Chapter 6


Jessica had barely left, but it had seemed to Jeremy that he had been exhausted forever. He felt himself drifting off, then started, a sense of panic filling him as he realized he was not alone with Mary. There was a man in the room.

The man turned toward him, and Jeremy let out a breath of relief and stood. It was the professor, Bryan MacAllistair. He'd heard the guy was teaching in New Orleans, and any other time, he would have been at every lecture.

He'd heard him speak in Transylvania and been impressed. He'd even talked to him briefly before...before the night of evil, as he thought of it now.

And he knew that MacAllistair had talked to the police; during his own final interview with Florenscu, just before he'd headed home, the Romanian detective had been far more willing to listen. The policeman had never believed in real vampires, but something MacAllistair had said to him had made him pay more attention to Jeremy's assertions.

"Professor. Or doctor. What should I call you?"

"How about Bryan?" the man suggested, greeting Jeremy with a firm handshake.

"How are you doing?" Bryan asked him.

"Okay," Jeremy said. What a crock. He wasn't okay. He was going crazy.

"And Mary?"

"I'm feeling pretty good about her today," Jeremy said. "The doctor said earlier that her blood levels were stabilizing."

"Good."

Bryan walked over to the bed, touching Mary's forehead. Did he-like Jessica-move her hair around to get a good look at her neck?

"You stay here all the time?" Bryan asked.

"Mostly. Her folks come, and so do Nancy and some of the other kids. I don't know why, but I never leave her alone," Jeremy said.

"Because you're a good friend to her, that's why," Bryan said softly. Jeremy nodded and smiled, lowering his head and blushing a little. "I try to be."

"I'm going to stop by the nurses' station, but I'll be back." Jeremy was surprised by the way, despite his words, the professor stood by Mary's bed, looking deeply concerned.

"What is it?"

"There were some real crazies in Transylvania. I think you could use some help. I'll spell you later. I have to give a lecture tonight, but you need a little time away, too, so I'll come back after."

"That would be great," Jeremy said.

MacAllistair started to leave, then hesitated. "Hey, Jeremy."

"Yeah?"

"Has anyone been around who...well, who seems a bit strange?"

"Strange?"

"Anyone you feel...doesn't belong."

Jeremy frowned, but he gave the question careful thought. At last, he shook his head. "No. Not that I can think of. Hospital people. Family. Friends." He hesitated. "Why? Have you seen someone who seems strange?"

"I'm not sure," MacAllistair said. "Last night...never mind. I'm honestly not sure." MacAllistair glanced at his watch and swore softly. "I need to get going, but I'll be back. You take care. And if I can help, let me know."

"You bet."

MacAllistair left, and Jeremy sat down again.

Strange people?

In a way, Professor MacAllistair was strange, what with his questions and weird knowledge. Still, Jeremy liked him. Trusted him. Maybe he shouldn't. He was more disturbed now than he had been before the man's visit. He felt the need to stay awake, to figure it all out.

He was just so damned tired.

It was impossible not to doze off....

He blinked, trying to stay awake, but his chin fell to his chest. His eyes closed.

He tried hard not to sleep, because sleep brought dreams.

No.

Nightmares.

But even knowing they would come, he couldn't help himself.

He began to doze, a strange red mist entering his mind.

Darkness again.

Red darkness.

As she walked through the parking lot, Jessica felt irritated. She normally loved the night, loved the darkness and the strange shadows the clouds made in the sky. But it felt far too early to be so dark. And the color...

Impatiently, she strode forward, anxious to reach her car. She didn't like the way she was feeling, though, and she made a mental note to ask Sean if they could get an officer to watch over Mary. She hadn't imagined the girl would be in danger here, but...

Why not? With such a red sky, with a feeling of evil haunting her constantly now.

She was deep in thought, paying no attention to her surroundings. As she reached her car door, there was a flurry of action.

There was a split second when panic seized her. There had been so many times lately when she had been certain she was being followed.Stalked .

Times when she had felt darkness and shadows and the deep red, fetid breath of evil.

She knew instantly that this was something else when she felt metal against her back even as she heard the words "Drop the keys and your purse. And stand still. Be good, and we'll let you live."

Despite the warning, perhaps because she felt so on edge, she turned angrily to face them.

Her impatience worked. The man who had pressed the blade against her ribs backed away a step, next to his buddy.

She stared at them in disbelief. They were in black jeans and shirts-and capes. The one with the knife was gaping in shock at her boldness.

He had vampire teeth. Fake ones.Bad fake ones.

"Stupid bitch!" he said, glancing at his friend, and Jessica knew he was thinking that she'd seen their faces. A strange discomfort settled over her then, and she frowned. There was something oddly familiar about him, though she couldn't place him. He had long, greasy dark hair and more than five o'clock shadow, though his facial hair couldn't be described as an actual beard.

"Too bad," the second attacker said softly. "She's a pretty one."

Jessica inhaled, trying for calm. The teeth were fake, but the blade was plenty real.

"You're going to give vampires everywhere a bad name," she said dryly.

"We are what we are, we do what we have to do," the first one said.

"Oh, please," Jessica protested.

"Shut up. Just shut up," the second one said. He was lighter, and nowhere near as hairy. "We need your purse and just a taste of blood, lady. But if you don't shut up...well, things could get really nasty."

"Look, please. Right now you can drop the knife and walk away. Just walk away. Think about what you really are, who you really are, and save yourselves from a life in prison. Or worse," Jessica said softly. "If you leave now, I won't even report you to the police."

"What?" the first one said. He stepped closer to her. "You don't understand. Can't you feel it? Our time is coming. We will rule."

"You're never going to rule anything." she said firmly.

The second boy suddenly gasped. "She's that psychologist! I saw her picture in the paper. And you-remember, you-"

The one who had first accosted her looked uneasy. "Let's go," he said.

"Not on your life. She owes us some blood. A lot of blood." He grabbed the knife from his friend and pressed his body against her, the knife raised threateningly. Jessica controlled herself, remaining dead still. "You can still walk away," she whispered.

Before he had a chance to respond, he was suddenly ripped away from her, violently and in a flash. First he was there, and then he wasn't-he was sailing across the parking lot as if he'd been tossed by a giant. She gaped in shock, unable even to scream.

The attacker crashed hard into a car and slid down to the pavement.

The second boy, like Jessica, just stood there gaping.

Then she saw the source of her salvation. To her amazement, it was none other than Bryan MacAllistair. He was just straightening the sleeves on his tweed jacket.

The remaining attacker reached beneath his cape, producing another blade-a very respectable bowie knife. Jessica almost cried out, certain that MacAllistair couldn't respond fast enough to save her.

Casually, but with a look of annoyance, he shot a hand out, his fingers forming a vise around the boy's wrist, causing him to scream in pain. The knife dropped to the pavement.

"Call the cops, Jessica, please," MacAllistair said.

"I think you've handled the situation-"

"Call the cops."

She fumbled in her purse for her phone and dialed 911. The second would-be vampire wasn't concerned about his buddy on the ground. He started to back away, ready to turn and run. Jessica barely saw MacAllistair's arm shoot out, nabbing him by the back of the cape. He pulled him close, whispering into his ear, "Sit down, hands behind your head, and keep them that way until the cops show, or I'll break every bone in your body. One warning, and that's it."

The boy scrambled to do as he was told. MacAllistair stared at Jessica. "Are you all right?"

She nodded.

"Sure? You're not going to pass out or anything, are you?"

She knew she should be grateful he had shown up. But there was something so condescending, so patronizing, in his voice that she couldn't help a flare of temper.

"I'm fine. I never pass out, and I could have handled the situation on my own."

His brows drew together in a deep, surprised frown.

"You were going to talk your way out of this?"

"I was handling the situation," she repeated.

The sound of sirens split the air. As she stared at him, they heard the screech of tires and then the pounding of footsteps. Officers rushed up, weapons drawn.

"Here's one," MacAllistair announced. "The other one is by that car. They attacked this lady."

A man in uniform approached Jessica. "Are you hurt?"

"No. I'm absolutely fine, thank you."

"And you, sir?"

"Fine," MacAllistair said, his eyes still on Jessica.

And there they remained while the officers cuffed the toughs, asking Jessica and MacAllistair if they could come to the station to give statements. Another car drove up then, an unmarked police vehicle. Sean Canady stepped out with an air of authority, staring at the scene, looking sharply at Jessica.

"What happened?" he asked, running his fingers through his ink-dark hair.

"Two kids with knives," she said wearily.

Sean glanced sharply at MacAllistair. "Strange to see you here."

MacAllistair shrugged. "It's not strange at all. I came to check on the girl who got hurt in Romania."

Jessica's eyes widened. "Mary?"

"Yes."

"Why?" she demanded.

"That can wait. I need to know what happened here," Sean said, staring them down very effectively.

"I was attacked," Jessica explained. "Mr. MacAllistair happened to walk up at just the right moment."

Sean stared at Bryan MacAllistair. "Convenient," he murmured.

MacAllistair shrugged. "You know my interest in Mary. I had a few hours before my lecture. I thought I'd stop by and ask about her condition. Convenient? I suppose it was, though apparently my help wasn't necessary. It seems that Jessica intended to talk her way out of the situation." He glared at her sternly. "And let them go."

"What?" Sean demanded.

"Why are you working on a Saturday?" Jessica asked him, ignoring his question.

"Long story, and never mind. You were going to let the guys go?"

"I was hoping this was a stupid stunt, and they didn't need to have a criminal record," Jessica explained. She sighed. "Okay, sorry. I was wrong."

She looked past Sean, realizing suddenly just how stupid it would have been to let them go. It had been the very cheap vampire teeth, she decided, that had kept her from taking them seriously. She felt a chill. They might have gone on to really hurt someone else.

"Sean," she said suddenly and softly, not wanting Bryan MacAllistair to hear her. "Make sure...I need to know their names, their addresses, all that."

"Jessica, they're being arrested." Sean said. "We'll get all that. And you have to come in, too, because you're the victim."

"I'm not a victim."

"You were the attempted victim. And Professor MacAllistair was involved, too. You both need to make statements," Sean said, staring at her.

"You two know each other?" she asked, surprised.

"We just met," Sean said.

"I see." But she didn't see at all. She stared at her lodger with naked curiosity.

"I stopped by the station," he explained.

"Why?"

"Because I'm afraid you may have a dangerous cult at work here in New Orleans," MacAllistair explained.

She almost laughed out loud. "This is New Orleans. We have tons of voodoo practitioners, would-be vampires...you name it."

"I don't mean to cut this conversation short," MacAllistair said, "but I'm due at the university soon. If there's paperwork..."

"Yes, let's move," Sean said. He indicated his car.

"I have my own car," Jessica said quickly.

"I don't, but I'm sure my hostess will be happy to drive me," MacAllistair said.

Sean arched a brow; Jessica shrugged. She opened her car door. MacAllistair walked around to take the passenger seat.

As she followed Sean's car to the station, Jessica glanced in the askew rearview mirror at the man beside her. "I'm still confused. What do you have to do with Mary? Why were you visiting Sean?"

He stared straight at her, frowning. "What were you doing at the hospital?"

"Visiting Mary."

"Are you a relative?"

"No. I met her in Transylvania."

"You what?"

She exhaled impatiently. "I was at an international meeting. I happened to meet Mary and some of her friends. So what were you really doing visiting Sean?"

He was still staring at her. Suspiciously. She returned the glare. "Well?"

He lifted his hands. "It's what I do."

"What do you mean?"

"I know a great deal about pagan beliefs, cults and so on. The problem with anything like that is when people become fanatics. I'm sure you surely know that yourself. Mix up a few voodoo love spells and it's fun. Become convinced you're the servant of some devil or demon, and God knows what you'll get. Since my field is ancient beliefs, I've been involved in a few investigations where fanatics have taken something to the extreme and someone has gotten hurt. Since I'm afraid something similar may be happening here, I went and visited Sean."

She felt as if a frown had become permanently furrowed into her forehead.

"The road," he warned.

She realized she had been staring at him for too long and turned her attention back to her driving.

She felt her pulse pounding at her temples, felt the magnetism, and the sheer strength and size, of the man at her side.

She felt as if she would be happy if there were a ten-foot wall of concrete between them. And at the same time, there was a hint of...

She winced. He was frighteningly attractive. Entirely sensually, sexually attractive. He could walk into a room and make her forget all sense of respectability and just wonder what it would be like if...

There was a whisper of something about him. Something in the way he moved, in the way he looked at her. Something that compelled and seduced like...

She gave herself a shake. He was dangerous, she decided, if only to her peace of mind. The concrete wall was exactly what she needed.

At the station, they had to wait an uncomfortable amount of time. The two assailants had to be booked before she and Bryan could give their statements.

As soon as he was finished, Bryan MacAllistair hurried out.

Sean Canady stood with Jessica at the door as he left. MacAllistair didn't look back, but Jessica was certain he knew they were watching him.

"He was in Romania," she said.

"And all over Europe when parties like that one took place," Sean said.

"And he was there tonight, when I was attacked," Jessica went on.

"Right."

"It's awfully coincidental," she pressed.

Sean turned and studied her. Then he said softly, "The same could be said about you, Jessica."

She frowned, staring at him, but before she could speak, she was startled by someone hurrying up behind her. She whirled, instantly alarmed, then let out a breath of relief.

It was just Bobby Munro.

"Jessica, word got around. You were attacked? Are you all right?" he asked anxiously, taking her into his arms for a quick hug.

"I'm fine." she assured him.

He backed away, looking a little abashed. "Sorry, Lieutenant Canady. I just heard what happened."

"It's all right, Bobby," Sean assured him.

Bobby looked at Jessica worriedly again. "You're sure?"

"Bobby, I'm fine."

"Professor MacAllistair made an appearance, and I think the toughs are pretty damned sorry," Sean explained. "Not, mind you," he said, grinning as he caught Jessica's glance, "that our Ms. Fraser is not a most capable woman."

"Yeah, but those two...they were detained just a few days ago," Bobby said.

"Oh?" Jessica said, startled.

"Cal Hodges and Niles Goolighan. We couldn't hold them, couldn't prove anything. But we brought them in for questioning. One of the nurses at the hospital thought they might have been prowling around."

"That was these two?" Sean said frowning.

"Yes. They were in a lineup, but the nurse couldn't make a positive identification, so we had to let them go. They had a lawyer in here screaming about their rights."

"They won't be getting out this time," Sean said firmly.

"Anyway, my shift's over and I gotta get going. I have a side job tonight." He flushed. "I've been taking a bunch of them lately. Trying to save up some money. It's all right, isn't it?" he asked Sean.

"Yeah. Sure."

"Well, Jessica, I just wanted to make sure you were really all right," Bobby said. "So...night."

"Night," Sean and Jessica chorused.

When he was gone, Sean murmured. "Great. Those two were prowling around the hospital before."

"Could they have been...after Mary?" Jessica wondered aloud. "That can't be. They're just a pair of idiots."

"You need to be careful," he said simply.

"Sean, I am careful."

"I meanreally careful."

She gasped suddenly.

"What?" Sean asked.

"I think...how stupid of me," she murmured, irritated with herself.

"What?" Sean asked again in exasperation.

"I've seen one of them before. In fact, I've more than seen him."

"Which one? Where? And what do you mean?"

"At the college...about a year ago. There was a symposium going on. I didn't recognize him at first because he's grown his hair...but I wound up talking to him at one point."

"What was the symposium about?"

"Occultism in New Orleans. Cal was there. I'm sure of it. I can't believe it's took me so long to realize why he looked familiar."

"You meet tons of people."

She shook her head. "No, you don't understand. I did more than just talk to him. He made it clear he didn't want to talk to a woman about what was bothering him, so I set him up with a male colleague, Dr. Darnell. But in our conversation, he told me that his folks were dead, and he was saddled with a little sister. Sean, I called social services about the situation. They took the sister away."

"You think he attacked you because of that?"

"No, that's the weird thing. He was grateful she was taken away. She went to live in the Midwest with an aunt, and I guess she's much happier, too. Sean, this is disturbing."

"You were attacked. Of course it's disturbing."

"Look, in Transylvania, I knew the kids involved. Now I've been attacked and I know one of my attackers. I would have sworn he was a basically good kid, so this...doesn't make any sense."

"Jessica, you can't save the entire world. Cal and Niles are punks. Sometimes people are bad and there's nothing you can do. I don't think you should be worried that every bad thing that happens centers around you."

"I don't think that."

"The fact that you knew one of the kids who attacked you is probably just a coincidence."

"Probably. But...what if thereis a connection? Sean, do you have some men you can assign to the hospital? Men to watch over Mary?"

"You mean you really think those two might have been after Mary? That's a little far-fetched, don't you think?"

"Nothing is too far-fetched."

"These two will go to jail and stay there," Sean assured her.

"What if they get out on bail?"

"I'll get the D.A.'s office to see that they don't," he promised.

"Sean, even having been there in Romania, I didn't imagine that anything this bad would happen here. It never occurred to me that something like that would follow us back here to New Orleans. But now, as bizarre as it seems, I do think that New Orleans is slated for...."

"For what? Jessica, what's going on here? What are you thinking?"

"I'm really frightened for Mary. I should have been from the start. But I thought she'd be okay, that it was over, that we'd come home, that...evil had moved on. I didn't realize it might have moved on to my own home. I should have been concerned from the second I returned."

"You sound as if you're blaming yourself."

"Well...."

"Okay, we need to see to it that Mary is guarded. Help me out here. What, precisely, do you suggest I tell my men they're watching out for?" He shook his head. "I'll definitely have to hire off-duty guys. I won't be able to explain this one to the city. I take it you want someone there right away?"

"Yes."

"Too bad Bobby already has a gig tonight," Sean muttered.

"There are other good cops."

"Yeah, I know. Give me a few minutes."

Sean went back inside. Jessica waited.

When he returned he said, "I'll have a guy over there within the half hour."

"That long?"

"To drive over, park, get to the floor?" he said, staring at her. "Twenty to thirty minutes. My guys are only human."

"Maybe I should head back over myself?"

"An officer will be there just as quickly as you can get there."

She sighed. "I guess you're right."

"So what's wrong?"

"I just should have thought of it before," she murmured. Then she grimaced at Sean. "So...should we head over to his lecture?"

Jeremy had been awakened several times. The nurses had been in and out.

Mary's folks had been and gone, her father insisting her mother had to spend time with the rest of the family, too.

The doctor had been in, and the news had been encouraging.

Mary was holding her own. Even though the doctors couldn't understand why her blood platelet count wasn't completely stabilized, it was getting there.

Jeremy had decided he wasn't leaving that night, even though everyone seemed to think she was out of the woods. His mind was in such turmoil that he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, anyway.

He would just keep waking up, thinking he should be here.

So he watched reruns on TNT. He talked to Mary now and then, and made himself comfortable on the visitor's chair. He'd already drifted in and out of sleep several times. He didn't want to sleep, but he couldn't fight it.

Sleeping brought on dreams.

And the dreams were always the same.

He was back in the old ruined castle in Transylvania. Watching, paralyzed, forced to see the scene replay over and over again, except in his dream, he was watching the film again, but it was playing on the hospital television set.

Mary was there, but not in the bed, on the screen. She was awake and smiling, at the mirror and unafraid. She was brushing her hair, her movements sensual. She turned, knowing that someone...something...was in the room.

Jeremy felt the leaden darkness, like something that sat on his chest, stealing his breath, stealing his resolve, his thoughts...his humanity. Whatever had entered the room wasevil .

But Mary welcomed the presence. She turned, as sensual as a cat, eyes hooded, wicked, waiting. She longed for the touch of darkness. The breeze came, lifting her hair, baring her throat, her breast. The gossamer gown drifted low.

She ripped the cross from her neck.

He struggled to awaken, to stop her.

The shadow moved closer, enveloping her. She lifted her chin, rapture in her eyes. She waited....

No, no, no, it was a dream.

"No!" He cried the word aloud, startling himself awake.

The television had gone to static.

He jerked his head around. Mary was still in her hospital bed. He looked across the room, feeling a cool breeze, as if the windows had been opened.

A chill had entered the room. Not from the too-efficient air-conditioning.

This was a different kind of chill.

But no windows were open. They were sealed shut, he reminded himself, probably to keep patients from jumping.

He realized then that the door to the hallway was ajar.

He looked at Mary. Her eyes were opened, but she was staring straight ahead, as she always seemed to do now.

But something was different.

His blood turned to ice as he realized what had changed.

Mary was smiling.

He stood, walking to her side, taking her hand. She didn't protest; she just kept smiling.

"It's all right," he assured her.

It was then that he noticed her silver cross, the chain broken, lying on the floor. A tap at the door made him jump.

A police officer was standing there. "Hey, son, I just wanted you to know I'm out here, if you need anything," the man said.

He was a big guy.

With a heavy silver cross only half-hidden beneath his uniform.

Jeremy nodded. "Thanks, but why are you here?"

"Lieutenant said his friend, some psychologist, was worried about you all. So I'm here. And everything is going to be okay."

"Sure."

Jeremy wondered why he was so certain that everythingwasn't going to be okay, that in fact it had already gone straight to hell.

And Mary just kept smiling.