Part 33 (2/2)

Niles Goolighan lay in his cell, staring at the ceiling, regretting the fact he'd ever started believing in promises of a greater existence, power-and women. Frankly, it had been the promise that women would find him irresistible that had sewed it up for him. Cal had always been bigger, braver and more a.s.sertive. He'd just followed along. But now he was rotting in a jail cell. The attorney they'd been a.s.signed had suggested they might want to strike a deal; if they could give the cops information about who had killed two cops, they could get lighter sentences than they would receive if they were convicted.

He toyed with the idea. The information they wanted was really so simple.

A chill suddenly ran through him. He looked beyond the bars. A man stood there. He was tall, built like a brick s.h.i.+thouse. Strong features-he belonged in a movie about ancient Rome. Oddly he was dressed in a suit, the nondescript kind lots of attorneys wore.

”Niles.”

”Yeah?” he said curiously.

”I'm here to help you. Ask me in.”

”The guards have to let you in. They don't exactly give me a key,” Niles said, tired and wondering what the h.e.l.l the guy wanted.

He laughed suddenly. ”What the h.e.l.l. If you can do it, come on in.”

To his amazement, the iron door sprang open and the huge man walked in. He grinned, and Niles felt an icy terror curl around his heart. He sprang up, backed against the wall.

”You weren't thinking of betraying me, were you, Niles?” the man asked.

”Betraying you?” Niles felt his mouth fall open. ”Are you...real.”

The man smiled coldly. ”Of course I'm real. Here and in the flesh. And as for you...” He laughed softly. ”I need you, Niles. So even if you are a pathetic coward, I'm about to fulfill your fondest dreams.”

”No...I have no dreams,” Niles protested wildly.

He opened his mouth. He couldn't believe it; he was about to scream for the guards. Scream? Cry like a baby, more like it.

No sound ever left his lips.

The man was suddenly right there, right in front of him. He had eyes like fire, eyes that burned as they stared into his.

And he had fangs.

Real ones.

Niles heard the terrible crunching sound as the man bit deeply into his neck.

Then...

Nothing.

”So that's it?” Lucien DeVeau said as Jeremy and Nancy finished.

”We didn't understand how we had survived, until...until we got home and Mary...Mary died, and we found out who and...what Jessica and Bryan are,” Jeremy said. ”So,” Bryan said, rising and pacing, ”this is what I believe. The Master recently discovered who Jessica is and where she lives, and he planned carefully. When he found out she would be at the conference, he organized the party. He knew she'd come to find him.” He flashed a glance at Jessica. ”He didn't, of course, know she'd arrive as a dominatrix. And,” he added thoughtfully, ”I'm not sure he was aware I was trailing him, getting closer and closer, more and more aware of the way he worked. But when he came here, to her home turf, he had to have help. It's my guess that he's been creating havoc here for two reasons, to torture her, making her suffer, and to create a trap, so he can finally kill her. He never intended to be at the party here, but he knew we'd be there, and he'd have free rein to kill those cops and get to the morgue attendant. The thing is, he somehow knows what she's doing, and that means he managed to get to someone close to her.”

”How can you be so sure?” Jessica demanded. It was the first time she had spoken since Jeremy had described the night in Transylvania.

”I think he's right,” Lucien said.

Ragnor walked over to Jessica, bending down, taking her hands. ”Jessica, perhaps whoever it is never intended to betray you.

The Master's very powerful.”

Sean suddenly came striding into the room, and everyone fell silent. ”You're not going to believe this,” he said.

”What?” Jessica demanded.

”If you'll let me at the computer...”

Everyone moved away. Sean sat down and quickly pulled up a web site that promoted vampirism as a solution for those looking for something better in life: money, power, s.e.x, even a place to belong. As they all stared over Sean's shoulder, reading, he suddenly stood. ”It's coming,” he said. ”And since I've seen it once and I'm only human, I'm getting out of the line of fire.”

Frowning, Bryan peered more closely at the screen.

Then, in an instant, a blinding light flashed across the screen, followed by a red darkness, and then a face.

The Master's face. The words he spoke seemed to ring directly in the viewer's head.

Serve me. Welcome me. Bow down before me. Obey my every command.

Bobby Munro was exhausted. He'd worked back-to-back s.h.i.+fts, and he didn't know how many bar suppliers he had seen. He didn't know if they'd been straight with him, or if they had lied. But now, new teams were taking over and he had to call it a night.

Walking home, he pa.s.sed the bar where Big Jim played. He could use a drink. He walked in, ordered a beer and took a seat at a table in front of the band. Big Jim saw him and waved. Barry Larson grinned. Bobby smiled back, then closed his eyes. d.a.m.n, but he loved good jazz.

His head was pounding. The music helped, but all too soon the band went on break. Big Jim joined him at the table; Barry Larson followed. ”Tough day, huh?” Big Jim said.

”Yeah, must have been,” Barry added sympathetically. ”Two of your own guys. I was really sorry to hear what happened.

There's a real psycho on the loose, huh? I mean, they don't think those guys really killed each other, do they?”

Bobby stared at him. He didn't like him much. He followed Big Jim like a puppy and tried too hard to be a part of the group.

”No, they didn't kill each other,” he said.

”How are you holding up?” Big Jim asked. ”I'm okay. I could use a few long hours just lying in the sun somewhere with Stacey,” he said. ”But she's been busy lately.” He brightened suddenly. ”h.e.l.l, I'm only a few blocks from Montresse House. Why am I sitting here staring at you? I'm going to walk over and see her for at least a few minutes.” He rose, putting his money on the table. ”Get yourselves a couple of beers, huh?”

”Sure thing. Thanks, Bobby,” Big Jim said, grinning.

Feeling a lot more cheerful, Bobby started down Bourbon Street. There was a big crowd out that night. He loved to see his beloved home busy again.

His good mood faded a bit as he heard s.n.a.t.c.hes of conversation. People were talking about the maniac on the loose. About the dead cops. About the missing corpse.

About the force's in ability to stop what was going on. Inwardly, he groaned. He was caught up in his thoughts, barely aware that the crowd was thinning as he moved alone.

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