Leaving Maggie, Jessica moved as quickly as possible. Darkness was coming far too quickly.
Despite Maggie's assurances, she felt she had to personally check on the situation at the hospital. She went to David's room and saw that there was indeed a cop on duty.
Yeah, well, there had been a cop on duty with Mary, too. Discreetly, pretending she was looking for another room, she tried to get a good look at the officer. She should have faith in Sean, of course, but...
The officer was huge, a big, handsome man of mixed heritage. She saw the chain around his neck. It held a crucifix, she was certain.
She tarried until she heard the officer speaking to a nurse leaving the room. "How's he doing?"
"Good, good. He's talking. Doesn't remember a thing, though." She lowered her voice to a near whisper. "Spooky, if you ask me. I tell you, we never lost a patient here before. I mean a dead patient. You know. We've never lost a corpse from the morgue."
"College kids. Pranks," the cop said, his voice reassuring.
"I don't know. I just get the willies around here these days." she said, and then she smiled, gave a little wave and started down the hall.
Jessica left the hospital and went on to her office, hoping to find Jeremy and Nancy there. No luck.
Looking around, she had a strange feeling, as if someone had been there, as if they'd just left. She told herself that she'd let the kids use the office, and that was all it was.
Still, a sense of unease plagued her. Something unnerving had happened here. She paused, looking around, then closing her eyes. Had the Master been here?
No. It was a different sense of...violation that plagued her. But she didn't have time to dwell on it.
She started out, then nearly screamed aloud when she ran straight into Big Jim.
He immediately looked sheepish. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."
"My fault. But what the heck are you doing here? I can't imagine you've come for my services."
He shook his head. "I read the newspaper," he said softly. "And I'm worried."
"I'm okay."
"You've got to be careful. I can feel it in my old bones when things are going wrong. You know me. And you know I can feel it when the, er, otherworldly is going down. Comes from all the voodoo in my life, I suppose."
"Your bones aren't all that old, Jim."
"I don't like this. I don't like this one bit. And too many good folks are still out of town."
"I know. I think Maggie is going to make some calls."
"I saw the sky turn red. This evil is after you."
Jessica looked around quickly. "You're alone, right?"
"Yeah, I'm alone. Barry Larson is a good old boy, but don't worry, we never do anything but tease about my old voodoo-queen granny."
"Big Jim, you need to be careful. The whole city needs to be careful. If I had my way, I'd ask Sean to impose a curfew."
"And he'd be locked up in an insane asylum."
"I know. That's all that stops me."
"You call me when you need me."
"You be careful. You could be in danger, too."
He gave her a huge smile. "Not me. I know what I'm up against."
"No. No one really understands what they're up against."
"When you need me, I'm here."
"I know." She gave him a fierce hug. "Thank you."
He stepped back, studying her. "You know what I think? I think there's got to be someone close to you who isn't what he seems."
She froze, frowning, and asked sharply, "What do you mean?"
"Ifhe's here, he's got help."
"You mean...the Master?"
"Honey, think about it. He must have someone working for him, right here."
She exhaled softly, staring at him.He was right . Even so, she shook her head in denial. "The only people who were in Romania were the kids and Bryan MacAllistair. But it can't be him. He's hunting the Master himself. He wants to destroy him."
"Yeah? How do you know that? Only because he says so, right? And think about it. Where is he staying? Your place."
"No. I can't believe..."
"Watch your back. He doesn't need an invitation to come in."
"Look, it could be anyone. The Master didn't need any help in Transylvania." She didn't allow her voice to falter.
Big Jim wouldn't be swayed. "There's someone, and it's someone close to you," he warned.
"I've get to get moving," she said, putting an end to the uncomfortable topic. "You listen to what people are saying in the bar, okay?"
"You know it," he promised.
Her cell started to ring. She answered it, still meeting his grave stare. "Hello?"
"Jessica, its Maggie. Get over here. Now."
"But I haven't found-"
"I think you should come. Seriously. There's still time before dark."
Jessica nodded and hung up. "Big Jim, if you see those kids, tell them to go to my place. To Montresse House. Okay?"
Maggie was at the door when she parked in the drive. Jessica frowned. "What's going on?"
"Ancient texts," Maggie told her.
"You got ancient texts off the computer?" Jessica asked incredulously.
"With patience, you can find anything you want on the computer," Maggie assured her. "Come in. Sit down."
They returned to the kitchen. There were papers from Maggie's printer spread out all over the breakfast table.
"Here, this one is Babylonian. The translation is, 'He rises when the time is right, when the succubi ride rampant over the land. Neither god nor man nor beast, he rises to wage war against the miasma that reigns.'"
"Ancient Babylonian?" Jessica murmured doubtfully.
"Yes. And this is a release from the Vatican, twelfth century."
"This is in Latin," Jessica said.
"Translation to the left," Maggie warned.
"'As there shall be demons, so there shall be angels. And as the war within the world is not the war within the soul, there are those whose demonic strength shall cast terror into the innocents. Yet so there shall be warriors, those granted life and breath, to do battle. Therefore, have ye faith, have ye strength, have ye courage. Ever and eternally, such a battle will rage, for if there is darkness, there is light, if there is love, there is hatred. So shall they rise, by the strength and goodness of His love and mercy, those who were warriors, and where there is despair, they will bring hope. Thus may they fight the eternal battle.'"
Jessica set down the printed sheet, staring at Maggie. "How did you find this?"
"I've been at it since you've left. I've found a dozen other references to these beings known as warriors. I had heard about them before. I remember a time in Europe when there was a great fear of them. I never came across any such beings, but...I should have remembered. Come on, think about it-you must have heard something, too."
"Now that you mention it, I had heard of them, but...that was a long time ago. I thought that they were men sent out by the Church in a time when people believed that an old woman with healing powers was a witch, a bride of Satan-that people signed away their souls to the devil and danced naked in the moonlight. So...you think Bryan MacAllistair is one of them?" Jessica asked.
"I don't think he's just any warrior," Maggie said softly. "I think he is-or was-the champion who fought for Robert Bruce. The great warrior who strode onto the field at Hay Glen and allowed the fledgling king to escape when Edward III first took the throne and decided to battle the Scots."
Jessica sank into a chair and stared at Maggie. "That's not possible."
"It is."
"He'd be more than a thousand years old."
"I didn't find a life span noted in any of the references to the warriors," Maggie said.
"It's impossible," Jessica repeated.
"Why?"
"He died. I've studied history. He died."
"Things aren't always what they seem," Maggie said grimly. "You need to go back to your house and stay there."
"I can't, and you know it. Thank you, Maggie. I don't believe what you're telling me, but I promise to be careful."
"Just keep your distance from him."
"He's living in my house."
"Perhaps you should ask him to leave."
Jessica couldn't help the guilty look that came over her face, followed by a hot blush.
"Oh, no," Maggie groaned. "You're not going to ask him to leave. You'resleeping with him."
"Yes," Jessica answered at last. "And yes, there's something about him, but..." Unable to put her feelings into words, she let her voice trail off.
"Just be careful. That's all I ask."
Jessica gave her friend a hug and headed for the door. Then she turned around. "I saw Big Jim. He thinks the Master has help here. Someone close to me."
"Who?"
"Someone who might have been in Romania, as well."
"The kids?" Maggie said dubiously.
"No, Bryan MacAllistair. Your warrior."
"I still say I'm right," Maggie said.
"There was someone else there. Someone who got there before me and went up against the Master. That was when panic set in. I had to wait before I could make my move. His power over his followers is so great that if he's threatened, they'd die like lemmings tossing themselves into the sea in their single-minded willingness to protect him. He has to be taken by surprise. I had to see how the stage was set before I did anything, but before I could, the battle began. But the Master knew I was there, and...he'll be out to kill me."
"My point, exactly," Maggie said. "You need to keep the hell away from him."
Jessica nodded. "No, I need to make sure that I'm ahead of the game this time. But it's happening fast. The time is right...I canfeel it."
"Maybe you should back out-let MacAllistair face the battle. That's the whole point of his existence."
"I can't. From the beginning, this has been my battle."
"Let it go," Maggie begged. "But you won't, will you?" she asked, meeting Jessica's determined gaze.
At the door, Jessica gave her friend another fierce hug.
When she stepped outside, her unease grew. Dusk had not yet come, and yet, even by day, the sky was turning colors, streaks of red curling across it.
She held very still, afraid.
Something was happening.
Tonight.
To his own astonishment, Bryan was able to find Jeremy and Nancy. They were just a block down Bourbon Street, sipping green drinks in glasses that lit up and listening to a mellow rock group.
He slid into the booth next to Jeremy.
"Hey, Prof," Jeremy said dully.
"Hey," Nancy said, forcing a note of cheerfulness into her voice.
"You two doing okay?"
"Yeah, great," Jeremy said morosely. "My best friend is dead, and you all think she's a vampire who wants to kill me, so you want to stake her. Her mom has been calling me, and I haven't got the guts to call her back. On top of that, I'm thinking I'm going to have to spend the rest of my life hiding. I'm afraid, and I want to see her. And if I said this to anyone else, I'd be committed."
"I think you captured the situation fairly accurately in the first few sentences," Bryan said flatly. "Meanwhile, it's getting late."
"Yeah, right, late," Jeremy murmured.
"I'm going to take you to Montresse House. Now," Bryan said firmly.
"Jessica has us all set up at her office," Nancy reminded him.
Bryan shook his head. "Montresse House will be safer," he assured her. "You'll have more company."
"Like hell." Jeremy turned accusing eyes on him. "You're hoping Mary will come, and then you can kill her."
Nancy put a hand on his. "Jeremy, Mary is already dead."
"But she looks the same. And when she calls to me..."
"She's hungry, nothing more," Bryan told him and rose. "Now let's go," he said curtly.
Montresse House was beautiful, and there was certainly plenty of room. Stacey, who apparently ran the inn, along with whatever else she could get away with, was nice, if bossy, Jeremy decided. The handyman, Gareth, wasn't bossy, just quiet and a little bit creepy. You didn't know he was there, he was so silent, and then you'd get an eerie feeling down your spine, turn around and see him standing there.
But the house did seem safe, and it was good to be around Stacey, because she seemed calm and relaxed, as if nothing could scare her. When she showed Jeremy to his room, he asked her, "You believe in all this, then? I mean, I haven't missed a big news story or something, have I? This is crazy, right?"
Stacey smiled. "Most of the time, there's an order to things in life, a balance, but sometimes, that balance gets shifted a bit."
"So you believe in vampires?" he persisted.
"Yes."
"But...how?"
"There are different planes of existence. Mostly, they all co-exist. Sometimes the world we know and what we call the netherworld collide. How's that?"
"It's more bullshit."
"It's all I'm going to give you," she said. "I'll check on Nancy. You make yourself comfortable, okay?"
"Where's Jessica?" he asked. "If I could just see Jessica..."
"I'm not sure," Stacey said. "But I know she wants you here. And I know she wants you to be careful."
"I have to tell her about Mary. That Mary can't be evil."
Stacey took his hand. "What Mary is now...she was created by evil. You have to accept that. I'll be back in a little while. You shouldn't be alone. Settle in. Then we'll all be together, all right?"
She left him.
He walked over to the French doors that led to the wraparound balcony. The drapes were open and he drew them shut. There were fresh vines and flowers draped around the windows and the doors-and they all had garlic artfully entwined in them. He fingered the cross around his neck, then held it very tightly.
And remembered the way Mary had torn the cross she wore from around hers.
Stacey walked down the hall, hesitating outside Jessica's room. She tapped; Jessica didn't answer. She hadn't expected she would. She moved on and tried Bryan MacAllistair's door. He should have been there, having just come in with Jeremy and Nancy.
"Bryan?"
Still no answer. His door was locked. She had a passkey, and even though she knew she shouldn't, she opened his door. The room was empty.
Frowning, she shut and relocked the door, then hurried downstairs. "Bryan? Professor MacAllistair?"
There was no reply.
Swearing, she went to the front and looked outside. She could see no one. She went to the back, running across to Gareth's cottage. She banged on his door. "Gareth!"
He didn't answer, either, which concerned her even more than Bryan's absence.
Her cell phone rang. She dug it from her pocket.
"Stacey, it's Jessica."
"Jessica! Thank God. I think you should get back here right now."
"I can't. But you've got to make sure Bryan MacAllistair stays there."
"Jessica, the kids are here, he brought them. But I can't find him." And even if I did, I couldn't keep him here, anyway, she thought.
On the other end of the line, Jessica swore softly. "If you see him again, tell him you think he's needed there, that you're sure Mary is nearby. Tell him...I don't know. If you see him again, just convince him that he's got to stay there."
"I'll do my best. Jessica..."
"What?"
"Mary really will come, won't she?"
Jessica lowered her head, knowing the truth.
"Yes, Mary really will come."
"Jeremy..."
Jeremy had been doing nothing but sitting dully in a chair in his room, staring into space, since Stacey had left him.
"Jeremy..."
He groaned. "I'm not hearing this," he said aloud.
But he was hearing it.
Mary's voice came again.
"Please!"
He knew he shouldn't do it.
He rose, anyway. Her voice was coming from the window. He walked to it and drew back the heavy drapes.
And she was there.
She was no longer naked, but that didn't help any. She had found a beautiful white dress.
Almost like a wedding dress.
It bared her arms, and emphasized the perfection of her breasts, the slimness of her waist. She didn't look evil. She looked...angelic, floating outside the window, elegant in drifting, filmy white.
He tried to tell himself that he had seen this scene before in a thousand movies, the seductive beauty staring hungrily at...
A meal.
"Oh, Mary," he said miserably.
"Jeremy, I'm so scared."
"You're dead, Mary," he forced himself to say dully.
"No, I'm here, and I need your help. Please, Jeremy. I won't hurt you, I swear. I'm just afraid. I can't go, Jeremy. If I go, I'll die. You have to let me in, keep me with you, keep me safe."
She was a vampire, he told himself. She had always used him, and now she wanted to do it again, only this time she wanted his blood. She wanted his life.
"Jeremy?"
She said his name, then nothing more. Could vampires cry? Evidently. Huge tears appeared in her eyes, trailed down the pale contours of her still beautiful face.
"Don't cry, Mary."
"I'm so afraid. I'm being called...I've been ordered.... Help me, Jeremy. Keep me with you. Keep me here, with you."
He didn't know if her whisper created his insanity or if he actually believed her, but he opened the French doors. He reached out, and she joined him on the balcony. She should have felt cold, he thought, but she didn't.
He took her tightly into his arms. She hugged him in return, then leaned against him and kissed his lips. She was shaking. He felt the pressure of her lips against his throat. Felt them quivering.
His heart slammed. This was it. He had never been able to resist her. And now he was going to die for it.