Vampire - Kiss Of Darkness Part 14

"But you went to the station to see Sean. And you're staying at Jessica's place. What a coincidence," Maggie said, staring at him.

He shrugged, leaning forward slightly, not letting his gaze slip from hers. "I believe there's going to be trouble here," he said flatly.

"Trouble?" she arched a brow. "Are you bringing the trouble?"

Hardly a discreet question. He leaned back, grinning. "No, ma'am. I don't bring trouble."

"But you do follow it?" Jessica asked softly.

He turned to her. "I haven't come here hiding anything," he said, as if he knew they all suspected him of having done just that.

"I've explained several times-"

"Not to me," Maggie said politely.

"No, nor to me, not really," Jessica agreed.

He glanced apologetically at Sean. "Because of my expertise in ancient beliefs, and the way they're often twisted in the present, I've been able to help the police solve cult-related murders in several countries. A number of them have been a.s.sociated with parties like the one several local students attended in Romania recently. Rumor has it that New Orleans is the next city on the circuit, that celebrities will show up, that it's going to be very wild and s.e.xy."

"There's a s.e.x party coming to New Orleans?" Jessica asked. She looked at Maggie, shrugged and turned to him, speaking dryly.

"What a shock."

"It's a little more than that," Bryan said. "There's talk of something dangerous. Vampires. Latex and leather."

Jessica stood suddenly. "More coffee, anyone?"

"I'm fine, thanks," Maggie murmured.

"So? Such a party is hardly uncommon," Sean said.

"There's a big party this fall at one of the big hotel chains," Maggie said. "I heard some women talking about it the other day in the shop. It's got a bondage theme. That kind of thing goes on all the time."

"There's something called the Voodoo Ball this Friday night," Jessica added. "One of my patients is a dancer. She's part of the entertainment."

"You can buy just about any kind of entertainment on Bourbon Street," Sean said.

"What went down in Transylvania was hardly your usual party," Bryan told them bluntly.

Silence.

"These parties are all about the vampyr," he said.

Jessica's cup clinked against her saucer.

"Well, people who think they're vampires," Maggie said after a minute, but her voice sounded strange. "I think Jessica might be of some help on that subject," Bryan said.

"What?" Jessica demanded, shocked, staring at him.

He smiled. "Sorry. I meant you talk with young people all the time. And then there are the two who went after you this afternoon."

She waved a hand in the air. "Hey, this is New Orleans. There are flocks of Anne Rice fans all over town. There are-"

"There are those who play at the fantasy," Bryan said.

"Yes, of course," Jessica agreed. She seemed annoyed. "I understand what you're saying, and it's true that people's beliefs, however misguided, can make them dangerous."

"You have talked to some of them, right?"

"Them...?"

"People who think they're vampires. The ones who literally practice blood rituals, and the ones who think they're spiritual vampires, sucking the life force from others."

She nodded.

"Then I would think, if something was stirring on the breeze, you'd know."

Jessica shook her head. "Like I said, there's always something like that going on around here."

"Wouldn't you know if it was something more serious? Like the situation in Transylvania."

"Actually, I think Transylvania might have been some kind of ma.s.s hysteria-" Jessica began.

"A girl almost died. May still be dying," Bryan said.

Maggie rose abruptly, going for the coffeepot. "That poor girl isn't doing any better?"

"She's holding her own," Jessica said. "A friend of hers, Jeremy, stays with her constantly."

"People were meant to die at that party," Bryan said. "I'm sure of it."

Sean leaned forward. "Okay, so someone is throwing parties where the guests are invited to be the entree by people who are either rich, perverted and sick, and believe that they're carrying out some ancient ritual, or people who are simply perverted s.e.xual killers, or..."

"Or?" Bryan said.

Sean shrugged. "Or vampires."

"Why would they come here?" Jessica demanded.

Bryan stared at her. "It's a good place to hide in plain sight. You just said so yourself," he told her.

"I didn't say that," Jessica protested.

"Yes, you did. Who would really notice another weirdo walking around in a cape?"

"He's got you there," Sean pointed out. Bryan realized both he and Sean were staring at Jessica thoughtfully. And she knew it.

"You're both making me really uneasy. You know I have a professional obligation, both legal and moral, to keep my sessions confidential."

"Yes, but...if you know about something dangerous, you have to let us know," Sean said.

Bryan tried not to show his appreciation for the fact that Sean had used the word us. At least in this, the cop had accepted him, even if only on a subconscious level.

"I'd never let anything bad happen, not if I could stop it," Jessica said. She picked up her cup and a few of the plates on the table.

"It's getting late. Thanks, Maggie, this was great, especially on the spur of the moment and all."

"My pleasure," Maggie said. She stood, setting a hand on Jessica's arm. "Hey, leave it. I'll get it."

"But-"

"Tomorrow's Sunday. A lazy day."

"You'll still wake up with three kids," Jessica said.

"It's a few dishes. I'll whip them into the dishwasher while Sean drives you back into the city."

"I brought my car. Sean doesn't have to go anywhere."

"In that case, between the two of us, I think we can pick up a few plates."

"All right, then...thanks again."

Bryan stood, reaching out a hand to Maggie. "A pleasure to meet you. And thanks for the pecan pie."

Maggie thanked him, carefully freeing her hand. "My pleasure. I look forward to seeing you again."

Though the last was said very pleasantly, he wondered if there wasn't a little bit of a warning in the words, as well.

As he followed Sean, who escorted them to the door, he could hear Maggie and Jessica whispering. He knew d.a.m.ned well they were talking about him, but he pretended not to hear anything.

As they drove, Jessica asked him, "Do you know New Orleans, then?"

"Yes," he said.

"So you've been here before?"

"Yes."

"Before Hurricane Katrina, I take it?"

"Yes, before Katrina."

He looked at her, trying to see her face in the shadows that intermingled with the neon lights of the city.

She looked out the window. "It's an incredible place, and it's doing well now," she said, almost angrily. Doing well. Just what did she mean by that? Stores were open, people were working and music was flowing?

Or that it was filled with the customary good and bad of humanity, but not something that was...pure evil?

Again he felt the stirring of memory, of a longing that lingered like pain. There was something about her that seemed to arouse not just his senses, but a darkened place deep in his soul.

Without talking, they drove slowly along the streets of the French Quarter, then into her driveway, where they exited the car.

Her fingers seemed to have lost coordination as she turned the key in the lock. "I loved your lecture," she said into the silence.

"Not just your material but your delivery."

"Thanks. I've had a lot of practice," he told her.

She nodded. She'd gotten the door open at last.

The house was filled with silence and shadows when they entered. Another awkward moment followed, neither are knowing quite what to say.

"Thanks for the invitation to Sean's house. It was nice getting to know your friends, and I appreciate Sean's trust in me."

She tipped her head at an angle. "You are worthy of trust, I hope?"

"I swear I am."

She faked a yawn. "Well, good night, then."

"Good night."

They started up the stairs together. Stopped. "I'm sorry," he said. "After you."

"No, no, you're the guest here. After you."

He laughed then, and caught her hand. "It is a wide staircase."

Her lashes fell, and then she looked up at him. Eyes were supposedly the window to the soul, he thought, and she had beautiful eyes. They were filled with pa.s.sion and strength, and with a strange vulnerability, as well. Where he touched her, his hand seemed to burn, his blood to boil. He felt the strangest longing to tell her, "I would die for you."

Ridiculous.

His laughter faded. "Plenty of room for both of us," he said, seeking nonchalance, but the words were husky with pa.s.sion instead.

"Of course," she said, easing her hand from his.

Their footfalls matched. They reached the hallway.

"Good night," she murmured, but she didn't move.

"Good night," he replied.

She was the one who finally managed to step away.

"Tomorrow," he managed lightly, and went into his room. "Tomorrow," she said, and walked past.

In his room, he stripped and headed for the shower, thinking that the old wisdom was right, the flesh was weak!