Blood Game (15 page)

“Not yet.” She threw herself into Eve’s arms. “Ten more minutes, Mama. Please. Please. Please. I want to go and get an ice cream.”

“Where?”

“Right over there. That booth by that big tree.”

Eve caught a glimpse of a white stand with red lettering through the shifting crowd of parents and children. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“I can go by myself.” Bonnie was already running toward the ice-cream stand, darting in and out of the crowds. “Grandma already gave me the money. I’ll be right back.”

Eve smiled at Sandra. “Grandma already gave her the money? Grandma is spoiling her rotten.”

Sandra shook her head. “Not possible. What’s an ice cream?” She smiled. “I love her in that Bugs Bunny T-shirt. I was wondering if maybe we could afford to take her to Disney World this year.”

“I’m pretty strapped for cash.” But the thought of Bonnie’s face when she was confronted with all that magic was very tempting. “Maybe if I could get a second job . . .”

“Only for a little while. I know you’re working hard at school too,” Sandra said. “But she’d love Cinderella’s Castle.”

Not only love it, but be dazzled. A dazzled Bonnie was too much to resist. “We’ll work it out.”

“I can’t wait to tell her,” Sandra said, her gaze going to the ice-cream stand that had once again come into view as the crowds shifted. “Will you let me do it, Eve?”

She was as childishly excited as Bonnie had been when she’d dashed for the ice-cream stand. “Okay, but don’t give a date. I have to see what I can—”

“Where is she?” Sandra interrupted. “I don’t see her.”

“What?” Eve frowned, her gaze flying to the ice-cream stand. “But she was right there. I saw her a minute ago in front of the stand.”

But she wasn’t there now. No little girl in a Bugs Bunny T-shirt and wild red curls.

Eve jerked to her feet in a panic.

“Bonnie!”

KEEP CALM. EVEN NOW THE MEMORY of that moment of terror was bringing back all the horror of the nightmare.

Get busy. Eve whirled toward the reconstruction of Matt on the pedestal. She began to work swiftly, frantically. “Help me, Matt.” Her fingers started smoothing the clay. “And I’ll help you.”

“WE’VE GOT IT PATCHED.” The burly Georgia Power repairman was coming toward Patty with a clipboard in his hand. “Sorry it took so long.” He held up the wire. “I had to cut it and splice in a new wire.”

“No problem.” Patty couldn’t take her gaze from the remains of the wire coiled in his hand. “You did a neat job.”

“That’s not my work. It was severed where it reached the house.” He shook his head. “It was cut through.”

She stiffened. “How?”

“Don’t ask me, lady. Whoever did it knew what they were doing, or they would have been electrocuted.”

“Someone cut it?” She shook her head. “I thought it was caused by the storm.”

“We didn’t have any outages last night in this area.”

“That’s what they told me when I called your office to report the power loss,” she said absently, her gaze on the wire.

“You should have believed them.” He handed her the clipboard and a pen. “Sign there.”

She signed her name and handed him the board. “You’re sure? Couldn’t something have fallen on it? Maybe a branch that would tear it and—”

“It was snipped clean as a whistle,” he repeated. “It might not be a bad idea to call the police and make out a report on this.” His gaze went across the street to the park. “Some bad things are happening around here lately.”

“I may do that.”

“Do you want this?” He held up the coiled wire.

“No.” Good God, it was actually reminding her of a serpent. Silly. That wasn’t like her. No one was more practical or less imaginative than she. “Just throw it in the garbage can on your way out.”

“Right.”

She watched him go out the gate before she slowly followed him. She should get back to Granddad. She’d already been away from him too long. There was little doubt she’d be in for one of his tantrums.

The coiled wire was on top of the trash as she reached the front of the house.

Some bad things are happening around here.

She shivered. Yes, they were. And for the first time she felt as if those bad things were creeping close to her.

Stop standing here staring at that damn wire. She lifted her shoulders as if to shrug off that heavy burden. Just go inside and soothe down Granddad and make his supper, then think about what she should do.

If that crazy son of a bitch was trying to make her a victim, then she’d find a way to blow him out of the water.

SETH CALEB WAS ALREADY WAITING in the reception area at Rico’s when Eve and Jane walked into the restaurant.

He smiled. “This is an interesting place. Sombreros on the walls and policemen at every table.”

“The food is good, and it’s close to the precinct,” Eve said. “Joe should be here any minute.”

“He’s here now,” Joe said from behind her. “I would have been here sooner, but Ed Norris stopped me when I was leaving.” He hailed a white-aproned waiter. “A table, Marco.”

Marco smiled. “Right away, Detective. Only one minute.”

“Why meet here?” Caleb asked. “Am I supposed to be intimidated by all this display of legal might?”

“If you have reason to be,” Joe said. “But I didn’t want to wait until I got home to question you. There’s a chance I might have to go back to the precinct to check out something you tell me.”

“What trust.” Caleb gestured for Jane and Eve to precede him as the waiter led them to a table. “But at least you think I have something to contribute.” He waited until they were all seated and had ordered drinks before he continued, “Tell me about Heather Carmello. The information on the news was very sketchy.”

“We weren’t hiding anything from the media. She was a prostitute who usually worked the bars on Peachtree. Same MO as the Norris killing.”

Caleb stared him in the eye. “Except?”

“No goblet. Does that have significance?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Then what the hell does it mean?” Joe said through his teeth, when Caleb didn’t elaborate. “Do I have to pull it out of you?”

“No, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t intend to tell you what you need.”

“He’s pissed at you, Joe,” Jane said bluntly. “He wants to give you a few needles before he lets you have what you want.”

“Exactly.” Caleb smiled at Jane. “How perceptive you are.” He turned back to Joe. “But I’m through with that for the time being. What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about Jelak in Fiero. Tell me about the ritual. Tell me about the goblet.”

“In what order?”

Eve had had enough. “Don’t play games with us,” she said curtly. “A woman was killed last night. You think Jane may be on his list too. I won’t have her in danger because we don’t know enough.”

“You don’t mention that you’re his prime target.” Caleb smiled. “I find that curious.”

“Tell us,” Eve said. “Everything.”

Caleb shrugged. “There are people fascinated with vampires all over the planet. Your United States is particularly fond of the concept. Movies, best-selling books, TV series. It’s no wonder Jelak became so obsessed with them.”

“It’s entertainment,” Jane said. “No one believes they actually exist.”

“People believe what they want to believe. Particularly if they’re unstable to begin with. I’m sure you’ve found out by now that Jelak has always had an affinity for blood. He collected vials of blood from the time he was a boy.”

“We just recently found that out. How did you know that?” Eve asked.

“I had an extremely violent discussion with Jelak’s teacher, Master Franco Donari. Jelak had bared his soul to Donari while he was teaching him.”

“Teaching him what?” Joe asked.

“The way to win the game,” he said softly.

“You mentioned a game before. What the hell do you mean?” Eve asked.

“Blood Game. The path that would lead Jelak to his heart’s desire.” He glanced at Joe’s impatient expression. “I’m getting to it. Give me a little time.” He took a sip of the margarita the waiter had set before him. “Franco Donari was a member of a cult group located in Fiero, Italy. It was a fairly small group, a dozen or so, whose members bragged that they were of the true blood and had all kinds of rituals and ceremonies to glorify themselves.”

“They actually thought they were vampires?”

“Yes, or on their way. They conveniently forgot the stories about the effects of garlic, or crosses, or melting in the sunlight. That would have been uncomfortable. But they embraced the power and the fear.”

“Ridiculous.”

“I can’t argue with you there, but they’d bought into the idea and developed it along the lines they wanted it to go. They looked upon themselves as scholars above the rest of humanity. When Jelak discovered them, he thought he’d found a home. But to his chagrin he found that it wasn’t that easy. He couldn’t just join the fraternity. He had to earn his way.”

“Killing?” Jane asked.

He nodded. “And the ingesting of the blood. The cult doctrine preached that eternal life and godlike powers could only be attained by taking the life and blood of many truly exceptional victims. That way he could gain all their strength and power until he reached his exalted state. It was supposedly an odyssey that could take years.”

“He killed a prostitute last night,” Joe said. “That wasn’t very selective.”

“No, that may have just been a gesture of defiance. Or he could have reached out and took her to soothe the hunger.”

“Hunger?” Eve said.

“Donari says that after years of continuous blood taking, Jelak probably developed an appetite that had to be appeased. That’s why Donari told Jelak that he should find a host that would provide him with basic sustenance and free him to search out his exceptional kills.” He took another drink. “Jelak told him that he had someone in mind. He didn’t give him a name, or I’d have been able to locate Jelak a hell of a lot sooner.”

“Kistle,” Eve said.

“Probably. I’d bet that he was hovering around Kistle like a vulture.” He met her gaze across the table. “He let Kistle do his work for him. When Kistle made a kill, he’d follow him and take the blood he needed from the victim. Of course, it was only an appeasement. I understand Kistle was big on killing children, and they usually don’t have time to become exceptional.”

She flinched. “I disagree. Every life is exceptional.”

He nodded. “I’m speaking from Jelak’s point of view.”

“It’s a hideous point of view.” She looked down into her drink. “So he was stirred into moving when we went after Kistle?”

“You killed his host, and that was a major inconvenience. He’d have to do his own basic feed killing, and that would keep him from concentrating on reaching his ultimate goal.”

“The goblet,” Joe reminded him.

“The goblet was part of the cult ritual. The man standing before the table was the one who took the gift of life. The other men at the table represented the stages that the candidate would have to go through before he reached his goal. The goblet was to be used only for specific purposes. A truly exceptional kill or perhaps a warning. It was never used on one considered unworthy.”

“The goblet in my refrigerator,” Eve murmured.

“A warning,” Caleb said. “And so was the death of Nancy Jo Norris. He considered you very special and wanted to make sure you made the connection. But he must have found Nancy Jo’s blood superior because he left her the goblet.”

“And the prostitute in the park?”

“Not worthy of full ritual.”

“This Donari gave you chapter and verse about his cult, didn’t he?” Jane asked.

“With a good deal of persuasion. Yes, he was very helpful.”

“You said he was Jelak’s teacher. What did he teach him?”

“Burglary, lock picking, the art of choosing a host, how to slit a throat in two seconds. Any number of other skills.”

“All very good skills for his chosen career.” Jane was studying Caleb’s face. “And where is Donari now?”

“He’s no longer with us.” He met her gaze. “Neither are any other members of the cult. After Donari died, they took off from Fiero in quite a hurry. It took me years to track them all down.”

“You said there were a dozen in the cult,” Eve said.

“Yes.” He lifted his drink to his lips. “And they stood by and let Jelak experiment with Maria Givano. I thought it time that we said good-bye to that particular cult.”

He’s a powerhouse.

Eve remembered Jane’s words as she gazed at Caleb. Power and deadliness and relentless energy.

“Then the goblet was omitted because Jelak didn’t consider Heather Carmello worthy,” Joe said.

“More than probably. You can be sure if the victim had been our lovely Jane that we would have found a goblet.”

“Be quiet,” Joe said. “That wasn’t necessary, Caleb.”

“No, but it bothers you more than it does Jane.” He lifted his glass to Jane. “Which I admit might have been my intention. Well, have I told you all you want to know, Quinn?”

“Maybe. Except about yourself.”

His brows rose. “I thought I’d been very frank.”

“Perhaps too frank. You’re not stupid, and yet you as much as admitted to multiple homicide.”

“You’d have to prove it. And as you say, I’m not stupid enough to let you do that. I just wanted to give you—”

Jane’s cell phone rang, and she glanced at the ID. “I’m sorry, I have to answer this. It’s Patty Avery.” She pushed her chair back. “I’ll take it in the bar.”

Joe watched her cross the restaurant before he turned back to Caleb. “What did you want to give me?”

“The knowledge that I’m totally committed to getting Jelak.” Caleb leaned forward, his dark eyes glittering and intense. “What do you say, Quinn,” he said softly. “Let’s go hunting.”

Damn, he was persuasive, Eve thought. She couldn’t keep her gaze from his face. At that moment, his intensity was almost hypnotic.

Evidently not to Joe. He leaned back and shook his head. “I plan on going hunting. But you’re not invited.”

“Yes I am. Or you wouldn’t have brought me here tonight. You said you wanted information. I gave it to you. Now let me help you find him.”

“So that you can kill him. We don’t want the same thing, Caleb.”

“Actually, we do. I’ve done my research on you, Quinn. Ex-SEAL, former FBI agent. That’s an odd balancing act. Violence and law. With which are you most comfortable?”