“I swear, I almost lost Barry, and there’s no way I’ll let that happen, especially now that I know what I’m up against. I’ll be ready for anything that comes my way, I promise.”
Lauren watched Heidi disappear into her room, then headed for her own.
She took a long shower, with plenty of hot water, before dressing in a soft knit nightgown and curling up in bed.
The silence of the house seemed to weigh on her, and she realized that she was listening. Waiting.
Listening for the sound of wings, fluttering in the night. Waiting in fear.
It was exactly what he wanted, she thought. He had been at the hospital. He had wanted to prove that he could go anywhere, that he could injure them when they didn’t even know they were vulnerable. And that he did want her.
Why?
Because she looked like Katie?
It was all so ridiculous.
She got up and decided to read the article Susan had given her one more time. But she still didn’t understand what the seer had been trying to tell her. It was a sad story, and it had all happened in 1870, shortly after the Civil War had torn the nation apart.
She noticed that several sources were cited at the bottom of the article. She wondered if she could find any of them on the computer, or if she would have to go to the library. It was almost two AM, and though she couldn’t sleep, she was exhausted. She decided to see what she could find in the morning.
She lay down again to try to get some sleep.
Although it seemed futile, Mark decided to try barhopping again.
Big Jim wasn’t playing, he quickly discovered. But he stayed for a beer, and listened to the remainder of the group.
He was still bothered by everything that had happened with “Nefertiti.” She had wanted him to destroy her. He was certain she hadn’t seized the child because she really intended to take his life; rather, she had wanted death and had forced his hand. But he was still frustrated, thinking that she might have known something that could have helped him.
He straightened suddenly and looked around. Nothing in the bar looked different, but something had changed.
He sipped his beer and carefully observed those around him. Three college boys were sitting at one of the high tables near the bar. There were eight people on the dance floor. They weren’t dancing as couples, just moving to the music.
At the table next to him a young woman was seated with an older man. He homed in on their conversation; it was a father and daughter. She was going to Tulane, and he was down visiting.
The bar was sparsely populated. Several people appeared to be alone. There were two attractive women in their early fifties enjoying conversation, Margaritas and the music.
A couple at the far end. The man had sandy hair, and was broad-shouldered, tall and dressed in a black tailored shirt and jeans. He looked like he might be the quarterback on his college team. The girl was pretty. She looked sweet, radiant and innocent. Also very young. She had dark eyes and long brown hair, and wore a tube top and a short plaid mini-skirt. They had their heads bowed toward one another.
Suddenly the girl laughed a little too loudly, probably the result of too much to drink.
He saw the man set money on the bar and whisper to her.
She smiled and flushed.
They started out the door together, hand in hand.
Mark followed.
There was a loud boom, like a burst of thunder.
Lauren started up, alarmed, awakened from a deep sleep.
The French doors had crashed inward. The drapes, white and billowing, were floating like ethereal clouds.
A flash of lightning brightened the darkness.
And he was there. Stephan. He was tall and impossibly forbidding. He wore a black cape that billowed behind him, dark against the white of the drapes.
“Ask me in. Ask me to come for you,” he said.
“No. I’ll never ask you in.”
“I know you read the article,” he said softly.
“What does that matter?” she demanded sharply.
“I know the fortune-teller,” he assured her.
“Susan…” she murmured, fear leaping into her heart. Susan had been terrified. She had known about Stephan.
“I haven’t hurt her—yet. But I know she gave you the article.”
“It says nothing about you,” she told him.
“You didn’t read it properly,” he said, and smiled, the gleaming gold of his eyes offering something that was
