Meghann felt bile in her throat. She went to the small bar in the living room and
poured a tumbler full of absinthe—one of the few substances that could intoxicate
a vampire. Grain alcohol worked too, but it was even viler tasting than absinthe.
Meghann noticed Jimmy eyeing her glass, which would probably kill him if he
drank the whole thing.
She took a large mouthful to steady herself and asked Alcuin, "What are these
pictures of?"
"St. Paul's Home for Abused Wives and Children in San Diego. The church
takes in women and children with no place to go until the women can find a job or
family members willing to help them. The cops think the attack took place between
eight and nine P.M. They say it could have been far worse. There are usually fifty
families and thirty nuns there. The rest were at a bazaar. These children were sick,
and they couldn't attend."
Although the children were simply slashed, the cross was mild compared to the
atrocities visited on the poor women in the pictures. Some of the dead were
forced into a kneeling position. These corpses were facing other standing corpses
in a crude simulation of oral sex. The victims were kept in position by wooden
stakes that impaled them, and were then ground into the floor.
"The coroner said they died after they were impaled… not before."
Meghann could have guessed that by the pain and horror in their open, staring
eyes. She also thought, from the fright on the children's faces, that they had been
forced to watch the carnage before they were killed.
"How do you know this is the work of vampires?"
Jimmy asked. "It could have been the work of psychopaths. Even the cross
could be the inspiration of some crazy kids."
"That's precisely what the cops believe," Alcuin responded. "They think this is
the work of some satanic cult However, what they cannot explain is the fact that
there was almost no blood at the crime scene. When the bodies were examined by
the coroner, he said they had been bled dry."
"Besides," Meghann told Jimmy, "look at the stab wounds. You'll notice very
subtle puncture marks imbedded in the slashes." She looked up at Alcuin. "This is
definitely the work of vampires, but how can you be sure it's Simon? He's not the
only vampire to resent the whole crucifix business."
"Yeah," Jimmy echoed.
"Meghann, take another look at that picture of the nun by St Joseph's statue."
Meghann looked, and dropped the photograph. "My God… the pendant!"
The picture was of a nun wearing only her veil, with her legs wrapped tightly
around the statue. That was not what had disturbed Meghann. At the foot of the
statue was a gold pendant from the fourteenth century—a gift from Simon.
Meghann had left it behind on the night she thought he died.
Alcuin reached into his cloak and withdrew the pendant. "Charles was able to
bribe one of the cops and get this for you… I thought you might want it back."
Meghann eyed the object with distaste, and then thought she should have it—
perhaps it could be used in a binding spell against Simon. She sat silently for a few
moments, twirling the pendant in her hands before she spoke. "Simon is neither
careless nor stupid. He left that pendant behind as a calling card."
"It's more than that," Alcuin told her. "It's an invitation."
"To what?" Jimmy asked.
"To me," Meghann answered tonelessly. "He knows that I became Alcuin's
apprentice… He wants to confront me and Alcuin for taking me in. The priest was
a direct taunt to Alcuin. Simon is telling us that he considers us no threat."
Meghann realized something else about those pictures. Her panic-stricken eyes
met Alcuin's. "How could I have not seen it before? It was no accident …
choosing a home for battered wives and children." Meghann leaped up from the
chair, her eyes wild and her face pale. "Alcuin, he knows! He knows I became a
psychologist, and I spend my life trying to help people like that! Dear God, he's
mocking me twice. He must have been around me or found out enough to know
what I do and now he's saying he can spit on that, destroy it … and me
completely!"
Meghann collapsed on the couch. She couldn't make herself say the rest out
loud. Simon had another reason for killing children. She had killed him (or thought
she had) when he threatened the life of a child. Now Simon was telling her that one
life meant nothing. She could almost hear his loathsome voice: "Look long and
hard at those pictures, my sweet. Could you have stopped the slaughter this
time?"
"Meghann," Alcuin said gently, interrupting her thoughts. "You're right… He