CHAPTER TWELVE
Standing in the hallway just outside Miriam’s hospital room, I endure the most difficult debate of my existence. Every ounce of loyalty in my body urges me to run to the airport and go to Lula. But I cannot move my feet, as I am equally torn about leaving Miriam unguarded. Part of me, the rational part, knows that my leaving will not save Lula. She has either fled and survived, or she has not. A three-and-a-half-hour trip—if a flight is even available at this late hour—will not change a thing. Alternatively, I could call one of our trusted members, but by the time they get there—same thing. Too late.
I stare down at my black Converses, shaking my head. Fool! Why did I send her? Why did I think she would be safe? We are so connected that I often forget we are not one and the same, and that simply because I can handle myself does not mean she can.
I groan and stare at my phone. “Come on, Lula. Call me back. Call, dammit.”
“Mike? Everything okay out there?” Miriam asks from inside her room.
I exhale softly. I must be more careful. Especially around my smart little librarian. She might notice that something is amiss, and God forbid she figures me out.
Really, Michael? She’s going to jump to the conclusion that you aren’t human?
“I’m fine.” I poke my head through Miriam’s doorway. “Lula and I got into an argument earlier, and now she says she might not come.”
I am a right bastard, a vampire through and through. I say this because my comment to Miriam serves the purpose of covering myself should the worst have happened to Lula.
Do not get me wrong. If anyone has so much as harmed a hair on Lula’s pretty blonde head, I will hunt them down to the ends of the earth. I’m merely pointing out what a calculating lot my kind is. We always think in terms of survival and covering our tracks versus simply caring for others like we should.
“I hope it’s nothing serious?” Miriam says.
I think of what a man in his twenties might say. “Couldn’t tell ya.” I shrug. “Women.”
Miriam shakes her head and adds a tsk-tsk.
Wrong answer?
“Well,” I say, “I’m going to let you get some rest. I won’t be far if you need anything.” Ten feet from your door, even if I must make out with the entire staff to stay.
“Thanks, Mike.” She flashes a tired, but warm smile and nestles under her covers. “You’re a good kid.”
Kid? Snarl… Regardless of my feelings, I know her comment is a good thing. She doesn’t doubt I am a college lad.
“Thanks,” I say with a wink. “See you in the morning.” I flick the light switch on the wall, but the door remains open, shedding plenty of light on the foot of her bed. A dim light over her headboard also provides illumination. Sweet dreams, my little librarian.
I could stand all night—not an issue—but I don’t want to draw too much attention, so I find a chair and place it outside her door.
Within moments, I’m silently chanting with my phone in hand. Please, Lula. Call. Please.
I then look at the photos she’s sent, scratching my stubbled chin. Hmmm…there is a note in Clive’s appointment book that says “160 Saguaro.” I toggle through the rest of the photos that are of the weeks prior to Clive’s trip here to Phoenix. I see he’s met with several people I know—a few council members, a phone call with Mrs. Reynolds, the head of one of our society’s families, and a scribble I cannot read clearly.
I look closer. Oh, it’s a note to buy Pop-Tarts. Clive really liked those for some strange reason.
Other than the 160 Saguaro, I do not see anything to indicate why Clive even came here. Nothing about a new client, no unfamiliar names, nothing out of the ordinary.
I sit there thinking about what “saguaro” might mean besides being a type of large cactus. Well, he wasn’t planning to buy one hundred and sixty cacti, so it must be an address. I pull up my map app and input the name.
Great. Dozens of streets, courts, loops, ways, roads, and lanes, including east and west sides, pop up containing this number and word. They’re not all in Phoenix either. Five nearby cities have their own addresses with this combination.
I will need to visit Viviana in the morning to see if I can’t ply her with a little charm. They must know something about where Clive was when he died since they recovered his ashes. Oh, did I mention that when my kind dies, we turn into a cloud of dust? It’s very disturbing to witness. One moment, a person is standing before you, the next, poof! Gone. Just like that. I suppose it has certainly helped conceal our existence since there are never bodies left behind for scientists to study; however, it makes the process of accepting death very difficult. I will never get to look at Clive’s face, with those soft wrinkles around his mouth or that mischievous twinkle in his eyes, again. I will never have closure because in the back of my mind, his death isn’t real. There is no body, and part of me will always wonder if that soup can simply contains someone else.
My mind quickly conjures up an image of Clive, with his shaggy brown hair and scruffy beard, sitting on a cold beach in Alaska, a pair of binoculars in his hands. He loved bird watching. In fact, every year, he would threaten to retire and apply for a world visa—something only the most respected, oldest vampires are eligible for—and see the birds from every continent.
He will never get to live his dream. Which only stokes the coals of my anger.
I close my eyes and force myself to breathe it away. I cannot make any more mistakes, and my rage will not help me.
The next morning I wake to the foot of a cranky nurse kicking my shin. I jolt upright in my chair.
“Hey, you can’t park here,” she says. “We have gurneys we need to roll through.”
“Oh, I, uh…” I glance at my watch. It’s seven in the morning. Seven? Seven! I quickly grab the chair and put it back inside the empty room where I found it and then go for my cell phone.
The moment I push the home button, my blood turns to ice-cold rocks. The battery is dead. This is precisely why I do not like anything with batteries—cars not excluded. There should be a fuel tank on everything, and when the fuel gets low, an alarm should sound. Refueling should be as quick and easy as going to a gas pump.
All right. Think. Think…
A nurse I’ve never seen passes by. “Excuse me, but would you happen to have a charger?” I ask.
She gives me the classic f-off look and continues walking.
“Hi there,” says a saucy female voice. “You need one of these?” It’s Nurse Delicious Lips dangling a power cord.
“You’re still here,” I say. “Thank goodness. Yes! I need that.”
I reach for the charger, but she pulls it back. “Nuh-uh-uh… You have to pay me first.” She puckers her lips.
Dear vampire gods. I want to roll my eyes, but I must know if Lula called or texted.
“Fine. Bring it over.”
Nurse Davis’s smile is all devils and vixens. “Make it count, big man.” She wraps her arms around my neck and presses her soft lips to mine. Oddly, I am wondering how this would feel if she were Miriam. I am also thinking that I wish she’d hurry up—because…Lula!
“Ummm…” she moans into my mouth, and being the polite man that I am, I moan back.
“Mike? What are you doing?”
I pull away and find Miriam in a wheelchair with a nurse behind her.
“Oh, I was just…” Making out with a nurse, looking like a wretched manwhore. “Wait. Are you—”
“Leaving, yes,” Miriam says. “Why are you kissing that nurse?”
It’s a very good question, one I can most easily answer with yet another lie. “This is—”
I am about to say she’s a friend, but Miriam cuts in.
“Lula! Oh, I’m so sorry!” she says. “Mike told me you were an assistant. I didn’t realize he meant medical assistant.”
Nurse Davis looks down at her scrubs and then gives me an awkward shrug.
Miriam continues, “So nice to meet you. Mike didn’t mention how gorgeous you are!” Miriam is a tad bit too excited to meet my “girlfriend,” and it puts me on edge.
“Oh now…” Nurse Davis swipes her hand through the air, playing along.
The nurse in charge of Miriam’s wheelchair is flapping her mouth, clearly confused by all of it. She knows Nurse Davis isn’t named Lula.
Enough with the chitchat.
“Lula is about to head home,” I say, “and since you are too, Miriam, I can escort you.”
“But don’t you want to talk with Lula?” Miriam asks.
Ah, yes. I told her we were in a fight.
“No. Everything’s great. See?” I turn toward Nurse Davis and kiss her again.
“Michael?” says a very, very familiar voice.
Lula? “Lula!” Without regard for what’s just transpired, I dash toward her and sweep her into a twirling hug. “Why didn’t you call?”
“You’re. Crushing. My. Ribs.” Lula grunts.
“Shut up.” I set her down but do not release her from the bear hug. “Why didn’t you call? I was worried.”
“I did call. You didn’t answer.”
“My phone died,” I say.
Someone clears their throat, and I slowly turn my head to see all three women staring at me in disgust. All right, not Nurse Delicious Lips. She’s smirking. But Miriam does not look happy.
“Let’s go,” Miriam says to her nurse.
“I can explain.” Actually, I cannot. There simply is no way. Miriam thinks I’ve just cheated on my girlfriend and lied to cover it up.
Nurse Davis walks off with a chuckle, and Miriam disappears around the corner.
“What was that?” Lula asks. She is wearing denim overalls and has her blonde hair in pigtails.
“Nothing to be concerned about. What are you wearing?” I scoff. “You look like you’re going to a rave.”
“Shut up. I almost died because of you, which is why I rented a Rolls Royce at the airport and put it on your expense account.”
She’s serious, but I’m so thrilled to see her in one piece, I do not care. “What happened with the men? Who were they?” I ask in a low voice.
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for asking.” She pauses, looking me over. “Speaking of outfits, why are you dressed like a Beastie Boy?”
I give her a stern warning with my dark eyes. She knows I’m a suit man, not a trendsetting teen. “Answer the question.”
“Fine. No clue who they were, but I’d recognize their scents and voices if I ever see them again. And you were right—they were young. I lost them after half a block.”
I figured as much. Only young and stupid or desperate vampires would stomp into someone else’s territory unannounced. It’s difficult to explain, but older vampires have a sixth sense about each other. We know when one of our kind is near, especially one that isn’t part of our society, which makes sneaking around a bit tricky. Us older vampires know a few tricks, however. Myself especially.
I look at Lula, feeling overwhelmed for a moment. I trap her in another bear hug. “I’m very relieved you didn’t die. Again.”
“Okay. Okay.” She pushes me off. “I know you worship the ground I walk on, but show some dignity.”
I laugh and gaze down at her. “You are a complete and utter pain in the ass. What’s not to love?”
“Exactly. So what do you want to do about your,” she leans in to whisper, “human pet?”
My eyes flicker with annoyance. “She is not my pet. And I need to go pay a few visits.” First to Viviana, so I can attempt to quietly charm her into telling me something about Clive’s death, a location perhaps. Second, to Bob Kline, the developer who sent his friends after Miriam. Third and lastly, the thugs themselves, who I plan to tell that Miriam Murphy has her own connections and is off-limits unless they would like to experience a mysterious string of disappearances with their members. I know I will have to kill one of them tonight to prove myself. Those type of men only speak one language: violence.
“Think you’ll be hungry later?” I ask.
“Uh…I guess?” She shrugs.
“How’s Mexican sound?” I wink so she knows I’m not talking about the food.
Lula’s eyes light up. “Oh, I haven’t had that for a long time. Will he—I mean, will the dish be extra spicy?”
She’s asking if the person will be a violent criminal—they simply taste better.
I smile. “Of course.”
“Then I’m in.”
“Great. You can help me do some hole digging later, too.” We’ll have to get rid of our spicy dish’s remains once we’re done. “As for Miriam, go down and catch her in the parking lot. Stay with her until I return.”
“What do I tell her?” Lula asks.
“You’ll figure something out, but try to make it look like it’s your fault I was kissing that other woman.”
Lula rolls her eyes. “You’re the worst.”
“You’re the worst, Mr. Vanderhorst,” I correct with a grin. “Now off you go. Scoot, scoot.”
She shakes her head and then disappears down the stairwell to go find Miriam. Relief washes over me, knowing that Lula will keep my pet—I mean, Miriam safe.
As for me, I will need to be very cautious and not leave behind more bodies with calling cards. Also, I will need to wait until nightfall so that I can enter and exit the thugs’ ranch.
First things first, however. I must find out where it is.
Wait, no. What is the matter with me? I must work on Clive’s murder first. I let out a breath.
My priorities feel all jumbled, and I do not like it one bit. Family and loyalty are everything and must always come first. Nevertheless, something inside me wants to forget all that and ensure my librarian will be safe.