Read Online Dead Roses for a Blue Lady by Nancy Collins - Free Book Online
Authors: Nancy Collins
Ads: Link
her between the shoulderblades, lifting her off her feet and knocking her into a row of garbage cans.
She barely had time to roll out of the way before something big and silvery smashed down where her head had been a second before. She coughed and black blood flew from her lips; a rib had broken off and pierced her lung again.
Kitty stood over her, clutching a three-foot long solid silver crucifix like a baseball bat.
While her madness gave her strength, it was obvious the damn thing was heavy. Sonja wondered which church she'd stolen it from.
The dead channel-crackling in Sonja's head grew louder. It was the sound of homicidal rage. Shrieking incoherently, Kitty swung at her rival a third time. While crosses and crucifixes had no effect on her— or any vampire, for that matter—if Kitty succeeded in landing a lucky blow and snapped her spine or cracked open her skull, she was dead no matter what.
Sonja rolled clear and got to her feet in one swift, fluid motion. Kitty swung at her again, but this time Sonja stepped inside her reach and grabbed the crucifix, wresting it from the other woman's hands.
Kitty staggered back, staring in disbelief as Sonja hefted the heavy silver cross. It was at
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) least three inches thick, the beams as wide as a man's hand, and at its center hung a miniature Christ fashioned of gold and platinum. Kitty watched expectantly obviously waiting for Sonja's hand to burst into flames.
"What the hell did you think you were going to solve, clobbering me with this piece of junk?" she snarled.
Kitty's eyes were huge, the pupils swimming in madness. "You can't have him! I won't let you take his soul!"
"Who said anything about me stealing—"
"Monster!" Kitty launched herself at Sonja, her fingers clawing at her face. "Monster!"
Sonja hit her with the crucifix.
Kitty dropped to the alley floor, the top of her skull resting on her left shoulder. The only thing still holding her head onto her body were the muscles of her neck.
Way to go, kiddo! You just killed lover-boys bug-shit ex-girlfriend! You're batting a thousand!
"Shit."
She tossed the crucifix aside and squatted next to the body. No need to check for vital signs. The girl was d-e-a-d.
What to do? She couldn't toss the corpse in the dumpster. Someone was bound to find it, and once the body was identified New Orleans Homicide would take Judd in for questioning. Which meant they'd be looking for her, sooner or later. And she couldn't have that.
I've got an idea, crooned the Other. Just let me handle it.
Stealing the car was easy. It was a 76 Ford LTD with a muffler held in place with baling wire and a Duke for Governor sticker on the sagging rear bumper. Just the thing to unobtrusively dispose of a murder victim in the swamps surrounding New Orleans during the dead of night.
She took an exit off the Interstate leading out of New Orleans East. Originally it was to have connected a cookie-cutter housing development built on the very fringes of the marshlands to the outside world. The contractors got as far as pouring the concrete slab foundations before the oil slump hit. The condos were never built, but the access road remained, although there was nothing at its end but an overgrown tangle of briars and vines that had become a breeding ground for snakes and alligators.
Sonja drove without lights. Not that she needed them. She could see just fine in the dark.
Having reached her destination, she cut the engine and rolled to a stop. Except for the chirring of frogs and the grunting of gators, everything was quiet.
Sonja climbed out of the car and opened the trunk with a length of bent coat hanger. She stood for a second, silently inventorying the collection of plastic trash bags. There were six, total: one for the head, one for the torso, and one apiece for each limb. She'd already burned Kitty's clothing in the warehouse's furnace and
She barely had time to roll out of the way before something big and silvery smashed down where her head had been a second before. She coughed and black blood flew from her lips; a rib had broken off and pierced her lung again.
Kitty stood over her, clutching a three-foot long solid silver crucifix like a baseball bat.
While her madness gave her strength, it was obvious the damn thing was heavy. Sonja wondered which church she'd stolen it from.
The dead channel-crackling in Sonja's head grew louder. It was the sound of homicidal rage. Shrieking incoherently, Kitty swung at her rival a third time. While crosses and crucifixes had no effect on her— or any vampire, for that matter—if Kitty succeeded in landing a lucky blow and snapped her spine or cracked open her skull, she was dead no matter what.
Sonja rolled clear and got to her feet in one swift, fluid motion. Kitty swung at her again, but this time Sonja stepped inside her reach and grabbed the crucifix, wresting it from the other woman's hands.
Kitty staggered back, staring in disbelief as Sonja hefted the heavy silver cross. It was at
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) least three inches thick, the beams as wide as a man's hand, and at its center hung a miniature Christ fashioned of gold and platinum. Kitty watched expectantly obviously waiting for Sonja's hand to burst into flames.
"What the hell did you think you were going to solve, clobbering me with this piece of junk?" she snarled.
Kitty's eyes were huge, the pupils swimming in madness. "You can't have him! I won't let you take his soul!"
"Who said anything about me stealing—"
"Monster!" Kitty launched herself at Sonja, her fingers clawing at her face. "Monster!"
Sonja hit her with the crucifix.
Kitty dropped to the alley floor, the top of her skull resting on her left shoulder. The only thing still holding her head onto her body were the muscles of her neck.
Way to go, kiddo! You just killed lover-boys bug-shit ex-girlfriend! You're batting a thousand!
"Shit."
She tossed the crucifix aside and squatted next to the body. No need to check for vital signs. The girl was d-e-a-d.
What to do? She couldn't toss the corpse in the dumpster. Someone was bound to find it, and once the body was identified New Orleans Homicide would take Judd in for questioning. Which meant they'd be looking for her, sooner or later. And she couldn't have that.
I've got an idea, crooned the Other. Just let me handle it.
Stealing the car was easy. It was a 76 Ford LTD with a muffler held in place with baling wire and a Duke for Governor sticker on the sagging rear bumper. Just the thing to unobtrusively dispose of a murder victim in the swamps surrounding New Orleans during the dead of night.
She took an exit off the Interstate leading out of New Orleans East. Originally it was to have connected a cookie-cutter housing development built on the very fringes of the marshlands to the outside world. The contractors got as far as pouring the concrete slab foundations before the oil slump hit. The condos were never built, but the access road remained, although there was nothing at its end but an overgrown tangle of briars and vines that had become a breeding ground for snakes and alligators.
Sonja drove without lights. Not that she needed them. She could see just fine in the dark.
Having reached her destination, she cut the engine and rolled to a stop. Except for the chirring of frogs and the grunting of gators, everything was quiet.
Sonja climbed out of the car and opened the trunk with a length of bent coat hanger. She stood for a second, silently inventorying the collection of plastic trash bags. There were six, total: one for the head, one for the torso, and one apiece for each limb. She'd already burned Kitty's clothing in the warehouse's furnace and
Similar Books
It's Always Darkest Before the Fridge Door Opens: Enjoying the Fruits of Middle Age
Phil Callaway, Martha O. Bolton
