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I sat down beside Jamilla. Both of us had containers of hot coffee plus the morning edition of the Times-Picayune. There was nothing about the missing girl; apparently the New Orleans police had sat on the disappearance until early that morning. Kyle was angry. He just wasn't himself. He was storming about the front of the room, his right hand nervously combing back his dark hair. I didn't blame him - everything about the investigation depended on FBI cooperation with the local police. The NOPD had broken that trust, broken it badly. Tor once, I sympathize with Mr Craig,' Jamilla said. 'The locals were way out of line.' 'We could have been working on the girl's disappearance for hours,'! agreed.'What a mess, and it's getting worse.' 'Maybe this is our opportunity. I wonder if we could get inside the house during the party tonight. What do you think? I'd love to give it a try,'she whispered.'Everybody who goes to the so-called Fetish Ball will be in costume, right? Somebody needs to get inside that house. We need to do something.' Kyle stared directly at Jamilla and me. He raised his voice.'Can we have one meeting?' 'He means can he have his meeting,' she whispered. I wondered why she had taken such a dislike to Kyle. He was acting strange though; the pressure of the case was getting to him. Something had him on edge. 'Tell him what you think,' I said. 'He'll listen. Especially now that the girl is missing.' 'I doubt it. But what can he do - fire me?' She swiveled around to face Kyle. 'I think we could probably get inside the house tonight during the party. And if we don't, what do we lose? The missing girl might be in there.' Kyle hesitated, but then he said, 'Do it. Let's see what's in the house.'
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Alex Cross 7 - Violets Are Blue
Chapter Seventy-One
It could only happen like this in New Orleans. I spent part of the afternoon securing a couple of printed invitations and then Jamilla and I prepared our costumes for that night. The ball began at midnight, but we'd heard most of the crowd wouldn't start to arrive until closer to two. It had already been a long night for us by the time the festivities started. We waited until just past two to approach the house. Some of the partygoers were college age, a few were even younger, but at least half of the crowd looked to be thirty or older. A few arrived in limousines and other expensive cars. The dress for the night was definitely eye-catching: antique mourning coats and top hats, velvet Victorian gowns, corsets, walking sticks, tiaras. The Goth crowd sheathed their androgynous bodies mostly in black leather and velvet. There were body piercings everywhere; frilly white and black lace on several of the women; belly rings, dog collars, black lipstick, and gobs of mascara on both the men and women. Blood-red eyes stared out from every direction. It was difficult to avoid them. A rock song called 'Pistol Grip Pump' played from hidden speakers outside the house. Fangs were everywhere. And stage blood. A few of the women wore black or purple velvet bands around their necks, presumably to conceal bite marks. It got more interesting and eerie as we went inside the house. People were addressing one another with titled names,'Sir Nicholas', 'Mistress Anne'.'The Baroness','Prince William','Master Ormson', A ---------------- 192 --------------
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statuesque woman walked by and brazenly sized-up Jamilla. She was bronzed with body paint and wore a bronze-colored thong. The iron scent of blood mingled with smoky leather and pungent oil from wall torches. Jamilla looked ready; she was definitely tough. She had on a tight, sleek black dress with leather boots and black stockings. If she'd wanted to look sexy, she'd succeeded. She had purchased black lipstick and leather wristbands at a place called the Little Shop of Fantasy on Dumaine Street. She'd also helped me with my outfit: a mourning coat that scraped the floor, cravat, black trousers, black boots that came to my knees. No one seemed to pay much attention to the two of us. We checked out the main floor, then flowed with the crowd down into the basement. There were flaming torches everywhere on the stone walls. The floors were dirt and stone. It was cold and damp and musty. 'Jesus, Alex,' Jamilla whispered close to my ear. She took my arm, held it tight.'I don't think I would have believed it if I wasn't standing right here.' I felt exactly the same. Several of those congregating downstairs wore canine teeth that were terrifying, especially in such large numbers. Electrified candelabras and the fiery torches were the only sources of light. I saw human skulls nailed into the walls, and I was sure they were real. I started checking to make sure we could get out of here if we had to. I wasn't sure about a quick escape. The crowd was thickening and the feeling was claustrophobic. I wondered if someone was supposed to die here tonight. If so, who would it be? Then I heard a deep voice announce, "The Sire is here. Bow your heads.'
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Alex Cross 7 - Violets Are Blue
Chapter Seventy-Two
The cavernous underground room was quiet and tense. I had the uncomfortable feeling that I was about to see something I wasn't supposed to. Then Daniel Erickson and Charles Defoe made their grand entrance. The magicians epitomized outrageous bohemian royalty. The audience of faithful obediently bowed their heads. Both men were physically impressive. Charles was bare-chested and wore skintight leather pants with boots. He was an erotic-looking man with a powerful build. Daniel had on a tight black frock coat, with black trousers and a black silk cravat. He was well muscled, but slender at the waist. Tugging against a heavy metal leash in front of them was a white Bengal tiger. Jamilla and I exchanged looks. 'This is getting interesting in a hurry,' she whispered. Daniel stopped to talk with several of the young males. I remembered that the earliest murder victims were all men. The tiger was less than ten feet away from me. What did it mean for the vampires? Was it just a symbol - and for what? Charles came and stood next to Daniel against the far wall. He whispered something close to Daniel's ear. They laughed and looked around the room. Daniel finally spoke in a loud, clear voice. I could tell he expected to be listened to. His confidence was charismatic./! am the Sire. What a vibrant and alive gathering this is,' he said. 'I can feel the energy coursing through this room. It excites me.
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"The force harnessed here knows no limits. Believe in it. Believe in yourselves. Tonight is a special night. So come with me to the next room. The next level. Come, if you believe - or even better, if you don't.'
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Alex Cross 7 - Violets Are Blue
Chapter Seventy-Three
I had never seen anything like this. Jamilla and I were quiet and wide-eyed as we entered an even larger chamber in the basement. The room was lit by wall sconces, most of them electric. The brutal fangs gleamed everywhere. The white tiger had begun to growl, and I recalled the bites into human flesh. If you hunt for the vampires. What was happening in this eerie cellar? What was the purpose of tonight's gathering? Who were these ghouls - hundreds of them? Daniel and Charles stood beside two tall, handsome, dark-haired men in satiny black robes with capes. They looked to be in their early twenties, maybe even younger. They looked like young gods. Everyone crowded forward to see what would happen next. T am here to anoint two new vampires princes,'Daniel announced with grave authority. The persona was the same one he used onstage.'Bow before them!' A woman at the front shrieked. 'Our princes! Dark princes! I worship you!' 'Silence!' Charles shouted. 'Take that stupid cow out of here. Banish her.' The lights suddenly blinked once, then went out completely. The few burning torches were doused. I reached for Jamilla, and we slid back toward the nearest wall. I couldn't see anything. I felt a cold spot at the center of my chest. 'What the hell is happening, Alex?' 'I don't know. Let's keep together.'