Violets Are Blue

this right here and now. Let’s settle it! Here I am, you bastard!” He didn’t call back to me, didn’t answer.
    Then I heard a footstep behind me. I whirled around at the Mastermind.
    “Alex,
what
is going on out here? When did you get home? Who are you talking to?”
    It was Nana, and she looked very small, and frightened. She came up and hugged me tight.

Chapter 53

    I WOKE up in bad shape around six the next morning. There was blotchy redness and intense heat around the bites. The wounds throbbed. I noticed a nasty puslike drainage from the bite on my hand. It was swollen to nearly twice its normal size. This was not good. I was sick as a dog, and it was the last thing I needed right now.
    I drove myself to the St. Anthony’s Hospital ER, where I found out that I was spiking a fever. My temperature was a hundred and three.
    The emergency room doctor who examined me was a tall Pakistani named Dr. Prahbu. He could have been one of the sons in the movie
East Is East
. He said that the most likely cause of the cellulitis was staphylococcus, which was a common bacteria found in the mouth.
    “How is it that you were bitten?” he wanted to know. I suspected that he wasn’t going to like my answer, but I gave it anyway. “I was subduing a vampire,” I said.
    “No, seriously, Detective Cross. How did you come to be bitten?” he asked a second time. “I am a serious person and this is a serious question. I need to know this.”
    “I am completely serious. I’m part of the team investigating vampire killers. I was bitten by a man with fangs.”
    “Okay, fine, Detective. Whatever you say.”
    I was given tests in the ER: a CBC and differential count, sedimentation rate, and a culture and sensitivity test on the drainage from the wounds. Blood cultures would be studied. I told Dr. Prahbu that I needed copies of his findings. The hospital didn’t want to give them over to me, but they finally relented and faxed the results to Quantico.
    I was sent home with a prescription for a drug called Keflex. I was to keep my infected arm elevated and administer Domeboro soaks every four hours.
    I was too sick to do much of anything by the time I got home. I lay in bed and listened to “Elliot in the Morning” on the radio. Nana and the kids hovered around me. Nausea swept over me really bad; I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t concentrate on anything except the painful throbbing in my shoulder and hand. I became delirious for several hours.
    Now you’re one of us.
    I finally fell asleep, but I woke up around one in the morning. The witching hours. I felt even worse. I was afraid the phone would ring and it would be the Mastermind.
    Someone was in the room with me.
    I sighed when I saw who it was.
    Jannie was sitting in the chair by my bed, keeping watch over me.
    “Just like you did when I was sick last year,” she said. “Now sleep, Daddy. Just sleep. Rest up. And don’t you dare turn into a vampire on me.”
    I didn’t answer Jannie. I couldn’t even manage a few words. I drifted off to sleep again.

Chapter 54

    NO ONE would expect this, and that was why it was so good, so excellent. The end of Alex Cross.
    It was time for it to happen. Maybe it was overdue. Cross had to die.
    The Mastermind was inside the Cross house, and it was as exciting and extraordinary an experience as he had imagined it would be. He’d never felt more powerful than he did standing in the dark living room at a little past three in the morning. He had won the battle between the two of them. The Mastermind had triumphed. Cross was the loser. Tomorrow, all of Washington would be mourning his death.
    He could do anything — so what should he do first?
    He wanted to sit and think about it. No need to rush. Where would he choose to sit? Why of course, on Cross’s bench at his piano on the sunporch. Cross’s favorite spot for relaxation and escape, the place he liked to play with his children, smarmy, sentimental bastard that he was.
    The Mastermind was tempted to play something, perhaps a little Gershwin, to show Cross that even his command of the piano was superior. He wanted to announce himself in a dramatic fashion. This was so good, so delicious. He never wanted tonight to end.
    But was it the absolute best he could do? It had to be a night he would never forget, something to savor always. A souvenir that would have great meaning to him, only to him.
    There were two triangles that explained his complex relationship