Dracula's Desires by Linda Mercury Page A

giggled wildly as they crumbled.
    Protecting himself from the deadly spray, Anthony huddled under the awning of an outdoor café. He’d insisted on a regular café, one that did not serve the extra goodies. Even with vampire healing, he ached from what he’d ingested from Glenath. A pint of blood and beer in his stomach went a long way toward regaining his well-being.
    Glenath had outdone herself with her idea to bless the entire ring of the outer canal of the Red Light district. All the refugees needed to do was hop in and they’d be dead.
    And boy, they were hopping like bunnies. This was the weirdest mass suicide he’d ever seen.
    â€œâ€˜Three meters mud, three meters water, and three meters bicycles,’” Glenath quoted the tour guide’s statistics about the composition of the Amsterdam channels. She took a hit off her hookah pipe, the apple tobacco clean and refreshing to Anthony after the psychedelic trip. “And now this one is three meters of ash, as well,” she said.
    Anthony scratched his exposed neck. Just being around this much holy water made him itch. “Where did this come from, babe?” he asked. “Why all these Fallen? And how are they so easy to kill now?” He raised his hand for a second mug of beer.
    â€œI don’t know. If they had escaped through the ‘exit,’ they would be reborn on the Wheel.”
    One of the Fallen who bore a striking resemblance to a potted plant delayed its jump. “It’s the baby,” it said. “She’s changing all the rules.” It ran on little stubby roots, leaped into the air, and called, “Geronimo!”
    â€œValerie’s going to have a daughter.” Glenath exhaled, the smoke ringing around her head like a dragon.
    Love, warm and simple, made him lean forward and kiss her smoky, sweet lips with all the trust in his heart.
    Dazed and trembling, she opened her starlike eyes. “Not a complaint, but what’s that about?”
    â€œJust remembering the day we met,” he murmured as he nuzzled her soft neck. “It was a dream come true.”
    His wife smiled and rubbed the scars on her chest. “Only a vampire would see that day as romantic.”
    Another wave hit the brick and concrete street, slicking the bicycle lanes with sludgy ash. The riders cursed as their work clothes were slimed. Others shouted as they fell, tangling limbs and wheels in dangerous configurations.
    â€œNo!” Glenath dropped her hookah mouthpiece and dashed to help the victims. Anthony was already there, lifting, straightening, checking for injuries.
    â€œBishop Tempesta? Mr. O’Neill?” The beautiful Dutch accent did not hide the disappointment in the voice.
    Anthony and Glenath turned around, their coats and pants completely ruined from their rescue efforts, only to meet the exasperated gazes of two mounted Amsterdam police. The horses snorted as though agreeing with their riders.
    â€œWe in Amsterdam have been honored with your visit, but please come with us,” the taller female officer stated. “You’ve caused quite enough trouble.”
    As the two lovers were led to separate police cars, Anthony called to Glenath, “Not as much fun as the day we met.”
    â€œI nearly died, you maniac,” she laughed as they were whisked away to the nearest police station.

C HAPTER 18
    â€œ H ow else do you think a vampire could conceive?” Valerie answered. “Only you could have done this.”
    â€œYou mean it’s mine?” Eyes wide, he stepped away as if she were filled to the brim with poisonous mercury, as if acknowledging his paternity would despoil his unearthly purity.
    Fabulous. Her lover reacted as though she carried toxic waste. So much for the sensual, accepting man who had opened her heart to love.
    Screw him. She would find John by herself. Valerie had no clue how, but she would do it without an insulting angel hanging