In the Blood by Nancy A. Collins Read Free Book Online Page A

cigarette and wavin' at ya, like he was tryin' t'getcher attention."
    "It must have been a case of mistaken identity. I don't know anybody in town.
    The shopkeeper grunted and returned to thumbing through his porno magazine.
    "Tourists is tourists."
    Palmer stared out into the street. He hadn't lied. He didn't know anybody in New Orleans. So why did he feel as if someone had just walked over his grave?

    The Devil's Playground was a block off the historic French Market, and the odor of discarded produce was strong on the night wind, mixing with the ever-present reek of beer and urine that seemed to hang over the district during Carnival.
    Painted flames covered the bar's windows. A fiberglass statue of a grinning Mephistopheles, resplendent in his skintight red jumpsuit and neat goatee, stood next to the door. The grinning devil held aloft a pitchfork in his right hand, his left fist firmly planted on one hip. The Prince of Lies' jaunty demeanor was far more reminiscent of Errol Flynn as Robin Hood than Goethe's demon.
    Palmer pushed his way inside, ignoring the looks from a couple of young men sheathed in black leather and chrome chains lounging near the door. The place was packed, the buzz of a hundred voices lost under the crash and thunder of amplified rock music. He scanned the cramped quarters for a sign of his quarry. He made a try for the bar, brushing against a tall, heavyset woman.
    The woman turned, smiling good-naturedly if drunkenly. Her face was heavily made up, chunky costume jewelry dripping from her fingers and ears.
    "Hey there, handsome. You look lonesome." Her voice was husky, her breath redolent of whiskey. She reached up with one beringed hand and patted her hair.
    "Oh, I'm looking for someone, actually."
    The woman's smile grew wider. "Aren't we all, sugar?" She leaned closer and Palmer glimpsed a hint of five o'clock shadow under the makeup. She placed a

    Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) large, knobby-knuckled hand on his sleeve. "Maybe I can help you find what you're looking for."
    Palmer shrugged. "You might. I'm supposed to be meeting someone here. A woman."
    The transvestite removed her hand from his arm. "I see." Interest drained from her voice as she returned her gaze to the mirror behind the bar, readjusting her wig.
    "Maybe you know her. She lives somewhere around here. Her name's Sonja Blue."
    The transvestite jerked her head in his direction so hard she unseated her wig.
    Palmer glimpsed thinning hair the color of wheat straw.
    "The Blue Woman? You're meeting the Blue Woman? Here?!" All pretense of imitating a woman's voice ended. The transvestite stared at Palmer as if he'd just announced he had an armed nuclear device strapped to his back.
    Palmer was suddenly aware that everyone else in the bar was staring at him. The music continued to thump and growl like a caged animal, but no one spoke. Palmer felt his armpits dampen.
    "Get out! Get out of here! We've got enough trouble as it is without you bringing
    her here!" The bartender, a muscular fellow naked except for a leather jockstrap, a ram's horn headdress and a tattoo of a dragon rampant on his chest, gestured angrily at the door.
    "But-"
    A dozen pairs of hands grabbed him, lifting him bodily over their heads. Palmer recalled how he used to stage dive at the hard-core concerts, leaping onto the stage for a brief moment of stolen glamour before jumping back into the seething dance floor. He didn't try to fight them and allowed himself to be roughly passed over the heads of the bar's patrons and dumped, unceremoniously, back onto the street. He straightened his rumpled clothes as best he could, glancing back at the doorway.
    The two young men dressed in leather and chrome blocked the entrance.
    "Fuck this shit." Palmer was in no position to take on two guys ten years his junior.
    Not if he wanted to keep what was left of his teeth. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked