“You took Julian to this place?” Gregori asked the captain.
Beau nodded. “We have gone several times over the years. We never encountered the old man again.”
“Did it feel the same to you? His territory? Was it still evil?”
Beau nodded slowly, a faint frown on his face. “But I knew he wasn’t there. It was evil, but not quite the same. Of course, with Julian, I always felt different. Everything was different.”
“Different?” Savannah echoed. “How?”
Beau shrugged. “He’s hard to explain, but you should know. He is like this one.” He indicated Gregori. “He’s invincible. Man or beast, natural or supernatural, nothing could harm Julian. That’s how he makes you feel.”
Savannah exchanged a small smile of complete understanding with Beau. She knew exactly what he meant. “Do you think the alligator is still after all these years? Surely they die natural deaths.”
“He’s alive all right,” Beau said. “But I don’t think he stays in his pool all the time. I think he has a new hideout. Julian really hunted for him. We spent a lot of time on it, but we never uncovered his other lair.”
“Have there been any recent sightings of him?” Gregori asked. “Even a rumor, a drunk talking big? Or strange disappearances?”
Beau shrugged, the easy bayou casualness of accepting everyday life. “There are always disappearances in the swamps, unexplained odors, and weird occurrences. No one thinks it unusual. No one believes in the old man anymore. He has become a legend, a scary tale to frighten the tourists. That’s all.”
“But you know better,” Gregori said softly.
Beau sighed. “Yes, I know better. He’s out there somewhere in these miles of swamp, and he’s hungry. All the time hungry. Not for food, but to kill. That’s his hunger, that’s what he lives for, just to kill.”
The boat was carefully maneuvered into its berth. Gregori thanked La Rue and tried to pay him. When the guide refused, Gregori momentarily blurred his memory of time and placed a quantity of money in the captain’s wallet. He had been in the man’s mind, knew his financial problems, knew he was worried for his wife’s health.
Savannah curled her fingers into Gregori’s back pocket as they wandered up the road and back toward civilization. La Rue called to them. “Where’s your car? These roads aren’t always safe after dark.”
Gregori glanced over his shoulder, his pale eyes glittering ominously, picking up a hint of a blood-red moon. His eyes resembled those of a wolf hunting prey. “Do not worry. We will be safe.”
Beau La Rue laughed happily. “I wasn’t worried about you. I was worried that any who attempted to mug you might be friends of mine. Don’t hurt them too badly, eh? Perhaps just give them a little lesson in manners.”
“I promise,” Gregori assured him. He slipped an arm around Savannah. “Interesting tale about that alligator.”
“The vampire is using it to guard him when he’s in the swamp?” Savannah ventured.
“Perhaps,” Gregori mused. He inhaled sharply, a predator scenting prey. Hunger was gnawing, a sharp edge that persisted, always present, particularly predominant when he had used so much energy. The men grouped together near a large tree up the road were drinking beer and watching their approach. He could feel their eyes on Savannah, could smell their sudden interest.
Savannah dropped a step behind him so that his much larger frame hid her from prying eyes. “So why else would the vampire use the alligator? Why would he safeguard his liar that way?”
“Think what you just said. His lair. The vampire uses the swamp as his lair. If that alligator has been around so long, there is only one explanation. The vampire must shape-shift, must become the alligator. He simply disappears into the swamp and grows fat terrorizing the population while he waits for the hunter to go away.”
“But if Julian has lived here for many years—” she started to protest.
He shook his head. “Time means nothing to the undead. And there are swamps beyond this place, other cities to terrorize. He simply goes from one area to another, amusing himself until it is safe for him to return.”