Crimson Kiss(5)

"Jimmy, please ask our guest if he would like any refreshments."

Jimmy glared at Meghann, who stared back. With a put-upon air, he asked

Alcuin sarcastically, "Would you like any refreshments, my lord?"

"Some water, please."

"And what about you, my vampire queen?"

"Some coffee would be nice. And make enough for yourself," Meghann said

pointedly.

Jimmy thought about responding to that and then lurched off to the kitchen.

"Didn't you say Mr. Delacroix had given up drinking?"

"He has… for the most part," Meghann answered, "but we had a disagreement

last night."

Alcuin did not ask if the disagreement was part of a lover's quarrel. He knew

the vampire-hunter had lived with Meghann for six years, but he had never asked

her what their relationship was. You'll face a difficult decision, banrion, he

thought, love between a mortal and a vampire rarely comes to a good end.

Meghann went to the kitchen to see if Jimmy needed any help. "So I don't have

to serve Count Dracula by myself? You're not going to show me off as your pet

Renfield?"

Meghann laughed as she got some coffee mugs and a water glass from the

cupboard. "Now, Jimmy, you know I don't go around making humans my slaves."

"Yeah, I guess that was more in your old boyfriend's line of country," Jimmy

said, referring to Simon Baldevar.

"Funny that you should mention him."

"Why?" Jimmy took a closer look at her.

Meghann bit her lip and wrapped her arms around her body. "Alcuin thinks

Simon might still be alive."

"Jesus Christ!" Jimmy exploded, bringing Alcuin hurrying into the kitchen. He

turned on him. "How the hell can that son of a bitch be alive? Maggie killed him

forty years ago!"

Meghann put the coffee and water on a tray. "Jimmy, let's continue this in the

living room. Alcuin said he has some photographs to show us."

Alcuin took the tray while Jimmy went over to Meghann. The jolt of fear he'd

received when Meghann told him about Simon had knocked the alcohol out of his

system. "Maggie, I thought you said you killed him."

"I thought I did," she told him while they walked back into the living room. "I

mean, the last time I saw Simon Baldevar, he was lying on a rooftop with a stake

through his heart that I had impaled him with. He couldn't move; I thought daylight

would take care of him."

"No doubt he had an ally you weren't aware of come and remove the stake,"

Alcuin told her.

"Let's not jump the gun," Jimmy said. "We still aren't one hundred percent sure

he's alive."

Alcuin reached into his cloak and handed Meghann a flat brown envelope. She

sat down on the ottoman and inspected the photos, with Jimmy looking over her

shoulder.

The pictures made Meghann feel physically ill. Since becoming a vampire,

Meghann had witnessed many terrible things. These photographs, with their

shocking and pathetic images, were one of the most devastating things she had

ever seen.

The photos appeared to be of some sort of nursery or orphanage. With the

exception of five women in nun's habits, an elderly priest, and two women in plain

clothes, the victims in the photographs were all children. The youngest corpse

looked to be about two years old, and the oldest child was probably twelve.

Altogether, the photos showed ten dead children.

Each corpse had been brutally slashed. Some were nearly beheaded from the

wounds inflicted. Some were cut on their wrists. It did not escape Meghann's

notice that each wound was on a vein or artery.

Meghann's eyes fell on the priest. She first she saw the terror and pain on his

face. Then she noticed… Dear God!

Jimmy snatched the picture when it fell out of her hands. "What the hell?"

Alcuin looked as uncomfortable as Meghann. "The priest was found with an

ornate Russian Orthodox cross inserted into his anus."

Jimmy was disgusted. "Why the hell would someone do that?"

Meghann answered. "If Simon committed these murders, I can explain the

priest. I saw him do the same thing in Cuba. It is my guess that the priest entered

the room and saw Simon's blood teeth out. If he grabbed the cross and held it up

for protection, screaming that movie foolishness about standing back in the name

of Christ, then Simon yanked the cross out of his hands, bent him over, and…

Well, Simon's sense of humor did run to such things." She could still see the

young Cuban priest moaning and crying. It wasn't the physical pain that made him

cry; it was the desolate knowledge that his God could not protect him from the

evil fiend that had violated the sanctuary of the small island church.