Falling into the night, into the abyss.

No, no, no! It wasn't happening. She had to fight it.

At last, with a jerk and gasp, Lauren managed to shake herself awake. In a raw panic, she stared around the room.

The windows were closed.

The drapes lay still.

There was no man standing inside her room.

She inhaled, exhaled, and realized she had tangled the covers in her nightmare. She was sweat slicked and clammy, and her heart was thundering.

"It was a dream," she told herself aloud.

Just a dream.But she remained afraid. She rose and turned on the light, then went into the bathroom and turned on the light there, before splashing her face with cold water.

She breathed deeply again, staring at her face in the mirror. She looked like a wild woman. She smoothed down her hair, washed her face a second time for good measure, and looked again. The wide-eyed panic was at last fading from her eyes.

But a sense of somehow being violated stayed with her.

She left her room and went down the hall. Heidi's door was ajar. She peeked in. Heidi was curled beneath the covers, hugging the extra pillow. She appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

Lauren continued down the hallway. The door to Lauren's room was open. Big Jim was no longer on duty, but Bobby was there, reading a gun manual.

He looked up. "Hey," he said softly.

"Hey. Is everything all right?"

"Fine. Deanna woke up hungry again. She seems to be doing just fine."

"Thank G.o.d."

"Are you sure you're all right?" Bobby asked her.

"Yes. I just can't sleep is all." She walked closer to Deanna. Her friend's color was much better. She was breathing deeply, and seemed to be sleeping peacefully. No dreams were plaguing her.

"I told you. She's fine," Bobby said.

"I believe you," she said, smiling as she turned and stretched. She was still tired, but there was no way in h.e.l.l she was going to go back to sleep. "Hey, why don't you go to bed? You have to go to work in the morning, I a.s.sume."

He grinned. "Actually, I'm a.s.signed to the house right now."

"I can't sleep, Bobby. You might as well get some rest."

"Are you sure?"

"I promise you, I'm not going to be able to go back to sleep."

"All right, then. The house is protected. And if anything happens-and I do mean anything at all-just let out a good loud scream.

One of us will be with you in two seconds. Okay? And don't worry about a false alarm. It's better to get us up for nothing than to second guess your fear and end up dead-or worse."

She thought about telling him about her dream. No. She didn't want anyone to worry about her when there was so much going on. Besides, talking about it would make it seem more real in her own mind, and she wasn't about to make Stephan any more real than he already was.

When she saw Mark again, she would tell him. Then again, maybe she wouldn't. Maybe, by day, she could get to a library. She would ask someone to go with her, find some excuse.

Was she actually distrusting Mark? she asked herself. Because of something that Stephan had said to her in a dream?

No, she a.s.sured herself, thought it was true that she didn't really know him. Yes, she did, she argued with herself.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Bobby asked.

"Absolutely. Honestly. Go-get some rest."

He nodded and left her.

For a few moments she moved restlessly around the room. But then she decided to read for a while. Bobby's manual didn't seem very interesting, but there were all kinds of things to choose from in the bookcase. She chose one on pirates in New Orleans and took a seat in Bobby's chair. She glanced at Deanna again and was glad to see that her friend was still just fine.

With a sigh, she began to read, then gave herself a shake and realized she wasn't comprehending anything she was reading. She was falling asleep.

Great. She had to stay awake.

She turned on the television that sat on top of the dresser, glad that every room had a TV and cable. Robin Hood: Men in Tights was on. A comedy. Good.

She looked at Deanna again to make sure the television wasn't disturbing her. It wasn't. She sat down again. Between the book and the television, she should manage to stay awake.

And she did. But when the movie ended and Bram Stoker's Dracula came on she rose quickly and switched the channel to the news.

But the news was about the fact that police up and down the Mississippi River were still looking for the murderer responsible for the deaths of at least three women, and she quickly changed the channel again and found an old episode of La.s.sie. Big surprise, she thought. Timmy was in trouble again.

She tried to read, but once again her lids grew heavy.

I will stay awake, she vowed to herself. I will.

Down, down, down...

They crashed to the pavement, and he landed on top, but despite that, she was apparently unhurt and only laughed again.

Mark looked up and down the street. Far away, down near Harrah's, there seemed to be activity. In the other direction, the T- shirt shop next to the hotel apparently never closed. Light was streaming from the door. But there was no one immediately near them.

She started clawing for his throat again, so he put his fingers around hers.

She fought. She struggled.

He used all his strength. All the tactics he had learned. She was unbelievably strong, but finally he felt the snap. He'd broken her neck. She was still looking up at him, but now her head was tilted at a gruesome angle.

"Blood, blood, blood!" she repeated.

There was some discarded construction material lying out by the curb. He kept a grip on her and rolled toward it.She saw his intent and tried futilely to straighten her head.

Too late. He found a ragged two by four and thrust it into her chest as hard as he could.

From somewhere nearby, a woman screamed in horror. "Murder!"

The girl beneath Mark stared up at him, her eyes growing wide. Her deep gasp sounded like a balloon being deflated. Blood gurgled from her lips as she began to turn black...

And exploded into soot beneath him.

Covered with it, blackened, Mark rose. He heard the wail of a police cruiser in the distance, and he turned and ran, the shadows.

He found one, aware of footsteps pounding behind him as he disappeared into the darkness.

He couldn't be accused of anything, because she had been old. Very old. There would be no murder charge because there would be no body....

He headed down the street. In the distance, he could still hear the woman screaming about murder.

She could hear a rapping.

No, it was a pounding.

It broke into the deep and dreamless sleep into which Lauren had fallen, curled into the comfortable chair.

She opened her eyes.

Yes, it was pounding. And it was coming from...

The front door.

Her eyes flew open, and she immediately looked over to the bed.

Empty!

Lauren sprang to her feet and raced into the hall, then down the stairs. Deanna was standing at the front door. And it was open.

Hair disheveled, looking barely awake, Stacey-with Bobby at her heels-nearly crashed into Lauren.

"Deanna!" Lauren cried.

As she spoke, a man stumbled in. He was wearing jeans and a Killers T-shirt.

He was covered in blood, and he crashed to the floor in the entryway.

Jonas.

15.

M ark thanked G.o.d that the city hadn't changed much. He was able to make his way back into the Quarter easily enough. Once there, he realized what time it was.Daylight would come soon. He needed to get back to the house on Bourbon Street, steal a few hours of rest and get moving again. It occurred to him that he should be circling the lake looking for Stephan's lair.

It was a huge lake, so he needed to get started early. If he could just get a little sleep and then get going, he could cover a lot of ground.

It wasn't yet morning when he arrived at the house, but he felt every muscle tense as he stared up at the beautiful old manor on Bourbon Street.

It was ablaze with light.

He started to run, opened the gate and sprinted for the front door. He was shocked to find it unlocked.

He pushed it open, then frowned as he closed it and looked around the foyer.

They were all there: Big Jim, Bobby, Stacey, Lauren, Heidi-and Deanna. Along with someone else.

Jonas.

The vampire, bare-chested as Stacey washed his wounds, sat in a chair, evidently describing whatever had brought him to his current state. Deanna was seated at his feet, holding his hand, looking up at him with wide and adoring eyes.

Big Jim and Bobby noticed Mark first, followed by the others. Lauren let out a little cry, staring at him.

"I'm all right; it's...grime, that's all," he said. Then he looked at Jonas and knew his voice was thick with suspicion when he asked, "What the h.e.l.l happened to you?"

"I killed him!" Jonas said triumphantly.

"Stephan?" Mark said.

Jonas's smile faded. "No," he admitted. "But one of his right hand men. And he's dead now. Deader than a door nail. He went up in a puff of..." He paused, getting a good look at Mark. "Soot," he said weakly.

"He's hurt," Deanna said reproachfully. "Leave him alone."

Mark stared at her sharply. She looked much better than someone who'd just woken up from a coma had a right to.

He stared at Big Jim. "Who let him in?" he demanded. Too harshly, he thought with a wince.

"I did," Deanna said, carefully getting to her feet.

"Oh?" He looked at the others.

Lauren stepped closer, staring at him. She was tall, wearing a plain sleep shirt, yet she looked as elegant as a queen. Her eyes were such a brilliant blue, and her hair was like a cascade of the sun's rays down her back. If she were differently dressed, if it were a different time, she really might have been Katie.