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

off around the corner.
    He paused halfway down the block, lighting a cigarette with trembling hands.
    "Palmer?"
    He spun around so fast he burned himself with his lighter.
    She was dressed in a pair of faded, much-worn blue jeans, a Cramps 1990 Tour T-shirt, a ragged leather jacket a size too big for her, scuffed engineer boots and sunglasses. Even though he could not see her eyes, Palmer was aware of being watched.
    "Sonja?"
    "You are Pangloss's agent?"
    He shrugged. "You could say that."
    "Were you followed?"
    "No.
    Her lips twisted into something like a smile. "You seem sure of yourself."
    "I'm good at what I do."
    "No doubt. You spoke of a letter from my... grandfather."

    Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) Palmer reached into his jacket and withdrew the letter. "Funny, the Doc doesn't look old enough to have a granddaughter your age."
    "He's very well preserved. It's a family trait. I'll take that letter now, if you don't mind." She extended a pale, narrow hand toward him.
    Palmer handed over the sealed envelope, his fingers accidentally brushing against hers.
    There was a sound like a flashcube going off in the back of his skull. His fingertips tingled. He saw Sonja Blue jerk her head as if she'd received a sudden electrical shock. The street disappeared and Palmer found himself in a strange room.
    He saw a pool table surrounded by splintered pool cues, scattered cue balls... and
    broken boys. The smell of blood and fear was strong. The fear smell's primal intensity
    was erotic, the greatest aphrodisiac he'd ever known, and most of it radiated from the
    frightened boy clutched in his hands. The youth's hair was the color of a Maxfield
    Parrish sky, his face that of an errant choirboy. There were brief, blurred glimpses of
    rape, robbery, looting, each involving the same baby-faced miscreant - An orgasm
    shuddered through Palmer's nervous system as a hot gush of thick, salty blood filled
    his mouth.
    Sonja Blue jerked her hand away from his, growling like a mountain lion. She turned and ran, disappearing into the darkness before Palmer had a chance to reorient himself. He felt dizzy, as if he'd just stepped off the Tilt-A-Whirl at the State Fair. He could still taste the boy's blood. The thought made him moan, and bile burned the back of his throat. He didn't want to think about it. Not now, not ever. He especially didn't want to think about how he'd recognized the blue-haired boy's face as belonging to Jimmy Eichorn.
    All he wanted to do was get back to the apartment, phone Pangloss and tell him he'd fulfilled his part of the bargain. He'd collect his bonus and go somewhere nice and sunny. Mexico sounded good. He'd retire to Mexico and sell stuffed frogs playing mariachi instruments to the turistas. That sounded real good.
    He started back toward Pangloss's house. It was almost midnight, and Bourbon Street was jammed with partygoers determined to wring the few remaining minutes of pleasure out of Carnival. The noise and excitement was almost enough to make him forget what had just happened.
    At first he thought the tugging on his sleeve was the wind. Then it spoke his name.
    Palmer turned and stared into the pale, smiling face of a man in his late twenties, dressed in an expensive, loose-fitting suit. The stranger lifted a smoldering French cigarette to his thin lips, his eyes strangely sunken in the fluorescent and neon glare from a nearby live sex show sign.
    There was something familiar about his arrogant, smirking features-then Palmer recognized him.
    He took an involuntary step backward, his scalp tightening as his heart began to race. The street noise faded into an indistinct rumble, as if he were underwater. He prayed he wasn't having a stroke, though that would at least explain the things happening to him.
    "You're dead]" It sounded like an accusation.
    Geoffrey Chastain, known to friends and enemies as Chaz, shrugged. "Is that a

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