Blood Red (15 page)

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Authors: Heather Graham

BOOK: Blood Red
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After all, she was giving up other men forever, hence this erotic dream about a man on the television.

But now he was telling her to get up. To go to the window and let him in.

Of course, she wasn't really doing it. Seriously, what man came to a hospital window? And how could she really be up and opening it, letting him in…?

Letting him do things to her.

Sexual things…

While Deanna lay comatose on the bed.

8

L
auren signed the registration cards for the inn and left feeling filled with energy, determined to find the fortune-teller at Jackson Square.

But she realized, after walking around the square several times, that apparently many of the people who worked the area didn't show up until later, probably not until dusk, at least.

More upsettingly, she had the feeling she was being followed, even though it was broad daylight. The sun was strong, the air warm, and there was a slight breeze off the river. The world seemed calm, normal.

But it wasn't.

She returned to the hospital, thinking that Heidi was probably ready to wring her neck.

But Heidi wasn't irate in the least.

She was sleeping in the chair by the bed when Lauren arrived. She didn't wake up until Lauren touched her, and then she flushed and stretched, and seemed disoriented.

“Hey, how's she doing? Has anyone said anything?”

Heidi seemed a little flustered when she replied. “Um…yes, actually. The last nurse who came in here said that her vital signs are strong and that she's doing well. She hasn't come to yet, but she seems to be resting comfortably and I guess the doctors are pleased with her progress.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be gone so long.”

“Were you gone long?” Heidi asked.

“Yes. But the new place is gorgeous.”

“So was the old place,” Heidi pointed out.

“You'll love Montresse House. I promise,” Lauren assured her.

Heidi shrugged. “It's what you wanted.”

“Thanks for humoring me.”

“Some slave you are.”

“Sorry.”

Heidi frowned for a moment. “There's still a cop in the hall, right?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Think we could go to lunch together? We missed breakfast, and I'm starving.”

Lauren hesitated. It was broad daylight, she reminded herself. Deanna was in a hospital, with a cop right outside her door. “Want to grab something in the hospital cafeteria?”

“Not really, but okay.”

In the hallway, Lauren saw that the officer on duty was about fifty and appeared to be of French or Hispanic descent. He had a trustworthy face, a little haggard, but gentle and reassuring. When she told him they were going to grab a bite to eat together, he said, “Good idea. I'll sit inside with your friend. You take your time.”

Lauren thanked him, noticing a heavy gold chain around his neck. “Crucifix?” she asked.

“Uh—yeah, actually.” He drew it out from beneath his collar. “A gift from my missus. I always wear it. I like yours, too.”

“So you
are
wearing Mark's cross,” Heidi teased.

Lauren offered her a vague smile and thanked the officer.

In the cafeteria, they discovered that the hospital offered a pretty decent salad bar. They filled their plates, then sat down at a table.

“I really am sorry that your party has gone south. Mostly, I'm worried about Deanna, though,” Lauren said.

“Oh, don't worry. I think that not being able to party hearty has been a good thing. I've had time to think about what I'm doing,” Heidi said lightly.

“What do you mean?” Lauren asked.

Heidi shrugged. “I've been rethinking the entire marriage thing,” she said.

Lauren, with a small wedge of lettuce halfway to her lips, froze. “What?” she said in astonishment.

“Marriage. I don't know if I'm ready.”

“Heidi, your wedding is two weeks away.”

“I know.” Heidi, unconcerned, adjusted her napkin on her lap.

“Heidi, you love Barry.”

“Well, of course, I love him.”

“Then…?”

“I've just been thinking. I'm not sure I'm ready.”

“But you were so certain.”

“There you go. Things change.”

“Have you talked to him? Did you two get into an argument or something?” Lauren asked, perplexed.

“No, I wouldn't dream of fighting with him over the phone, and anyway, we don't have fights. Disagreements now and then, but no big fights.”

“Have you talked to him at all?”

“Not since yesterday.”

“Then what…?”

”I'm just not sure I'm really ready for marriage.” She flushed, staring at Lauren. “If you must know, it's occurred to me that I'm not entirely positive I'm ready for a sexually monogamous life.”

Lauren just stared at her blankly. “Uh…well….”

“We don't need to discuss it,” Heidi snapped.

“Okay.”

Heidi set her fork down. “I'm not really hungry after all. Since you're here now, I think I'll head out. I'll go and make sure that we didn't leave anything at the old place and check out the new one. Okay?”

Heidi wasn't really asking; she was leaving. That was that.

“Okay.”

Lauren wasn't sure that Heidi even heard her. She was already walking out.

Lauren discovered that she wasn't hungry herself and felt a sudden urge to get back to Deanna as quickly as possible.

She rushed back upstairs.

The friendly officer was still in the room. He blushed when she caught him reading Heidi's bridal magazine.

“Some really pretty pictures in there,” he said. “My wife and I eloped to Vegas. Sometimes I think I cheated her out of a real wedding.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Twenty-six years.”

“I guess she was happy with what she got, then,” Lauren assured him.

He smiled. A happy man. Feeling that maybe the world
would
be all right, Lauren took a seat at the foot of Deanna's bed.

The officer remained with her, and she never even noticed herself dozing off, but. the next she knew, he was nudging her and telling her that the shift was changing.

She woke, blinked and realized it was twilight.

Lauren wasn't sure if she would really have left Heidi alone at the hospital all night in her determination to find the fortune teller, but luckily she didn't have to worry about it, because Heidi reappeared in time

Lauren‘s head was still reeling.

Deanna was holding her own, but Heidi's behavior was beyond peculiar. She had returned to the hospital in a very pleasant if somewhat…fey mood. Not a word Lauren usually used, but it was one that seemed to describe the way Heidi was acting. She had mentioned avoiding several calls from Barry, and said blithely that Deanna was going to be just fine and she would be happy as a little lark to stay with her and watch television or read for the evening. When Lauren promised that she would return as soon as she could, Heidi told her not to worry.

Lauren couldn't help but feel a little uneasy about leaving Heidi in charge, so to speak, then told herself that she was being ridiculous. There was a cop on constant duty at the door, and he was certainly capable of protecting both women if there should be any need.

After leaving the hospital, Lauren found the nicest taxi driver in the world and asked him to take her to Montresse House, because she'd decided to pick up a light jacket before hitting Jackson Square. The driver was a native of the area and sympathized with her for having a friend being in the hospital. Healso believed in the occult and told her that she should buy herself some serious mojo to protest against evil.

She thanked him while privately thinking there was no need to get carried away.

Unfortunately, as nice as he was, he wasn't able to get her all the way to Montresse House or even to Bourbon Street. There had been an accident, and the streets were blocked off. He apologized profusely but suggested she get out a few blocks away and walk.

Lauren did, though she wasn't sure exactly where she was. There were people around, and there were lights, and she wasn't particularly worried. As she walked, she kept going over everything they'd done since arriving in the city.

A chill seemed to wrap itself around her suddenly, and she stopped walking. Frowning, she paused, looking around. The street was lined with old residences, with only a few storefronts here and there, and most of them were cafes that only served by day. Magnificent houses sat behind high walls, with bushes lining the sidewalk for added privacy,, and it seemed they had all begun to rustle.

She quickened her pace.

Then she stopped.

Someone had stepped out from behind a high brick wall. Someone who was tall and formed a dark silhouette against the night.

She could hear the distant sound of traffic.

Laughter.

Even music.

She stood dead still. A breeze wafted by, strangely cool. She became aware that she was alone on the street. Doors and gates were closed. She wasn't far from Bourbon Street, but she might as well have been at the end of the world.

The silhouette wasn't moving, exactly, or at least not in any way she could identify, yet it seemed to be coming closer to her, almost floating just inches above the sidewalk.

Then, suddenly, the dark figure became a man, just a man. Tall, mid-thirties, athletic build, dark. He wore black jeans, a black polo shirt and a casual jacket. His hair seemed to be darker than the night.

And his eyes…

They might have been black, too.

Except there seemed to be some kind of a glowing golden light in them.

She told herself to move, to quicken her pace; to hurry past the man, then realized for the first time she was standing dead still.

And he was smiling as he approached her.

She could hear the blare of a horn from somewhere, but it might as well have come from another world. It was followed by the plaintive sound of a jazz chord.

But it was so far away.

“Hello.”

Her heart seemed shudder as he spoke. She didn't understand why she wasn't moving. It was as if her limbs had become paralyzed. She was furious with herself. What the hell was the matter with her?

His voice was deep and smooth. She wondered if that was part of what held her so firmly where she was. But she had been standing still, just waiting, before he had spoken.

She didn't reply. She just stared at him, and he stared back.

“I've been looking for you,” he said.

He'd been looking for her?

Ridiculous. She'd never seen him before. Or had she? At that moment, she knew that she
had
seen him before; she just couldn't place where or when.

To her amazement, she managed to speak. “I don't know you,” she said. If she tried really hard, she thought, she could probably move.

“But
I know you
. And you will remember me in time.”

It was the worst pick-up line she'd ever heard, she thought.

“Excuse me, I have to get going,” she murmured, and moved an arm.

She could move!

But when she managed a step, he was suddenly directly in front of her, even though she hadn't seen him move.
It was as if he had floated there.

She stared into his eyes. They were gold. No, they were dark. No, there was some kind of fire that seemed to glow from within them.

That was it. She really had lost her mind.

“This time,” he said softly, “I have the advantage. I will not lose you again.”

She opened her mouth to speak. She wanted to protest that he couldn't lose what he didn't have.

But the fire in his eyes was so bright….

The cross, she thought. The silver cross. If she could just produce it…

No, that would mean that she believed in vampires, and that was ridiculous.

Besides, she couldn't move her arms again. She was held by the fire in his eyes. She willed her hand to move, pleaded with her body to function….

She found the cross with her fingers and drew it out from under her shirt.

A flash of fury seemed to tear through his eyes.

He opened his mouth.

His teeth weren't yellowed; they weren't horrid, rank or dripping with gore.

They weren't teeth at all.

They were fangs.

She willed herself to back away. Because now he was coming right at her, furious at the sight of the cross. He started to reach out for her, as if he were in pain but planning to endure that pain. He was going to seize her cross and rip it from her neck.

And that was when Mark appeared.

She didn't know where he had come from; he was just suddenly there.

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