“I rather hope not. It’s tricky when you kill an entire police force,” he said conversationally.
“You know that the police here know exactly who and what you are,” she told him.
“You’re stalling for time,” he said softly. “You’re waiting for Mark to come to your rescue, like a hero of old, riding up on a white charger. But surely you know the truth by now. I have been maligned. He is the liar, the evil one.”
“Somehow, I just don’t believe that.”
He shrugged. “You will.”
To Lauren’s surprise, she was startled by the sudden glow of headlights. She turned around, shielding her eyes.
The taxi had arrived.
Stephan lifted his arms. Like zombies, Deanna and Heidi walked toward the car. Lauren stared at Stephan with mistrust.
“Speak to the driver yourself, my dear. But you will hand me that water gun, and then you and I will walk inside together. If not, the cab—and your friends—will not be allowed to leave.”
Her fingers itched, but she didn’t dare pull the trigger. Five of his goons were still grouped around him. She knew that none of them would think a thing of killing the driver and the girls.
She walked with Stephan over to the cab. “The ladies need to get back to Bourbon Street,” Stephan said pleasantly, producing a large bill. “Get them there safely, please.”
He made sure that the back door was properly closed, then patted the top of the cab. It drove off.
Lauren felt the gun twisted from her hand.
“Let’s go in.”
She still had the cross around her neck, she reminded herself.
And the toothpicks.
She was in the monster’s lair, and all she had were toothpicks.
Mark arrived just in time to see the two girls get into the cab, then watch Stephan put his arm around Lauren and lead her toward the house.
He held still, desperate to control himself; if he wanted to save her, he couldn’t behave rashly. That was what Stephan was counting on. If he played his hand too quickly, he would lose.
He had to be careful not to betray himself; he didn’t want Stephan’s goons knowing he was there. He had to get into the house.
As he waited, he got a look at the taxi driver and cursed silently.
The driver wasn’t really a man at all. Not in the customary sense of the word. Lauren had just sacrificed herself so that Heidi and Deanna could become a gourmet meal….
He cursed fate, but just as Stephan knew
Then he went after the cab.
She still had the cross, Lauren thought, but she didn’t dare touch it; she didn’t want Stephan to remember that she was wearing it around her neck. She prayed that when the ambulance had reached Susan, the woman had managed to speak and tell someone where Lauren had gone.
“Come in, come in,” Stephan said welcomingly, as if she had finally agreed to a date, and he meant to do his charming best to seduce her.
She entered the house. The glow inside came from candles set in holders on the floor. There was nothing else, not a stick of furniture, in sight.
But there were more shadows. The sound of whispering. The flutter of wings.
Suddenly the ceiling came alive. With a sinking heart, Lauren realized that at least twenty or thirty more vampires were hiding in the dark confines of the house.
“The basement is my real domain,” he told her. “I think you’ll find it quite inviting.”
“Really? I find a beach in bright sunlight inviting, actually,” she told him.
He smiled at that. “You’ll see.”
He waved his hand, and the empty room seemed to come to life as shadows dropped to the floor and fluttering wings became feet against hard wood.
“Go,” Stephan said.
And they all began to move, taking up defensive positions outside.
“Downstairs,” Stephan invited her, opening a door. There was light coming from the basement—more candles, she thought.
She walked down the stairs. She would be alone with him down there, she thought. Maybe the chance to kill him would somehow arise.
And maybe he would cease teasing and playing; maybe his fangs would sink into her throat at any second.
She banished the thought and tried to focus on escape.
