"You weren"t there. You didn"t see," Nancy said, glaring at her. She looked at Jeremy in misery. "Now we"re going to die." She turned to face Jessica again. "They"ll come after us, too." Jessica felt a chill snake along her spine, but she hesitated, knowing she needed to speak carefully. "All right," she said at last.
"Say that such creatures do exist. Was either of you actually bitten?"
Jeremy and Nancy stared at each other.
"No," Nancy said.
"No," Jeremy echoed.
Another silent moment pa.s.sed.
"Good G.o.d!" Jeremy said sickly.
"What?" Jessica asked.
"She"ll become a vampire."
"Oh, G.o.d!" Nancy agreed. "Mary will be...one of the undead." Her words were so dramatic that they would have been funny, if the situation hadn"t been so tragic.
"It"s the truth," Jeremy said firmly.
"All right, listen. Often truth is simply what we believe it to be," Jessica said.
"Don"t start with the psychobabble," Jeremy said angrily.
"I"m not. The point is, if you see something as true-and I"m not going to try to tell either of you that you"re mistaken or it"s all in your minds-then, in your life, at the very least, it is true. So let"s say vampires do exist. Make a list of ways to deal with them."
Nancy and Jeremy stared at each other in confusion.
"Like...garlic?" Nancy asked.
Jessica smiled. "Like garlic. Is either of you religious?"
"I was raised Catholic," Jeremy said.
"Methodist," Nancy said. "Like Mary."
"Great big silver crosses would be good, then," Jessica said.
"What if Mary was Jewish?" Nancy asked suspiciously.
"Then I would suggest a great big Star of David," Jessica told her.
"I see. Because what"s important is that I believe that would stop a Jewish vampire?" Nancy asked.
Again, Jessica answered carefully. "Here"s one way to look at it. There is a supreme being, and for the sake of argument, we"ll make it a "he." And he"s the ultimate good. But there"s evil in the world, and good or evil are in a constant battle for supremacy.
We"ll a.s.sume that the two of you are good, and that whatever killed Mary is evil. So as representatives of good, you have to combat the evil."
"With garlic?" Nancy asked. "With whatever you believe will work," Jessica said.
They needed to believe they could fight. She was pretty sure she had accomplished that, at the least.
"So what should we do now?" Nancy asked.
"Go back to your dorms and get what you need, then come back here. I"ll have everything set up for you. No one will know you"re here." She paused, then offered a rueful smile. "We"ll go by all the old legends, so don"t invite anyone in. Anyone at all."
"Right. A vampire can"t come in unless invited," Nancy said.
"That"s the traditional thought," Jessica agreed.
"We need holy water and crosses," Jeremy said.
"Right. And I"ll see you have everything you need for a good night"s sleep," Jessica a.s.sured them.
"I don"t know if I"ll ever sleep again," Jeremy said.
Jessica placed a hand on his. "I wish I could make this not hurt so badly for you," she told him. "But grief...it"s something you have to go through. All the stages, but you have to live, too. You have people who love you. Think of how badly you"re hurting.
You wouldn"t want to make anyone else hurt like that, right?"
He sighed deeply. "Of course I want to live, of course. It"s instinct, isn"t it?"
Oh, yes, he was right about that.
She acknowledged his words with a slight smile and a nod. Just then the pizza arrived, and both Nancy and Jeremy found themselves able to eat.
In the middle of a bite, Jeremy started crying.
Nancy held him. Jessica sat silently.
Her heart seemed to bleed. He was truly in misery.
And he was truly afraid.
There was little he could do.
Little but be frustrated.
Bryan chafed irritably through the rest of the morning and the early hours of the afternoon. Jessica had befriended Jeremy and his fellow students, but he barely knew them. He had nothing to offer them after their loss.
Jessica, pale and shaken, had been out of the house as soon as he finished telling them what had happened. He simply bided his time, watching the sky all the while.
At last the afternoon waned. He had checked the times when the nurses" shifts changed, and, thanks to modern technology, he had found the blueprints for the hospital online, as well as the current delegation of s.p.a.ce.
He arrived with time to spare, making his way first to the cafeteria.It was busy, which was good. He took his time, pretending to read the newspaper, watching, ready to grab his opportunity when it came. When it did, it was easy enough to snag a key card from a young orderly who neglected to realize he had left it on his tray.
After that, a supply room afforded him a choice of lab coats complete with name tags. Again, he took his time, deciding he looked more like a MacDonald than a DeVries, Garcia or Gustafson. h.e.l.l, maybe it didn"t matter. This was America.
After that, he walked down the halls with complete confidence, found the right staircase and then reached the morgue.
Cold and sad. Technology had done little to alter the character of the place.
There was a lone attendant, a young man sitting at the desk outside the door. An ID tag offered up his name: David Hayes. He was engrossed in a sci-fi novel. When Bryan entered, he glanced up looking guilty as his eyes fell back to the pages. Then he dragged them up again.
"Sorry," he murmured quickly.
"No problem."
"Thanks. Evening, Doctor...MacDonald."
"Evening. I need one of the bodies that came in today."
"The gunshot victim?"
"No, the girl who was over in Europe."
"Second cubicle on the left. They"re all clearly tagged."
"Thanks."
Bryan started into the room. He had barely made it to the second doorway when the lights suddenly went out, pitching the morgue into a cold sea of blackness.
An autopsy meant Mary would be in the hospital morgue. Jessica hoped and prayed that Mary might not have become...what she was about to become, but the truth was, she knew.
The very fact that Bryan MacAllistair was here was a warning.
But Mary hadn"t been alone at night. That was the puzzle.
In the end, it didn"t matter. Jessica was certain she needed to find the poor girl"s corpse. That night.
By day, there were so many people milling around, by night, so few.
She had thought about calling Sean, but she decided she didn"t want him involved. He was on his way up the cop ladder, and he didn"t need any questions being asked about his integrity. Or his sanity. No, this was something she had to take care of on her own.
In a supply room, she chose a green cleaning-crew jacket. She already had a fake identification. She also took a bucket and a mop, which gave off the strong odor of antibacterial cleaning solution. She put on a head scarf and a mask against the fumes, and mumbled a few words with a French accent to the attendant on duty at the morgue.She could hardly ask for the location of the body she was interested in; she would just have to find it.
She moved down the hall and entered the first room.
Six gurneys. Five held the earthly remains of patients who had died. She noted with a sinking heart that the sixth was draped with a sheet but otherwise empty.
Then the lights went out.
David Hayes swore softly in amazement. Was it a flipping blackout? And if so, why hadn"t the emergency lights kicked on?
Was it the whole hospital? Or just the morgue?
He started to stand, then felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, handsome."
The whisper was soft, feminine and totally s.e.xual. He froze, even as her voice awakened his libido.
Who the h.e.l.l did he know who would seduce him in the morgue during a blackout?
At last purple emergency lights flickered on to illuminate the room.
His eyes widened. His jaw dropped. Lord...
The most beautiful creature he"d seen in his whole life was standing in front of him.
Totally naked.
Blond and beautiful, with enormous b.r.e.a.s.t.s and a tiny waist. Not an ounce of cellulite on her. Her complexion was pale and perfect. Her eyes were enormous and...carnal.
She smiled, a finger touching his lips. "I"ve been waiting. We"re alone, aren"t we?"
They weren"t alone, he thought. There was a cleaning lady somewhere. And a doctor. And the lights would come back on any minute, and...he didn"t care.
"I"ve been watching you," she said softly. Her fingers trailed down his face. He needed to tell her that they weren"t alone, but he couldn"t.
He needed this job. It was his way of making it through school. He liked it. He sat at the desk, and he read. It was quiet, and it paid well, and it beat the h.e.l.l out of sweating to death in a coffee house or a burger joint. If he got caught, he could kiss it goodbye.
He needed to tell her.
But his lips wouldn"t work.
He could only stare at her.
Her hands were cold.
This was a morgue, for G.o.d"s sake. The whole place was cold. At last he managed to open his mouth, but no sound came.
She smiled deeply, watching his face. "Silly boy..."
It sounded as if she were hissing. Like a snake.
Her tongue teased his lips. Cold, so cold...
Something was wrong.
She started to kiss him. She might be cold, and this might be a morgue, but he was suddenly on fire. He reached out, acting on instinct. Lord, she was built. And her cold lips on his, then against his throat...