Violets Are Blue (Alex Cross #7)(54)

VIOLETS ARE BLUE

bumping into one or the other. They wore black T-shirts, jeans, rock climbers' shoes. 'You want to back off a little?' she finally said. 'Just back off, okay?' The older one smiled. The dent between his lip and nose was a sexy round hollow. 'I'm William. This is my brother Michael. By any chance were you looking for us. Inspector Hughes?' Oh no, oh Jesus. Jamilla tried to reach for the sidearm in the holster strapped to her back. They grabbed her. Took away her gun as easily as if she were a child. She was astonished at how fast they moved and how strong they were. The two of them pushed her down on the sidewalk and handcuffed her. Where did they get cuffs? In New Orleans? The murdered detective? The older one spoke again. 'Don't scream, or I'll snap your neck, Inspector.' He said it so matter-of-factly. Snap your neck. The second one spoke then. He was right in her face. She saw the long canine fangs. 'If you hunt for the vampire, the vampire will hunt for you,' he said.

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Chapter Eighty-Two


She was gagged, then thrown roughly onto the rear seat of a pickup truck. The truck started up and took off with a jolt. She was being driven somewhere. Jamilla tried to concentrate on everything about the trip. She counted off the seconds, kept track of the minutes. There was stop-and-go city driving, then faster, smoother riding, possibly on Route 1. Then a very rough road, possibly unpaved. She figured the trip took approximately thirty-seven minutes. She was carried inside a building, some kind of ranch house or roughshod farm structure. People were laughing. At her? They wore fangs. Jesus. She was put down on a cot in a small room and her gag removed. 'You've come looking for the Sire,' the one who called himself William whispered, his face up close to hers. 'You've made a terrible mistake. Inspector. This one will get you killed.' He smiled horribly, and she felt as if she were being both ridiculed, and, at the same time, seduced. William touched her cheek with his long, slender fingers. He lightly caressed her throat, stared into her eyes. She was repulsed, wanted to run away, but couldn't do anything. There were a dozen or so vampires here - watching her like she was meat on a spit. 'I don't know anything about a Sire,'she said.'What's a Sire? Help me out here.' The brothers looked at each other, shared a knowing smirk. A -------------- 222 --------------

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few of the others laughed out loud. The Sire is the one who leads,' said William. He was so calm, so very sure of himself. 'Who does the Sire lead?' she asked. 'Why, anyone who will follow,' William answered. He laughed again, seemed to be enjoying himself immensely at her expense. 'Vampires, Inspector. Others like Michael and myself. Many others, in many, many cities. You can't imagine the extent of it. The Sire stands firm with simple directions on what to think, how to act, things like that. The Sire is not accountable to any authorities. The Sire is a superior being. Are you starting to understand? Would you like to meet the Sire?' 'Is the Sire here now?' she asked. 'Where are we?' William continued to stare down at her. He was definitely seductive. Disgusting. Then he leaned in closer. 'You're the detective. Js the Sire here? Where are you? You tell me.' Jamilla felt as if she might retch. She needed her space. 'Why are we here?' she asked. She wanted to keep them talking, keep them occupied for as long as she could. William shrugged. 'Oh, we've always been here. This used to be a commune - California-dreaming hippies, mind-altering drugs, Joni Mitchell music. Our parents were hippies. We were isolated from other ways to live and think, so we depended on each other. My brother and I are unbelievably close. But we're nothing really. We're here to serve the Sire.' 'Was the Sire always at the commune?' she asked. William shook his head, and gave her a serious look. 'There were always vampires here. They stayed apart, left the others alone. You had to join them, not the other way around.' 'How many are there?' William looked at Michael, shrugged his broad shoulders, and they both laughed.'Legions! We're everywhere.' Suddenly William roared and went for her throat. Jamilla couldn't help it - she screamed. He stopped inches away from her, still growling like an animal. Then he purred gently. His long tongue licked her cheek, her lips, her -------------- 223 --------------

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eyelids. She couldn't believe what was happening. 'We're going to hang you and drink every last drop. And the most amazing thing - you're going to enjoy it when you die. It's ecstasy, Jamilla.'

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Chapter Eighty-Three


I had returned to Washington, and was taking a much needed day off. Why not? I hadn't seen enough of the kids lately, and it was Saturday after all. Damon, Jannie and I went to the Corcoran Gallery of Art that afternoon. The little creeps fiercely resisted the museum at first, but once they were inside the Palace of Gold and Light they were completely entranced. Then they didn't want to leave. Typical of them. When we eventually got home at around four, Nana told me I was to call Tim Bradley at the San Francisco Examiner. Give me a break. This case wouldn't stop. Now I was supposed to call Jamilla's buddy? 'It's important that you call. That's the message,' Nana said. She was baking two cherry pies. Reminding me how good it was to be home. It was one o'clock in California. I called Tim Bradley at his office. He picked up right away.'Bradley.' 'It's Detective Alex Cross.' 'Hi. I hoped you'd call. I'm a friend of Jamilla Hughes.' I knew that much already. I interrupted. 'Is she okay?' 'Why do you ask that. Detective? She went to Santa Cruz yesterday. Did you know about that?' 'She mentioned she might go. Did somebody go with her?' I asked. 'I suggested she take company.' His answer was curt and defensive. 'No. Like Jamilla always says, she's a big girl. And she carries a big gun.'