Blood Red

“Not exactly,” Mark corrected. “But I do have reason to believe that the crime may be associated with a man named Stephan??? who I believe is in this area now.”

“I see.” Canady’s hands were folded on his desk. “Sadly, Mr. Davidson, murder isn’t unusual. Nor is decapitation, though I admit it’s somewhat less common.”

“No.”

“So…?”

Mark took a deep breath. “There are a number of ancient beliefs that suggest decapitation will prevent someone from becoming a vampire. And there’s a modern belief that some vampires are careful to dispose of victims they aren’t entirely…sure of. Population control, if you will. Survival of the…”

“Hottest? Most clever?” Canady said.

The man must think he was an idiot, Mark realized. “Yes.”

Canady’s eyes didn’t flicker. He was either trying to humor him until the padded wagon bound for the asylum arrived, or…

Or nothing surprised him at all.

Or maybe…

He’d had previous experience with vampires.

“Your suggesting there’s a vampire loose in the New Orleans?” Canady said.

Mark shook his head. “No,” he said. Then he took a deep breath. “No, I’m suggesting there are several.”

“Look! He’s up again!” Deanna said triumphantly, looking at Lauren with sheer pleasure in her eyes. “The Creature from the Black Lagoon. Bonus, bonus, bonus!”

Deanna loved the slot machines with bonus features. Especially this one.

They had both wandered away from the craps table after losing far too quickly, leaving Heidi, had been making all the right bets, to play on her own.

Deanna and Lauren had scaled down to the penny machines, and though the stakes were low, they were winning.

“Isn’t that just great?” Deanna asked, pointing at the Creature. “Can you believe that movie actually frightened people?”

Lauren reflected on the question. “It was a long time ago. Before they could do the kind of special effects we have now.”

“I don’t think that creature would have frightened me, no matter what,” Deanna said, grinning.

“Cocktails?” an attractively and scantily attired waitress asked, interrupting their conversation.

Deanna looked at her watch. “Sure.”

“Remember sleepwalking?” Lauren asked softly.

Deanna waved a hand in the air. “It’s almost five o’clock.”

“It’s three o’clock.”

“Close enough. Rum and coke, please. And you, quit acting like my mom. This is supposed to be a wild weekend.”

“A light beer, please,” Lauren said.

“Wow. Going all out,” Deanna teased.

Lauren looked hard at her friend. Deanna was super-model gorgeous, with her height and exotic features and coloring. It was hard to mistake her for anyone else.

“You really didn’t go for a carriage ride today?” Lauren asked her.

Deanna stared at her. “No.”

“Where were you?”

“Where were you?”

“Looking for you.”

Deanna “I left Heidi trying on her twenty-fifth hat and wandered into a few stores.”

Lauren was sure she could see color suffusing her friend’s cheeks again.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Lauren asked.

Deanna shrugged. “I ran into that guy from the bar last night.”

“Oh?” Lauren felt a strange surge of unease. “That’s who I thought you were with in the carriage.”

“How strange,” Deanna murmured, then looked at Lauren again.

“What?” Lauren persisted.

“There was a carriage—well, there are lots of carriages in New Orleans—and I was tempted to take a ride, but then I saw Jonas.”

“Jonas?”