But Jonas was all right. He was stranding over an open coffin, his features twisted into a grimace of disgust.
“Ugh,” he murmured. “I hit a juicy one.”
Mark grated his teeth with impatience. “Move, and quickly. They’re waking up.”
While he was speaking, he was hastilyflipping open lids, mindless of the noise he was making. By the time they reached the last two coffins, the vampires were out and ready for battle. Jonas let out a cry of surprise when one caught hold of his shoulders and prepared to cannibalize him.
Mark drew out his water pistol of holy water.
The creature, struck, let out a cry like the Wicked Witch of the East. Mark shot again, but by then Jonas had gathered both his wits and his strength. He turned, his stake dripping blood from previous kills, and slammed it into the writhing creature.
Mark dealt with the last vampire the same way; a stream of water, followed by a fierce impaling.
“All right,” he told Jonas. “Go back now. Wherever the head is still attached, well, you know what to do.”
As they continued to work, Jonas asked, “How the hell is anyone ever going to explain this?”
“That’s Sean Canady’s department,” Mark said. “Apparently, he’s handled situations like this before.”
“Oh, God,” Jonas moaned again. “This is just gross.”
Mark stepped back, playing his light around the room. They had taken care of every coffin in the place and destroyed at least forty of the deadly creatures, but something was still wrong.
“I don’t know how he does it,” he said.
“What?” Jonas asked absently, working on the last corpse, “a juicy one,” as he called the younger vampires.
“This place…it’s a decoy,” Mark said. “These were Stephan’s sacrifices.” He stared at Jonas. “He wanted us to find this place—wanted
“Why?” Jonas asked.
“So he could be busy elsewhere,” Mark said angrily, and turned toward the stairs. He had to get back to Montresse House as quickly as possible.
No sooner had Maggie hung up than Lauren’s cell. She didn’t recognize the voice at first.
“Don’t speak to anyone. I don’t know where you are or who you ‘re with, but you have to come to me now. Do you understand?”
It was Susan, the fortune-teller, she realized
“No,” she said harshly.
She could hear a note of misery in the woman’s voice. Like a sob. But was it real?
“I’m the messenger, just the messenger,” the woman said. “He has Heidi. And he says he’ll kill her, and that her death will be on your head.”
Maggie was staring at her questioningly.
“It’s nothing,” Lauren lied.
“Come to the Square,” Susan said, then made a strange sound. A sound of pain, Lauren thought.
Don’t do anything stupid, don’t act insanely, she warned herself.
It was as if Stephan knew what she was thinking and was using Susan to make sure she knew it. “You can get help, maybe even eventually bring him down. But Stephan wants to know if that will really matter, because, if you don’t come now, Heidi will definitely be dead.”
She remembered her own dream. He had that power. He could enter the mind.
“What is it?” Maggie persisted.
“Nothing, just a call from back home,” Lauren lied.
She heard Susan’s voice again, a whisper this time. “Don’t come. He wants you, but you can’t give him what he wants. You—”
Susan’s voice suddenly broke off in a chilling, gasping sound. Lauren realized that Maggie was still staring at her and knew she couldn’t let her face betray her fear.
“You sure nothing’s wrong?” Maggie asked.
Lauren covered the phone. “A client’s are not happy with a project, that’s all,” she said, then returned her attention to the call.
But the phone had gone dead.
They were nearing Maggie’s Volvo, and Lauren realized she had to act fast, so she said, “Damn. I can’t find my wallet. It must have fallen out of my bag. I’ll be right back.”
She turned and raced back into the library.
Then out the back door.
The call came the minute they stepped out onto the broken-down porch. It was Stacey, and she was frantic. “I
