In the Blood (27 page)

Fell shrank from her touch, regarding her fearfully. "Aren't you going to kill me?"

"No. Look, I'm sorry about hurting you like that, but it was the only way I could get
you to come out. Now, let's go! There's someone you need to meet."

"Who?"

"Your daughter."

18

Palmer leaned against the headboard of the bed, cradling Lethe in the corner of his
left arm while holding her bottle in his right. He was amazed something so tiny
could possess such an appetite. He didn't look up at the sound of the hotel room
door being unlocked.

"That you, Sonja?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"You know, you were right about her, Sonja. She's not like the other one! She's got
such tiny fingers! And each one has a perfect little fingernail..."

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"Uh, Palmer? We got company."

Palmer stared at the young man standing next to Sonja. One side of his face looked
like someone had used a tenderizer on it. There was blood crusted on his nose and
right brow. He shifted uneasily, like a schoolboy brought before the principal.

"Palmer, this is Fell. Lethe's father."

"Is-is that her?" Fell's voice was almost a whisper.

Sonja nodded. "Sure is."

Fell took a hesitant step forward. "Can I hold her?"

"I don't see why not," Sonja said. "After all, she's your daughter."

Fell moved to take the baby. Palmer frowned and tightened his hold on Lethe,
pressing her tightly against his chest.

"It's okay, Palmer. Fell's his own man now."

Grudgingly, Palmer surrendered Lethe to her father's embrace. Fell's bruised lips
pulled into a smile at the sight of his daughter's face.

"She's beautiful! She looks so very much like Anise." Fell's voice began to shake. He
sat on the end of the bed, the baby in his lap gurgling and cooing contentedly. "This
is happening too fast. There's too much to think, too much I'm remembering!"

Sonja knelt beside Fell, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Start from the beginning.

Who are you really?"

"My name is-was?-Timothy Sorrell. I was a sophomore at Berkeley. English Major.

I'm from Indiana, originally. My parents and older sister were killed in a car crash
when I was ten.

"I got passed around a lot by my relatives. They were good people, but they didn't
know what to make of me, so they left me to my own devices. I was a morbid child.

Fascinated and terrified by death at the same time. I really got into stuff like
vampires, ghouls-the undead. By the time I went to college, I dressed in black all the
time and spent most of my money on occult literature.

"My first few months at Berkeley were okay. I even met people who didn't think I
was all that weird! But during my sophomore year I started having these... dreams."

"What kind of dreams?"

"Bad ones. Full of blood and walking dead things. When I was younger I used to
dream I was a vampire, but these were different. In the old dreams, I played
Christopher Lee or Frank Langella, seducing nubile young women. But these newer
dreams... They were different.

"Sometimes I'd see myself and I looked like a rotting corpse. My victims weren't
beautiful women but old bag ladies and scuzzy-looking whores-they screamed and
tried to get away instead of surrendering, so I hurt them even more for trying to
escape. It wasn't at all like in the movies!

"But what scared me the most was the pleasure I got from watching them scream
and die. I'd always been considered eccentric, but this was the first time I was
honestly worried about my own sanity. That's when I decided to seek professional
help.

"Dr. Caron was highly recommended." Fell laughed, the sound dry and brittle. "He
seemed to understand what I was going through. Soon after I began seeing him the
nightmares returned to the old familiar erotic dreams. He told me I should not feel

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ashamed for being... well, dissatisfied with my station in life. After a few sessions, he
invited me to partake in a special experimental therapy session at his estate in the
Sonoma Valley. I think you know the rest."

Sonja nodded. "He picked people who wouldn't be readily missed and displayed
certain... tendencies he could work to his advantage. Of the ten he hand-picked, you
and Anise were the only ones to survive, am I right?"

Fell nodded, looking down at his daughter, who was innocently playing with one of
his blood-smeared fingers. "It was horrible-I can still hear the screams, even now.

But, in a weird way, it wasn't all bad.

"I remember thinking how beautiful Anise was back... back when we were human. I
knew I didn't stand a chance with a woman like that. I was kind of surprised she
was even in the group. She seemed so together. I was happy for the first time in my
life-or after it. I know now that Anise never really cared for me-that, unconsciously,
she was only doing Morgan's bidding. But Morgan didn't have to make me love her!

That's why losing her hurt so much. It was real love, not pretend!

"When Morgan told me that you'd killed both her and the baby, I went mad. I
wanted to avenge myself and prove to Morgan that I was worthy to be his son." His
laugh was bitter. "So what do I do now?"

"You come with us to the Yucatan. Raise your child in peace."

"How can I? Look at me! I'm not human!"

"Neither am I. Nor is your child. Fell, you don't have to go through this alone. I
know what you're feeling! I can teach you how to master your powers! That's a
luxury I never had. I learned things on the streets, the hard way. There's still plenty
of things I don't know or understand, but maybe, together, that'll change. But I
can

tell you that the next stage of your development will be dangerous, and if you're not
careful, it will cost you your soul."

"You mean I still have one?"

"You're not truly undead, Fell. You never died. Just like I never did. Usually it
takes years for a vampire to reclaim the intellect and memory he had before his
resurrection. Some never do. The only difference between the two of us was that I
was a fluke, while you were deliberately created.

"I'm not sure how, but Morgan succeeded in altering your genetic structure into
that of a vampire's without killing you. Right now you're still more human than
vampire-that's why you were able to impregnate Anise-but soon the vampiric side of
your personality is going to emerge. And, believe me, you're going to need advice on
how to control it. There's no going back to what you were, Fell. Adapt or die. Those
are your only choices."

"What about Morgan? He's not going to simply let us go."

"I'm well aware of that. I promised Anise I'd protect her baby from Morgan.

There's only one way I can do that, and that's kill him."

There was still enough of the old programming clinging to Fell's synapses to make
her words sound blasphemous. "Do you think you can really do that?"

"There's no way around it, Fell! As long as Morgan continues, we'll be constantly
looking over our shoulders. We'll never know a moment of peace without wondering
when he'll make his next move. We won't be safe and, more to the point, neither will

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Lethe. It's got to be done."

"When?"

"How about tonight?"

Palmer jumped up, making "time-out" gestures with his hands. "Now wait a
minute! What happens if you end up getting killed instead of Morgan? What then?"

"If I'm not back at dawn, take Fell and Lethe to the airport. There are one way
tickets to Mérida waiting for you at the Taca International desk. Once you've
arrived in Mérida, check into the Smoking Gods Hotel. The manager there is
holding an envelope that, essentially, transfers Indigo Imports-and all its assets-over
to you. It's the best I could do on such short notice."

Palmer frowned. "You had this planned, didn't you?"

She shrugged. "I told you I'd take care of things, didn't I? You were planning on
retiring from the detective racket, anyway. Now you can relax and sell stuffed toad
mariachi bands and Day of the Dead tableaux to trendy Manhattan boutiques, just
like you always dreamed."

"I'm going with you."

Sonja glanced down at Fell, still holding his newborn daughter in his arms. "Are
you sure about that?"

"The bastard used me! He preyed on my weaknesses and exploited me! If I don't
deserve to help kill him, who does?"

Sonja nodded. "We'll take the car. I'm betting he won't expect us to move against
him so quickly. In fact, it's likely he thinks I've killed you by now."

"What about me?" asked Palmer.

"I need you to look after Lethe and make sure our luggage is ready. If you don't
hear from us come dawn, take a cab to the airport and do what I told you."

"But-"

Sonja took Palmer's hands into her own and squeezed them gently. He felt her voice
inside him, whispering in his brain.

I have to do this, Palmer. You can't stop me from going. We both know that. But
please try to understand why.

Palmer struggled to answer her on the same plane and was surprised to hear his
own disembodied voice echoing inside his head.

I understand. At least in part. I need you. Please come back.

You're going to do just fine, whether I'm with you or not.

That's not what I meant.

Oh.

She smiled, and it was as if she were sixteen and human again. Palmer turned to
retrieve Lethe from her father. The poor bastard looked like a mile of bad road.

"Don't worry. I'll take good care of your baby." Palmer smiled, doing his best to
reassure Fell. "I used to have a kid, myself, a long time ago."

Palmer didn't like what was happening at all, but there wasn't much he could do
about it. When it came down to battling powerful six-hundred-year-old vampire
lords, twenty-five years of street-smarts weren't much help.

Still, a part of him chafed at being ordered to mind the baby and pack the bags. Not

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that he resented looking after Lethe. If anything, he was astonished by how easily
the golden-eyed infant had managed to override his ambivalence toward children.

He put Lethe back in her makeshift cradle and tossed an open suitcase on the bed.

He didn't envy Sonja and Fell their task, but part of him wished he could be with
them. After all, he'd been in on the case since the beginning, and it was only natural
for him to want to be there when it ended-no matter what the outcome.

Sonja was right, though. Lethe was their biggest concern. Since she was unable to
protect herself, it was up to him to make sure she didn't fall into Morgan's hands.

The very thought of the bastard turning the child into one of his drones made
Palmer so mad he felt giddy.

There was a knock on his room's door, interrupting his train of thought. Palmer
paused at the threshold connecting his and Sonja's rooms. It couldn't be maid
service, not at one in the morning. There was second knock, this one heavy enough
to rattle the doorjamb.

Palmer pulled his backup gun, a Luger, free of its case on the bed. Checking the
breech, he stepped into the other room, closing the connecting door behind him.

"Who is it?" he barked.

The hinges on the door bulged inward as the doorknob turned sharply left then
right. There was the sound of metal and wood grinding together, and the door flew
open, its lock snapped. It hung from its hinges like a broken bird's wing.

The ogre had to duck his head under the lintel to enter the room. Dressed in a
trench coat over a black turtleneck sweater and corduroy jeans, Keif looked like a
young, upwardly mobile linebacker on the go. He emitted a rank odor of bull-ape
aggression that made Palmer's testes crawl.

"Pangloss say you come now."

"He promised to leave me alone! I-I'm Sonja's renfield now!"

The ogre chuckled, exposing a mouthful of yellow, serrated teeth. "She leave. Gone
play with Morgan. She not corning back. Pangloss say he got dibs."

Palmer pointed the Luger at the ogre. "Back off, Kong! I don't care if the Pope
himself wants an audience! I'm not going anywhere with you!"

Keif growled and advanced. Palmer fired. The bullet struck the thick ridge of the
ogre's brow and slid across his bald pate like a pad of butter on a hot skillet. Except
for a thin red line bisecting his skull, Keif showed no ill effect from being shot in the
head at close to point-blank range.