Patterson, James - Alex Cross 7 - Violets Are Blue

We stopped at a small bar called The Knoll on the way back to the hotel. It looked like a quiet place to have a drink and talk. Kyle and I often did this when we were on the road together.

'So how are you doing, Alex?' Kyle asked after he'd taken a sip of Anchor Steam. 'You all right? Holding up so far? I know you don't like being away from Nana and the kids. I'm sorry about that. Can't be helped. This is a big case.'

I was too tired to argue with him. 'In the words of Tiger Woods, “I didn't have my A game today.” I'm a little stumped, Kyle. This is all new and all bad.'

He nodded and said, 'I don't mean today. Overall. In general. On balance. How the hell are you doing? You seem tense to me. We've all been noticing it, Alex. You don't volunteer much at St Anthony's anymore. Little things like that.'

I looked at him, studied his intense, brown eyes. He was a friend, but Kyle was also a calculating man. He wanted something. What was he after? What thoughts were going through his mind?

'On balance, I'm totally fucked. No, I'm okay. I'm happy with the way the kids are doing. Little Alex is the best antidote for anything. Damon and Jannie are doing fine. I still miss Christine, I miss her a lot. I'm troubled about how much time I spend investigating the sickest, most fucked-up crimes that anyone can conjure up. Other than that, I'm just fine.'

Kyle said,'You're in demand because you're good at this. That's just the way it is. Your instincts, your emotional IQ/ something sets you apart from the other cops.'

'Maybe I'd rather not be so good anymore. Maybe I'm not. The murder cases have affected every aspect of my life. I'm afraid they're changing who I am. Tell me about Betsey Cavalierre. Anything on the case? There must be something.'

Kyle shook his head. His eyes showed concern. 'There's absolutely nothing on her murder, Alex. Nothing on the Mastermind either. That prick still calling you any time of day or night?'

'Yeah. He never mentions Betsey or her murder anymore.'

'We could set up another trace on your phones. I'll do that for you.'

'It won't do any good.'

Kyle continued to look deep into my eyes. I sensed he was concerned, but it was hard to tell with him. 'You think he might be watching you? Following you?'

I shook my head. 'Sometimes I get that feeling, yeah. Let me ask you something, since I have you here. Why do you keep pulling me into these messed-up cases, Kyle? We worked Casanova down in Durham, the Dunne and Goldberg kidnapping, the bank robberies. Now this piece of shit.'

Kyle didn't hesitate to spell it out.'You're the best I know, Alex.Your instincts are almost always on target. You give these investigations the best shot they could get. Sometimes you solve them, sometimes not, but you're always close. Why don't you come join us at the Bureau? I'm serious, and yes, this ;s an offer.'

There it was, Kyle's agenda for the meeting. He wanted me at Quantico with him.

I roared with laughter, and then he did too.'To tell you the truth, I don't feel close on this one, Kyle. I feel lost,' I finally admitted.

'It's still early in the game,' he said. 'The offer stands, win or lose out here. I want you to come to Quantico. I want you working close to me. There's nothing that would make me happier.'

Alex Cross 7 - Violets Are Blue

Chapter Twenty-Six

This was a good break. Better than they could have expected or hoped for. William and Michael followed the two hotshot police dicks from the station house in Brentwood. They stayed a reasonable distance back in their van. The brothers didn't particularly care if they lost them. They knew which hotel they were staying at. They knew how to find them.

They even knew their names.

Kyle Craig, FBI. A DIC from Quantico. A'big case' man. One of the Bureau's best.

Alex Cross, Washington PD. Forensic psychologist to the stars.

There was a saying that William wanted to whisper in their ears: If you hunt for the vampire, the vampire will hunt for you.

That was the truth, but it also sounded too much like a rule. William fucking hated rules. Rules made you predictable, less of an individual. Rules made you less free, less authentic, less yourself. And in the end, rules could get you caught.

William touched down lightly, tentatively, on the van's brake pedal. Maybe they shouldn't hunt the two cops down, then kill them like dogs, he was thinking. Maybe they had better things to do while they were in LA.

There was a special place here where he and Michael often went. It was called the Church of the Vampire, and it was for those who were'searching for the Dragon within'. It actually was a church: vast, high-ceilinged rooms rilled with funky old Victorian furniture, elaborate golden candelabras, human skulls and other bones, tapestries that portrayed stories of famous old blood seekers. The usual dreaded role-players came to the Church, but so did real vampires. Like William and Michael.

Exciting, very exotic, sado-erotic things happened inside the Church of the Vampire. Excruciating pain was transformed into ecstasy. William remembered his last visit, and it sent electricity shooting through his body. He had found a blond boy of seventeen. An angel, a prince. The boy was dressed all in black that night; he even had black eye contacts, absolutely gorgeous from every angle. To show William that he was a real vampire, the darling boy had punctured his own carotid artery and then drunk his own blood. Then he had asked William to drink, to be one with him. When he and Michael had hung the boy to drain him completely, it was out of love and adoration of the angel's perfect body. They were merely fulfilling their nature - to be sado-erotic.

William came out of his delicious reverie as the two cops entered a bar called The Knoll. It was just off Sunset Boulevard. Very mundane, a nothing spot. Perfect for the two of them.

'They're going drinking together,' William said to Michael. 'Cop camaraderie.'

Michael snickered and rolled his eyes. "They're just two old men. They're harmless. Toothless,' he said, and laughed at his joke.

William watched Alex Cross and Kyle Craig disappear inside.'No,' he finally spoke again. 'Let's be careful with them. One of them is extremely dangerous. I can feel his energy.'

Alex Cross 7 - Violets Are Blue

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I finally had a lead, courtesy of Jamilla's contact at the San Francisco Examiner. The chase was on, or so I hoped. The next morning I drove up Route 1 to Santa Barbara, which is located approximately sixty miles north of LA.

It was sobering and a little depressing to watch the sky actually grow bluer as I traveled away from Los Angeles and the copper-gray cover of smog thickly spread over the city.

I was to meet a man named Peter Westin at the Davidson Library in the University of California, Santa Barbara. The library was supposed to contain the most extensive collection of books on vampires and vampire mythology in the United States. Westin was the expert who had been recommended by Jamilla's contact. She warned me that Westin was thoroughly eccentric, but a definitive source on vampires, past and present.

He met me in a small private sitting room just off the library's main reading room. Peter Westin looked to be in his early forties and was dressed completely in deep purple and black. Even his fingernails were painted a shade of mauve. According to Jamilla, he owned a clothing and jewelry shop in a small mall on State Street in Santa Barbara, El Raseo. He had long black hair streaked with silver, and he was dark and dangerous looking.

'I'm Detective Alex Cross,'I said as I shook hands with Westin. His grip was strong, lacquered fingernails or no.

'I am Westin, descended fromVlad Tepes. I bid you welcome. The night air is chill and you must need to eat and rest,' he said in overly dramatic tones.