“That one. That’s it,” he said. “Has to be.”
“I’ll call you back when we verify,” she said to Gamble and clicked off. “You sure?”
“That was the name of his church back in 1934. He was a minister back then, too. Easy access to victims.”
“God, that’s sick.”
He shrugged. “Practical if you are looking for easy prey.”
Prey. One little word, and Jackie was reminded that Nick was not quite what he appeared, a dying man in need of blood to stay alive. “Did you ever get used to…”
“No, Jackie. I hate it. It’s a very difficult thing to live with,” he said plainly.
“Shelby says… said it’s very addictive.”
“It is, but for all the power it gives, it makes you weak.”
“Ah. I think I see.” Jackie had not really thought of it like that. Of course, when did she ever think about such things? But Nick was right. You had to take the life from people in order to get the strength, and no matter how you sliced that pie, it was bad. “Can we kill him?”
“Sure,” Nick said, nodding once. “Drake’s powerful, but not invincible. He can bleed like everyone else, but the power can heal with amazing speed, as Shelby showed you.”
Jackie could not argue with that, but she was not sure she would do it again knowing how it affected a person.
“If you see him, you don’t think or ask questions. You just shoot. Got it?”
Jackie snorted. “That’s about as ass-backward an order as you can give, Sheriff, but I got no problem with that, unless he’s holding that little girl.”
“Fair enough, but shoot him a lot. There is no such thing as overkill with this guy. A nice shot to the temple will likely just have him spitting the bullet back at you.”
“Christ, Nick. Seriously?”
“I’m not joking. With real blood, the control over the body is phenomenal. If we get him, you empty that gun of yours into him, and you shoot for damage, not to kill. Blow his goddamn head apart if you can, take a leg off. Concentrate your shots and put the biggest fucking hole in him you can. Feel free to take out any and all anger.”
They were cruising by downtown, the first vestiges of light encroaching on the charcoal sky. The skyline was an eerie sight, a dark and ragged maw of teeth filled with leery, weeping eyes. Soulless concrete, glass, and steel. Some found it full of life, exciting, vigorous, a life unto itself, but Jackie could never quite get that feeling from the city. Why do I even live here? At the moment, it felt filled with an inexplicable taint. Death, it seemed, was everywhere, and they were now going after its master.
“Jackie? You okay?”
“I just have a bad feeling about this, is all.”
“I’d be worried if you weren’t scared,” he replied.
“Did I say I was scared?”
“You didn’t have to,” Nick said. “I could see it in the way you were looking out the window just then.”
“Well, pay more attention to the road then, damnit.” He was exasperating. It was almost like having… Laurel in the car. “Sorry. You’re right. I’m a bit worried about this, and I’m still not used to doing anything without Laur around. It’s just… strange.”
“I know. Nothing will be the same around here without Shelby either. She kept me on my toes. I will truly miss her.”
“Let’s deal with Drake first. This is dragging me down.”
“Agreed. Sorry.”
The Durango smoked its tires suddenly as Nick took them through a red light and pulled a hard right against the oncoming traffic. The sound of crunching metal and exploding glass could be heard behind them, but Jackie was too busy bracing herself in the seat. “What the hell?”
Nick wove in and out of the early morning traffic, thankfully light. Doing eighty in a thirty-five could get you in trouble. His hands were clenched on the steering wheel as he focused on the road ahead, mouth set in a grim and furious line. “He’s feeding.”
“On the little girl? Now?” Jackie had the image of a young girl with strawberry-blond hair zip-tied to a stainless-steel table under the intensity of a fluorescent light, a bright tube of red flowing out of her arm, an innocent life draining away into another. “Shit, Nick. Drive faster.”
The First Hope Church of Christ had lights on when they pulled into the parking lot. The clock on the Durango read 5:47 AM. Nick had a sinking feeling that the “sister” mentioned in the earlier phone call might likely be inside. A sign hanging over the main double doors read FIRST HOPE DAY CARE. A SAFE AND LOVING ENVIRONMENT FOR YOUR CHILD. SIGN UP NOW! Around the corner of the parking lot loomed a dark, converted Victorian home. The placard hanging between two posts in the small yard had the words TANENBAUM’S FUNERAL HOME in elegant, gold script.
The sense of Drake permeated the air so heavily Nick could not decide where exactly it was coming from.
“Should we really be parking right out front?” Jackie said, leaning forward and staring out the front window at the church and then over at the funeral home.
The edge of fear in her voice had faded. It was resolute, determined now in spite of the fear he knew lay beneath. It was a good sign. He could count on her. “Doesn’t matter. He knows we’re here.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Where would you go if you wanted to drain a body of blood?” he asked her, getting out of the Durango and walking toward the funeral home.
Jackie caught up to him a moment later, Glock held firmly in one hand. “Funeral home would be my bet, too. Maybe we should split-”
“No,” he said, insistent. “We stay together, or you stay in the car. No choice this time, Jackie.
“What, you going to cuff me to the steering wheel?”
“If that’s what it takes. You can’t face this guy alone, Jackie. No.”
She was passed arguing the point. “Okay, we stay together. You better be right.”
Nick hoped so as well. He drew a six-shooter from its holster and held it loosely but ready at his side as they approached the house. The inside was black as pitch and was beginning to feel about as thick with the sense of the dead. He could sense ghosts in the area. It had to be the place. “I really wish you would stay back at the car,” he told her.
“There’s a girl dying in there, Nick. Let’s go.” At the foot of the front steps she paused. “Maybe we should go around back?”
Nick shook his head. He knew they were running dangerously low on time. They could only be so careful now if the girl was going to be saved. “Last chance, Jackie. Please go back and wait.”
She jabbed a finger at his ribs. “Do you want to get this guy or not?” Jackie reached for the handle and jiggled the door. “Shit, locked.”
The door was a framed stained-glass window depicting some religious symbolism Nick paid little attention to as he flicked the barrel of his revolver through, sending shards of glass tumbling inward to the floor. He reached in and opened the door. “No, it’s not.”
Jackie leaned up against the door frame, gun held up between both hands, ready to go in. Nick swung the door in and stepped inside, scanning the entry along the barrel of his gun. Jackie turned and bolted over to the archway leading into the living room on the right side of the house. Once inside, it was not as dark as it had appeared. The growing light outside provided enough to see inside, and the front of the home was empty. She peered in and then stepped into the former living room, which now appeared to be an elegant seating room filled with Victorian furnishings. Stairs in front of them went up to the second floor, while the doorway to the left opened into what looked to be the front office. Above, a delicate chandelier of gold and glass hung high up over their heads.
The smell was unsettlingly sterile.
Jackie motioned at him and pointed up the stairs and then toward the floor. Where would they have the embalming equipment? Basement was the logical choice. Nick pointed at the floor, and Jackie nodded agreement, walking across the entry toward him. From above, Nick heard a soft creak and groan, as though perhaps someone were walking directly overhead. The sound was followed by the short, sharp sound of a fizzle.