There’s been another Ripper killing and I want to talk to them about those contacts they supposedly have.”
Forty-two
TJ woke up feeling better than she had in months. She had none of the minor aches and pains she’d gotten used to since her partial Transformation, and her mind seemed to be clearer and more focused than it had in ages.
In fact, all of her senses seemed to be stronger and more acute. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of stale sweat, and the odor of their lovemaking the previous night hung in the air like a fog.
She bounced out of bed and went into the bathroom to shower and get dressed.
Shooter, awakened by her movements, sat up in bed and held his head. He felt tired, drained, and listless. His mouth was dry and cottony and tasted as if the entire Chinese army had washed its tennis shoes out in it.
He stumbled out of bed and walked slowly into the bathroom. He could see TJ’s naked body through the glass shower door, a sight that usually filled him with desire. But not this morning. Not after their marathon lovemaking last night. He was sore and achy, and all he wanted was to brush his teeth and get some coffee down him. Maybe that would perk him up.
The sounds of stirring in the adjacent bedroom brought Albert fully awake on the couch in the living room. He hadn’t slept well. The sounds of TJ and Shooter’s raucous sexual exploits brought back too many painful memories of when he’d been the recipient of her desire.
He got to his feet and went into the kitchen to make some coffee and try to erase the images of TJ’s face when they’d made love in his Houston lair.
Within half an hour, all four of them were gathered around the kitchen table drinking coffee and eating stale doughnuts from the pantry.
Matt and Shooter looked wan and weak. Albert hoped TJ hadn’t taken too much of their blood in her excitement at feeding after so long a time of abstinence.
“I had some success going through Carmilla’s journal last night,” he told them while they ate.
“Did you get an address for Morpheus?” Shooter asked in a tired voice.
“Better than that,” Albert replied. “Her journal is made like a day-planner notebook. There’s a journal part in the front for making notes, and an address book in the back. I was able to find the full names for Sarah and Jean, and all of their addresses. She even had their home and cell phone numbers listed.”
“That’s good,” Matt said sarcastically, his voice weak and thready. “Now we can just call them up and ask them to please bring Sam home.”
Albert looked at him and decided to ignore the sarcasm after what Matt had been through last night.
“Only as a last resort,” Albert said. “If they’re not in their homes and we can’t find them, we may have to use your police contacts to trace their cell phones. That will at least tell us which part of the city to search.”
Shooter shook his head. “I doubt that the police will want to help us out, not after we ditched their tail and didn’t report back to Boudreaux like we said we would.”
“That brings up a point,” TJ said. “Do you think we should let the police know about Sam? Maybe they can locate this Morpheus faster than we can.”
Albert shook his head. “Not a good idea, TJ. If they did manage to find his hideout and went in with guns blazing, they wouldn’t stand a chance of getting Morpheus and they might get Sam in the cross fire.”
“So I guess it’s just us,” Matt said.
Albert agreed. “That’s right. However, if TJ and I fail and Morpheus and his friends somehow beat us, then you and Shooter will have no choice but to go to the police and try to get them to believe your story.”
Shooter snorted. “Hah. Fat chance!” he said. “I can see it now, us talking to Boudreaux. ‘Hey, Chief. There’s this band of renegade Vampyres running around your city sucking the blood out of your citizens and, by the way, they’ve kidnapped our friend. Would you help us get her back?’ ”
Albert shrugged. “You’re right, Shooter, it won’t be easy. That’s why TJ and I won’t fail. We’ll get Sam back, I promise.”
“And what are Shooter and I supposed to do while you two go off to find her? Sit here on our thumbs?” Matt asked.
“No,” Albert replied. “We’ll keep in touch with you by cell phone and let you know every step of the way what we find out. Once we’ve located Morpheus’s hideout, we’ll tell you exactly where it is.”
“I still think I ought to go with you,” Shooter protested, sulking.
TJ put her hand on his shoulder. “No, sweetheart. Like Albert says, we need you here where you can call in the cavalry if we aren’t able to rescue Sam. Her life will be in your hands if we don’t succeed.”
Albert pushed a piece of paper across the table to Shooter. “Here are the names and addresses I got from Carmilla’s journal. The Sarah she referred to is Sarah Kenyon, and the Jean must be Jean Horla. According to her journal, Sarah lives with another female, Adeline Ducayne. That should give you all you need to get the police going if it becomes necessary.”
“OK,” Shooter said, reading the paper, “but I still don’t like it.”
TJ and Albert got to their feet
. “We’ll keep in touch, babe,” she said to him. “So keep your cell phone handy.”
When they got in Albert’s car, he turned to TJ. “How do you feel after your feeding last night?”
“Wonderful!” she said. “I feel so alive. It’s as if I’m ten years younger and full of pep and energy.”
He smiled, looking at her. She looked great, with a slight flush on her face and her skin radiant and glowing. “That’s good, because we’re going to need you at full strength when we go up against the others.”
“What are we going to do first?” she asked.
“I’ve got to stop by my place and pick up a few things we’re going to need, and I need to get some nourishment, too. I haven’t fed for almost a week and I’m starting to show signs of weakness and hunger.”
Her brow knitted. “Uh, how exactly do you plan to feed?”
He grinned. “Don’t worry. I don’t have some young female waiting to let me suck her blood. I have a supply of test tubes full of samples I’ve taken from patients over the last few months. I’ll use that to get up to speed.”
“Oh,” she said, relieved.
When they got to his apartment, he took her into the spare bedroom where he had a small refrigerator in a closet. He opened it and took out a rack of test tubes. One by one, he opened them and drank their contents until the rack was empty.
She noticed his face becoming flushed and his body beginning to change slightly into his Vampyre form as he drank. She was also able to pick up the emotional changes the feeding caused, including his increasing sexual desire.
She noticed him glancing at her, lust building in his eyes as he examined her body, staring at her breasts and legs as he drank.
“Are you going to be all right?” she asked, blushing under his ardent gaze.
He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, TJ, but as you can see, even this sterile form of feeding makes the hormones flow. I’ll be OK in a minute, just let me get it under control.”
Evidently, their strong mental bond caused TJ to respond to Albert’s desire, for she felt herself becoming increasingly lustful, too. She cleared her throat and turned away, walking out of the bedroom and into his living room. “I’ll, uh, I’ll wait for you out here, Albert,” she said, fighting the feelings and trying to think of the job ahead.
After a few minutes, Albert followed and seemed to have his emotions under control. He led her into his bedroom and opened his closet. He took out a pair of long swords in scabbards and handed them to her. “Here,” he said as he rummaged deeper in the closet.
“What are these?” she asked, examining the swords.
“Those are called katana, Japanese long swords,” he replied as he pulled a couple of one-gallon cans of gasoline from the closet.
“They’re razor sharp and are excellent for removing heads.” He pointed at the cans. “The gasoline is for after, to make sure the bodies stay dead.”
“Do you really think it’ll come to this?” she asked, a look of distaste on her face.
He nodded, his face serious. “Absolutely. Just remember Carmilla’s room when you get to thinking we can reason with these creatures. This has gone far beyond the talking stage. We have to consider we are at war with these people, and we can’t afford to think we can reason with them or take prisoners. This will be a fight to the death: ours . . . or theirs.”
They loaded the equipment in the car, putting the gasoline in the trunk but keeping the swords in the backseat within easy reach.
Once they were ready, Albert drove to the address listed for Michael Morpheus in Carmilla’s journal. He parked the car in front of the house and looked. The yard had several newspapers piled on the front porch and appeared deserted.
“It looks like he hasn’t been here for several days,” TJ said.
Albert agreed. “Looks like the next stop is Sarah and Adeline’s place.” He looked at her. “Let’s hope they’re home.”
Sarah and Adeline lived in a small house in a suburb of New Orleans called Oak Forest. It was a typical middle-class community, with small homes, sidewalks, and not an oak tree in sight.
Albert pulled the car a couple of houses down and parked it. He took one of the swords and handed another to TJ.
“Remember, keep your thoughts locked down tight. Vampyres can read your intentions as well as emotions, and that’s a definite disadvantage in a confrontation.”
TJ nodded and held the sword tight against her leg as they approached the house. “You ring the doorbell to get their attention and I’ll enter through the rear while you keep them occupied at the door,” he told her.
She walked up to the porch and he disappeared around the side of the house. She rang the bell and waited, trying to keep her mind blank.
The door opened a little and a young woman with tousled hair and a face puffy with sleep peered through the crack. “Yeah, what do you want?” she asked, covering a yawn with the back of her hand.
“Are you Sarah Kenyon?” TJ asked, holding the katana out of sight.
“No,” the woman answered, her expression becoming suspicious as she looked TJ up and down. “What do you want with Sarah?”
“Then you must be Adeline,” TJ said, stalling for time.
“Hey, don’t I know you?” Adeline asked harshly.
Before TJ could answer, Adeline was jerked out of sight. She uttered a soft scream as Albert grabbed her and threw her bodily up against a wall.
TJ quickly entered the house, shutting and locking the door behind her.
Albert was holding Adeline by the hair, her feet dangling a foot off the floor, the sword in his other hand with the blade against her neck. “Check the rest of the house,” he ordered TJ without taking his eyes off Adeline.
TJ slipped the sword out of its scabbard and held it in front of her as she quickly looked in all the other rooms.
“It’s clear,” she called, returning to the living room.
Adeline, her face screwed up in pain and her hands on Albert’s trying to get loose, began to Transform.
“Stop,” Albert commanded in a harsh voice, “or I’ll take your head off now!”
Staring at Albert through hate-filled eyes, Adeline stopped her Transformation.
“What do you want?” she asked, her voice now whining. “Sarah’s not here.”
“We don’t want Sarah,” Albert said, squeezing her neck until her face started to turn blue. “We’re looking for Michael Morpheus.”
“I don’t know any Michael . . . ,” Adeline began, until Albert reversed the sword and hit her between the eyes with the metal hilt.
Her head bounced back off the wall and an ugly blue bruise began to appear on her forehead.
Adeline’s eyes crossed momentarily and she almost passed out from the pain.
Albert jerked her downward and threw her flat on her back on the hardwood floor, bouncing her head again.
“He—he’ll kill me,” she wailed, no longer resisting his hold on her as her eyes flitted back and forth between TJ and Albert.
“Don’t worry about Michael,” Albert said in a nasty, cruel voice. “Worry about what I’m going to do to you if you don’t tell us where he is.”
“He’s at his bayou house,” she said, going limp and giving up. “Sarah went there to meet him.”
“How many of you are there with him?” Albert said, slightly relaxing his hold on her neck so she could talk.
“Sarah called and said she was taking the Ripper there to meet with him, so I guess there’s just the three of them,” Adeline croaked, her voice hoarse from the stranglehold Albert had on her.
Albert glanced over his shoulder at TJ at the mention of the Ripper. This greatly increased the odds against them. “How do you know the Ripper?” he asked.
“We followed him last night after one of his kills,” Adeline said.
“Where does he live?” Albert asked.
Adeline gave them an address in the French Quarter. Jesus, Albert thought with astonishment, that’s o
nly a couple of blocks from my house.
“How do we get to this bayou house?” he asked.
Adeline hesitated and Albert squeezed again, making her gag with pain. “You go out the interstate toward Liberty. Take the first right after the city limits sign. It’s a dirt road and it’ll take you right to his house.”
He put the blade against her throat. “If you’re lying to me, I’ll come back here and kill you,” he said.
“I’m not lying . . . I swear it!” she pleaded, her eyes wide with fright.
“Open your mind to me now!” Albert commanded, leaning so close his lips were almost on hers.
She closed her eyes and her face relaxed as she did as he ordered. After a moment, Albert leaned back. He glanced at TJ. “She’s telling the truth.”
“Good,” TJ said, “let’s go.”
Albert grinned and TJ saw him begin to change. “Not just yet,” he growled, looking up at her. “There are three of them there, TJ. We need an edge.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
He turned his attention back to Adeline, who was staring at him through fear-widened eyes. With a lightning-fast motion, he grabbed the front of her nightgown and ripped it from her body, exposing her sweating, heaving breasts.
Now fully into Transformation, Albert buried his face in Adeline’s neck and chewed through the skin, beginning to feed on her as she writhed beneath him, again attempting her own Transformation.
The sight of him feeding caused TJ to change, too. She dropped the sword she was holding and dropped to her knees beside Adeline as her fangs grew and her face melted into her Vampyre form.
With a growl deep in her throat, TJ fastened her fangs on the other side of Adeline’s neck and began to drink.
While she held Adeline down with her claws on the girl’s shoulders, Albert moved back and quickly shed his clothes. TJ could see out of the corner of her eye that he was fully erect. He stroked himself with his hand as he got between Adeline’s thighs and pushed them aside.
TJ stopped feeding and looked at him in astonishment.
“I’m sorry, TJ,” Albert growled in an almost unrecognizable voice. “It has been so long. . . .”
Dark Blood Page 26
