“Nests are limited in size specifically so no one vamp or group of vamps can set up a major power base. It’s like the difference between a small business and a conglomerate. The more power one vamp wields, the more lawless he can be.”
“So keeping the nests small is a sort of damage control?”
“Exactly. How accurate do you think Jo-Jo’s theory is?”
I shrugged. “It made sense. Maybe you should talk to him before he leaves tonight.”
“Are you taking him to the airport?”
“He’s riding with Vince, but you could go to the motel or call him.”
He lifted a brow. “Do you work tonight?”
“Yep, at eight.”
“Then I’m sticking with you.”
Sunday night seemed even hotter and muggier than it had been during the day, so I wore my lighter emerald Regency gown for work. Kevin Miller was there again, and so were Caro and Leah, carrying part of his equipment. Saber raised a brow at them and whispered, “When did Kevin pick up the groupies?”
“On Friday’s tour. Cute, aren’t they?”
“If they keep him from bugging you, they have my vote.”
Only ten other tourists were there, and they appeared to know each other well. The highlight was Gorman’s absence. Turned out that the ten people who knew each other were fans of the Ghost Hunters television series. They not only asked Kevin what he was doing, they documented their personal experiences and helped ask questions to elicit spirit answers via electronic voice phenomenon—EVP. Kevin just might’ve been a bigger attraction than the ghosts, and he promised to post the night’s findings on his MySpace page.
Saber fell back partway through the tour to make a call. I presumed it was to Jo-Jo, especially when I heard Saber say, “Break a leg.”
Most of the group left at nine forty-five. Kevin, Leah, and Caro stayed, Kevin insisting that I see the video he’d taken on Friday night.
A shiver shot up my spine as Kevin ran the video showing a shadow rise from the ground behind me on the screen. In the same frame, a dog I didn’t remember seeing in the plaza raised its hackles and growled until the owner jerked on its leash.
“You didn’t sense that presence?” Kevin asked me.
“No, but it gives me goose bumps now.”
Saber frowned at Kevin. “Is it harmful?”
“I don’t know. I’ve sent it to one of my professors for her opinion, but she may not be back from vacation yet.” He fast-forwarded to another scene, this one taken on the bay front showing the white mist floating over my head.
“I still think,” Leah said, “that’s a good force of some kind. Maybe not an angel, but good.”
Kevin closed the DVD player and stuffed it in one of the bags he carried. “Ms. Marinelli, I know you tell the tour groups that the ghosts here aren’t malevolent.”
“I say that because it’s true. Fay is as cranky as all get out, and our ghosts might pull pranks, but none of them are outright hostile.”
“But you are a sensitive. Are there places that bother you to go into? Like the old drugstore?”
I shuddered. “The Spanish hospital is difficult.”
“So you see or sense the spirits there, and they bother you, for whatever reason.”
“That’s fair to say. Why?”
“It’s just odd that you have some recognition of the other ghosts in town but don’t feel either of these energies that are strong enough to be showing up on video.”
“Odd? Kevin, I think it’s downright weird and totally creepy that I can’t sense these things, but I can’t explain it.”
“Well, I asked both of those energies questions, and my EMF meter beeped at least one of the times I asked. Maybe I’ll get some EVPs.”
“Better get started on that before the”—Saber paused—“spirits erase anything.
“Oh, right.” Kevin turned abruptly and herded Caro and Leah down St. George Street.
“Nice job getting rid of them,” I said. “Any reason why?”
He nodded at the tour substation, and Pandora emerged from the shadows.
“Trouble?” Saber asked her.
Go home, I heard in my head.
Pandora didn’t say more, but she didn’t have to. Not after she leaped to the cottage roof in full panther size to keep watch. I changed into jeans, a scoop neck T-shirt, and tennis shoes, and then occupied myself by folding laundry, even though my hands shook. We didn’t question why Pandora wanted us at the cottage, but waiting for the unknown was maddening. Saber watched the news, took out the trash and recycling for me, and paced to manage his stress. At one forty Monday morning his cell phone rang. He put it on speaker so I could hear firsthand.
“Saber, Captain Jackson. Where are you?”
“St. Augustine.”
“Get to the vampire club. I’ve got a mess on my hands.”
“Human victims?”
“No. Ike’s dead. Damn near decapitated, and that Laurel bitch is ballistic.”
SIXTEEN