Blood Price - By Tanya Huff Page 0,27

here, mixed a third part with earth and blood, and it brushed away the centuries.

It was London, 1593. Elizabeth was on the throne and had been for some time. He'd been dead for fifty-seven years. He'd been walking back from the theater, having just seen the premiere presentation of Richard the Third. On the whole, he'd enjoyed himself although he had a feeling the playwright had taken a few liberties with the personality of the king.

Out of a refuse-strewn alleyway, a young man had stumbled-thin and disheveled but darkly handsome, very drunk, and, clinging about him like his own personal bit of fog, had been that same smell.

Henry had already fed from a whore behind the theater, but even if he hadn't, he would not have fed from this man. The scent alone was enough to make him wary, the not quite sane glitter in the dark eyes had only added further warning.

"Most humbly, I beg your pardon." His voice, the voice of an educated man, had been slurred almost beyond understanding. "But I have been in Hell this night and am having some small difficulty in returning." He'd giggled then, and executed a shaky bow in Henry's direction. "Christopher Marlowe at your service, milord. Can you spare a few coppers for a drink?"

"Christopher Marlowe," Henry repeated softly into a night more than four hundred years after that unhappy man had died. He rolled onto his back and gazed up at the clouds closing ranks over the stars. Although he had read the play just after its posthumous publication in 1604, he wondered tonight for the first time just how much research Marlowe had done before writing The Tragical History of Dr. Faustus.

"Vicki, it's Rajeet. Sorry to call so late-uh, it's 11:15, Monday night, I guess you've gone to bed-but I figured you'd want to know the results of the tests. You have positive matches with both Ian Reddick and Terri Neal. I don't know what you've found, but I hope it helps."
Chapter Five
"... although the police department refuses to issue a statement at this time, the Coroner's Office has confirmed that Mark Thompson, the fifth victim, has also been drained of blood. A resident, who wishes to remain nameless, living in the area of Don Mills Road and St. Dennis Drive, swears he saw a giant bat fly past his balcony just moments before the body was found. Jesus H. Christ." Vicki punched the paper down into a tightly wadded mass and flung it at the far wall. "Giant bats! No surprise he wants to remain nameless. Shit!"

The sudden shrill demand of the phone lifted her about four inches out of her chair. Scowling, she turned on it but at the last instant remembered that the call might be business and modified her response accordingly. A snarled, "What!" seldom impressed potential clients.

"Private investigations, Nelson speaking."

"Have you seen this morning's paper?!"

The voice was young, female, and not instantly identifiable. "Who is this, please?"

"It's me. Coreen Fergus. Have you seen this morning's paper?"

"Yes, Coreen, I have, but... "

"Well, that proves it then, doesn't it."

"Proves what?" Tucking the phone under her chin, Vicki reached for her coffee. She had a feeling she was going to need it.

"About the vampire. There's a witness. Someone saw it!" Coreen's voice had picked up a triumphant tone.

Vicki took a deep breath. "A giant bat could be anything, Coreen. A blowing garbage bag, the shadow of an airplane, laundry falling off another balcony."

"And it could also be a giant bat. You are going to talk to this person, aren't you?"

It wasn't really a question and although Vicki had been deliberately not thinking about trying to find an unnamed source in the rabbit warren of apartments and town-houses around St. Dennis Drive, talking to "this person" was the next logical step. She reassured Coreen, promised to call the moment she had any results, and hung up.

"Like looking for a needle in a haystack." But it had to be done; a witness could break the case wide open.

She finished her coffee and checked her watch. There was one thing she wanted to check before she hit the pavement. 8:43. Cutting it close, but Brandon should still be at his desk.

He was.

After greetings were exchanged-perfunctory on one side at least-Vicki slid in the reason for her call. "... and you and I both know you've found things that you haven't told the papers."

"That's very true, Victoria." The coroner didn't even pretend not to understand. "But, as you know very well,