#01 Keeper of the King (Richard d'Orleans) by P. N. Elrod

Author:P. N. Elrod [Elrod, P. N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 1997-05-05T07:00:00+00:00

Richard reached his Land Rover just as the first of the emergency vehicles arrived on the scene: police, ambulances, even a SWAT team; they were gathering like flies to a corpse. God, if they only knew.

They'll find him soon enough.

Within the hour they'd be all over that building.

Another horrific murder like the one in Niagara and himself, Richard, close on the scene again. Demarest would have a perfect seizure; he'd—

But Richard could not complete the thought as the vision of what he'd just seen crashed upon his mind's eye again, scattering all other worries to the sky. He knew exactly what had made the mess in 118, the mess that was all that remained of Sean the boxer. He recognized the tearing and the wanton spilling of blood and bile.

Another vampire.

A vampire at just about the same stage of degeneration as himself.

His hands were leaden as he fumbled to unlock the door and hoist his suddenly chilled body inside the cab of the truck. The familiar smell of leather and plastic weren't enough to dispel what now permeated his clothes, clung to his skin. He'd taken great care not to touch anything, but the stench of the warehouse was very much with him. He glanced apprehensively at his shoes. They were clean—at least of visible crimson evidence—but he knew he'd throw everything away at the first opportunity. As before with Arlie Webb, he felt an overwhelming urge to wash it all off. He'd see to it as soon as he was in the sweet sanctuary of his home.

He started the engine, gunning it to angry life, a reflection of his inner tension, then protective instinct cut in and he eased off to let the truck merely idle. There were quite enough police around, no need to attract their attention.

He didn't half jump out of his skin when Sharon suddenly appeared at the driver's door and pounded on the window.

"Here! I thought you were wantin' to talk with me!" she shouted through the darkened glass.

He stared, having utterly forgotten her.

"Well, come on, then! Your place or mine?"

It occurred to him that for her own good he should just drive away. Safer for her, and he'd have time to himself to think this one through. She pounded again, impatiently, her face projecting annoyance, but her eyes showing fear as she threw a nervous glance over her shoulder at the growing commotion down the street.

He undid the lock for the passenger side and motioned for her to come around. She did so with alacrity, hauling herself inside even as he shifted into first. The door slammed shut from their abrupt charge forward, and she was thrust hard into the seat. She squawked once, clutching her shoulder bag to keep it from flying, then scrabbled for the seat belt.

In silence Richard flung the vehicle around corners and through stop signs, heading for the expressway. Sharon stared at him with a mix of undisguised alarm and amusement. He ignored her and simply drove hard, as if the hounds of hell were on his tail, and dear Lord, it felt to him that they were.

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