“I do,” Caleb said as he went inside the house. “I’ll share it with you. After you finish here.”
THE BLOOD WAS FINE, WONDERFUL.
Jelak could feel the clear zing of strength and endurance through his veins. The Selkirk woman had been as strong as he’d hoped. He’d chosen well. He’d been afraid when she’d fought with such fierceness that the blood might not be as mature as he’d hoped.
Children and young people usually were the ones who were frantic in their struggles. Age usually mellowed and caused death to come easier. But he’d found out to his delight when the woman was begging him to let her go that she had two children. Mothers usually fought desperately to keep close to their young, and motherhood only added richness to the Gift. At any rate, the blood was exquisite.
He went to the closet, pulled out his black Croco case, and set it on the bed. He hummed a little as he opened it and gazed down at the goblets he’d carefully wrapped in red velvet.
Three left.
But he wouldn’t need all three.
Margaret Selkirk had been better than he had hoped. He had expected her to give him strength to see him through until Jane MacGuire. She had given him more than that, and he might be able to go directly to Eve Duncan. He would know by tomorrow if Selkirk’s blood stayed strong in him.
He unwrapped one of the goblets. It shone in the lamplight, and he held it up. Jane MacGuire. That would make eleven guests at the table. If he needed to take her.
“I’m getting close,” he murmured. “Soon I’ll be one of you.”
He reverently unwrapped the last goblet.
The perfect twelve.
He lifted the goblet and felt the blood pounding through him as he looked at the carving. No single figure begging to be admitted. Complete. Together.
The perfect twelve at the feast.
“Do you feel me, Eve?” he murmured. “It’s your gift that’s going to save me. I’ll drink deep, then we’ll be together forever. You’ll like it. I know you’ve been waiting for me.”
His tongue touched the rim of the goblet, imagining the coppery taste of her blood.
“Just a little longer . . .”
BLOOD.
Eve suddenly tensed, her fingers hesitating on the clay of the reconstruction.
The dizziness had come out of nowhere, followed by that sinking, whirling sensation.
Then had come that weird feeling of being . . . drained.
She drew a deep breath.
It was gone.
Perhaps it had never been there, only brought on by her obsession with the thought of Jelak.
And blood. Always blood.
“Eve.”
She turned to see Joe at the front door. “Oh, I didn’t hear you drive up.”
“That’s pretty obvious.” His gaze was searching her face. “I’m used to you being absorbed in your work, but you look a little strange.”
“I’m fine.” She picked up her cloth and wiped the clay from her hands. “I just had a sudden chill.” She braced herself. “I thought you’d call me. I knew you wouldn’t like it that I sent Caleb down to Selkirk’s crime scene.”
“Not one bit.”
She shrugged. “I believe he can help. I couldn’t stand the thought of another woman being murdered. I heard on the news that she had two children.”
“A fifteen-year-old girl and a boy, ten.”
“And he didn’t care if he left them orphans. How are they holding up?”
“Not good. But Caleb had a talk with them, and they’re better than they were.”
Her eyes widened. “You let Caleb talk to them?”
“He was good with Patty’s grandfather. Maybe he’s some kind of psychologist. The kids needed someone, something.”
Her eyes were narrowed on his face. “But you let him do it.”
“I gave him his chance. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Joe.”
“Okay, I decided it’s what I wanted too.” He turned and went toward the bedroom. “So I told him to follow me home and that we’d talk. He should be here any minute. I’m going to shed this jacket and wash my face. Where’s Jane?”
“She went to see Patty. She thought she might be upset when she heard about Margaret Selkirk. Charlie Brand
