Violets Are Blue

in so many cities, praying for a chance to serve the Sire.
    As he descended the steps, Daniel broke into a smile. He saw the captive, the slave, and he was well pleased.
    He went to the boy, who looked to be eighteen or nineteen, and spoke to him. “I’m here now. It’s so good to meet you. You’re astonishing.” The boy was tall, perhaps six feet two. He had closely cropped blond hair, supple limbs, full lips that were accented with the most delicate silver rings. His lips were rosy red, outstanding.
    “He’s pouting. He looks so sad. Let him loose,” Daniel commanded the slave Hellenga. “What is the poor boy’s name?”
    “His name is Edward Haggerty, Sire. He’s a freshman at Louisiana State. He is your servant,” said George Hellenga, who was now visibly trembling.
    Edward Haggerty’s slender hands were manacled to the brick wall. He wore silver thong underwear, a silver ankle bracelet. Nothing else. He was a magnificent creature, slender, toned, perfect in every way.
    George Hellenga stole a nervous look at the Sire. “He might run if we let him loose, sir.”
    Daniel reached out his arms to the beautiful boy and held him tenderly, as he would a small child. He kissed his cheek, his forehead, and those astonishing red lips.
    “You won’t run away?” he asked in a soft, soothing voice.
    “Not from you,” the boy answered, just as softly. “You are the Sire, and I am nothing.”
    Daniel smiled. It was the perfect answer.

Chapter 59

    MY PHONE rang early in the morning, and I snatched it up. It was Kyle. In his slow and deliberate voice, he told me that Daniel and Charles had disappeared the previous night. He was furious at his agents. I’d never heard him so angry. So far, no murders had been reported that night in and around New Orleans. About six that morning, the magicians had showed up at their house in the Garden District.
Where had they been all night? What had happened? Something had
.
    I stayed in Washington that day, still recuperating from the cellulitis. I studied Daniel and Charles, and wrote a preliminary profile on them to compare with the one being done in Quantico. The first important bit of information was that the magicians had definitely performed in Savannah, Charleston, and Las Vegas. I was working with a couple of techies in Quantico, and they not only matched up the magicians’ tour with about half of the murders but verified that Daniel and Charles had definitely performed in those cities and were there when the murders had taken place. Another useful nugget was that the tigers traveled with Daniel and Charles only for booking dates that lasted at least a week. The magicians were scheduled to perform in New Orleans for the next three weeks. They also owned a house there, in the Garden District.
    I shared what I had found with Quantico, and they put it into the file they were amassing. I also faxed everything to Jamilla Hughes in San Francisco. She was trying her best to get down to New Orleans, but her boss hadn’t made a final decision yet.
    I put in another call to Kyle on the matter. He hemmed and hawed, but finally promised to see if he could get Inspector Hughes sprung for a few days. After all, it had started with her case.
    I was becoming frustrated at home. I felt as if I were on a stakeout in my own bedroom — with nothing to observe firsthand. The consolation was that I was with little Alex for long patches of the day and that I got to see more of Damon and Jannie. But I was feeling a little like the forgotten man on the murder case.
    I went to see Dr. Prahbu at St. Anthony’s that afternoon. The doctor examined me, then reluctantly gave me clearance to go back to work. He told me to take it easy for the next few days.
    “How
did
you get those bites?” he asked again. “You never told me, Detective.”
    “Yes, I did,” I said. “Vampires in North Carolina.”
    I thanked the doctor for his help, then went home to pack for a trip to New Orleans. I was a little unsteady, but I couldn’t wait to get there. Nana didn’t bother to give me the business when I left Washington this time. She was angry because I’d been so ill from the infected bites.
    I flew into New Orleans International Airport that afternoon, then I took an old yellow cab to the Big Easy. A message was waiting at the front desk of my hotel, which was the Dauphine Orleans. I opened the small envelope hesitantly, but it was good news. Inspector Hughes was on her way to New