Blood Price

what the mortal world called dreaming.

    He sat up and paused in mid-stretch, suddenly uneasy. In absolute silence he moved off the bed and across the carpet to the bedroom door. If there was a life in the apartment, he'd sense it.

    The apartment was empty,- but the disquiet remained.

    He showered and dressed, becoming more and more certain that something was wrong-worrying at the feeling, poking and prodding at it, trying to force an understanding. When he went down to the desk to pick up his package, the feeling grew. The civilized mask managed to exchange pleasantries with Greg and flirt a little with old Mrs. McKensie while the rest of him sorted through a myriad of sensations, searching for the danger.

    Heading back to the elevator, he felt the security guard's eyes on him so he turned and half smiled as the doors opened and he stepped inside. The closing slabs of stainless steel cut off Greg's answering expression. Whatever was bothering the old man, he'd have to deal with later.

    * * *
    "Private Investigations. Nelson." As she had no way of knowing what callers were potential clients, she'd decided to assume they all were. Her mother objected, but then her mother objected to a number of things she had no intention of changing.

    "Vicki, it's Henry. Look, I think you should come over here tonight."

    "Why? Have you turned up something new we should talk about before you head out?"

    "I'm not heading out."

    "What?" She swung her feet down off her desk and glared at the phone. "You better have a good reason for staying home."

    She heard him sigh. "No, not exactly. I've just got this feeling."

    Vicki snorted. "Vampire intuition?"

    "If you like."

    "So you're just going to stay home tonight because you're got a feeling? "

    "Essentially, yes."

    "Just letting demons run loose all over the city while you ride a hunch?"

    "I don't think there'll be any demons tonight."

    "What? Why not?"

    "Because of what happened last night. When the power of God reached out and said, 'No.' "

    "Say what?"

    "I don't really understand myself. . . ."

    "What happened last night, Fitzroy?" She growled out the question through clenched teeth.
    She'd interviewed hostile witnesses who'd been more generous with details.

    "Look, I'll tell you when you get here." He did not want to explain a religious experience to a woman raised in the twentieth century over the phone. He'd have enough trouble convincing her of what had happened face-to-face.

    "Does this feeling have anything to do with what happened last night?"

    "No."

    "Then why. . . ."

    "Listen, Vicki, over time I've learned to trust my feelings. And surely you've ridden a few hunches in the past?"

    Vicki pushed her glasses up her nose. She didn't have much choice when it came right down to it-she had to believe he knew what he was doing. Believing in vampires had been easier.
    "Okay, I've got a few things to take care of here, but I'll be over as soon as I can."

    "All right."

    He sounded so different than he had on other occasions that she frowned. "Henry, is something wrong?"

    "Yes. . . . No. . . ." He sighed again. "Just come over when you can."

    "Listen, I have a . . . damn him!" Vicki stared at the receiver, the loud buzz of the dial tone informing her that Henry Fitzroy didn't care what she had. And yet she was supposed to drop everything and hurry over there because he had a feeling. "That's just what I need," she muttered, digging around in her bag, "a depressed vampire."

    The list the computer science professor had finally given her held twenty-three names, students he figured would actually be able to make use of the potential of the stolen computer system. Although, as he'd pointed out, the most sophisticated of home systems were often used for no better purpose than games. "And even you could run one under those parameters," he'd added. He had no idea which ones of the twenty-three wore black leather jackets. It just wasn't the sort of thing he paid attention to.

    "Have any of them been acting strangely lately?"

    He'd smiled wearily. "Ms. Nelson, this lot doesn't act any way but strangely."

    Vicki checked her watch. 9:27. How had it gotten so damned late? On the off chance that Celluci might finally be at his desk-he hadn't been in since she'd started trying to reach him around four in the afternoon-she called headquarters. He still wasn't there. Nor was he at home.

    Leaving yet another message, she hung up. "Well, he can't say I didn't try to pass on