"How could she not be?" Heidi said.

"Look," Lauren insisted, "something just isn't right here."

"The fortune-teller," Deanna told Heidi gravely.

Heidi linked an arm through Lauren's. "I don't know what we're going to do with you. Wait! Brainstorm! I do know what we're going to do. I'm having a vision. It's me, and I'm standing at a c.r.a.ps table."

"You lose at c.r.a.ps all the time," Lauren said.

"And I have a h.e.l.l of a good time doing it. Come on, slave, let's trot on back over to Harrah's. I see us sunning in the late afternoon sun later. A dip in the pool will be followed by dinner. K-Paul's tonight. Then we'll hit Bourbon Street for music and jazz. Cool?"

"Cool," Lauren said, though she didn't sound convinced. Then she looked at Deanna and frowned. "You're sure you didn't take a carriage ride today? I could have sworn I saw you with a tall, dark-haired guy, like the one I saw you talking to in the bar last night."

"The cute guy?" Deanna said.

"Yeah. Were you in a carriage with him?"

"No," Deanna said.

It could be difficult to tell if Deanna was blushing, because her skin was such a beautiful shade of copper, but Lauren thought she had reddened.

As if she were lying.

"Hey, pay attention here, slaves," Heidi demanded.

They both looked at her. "Harrah's," she ordered.

Lauren let out a breath, still staring at Deanna. "Right. Harrah's," she said.

And she started to walk.

Mark had known the women would follow him, egged on by Lauren.

Luckily, they had quickly departed.

And he had gotten more of a response at the police station than he had been expecting. Of course, it had been some time since he'd been in New Orleans. Things here had changed.

At the desk, he'd informed the sergeant that he didn't have any solid information, but he knew of a European national now in the country who had been linked to various crimes overseas-crimes that left victims resembling the woman found in the Mississippi.

He had expected to give information to a bored paper-chasing officer in a cubicle somewhere.

To his surprise, he was ushered into the office of Lieutenant Sean Canady, an impressive man with steel blue eyes and a rock- hard chin.

"I understand you have information regarding the body in the river?" Canady said, taking his seat after a handshake and indicating a chair across from his desk.

"Not exactly," Mark corrected. "But I do have reason to believe that the crime may be a.s.sociated with a man named Stephan???

who I believe is in this area now."

"I see." Canady's hands were folded on his desk. "Sadly, Mr. Davidson, murder isn't unusual. Nor is decapitation, though I admit it's somewhat less common."

"No."

"So...?" Mark took a deep breath. "There are a number of ancient beliefs that suggest decapitation will prevent someone from becoming a vampire. And there's a modern belief that some vampires are careful to dispose of victims they aren't entirely...sure of.

Population control, if you will. Survival of the..."

"Hottest? Most clever?" Canady said.

The man must think he was an idiot, Mark realized. "Yes."

Canady's eyes didn't flicker. He was either trying to humor him until the padded wagon bound for the asylum arrived, or...

Or nothing surprised him at all.

Or maybe...

He'd had previous experience with vampires.

"Your suggesting there's a vampire loose in the New Orleans?" Canady said.

Mark shook his head. "No," he said. Then he took a deep breath. "No, I'm suggesting there are several."

"Look! He's up again!" Deanna said triumphantly, looking at Lauren with sheer pleasure in her eyes. "The Creature from the Black Lagoon. Bonus, bonus, bonus!"

Deanna loved the slot machines with bonus features. Especially this one.

They had both wandered away from the c.r.a.ps table after losing far too quickly, leaving Heidi, had been making all the right bets, to play on her own.

Deanna and Lauren had scaled down to the penny machines, and though the stakes were low, they were winning.

"Isn't that just great?" Deanna asked, pointing at the Creature. "Can you believe that movie actually frightened people?"

Lauren reflected on the question. "It was a long time ago. Before they could do the kind of special effects we have now."

"I don't think that creature would have frightened me, no matter what," Deanna said, grinning.

"c.o.c.ktails?" an attractively and scantily attired waitress asked, interrupting their conversation.

Deanna looked at her watch. "Sure."

"Remember sleepwalking?" Lauren asked softly.

Deanna waved a hand in the air. "It's almost five o'clock."

"It's three o'clock."

"Close enough. Rum and c.o.ke, please. And you, quit acting like my mom. This is supposed to be a wild weekend."

"A light beer, please," Lauren said.

"Wow. Going all out," Deanna teased. Lauren looked hard at her friend. Deanna was super-model gorgeous, with her height and exotic features and coloring. It was hard to mistake her for anyone else.

"You really didn't go for a carriage ride today?" Lauren asked her.

Deanna stared at her. "No."

"Where were you?"

"Where were you?"

"Looking for you."

Deanna "I left Heidi trying on her twenty-fifth hat and wandered into a few stores."

Lauren was sure she could see color suffusing her friend's cheeks again.

"What aren't you telling me?" Lauren asked.

Deanna shrugged. "I ran into that guy from the bar last night."

"Oh?" Lauren felt a strange surge of unease. "That's who I thought you were with in the carriage."

"How strange," Deanna murmured, then looked at Lauren again.

"What?" Lauren persisted.

"There was a carriage-well, there are lots of carriages in New Orleans-and I was tempted to take a ride, but then I saw Jonas."

"Jonas?"

"The guy from the bar."

"And then?" Lauren persisted.

"We chatted, he said he'd hoped we'd run into each other again tonight, he left, I found Heidi, and then we found you. And the hunk-next-door."

"The scary hunk-next-door," Lauren said.

Deanna let out a laugh. "You know what's scary about him?"

"What?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Your reaction. You're afraid to get close to anyone. You're afraid to so much as have lunch with someone. And you need to get over it. Here's what I think. You're actually attracted to this guy, s.e.xually, attracted, so you're trying to push him away. You don't want to be hurt, to lose someone again."

"Thank you, Dr. Deanna." "Give the guy a chance, why don't you?"

"I was perfectly nice to him at lunch."

"He's looking for more than lunch. And I think you are, too."

Lauren felt her own cheeks redden. She was paler than her friend. Deanna didn't have to blink to realize she'd struck a chord.

"You feel it, don't you?"

"I feel what?"

"The desire to...well, I was going to say jump his bones, but it's you, so I'll just say the desire."

Lauren groaned and rose, stretching.

"Where do you think you're going? We just ordered drinks from a hard working waitress. At least wait for her to come back so we can get our drinks and give her a tip, huh?"

"Oh, all right," Lauren said. To kill time, she hit the b.u.t.ton on the slot machine, then watched as five Creatures from the Black Lagoon appeared neatly in a row across the screen.

Bells started ringing.

"Fifty-thousand pennies!" Deanna said delightedly. "You just won five hundred dollars."

"Now that's cool," Lauren had to agree.

The bells were still ringing, and people around them were coming to check out her winnings. There were much larger jackpots to be had, she was certain, but fifty thousand cents was definitely fun, and most people seemed cheerful, apparently happy to see someone get the better of the house.

There was one cranky old fellow, though, who walked by them muttering, "That was my jackpot. That thing cleaned out my pockets"

At least the rest of the place seemed happy. The attendant was happy signing their sheet, and once they got their drinks and duly tipped the waitress, the cashier was pleased to give them their money. It really wasn't that much. The man in front of them was cashing in five thousand in poker chips.

"It isn't the amount; it's the excitement of the win," Deanna told her.

"I'll bet you the excitement of a five-thousand-dollar win must feel pretty good, too," Lauren said, but she was laughing. It really had been fun.

And they'd all but forgotten Heidi.

"c.r.a.ps tables," they said at the same time.

Their timing was great. They got there just as Heidi, who had apparently been on a roll, c.r.a.pped out. The table cheered her when she got up, looking flushed and happy.

"Hey, you can't go now, lady luck!" a nicely dressed middle-aged woman called to her.