HORROR THRILLERS-A Box Set of Horror Novels (58 page)

BOOK: HORROR THRILLERS-A Box Set of Horror Novels
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16

Ross lived in a
modern ranch-style home at the edge of Dallas. He had bought twenty
acres so that he would have no close neighbors. He had hired the best
of the city's architects and given him enough money to build a
castle, but what he created was an oddly shaped monstrosity sitting
out on the edge of nowhere, it seemed to Mentor.

The bus lines did
not extend to Ross' property, so Mentor left the bus and walked two
miles in the night to reach the place. Sometimes he walked like this,
rather than travel supernaturally. The night was tropical and balmy,
the sky overhead so clear that once he was out of the city's interior
he could see the stars. He was happy he'd decided on the walk where
he could spend a little time tuning himself to nature's rhythm.

Just as he had
enjoyed the hour-long bus ride across the city, now he reveled in the
cooling night air. The houses and lights dwindled until darkness
settled over the long vista. Mentor took solace from the sounds of
night birds, the slither of snakes through the green grass that grew
along the highway, and the sparkling clarity of the air he breathed.

He knew Ross was at
home, could sense him there, even at this distance. Once he reached
the house, he marveled, shaking his head at the overwrought
construction. A peaked roof soared two stories tall, and from the
entrance portico two wings spread out on each side. With a little
squint of the eyes, the house looked like a giant predatory bird
squatting in the low grass, its wings extended. In the rear was an
Olympic-sized swimming pool, a full tennis court, and a long sleek
building that Mentor knew was Ross' own indoor handball court. Ross
was nothing if not extravagant. But it was all for show. Ross did not
need to exercise. He swam in the pool sometimes, Mentor knew, but he
rarely used the other facilities.

Mentor shook his
head in consternation. He always felt that way when he visited Ross'
home. While the Naturals worked like slaves in the human world in
order to buy blood from the Predators, Ross lived like a king off the
profits. He had no compunction about the inequity involved. He had
chosen to be a Predator and excess was in his nature. Still, it
saddened Mentor to see one of his kind so obsessed by possessions
that he would take so much without giving back any more than the bare
sustenance the Naturals and Cravens required to stay alive.

Cravens lived on
welfare and their wits, handing over what money they could scrounge
to Ross' people. And here Ross was, living like a king.

He would only stay
a few minutes. He did not feel comfortable beneath the two-story
ceilings that ended in an overhead vault of glass. The collected
artwork on the walls was disturbing to Mentor, since it probably
belonged in a museum instead of a private collection. He'd never
inquired, but he suspected some of the paintings were original
masters, procured illegally. The imported rugs and the modern,
garishly colored, stilted furniture that Ross preferred only deepened
Mentor's feeling that everything was on display to make visitors feel
insignificant.

Also, he had
checked on Dell during his bus ride and found that her parents and
little brother were frantic with anxiety. Dell had sneaked out of the
house after dark, and they did not know where she had gone. They had
tried to contact her telepathically, but she apparently had blocked
out her family. They had been sending messages to Mentor for more
than an hour, asking if he would find her. They knew Mentor, with his
greater powers, could get the job done.

Mentor, hearing
Dell's family calling for him, went on a mental search and, after
little difficulty, found her outside of the city. She was with the
horse her parents had bought as a gift. He must go to her and explain
things. Though he understood her need for solitude and the
companionship of the new pet, she should not worry her family. He was
also concerned about how wild and free she was acting as she rode
alone through dark woods. She was giving in to the dangerous part of
her vampiric nature.

Once a Natural took
to the wild, it was only a matter of time before giving in to the
blood call. Even a Natural might take to random kills if she did not
stay close to the human community and continue living as she always
had. If Dell ever gave in and listened to the call her soul made for
abandoning the real world, she would be a renegade and lost to her
family forever.

Ross met him at the
entrance, swinging wide the twelve-foot-tall, ornately carved door to
let him inside. "Did you take care of the woman asking questions
about Strand-Catel?" he asked without preamble.

"Yes,"
Mentor said. "She won't be a bother to you again."

"Good! I was
about to take a swim. Care to join me? I have extra trunks."

Mentor was inside
before he saw two women sitting side by side on Ross' sofa. He knew
from their scent they weren't vampire. Had he not had his mind on
Dell, he would have known they were there before Ross admitted him.

The women wore
bikini swimsuits and seemed to be in a stupor, their eyes glassy and
out of focus, barely registering his presence.

"What are they
doing here?"

"Oh, them,"
Ross said, flicking long delicate fingers in the women's direction.
"My dinner companions, that's all." He grinned and Mentor
shuddered.

Ross would play
with them as if they were puppets and when he tired of their company,
he would take them one by one, having his way with their bodies
before draining them dry.

"I don't know
how you live with yourself," Mentor said, moving again for the
door. "I'm leaving now."

"Well, hell,
if you weren't going to stay, why didn't you just call?"

"I wanted to
walk. I didn't know you wouldn't be alone."

Ross stepped to the
door and held it as Mentor exited. "Your sensibilities bore me,
Mentor."

"And the lack
of yours bores me." Mentor did not turn back as he left the
house.

A low growl came
from Ross suddenly and Mentor turned back to him. "What is it?"

"Did you bring
someone with you?"

"I certainly
did not."

Ross swung his head
from one side to the other, peering out from beneath a frown. He
looked like a buzzard, checking for prey. "Are you sure no one
came with you?"

Mentor now looked
about too, scanning the property. He sensed a human, but he did not
want Ross to know it. He did not want more bloodshed. The two women
inside were already doomed. Why give Ross another?

The human was male,
a lurker, near the windows. Let Ross take care of that, if it came to
it. If he saw something he shouldn't, Ross would know that as well.
For right now, Mentor would not divulge the human's whereabouts.
"There's no one," he said, lying easily, waving away the
idea with a gesture of his hand. "Go back inside."

"Are you sure
you won't have a taste of my lovelies before you go? When was the
last time you had a warm meal?"

Mentor heard his
laugh, and it followed him down the driveway to the highway. If he
had his way, all Predators would be wiped from the face of the Earth.
They not only preyed on mankind, but they were truly heartless
creatures. They were too fully engaged in the world, taking from it
all earthly delights and then discarding their dead as if they were
refuse for a landfill. They controlled the Naturals by being their
only supply of blood, and if given the chance, they would murder
every Craven who came near them.

Mentor wondered why
God in heaven had ever allowed them to exist, but he wondered, too,
why any of them existed and why God had no answer for him. Just as
there were criminals and humans without souls walking among the
normal population, there were the unholy and despised living
alongside the Naturals. There was no good reason for it; it simply
was how things were arranged. Mentor felt he would never really
understand it all until the day he no longer lived on the planet.
Whenever that would be. . . .

Sometimes he
worried. He tried to be religious. He tried to believe in a Supreme
Being. He hoped God was there, looking down, taking notes on his
conduct. He had done evil things, but he'd shown regret and tried to
mend his ways. He worried, still. For if there was a God, there might
be a Devil, there might be hell.

Waiting for him.

He shrugged off the
thoughts, relentless as they were, and turned his attention to the
human hiding near Ross' house. He tried to send him a warning, but
seemed to be blocked from telepathically reaching the man. The
stranger's fear crowded his mind, keeping it locked solidly against
outside interference.

So be it. The
curious always got what they deserved. The man never should have gone
near a vampire's house.

Now he must go to
Dell, thirty miles away, and speak to her about the rebelliousness
that had overcome her since she had been given the horse. It was not
the horse, per se, that had triggered it. She probably would have
acted this way no matter what. Many of the young ones made mistakes,
unsure of themselves and their powers, confused by their new lives
and the changes that were taking place.

He spent half his
time trying to teach them control. He could not have them turning out
like Ross. There were quite enough unruly, unfeeling vampires in
Dallas already.

He was not too far
from Ross' house when he gathered himself together and changed so
quickly it was like a lamp turned off in a room. One moment he was
walking along the side of the road and the next he had vanished. What
he had really done was take to the skies with such speed his movement
would have blown away a supersonic fighter jet.

~*~

Alan thought he
might have made a pretty terrific private investigator. He tailed the
bus easily enough, watching for the old man to leave when the doors
opened, but once his target was on foot, that was another problem
altogether. He parked on a deserted street where small businesses
were closed for the night, entrances barred by heavy black iron
grilles and metal curtains that rolled down to cover wide windows.
Here, roving dogs nested behind trash bins, and people scurried home
to be safe from the night. Alan turned off the headlights to sit in
the darkened car. His heart beat fast. He felt both scared and
elated. He was in a frightening part of town, but he was excited by
the hunt.

He watched the old
man move deeper and deeper into the lonely darkness that spread out
from the edge of the city into fields and pastures and farmlands.
Where could he be headed and why?

Alan had to know.
He had come this far, following the bus on its circuitous routes
through city streets, and now he had to make another decision. Did he
leave his car and walk, too, keeping his distance so the other man
did not know he was being followed? Or did he give it up as a bad job
and drive back to Bette's house?

He looked at his
wrist watch. It was almost eight p.m. He had told her he would be
back by nine. He had an hour. He might as well finish what he had
begun. Besides, he hadn't walked anywhere like this in ages. Except
for health-conscious joggers, did anyone walk anywhere anymore, he
wondered? Now he wished he'd been more athletic.

He eased out of the
car, shutting the door quietly and locking it. One could not leave a
thirty-thousand dollar car unlocked in a deserted place like this. It
was a poor business district and not much business at that. A few
storefronts, some of them with painted signs in the windows
announcing they had moved elsewhere. The only working streetlights
stood just over where he was parked at the broken concrete curb.

He set off into the
dark, wondering why he felt so compelled to act in this manner, and
yet unable to stop himself. It was the excitement, he realized. It
made him feel so alive.

He could barely see
the figure of the old man ahead of him, and that was good. If the man
turned, he would have a difficult time detecting that he was being
followed. Alan was ready to move off the highway and hide in bushes
along the way if he had to.

Only two vehicles
had passed them so far, a brown Toyota with a dinged front fender and
a pickup truck that spewed black smoke out its tailpipe. Alan gave
them a wide berth, afraid he would be seen in their lights as they
passed.

After a mile of
walking, he was sure the old man was absolutely crazy. There were no
houses, no lights, nothing but a few cattle barns and rows of barbed
wire fences. Hadn't there been something in the news about some
cattle mutilations going on for a while out here? he wondered. Was
this the highway where they'd found the cattle lying dead, no
footprints or tire tracks around them, and they had been cut, their
genitals taken, half their jaws, parts of their stomachs? What was
that all about?

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