I finally had a lead, courtesy of Jamilla’s contact at the San Francisco Examiner. The chase was on, or so I hoped. The next morning I drove up Route 1 to Santa Barbara, which is located approximately sixty miles north of LA.
It was sobering and a little depressing to watch the sky actually grow bluer as I traveled away from Los Angeles and the copper-gray cover of smog thickly spread over the city.
I was to meet a man named Peter Westin at the Davidson Library in the University of California, Santa Barbara. The library was supposed to contain the most extensive collection of books on vampires and vampire mythology in the United States. Westin was the expert who had been recommended by Jamilla’s contact. She warned me that Westin was thoroughly eccentric, but a definitive source on vampires, past and present.
He met me in a small private sitting room just off the library’s main reading room. Peter Westin looked to be in his early forties and was dressed completely in deep purple and black. Even his fingernails were painted a shade of mauve. According to Jamilla, he owned a clothing and jewelry shop in a small mall on State Street in Santa Barbara, El Raseo. He had long black hair streaked with silver, and he was dark and dangerous looking.
Tm Detective Alex Cross,’! said as I shook hands with Westin. His grip was strong, lacquered fingernails or no.
‘I am Westin, descended fromVlad Tepes. I bid you welcome. The night air is chill and you must need to eat and rest,’ he said in overly dramatic tones.
I found myself smiling at the prepared speech/Sounds like something the count might have said in one of the old Dracula movies.’ Westin nodded, and when he smiled I saw that his teeth were perfectly formed. No fangs.
‘In several of them, actually. It’s the official invitation of the Transylvania Society of Dracula in Bucharest.’ I immediately asked, ‘Are there American Chapters?’ ‘American and Canadian. There’s even a Chapter in South Africa, and in Tokyo. There are several hundred thousand men and women with an avid interest in vampires. Surprise you. Detective? You thought we were a more modest cult?’
‘It might have a week ago, but not now,’ I said. ‘Nothing surprises me much anymore. Thanks for talking to me.’
Westin and I took seats at a large oak library table. He had selected a dozen or more volumes on vampires for me to read, or at least leaf through.
‘I especially recommend Carol Page’s Bloodlust: Conversations with Real Vampires. Ms Page is the real deal. She gets it,’ he told me, and handed over Bloodlust. ‘She has met vampires, and records their activities accurately and fairly. She started her investigation as a skeptic, much like yourself I expect.’
‘You’re right, I’m very skeptical,’ I admitted. I told Peter Westin about the most recent murder in Los Angeles, and then he let me ask whatever questions I wished about the vampire world. He answered patiently, and I soon learned that a vampire subculture exists in virtually every major city as well as some smaller ones, such as Santa Cruz, California; Austin, Texas; Savannah, Georgia; Batavia, New York; Des Moines, Iowa.
‘A real vampire,’he told me,’is a person born with an extraordinary gift. He, or she, has the capacity to absorb, channel, transform, and manipulate pranic energy - the life force. Serious vampires are usually very spiritual.’
‘How does drinking human blood fit in?’ I asked Peter Westin.
Then I quickly added,’If it does.’
Westin answered quietly/It is said that blood is the highest known source of pranic energy. If I drink your blood, then I take............