Finally, they pulled the cords, and they couldn't have waited a second more. The chutes opened, yanked hard at their bodies. The ground was rushing up at them.

They landed and rolled, just in time to see the Twin Otter crash and burn, maybe a mile away in the desert.

"No evidence," William said smugly, his eyes glazedwith pleasure and excitement. "That was such fun."

THE CRIMSON TIDE. That's what William called their murderous tour. He and Michael were on a roll now, and nothing could stop them until the mission was over. Nothing — not rain, or sleet, or the FBI.

The Red Cross van drifted slowly along Fremont Street, the old original Strip in Las Vegas. It blended into the garish neon scene. Made them feel invisible. Like so many young males, William and Michael felt invulnerable. They would never be caught, never be stopped.

The killers took everything in — the ridiculous spouting fountains in front of nearly every casino and hotel, a wedding chapel with "Love Me Tender" crooning tinnily from a loudspeaker, brightly painted tour buses, like the one ahead of the van from the United Union of Roofers and Waterproofers.

"This is a true vampire's city," William proclaimed. "I can feel the energy. Even these pathetic worms on the street must feel alive when they're here. It's fabulous — so theatrical, glittery, overly dramatic. Don't you just love it?"

Michael clapped his large hands. "I'm in heaven. We can be choosy here."

"That's our plan," said William. "To be very choosy."

At midnight they drove out to the new Strip, Las Vegas Boulevard. They stopped at the Mirage, where the Daniel and Charles Magic Show was advertised on a large neon billboard that rose high over the busy street.

"Is this such a good idea?" Michael asked, as they approached the box office inside the hotel. William ignored him and picked up two reserved tickets for the magic show. They were both dressed in black leather with black engineer boots. Nobody really cared what you wore in Vegas anyway. The show was about to begin as they took two seats near the front.

Everything about the theater was spectacular and over-the-top. An enormous stage had been covered in spray-on black velvet. The backdrop was a thirty-foot-high metallic structure covered in rear-projection pictures that kept changing. Half a dozen techies worked the spotlights. The lighting conveyed spatial grandness if nothing else.

William used the candle on their table to light a cigar. "It's show time, my dear brother. Remember what you said — we can be choosy. Don't forget that."

The magicians' grand entrance onto the stage was a glittery nugget of eye candy. Daniel and Charles literally flew down from the rafters, at least a fifty— or sixty-foot drop.

Then the magicians disappeared — and the spellbound audience erupted in applause.

William and Michael cheered as well. The sheer speed with which the hydraulic mechanisms worked was impressive to William.

Daniel and Charles appeared again. The magicians led two small elephants, a white stallion, and a glorious Bengal tiger onto the stage.

"That's me," William whispered against Michael's ear. "I amthat beautiful cat. I am right at Daniel's side. He should be careful."

The sound system played Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven" in computerized surround sound. The noise was as gaudy as the visuals. A powerful exhaust system vented out the odor of animal urine and dung. A semipleasant vanilla-almond fragrance was pumped in.

On the stage, meanwhile, the two magicians were arguing about something.

William leaned toward a handsome young couple who had just been seated at the cocktail table to his left. The male and female were in their mid-twenties. He immediately recognized them from a hit TV show. He couldn't decide which of the two actors was better looking. They were both so fly, so full of themselves. He knew that their names were Andrew Cotton and Dara Grey. Hell, he read EWand the tabloids in his spare moments.

"Isn't this amazing?" he asked them. "I love magic. It's so kinky and funny. This is hilarious!"

The female glanced his way. Dara Grey was about to put him in his place when she looked into William's eyes. Just like that — he had her. Only then did William bother to check out the rest of her: an electric-blue slip dress, vintage belt and jeweled shoes, embroidered Fendi bag. Nice, very nice. He wanted to feed on her.

This was going to be so good, so delicious.

Now he would seduce the boyfriend. Andrew, dear sweet Andrew.

Then — they would party until the dawn.

THE TWO MAGICIANS continued to taunt each other mercilessly onstage. William's eyes drifted back toward the bright lights and the loud bickering. He smiled, couldn't help it. The magicians were part of tonight too, a big part, actually. Important as hell.

Daniel and Charles were in their early forties. They were handsome in a crude sort of way, confident, especially in the eyes of the tawdry Vegas crowd.

Daniel spoke to the audience as if he were a trial lawyer cleverly engaging a jury. He waved a long, highly polished sword, using it for emphasis.

"We are performance artists, possibly the best now working in the world. We've played at Madison Square and the Winter Garden in New York, the Magic Castle, the Palladium in London, the Crazy Horse Saloon in Paris. We've headlined in Frankfurt, Sydney, Melbourne, Moscow, Tokyo, of course."

Charles seemed bored by his partner's self-serving speech. He sat down on the edge of the stage and yawned until his tonsils showed.

"They don't care about your pedigree, Daniel," Charles finally said. "Most of these bumpkins wouldn't know Houdini from Siegfried and Roy. Do a cheap trick; that's what they're here for. Tricks are for kids, and they're all kids! Do a trick! Do a cheap, slick trick!"

Daniel suddenly pointed the tip of his sword at his partner. He waggled it threateningly. "I'm warning you, chump."

William looked over at the couple sitting beside him. "This part is pretty good," he whispered, "believe it or not."

He caught the male's eye, but the actor quickly pulled his gaze away. Too late. He had him too. The male wanted to get into his pants. Who could blame him? God, he wanted to feed. Right here, right now.

Onstage, Daniel had begun to yell at Charles. "I've had enough of your high-handed, condescending bullshit, partner. I've had enough of you! More than enough!"

"That's too bad," William mimicked the next few words spoken onstage, "because I've only just begun to torment you, and them! The bumpkins!"

The two actors sitting next to them laughed at William's accurate play-by-play. He had them utterly charmed. Now the male almost couldn't take his eyes off William. Poor, poor Andrew.

Suddenly, up onstage, Daniel rushed at Charles. He thrust the sword right into Charles's chest. Charles's scream was piercing and real. Blood erupted from his chest, spilled and splashed everywhere. The frightened audience gasped, and the room went quiet.

William and Michael giggled, couldn't stop. So did the couple beside them. Others shushed them.

Daniel began to drag Charles's body across the stage, careful to emphasize how heavy Charles was. Very dramatic stuff. He stopped at a small prop that was actually a butcher-block table. He draped the body across the table.

He took an ax, hoisted it high, and chopped Charles's head off.

The room exploded with screams. Some people covered their eyes. "This is not funny," someone shouted.

William roared laughter and clapped and stamped his feet. The loud shushing continued all around him. People were horrified, but they wanted more. The two actors beside him were laughing as hard as he was. The woman playfully swatted William's arm.