CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“You live here?” says Miriam the moment we pull up to my apartment building, and I cannot lie, the place is a nightmare—empty plastic trash bags are strewn about the parking lot filled with rusty dented cars; a putrid pile of garbage overflows from the dumpster onto the walkway leading into the building; and there is graffiti all around the outside of the structure.
“I’m saving for college,” I tell her.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like a snob.”
I exit my car and come around to open the door for her. I like that she always waits. She enjoys being treated like a lady.
Lucky her, I’m in the lady-pampering business.
I pull on the handle and hold out my hand. “I promise the inside is just as delightfully urban.”
She takes my hand and slides out. “No—it’s not that. It just doesn’t look safe.”
“Oh, you mean the crack pipe on the ground? That’s part of the neighborhood’s attempt to keep out the bourgeoisie—they’re always snooping around, looking for their next gentrification opportunity.” I make a sour face. “We like to keep it gritty and real around here—part of the charm.”
She laughs. “You’re hysterical.”
I wish I could laugh with her because I’m unsure what I’m going to do. I had not intended to host anyone and certainly not play bodyguard. But a vampire has been inside her home. In addition, the cartel has been wiped out, apparently by vampires, which only adds to my worry.
Who killed them? It must be some kind of drug war, and the vampires have decided to take over.
We go inside the building, and when we get to the front door, it swings open before I’ve had a chance to find my key. It’s Lula, and her face is bright red.
“Mr. Vander—” She notices Miriam standing next to me. “Mikey! You’re home.”
I nod and show Miriam inside. “Yes. And how did you get here so fast?” I don’t hide my disapproval.
“I wasn’t far when I called you?” Lula says with a guilty face.
Liar. She drove really fast. “Miriam, will you excuse us for a moment?”
“Sure.”
I give Lula a look, and we step into the enclosed hallway.
“Mr. Vanderhorst,” Lula whispers, “they didn’t even try to cover their tracks. It was a slaughter—bodies everywhere.”
“You’re certain they were killed by…youknowwhats?” I whisper.
“Yes. We need to call the council—something’s going on, and it’s bad. Bad, bad. Like the big Vegas outbreak of ’77 bad.”
Oh, yes. We all heard about it. Some wacko vampire made a bunch of new vampires, and they binged on a bunch of tourists. All that polyester and fangs, must have been a nightmare.
I rub my stubbled jaw, thinking this over. I am not supposed to be getting anywhere near Clive’s death investigation, and now I’ve involved Lula. I would need a very good explanation as to why we believe that vampires in Arizona have turned into drug dealers.
“By the way, I burned all of the bodies,” Lula whispers. “I lit ’em up and hightailed it out of there. Thankfully, that Rolls is so smooth. Felt like I was only going sixty.”
“You risked getting pulled over.”
“Rather that than being connected to a mass murder—there were women and children there, Mikey. I found a damned baby.”
Remember when I said no vampire in his or her right mind would suck on a baby? So, yeah. These vampires are a big problem.
“We have to stop them, Mikey.” Lula grabs my arm. “They’re animals.”
“Sadly, they are not our only concern. The cartel in Mexico is going to hear of this and want to retaliate.” Only, it won’t be against our kind. It will be against whoever they believe did this—military, police, rival gangs. Bottom line, it’s going to trigger an endless string of bloodbaths. “This is such a mess.”
“No joke,” says Lula. “And it’s way above my pay grade. We have to call the council and tell them what’s happened—by the way, why is Miriam here?”
“A vampire was in her house, and why didn’t you mention her book collection?” Lula had gone home with Miriam from the hospital.
“’Cause I knew you’d get all goo-goo-eyed. And I was right. Your eyes are all glossy and book-lusty.”
“I cannot help myself.” I lean in. “Her collection is huge and private.” No sharing.
Lula rolls her eyes. “Whatever. So who was in her house?”
“I do not know. The scent was unfamiliar.”
“Bob Kline?” Lula thinks aloud.
“No.” I shake my head. “I went to Kline’s home, and while there were many scents—along with disgusting clutter from a wild party—” Really. Who treats their home like that? So vile. “—I’m sure Kline’s scent was one of them. Whoever entered Miriam’s home was not at Bob Kline’s party.”
“Oh no, Mikey!” Lula grabs my arm and squeezes. “What if the people at that party killed all of the people at the ranch?”
I give Lula a look. “Why would a big group of vampires leave in the middle of a party and go on a killing spree?” Plus, they left all of the bodies at the ranch with bite marks. “Wait.” I feel my heart race. “What if they are all new vampires?”
Just like the Vegas outbreak of ’77.
“Either that or a bunch of vampires got really, really high and had the munchies,” Lula jokes.
“Not funny. Whatever is going on, Aspen is involved, and it’s the reason he’s not investigating Clive’s murder.” Aspen was certainly at Kline’s house. “Which means I was right; he knows who killed Clive because he was there.”
Lula pulls out her phone. “I’m calling.”
“No. Wait. We cannot go to the council and accuse Aspen, a leader, of something like this without proof.” We are talking unlawful murder of a society leader, likely making new vampires without a permit, killing children and innocent people, and doing so in a very conspicuous manner. In addition, they seem to be dealing in drugs or taking over the local trafficking or some unscrupulous business—a big no-no.
“There’s another party tomorrow night,” I say.
Lula’s brown eyes spark with worry. “And…I’m getting the feeling that I won’t like your next words.”
“We are going to that party to gather evidence.”
“No. No way.” Lula shakes her head vigorously, making her pigtails flop around. “And they already know you, so how could we possibly waltz in and not be noticed?”
“Did I say we? I meant you, who they do not know. I will stay outside.”
“How come you always make me do the dangerous stuff?”
“You simply have a gift for being at the right place at the right time. Speaking of, I need you to go back to Miriam’s and go through every inch of her home. Check all the doors and windows. I want to know how they got in.”
“And what are you going to do? Drool over your pet?”
“I do not drool over anything but potato samosas.”
Lula looks down at the ground, and the sudden pain in her eyes reminds me that I am being insensitive. None of this is easy for her.
I take her hand and give it a squeeze. “You’re being a real trooper, Lula. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it.”
She sighs. “I just want all of this to be over so we can go home.”
The moment she says those words, a sense of unease dances in my stomach.
“Michael?” she mutters. “You are coming home after this, aren’t you?”
I feel like lead has been poured into my undead heart. The thought of ever leaving my territory hasn’t crossed my mind in over two centuries, the time before I accepted my place in this world. But now? “I do not know, Lula. Clive is gone and…”
Tears form in Lula’s eyes.
I step in close and wrap my arms around her. “Please do not cry, Lula,” I whisper. “You know how special you are to me.”
“No,” she sobs. “You’re going to leave me. For her. I know you will.”
I pet the back of Lula’s head. “We are family and dear friends. Do not think I could ever abandon you.” But as I say those words, I do not know if they are the truth. Because the truth is something I am not ready to face. “We will figure all this out together, Lula. But after we have justice for our Clive.” He deserves that much given all he did for us. He fought to make vampires civilized and accountable. He fought for the laws that protect innocent humans and punish evil vampires. Everything good in me, I owe to him.
I hold Lula tighter. “We will figure this out.”
“Where did Lula go?” Miriam asks when I finally return inside my sad dump of an apartment, where she’s seated on the foldout couch—a gold and brown plaid thing that I am certain should not be slept on by anyone with a pulse. Not even then.
“Let’s sit over here.” I point to the world’s smallest kitchen table, which is placed literally two feet from the crusty electric stove. I cannot help thinking that this was a utility closet the owners decided to rent out, because who wouldn’t want such a fine dwelling?
I sit across from her, my back wedged against the wall. “Miriam, I need you to tell me why anyone would want to break into your home. Is there anything of particular value?”
“Besides hundreds of priceless, rare books?”
“Really? Which ones?” I hold out my hand. “My apologies. I simply get excited about literature.”
She smiles reservedly. “I know how you feel.”
“But someone was in your home, and I’ve sent Lula to investigate.”
Damn. Why did I say that? It was a slipup. Complete slipup. I feel so connected to Miriam that I want to let my guard down.
“You sent Lula? Is she a psychic, too?” Miriam asks.
“Why yes. Lula is one of the best, in fact.” Must remember to tell Lula she has a new job title. “But back to my question: is there anything rare—books, artifacts, other valuables—that might be of interest to someone?”
“You mean someone like Bob Kline?”
“Exactly.”
“There’s nothing in my house except what I told you already.”
“No hidden treasures?” I ask half-jokingly.
“If there were, I certainly wouldn’t tell you.”
I reach across the table and place my hand over Miriam’s. The sensation is powerful and electric. I snatch my hand away and try to hide what I just felt. “I’m your friend, Miriam.”
“No. We are strangers with a relationship that is getting stranger.”
“I am trying to help you.” How can she not see that?
“Really?” she says in her small defiant voice. “Because I keep getting the feeling that you want more from me.”
I do. But I don’t know what that is. “No. I need a job. You are my boss. But on top of that, we are kindred spirits, wouldn’t you say?”
She shrugs.
“I didn’t want to work with you, Miriam, because you had a job when I happened to need one. l returned because you offered to help me. Me. A complete stranger walks in off the street and you offered a recommendation letter.”
“Well,” she grumbles, “I know what it’s like to be young and trying to make your way in the world.”
“And there, you see, that is why I came back and wanted to be your assistant. At least, that is what I told myself initially, but now I know it is your friendship I desire.”
I think.
Wait. Yes, yes. I’m sure. If she plays her cards right, I might someday tell her I drink blood and am older than the United States of America.
I mentally shiver. No. That’s not allowed. Plus, she would definitely think me mad.
“Well, I appreciate how you—and Lula,” she adds quickly, “have been so generous. I’m sure you’ve noticed I don’t have any family left and not many friends. I have Jeremy now, but we’ve only been together for about four months, and he’s been away for most of it. And when we are together, we don’t socialize with other people much.”
How sad. Miriam is lovely. So lovely and full of life. “He should take you out more, Miriam. You should live every moment and every breath as if it were your last.” Because someday it will be.
The thought sends a painful spike right through my center. I do not know her, but to lose her would devastate me. Why didn’t Clive ever explain this would happen? Nevertheless, I have to wonder if I would have made a different choice. Would I have simply stood by and allowed her to die had I known what giving her my blood would entail?
She continues, “I don’t mind. He has a busy career. I have my passion. And when we’re together, Jeremy likes having me all to himself. He doesn’t like sharing.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up. “Sorry, but did you say…he doesn’t like sharing?”
“I know. I know.” She swipes her small hand through the air dismissively. “It sounds like he’s some archaic, possessive barbarian, but it’s not like that. Not at all. He’s very sweet and kind and protective. It’s just that he works and travels a lot, and when he’s home, he wants to spend all of his time with me.”
Miriam is chatting away, but I am nowhere close to listening. Because in this moment, everything makes sense. Miriam’s boyfriend is a goddamned vampire. That was who I smelled inside her home.
I jolt to my feet, practically tipping over the table.
“Mike? What’s wrong?”
What’s wrong is that I am very likely not the first vampire to have given her his blood! What’s wrong is that I think it means she is already bonded to someone else, and my feelings for her are now and will always be a one-way street!
I am her pet!
“Mike?” she prods.
“Uhh…sorry. I just realized I’m hungry. Want to get some Indian food? My treat.” I need something spicy.
Her eyes narrow in suspicion. “Errrr…okay. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yep. So good. Never better.”
I slide my phone from my pocket and quickly text Lula.
Me: Call off the search. I know who was in her house.
Lula: Who?
Me: I will tell you later. Must stress eat first.