Night's Touch

Cara woke late Monday morning after a long and restless night. She had dreamed of vampires-



vampires chasing her, catching her, ripping out her throat, and drinking her blood. Vampires with hideous red eyes and skin as pale as death, their skeletal hands like claws as they reached for her.



Banishing all thoughts of vampires from her mind, she went into the bathroom, brushed her teeth and her hair, pulled on a pair of jeans, boots, and a sweater, and left the hotel. The library was closed on Sundays and Mondays, and the day stretched before her.



She stopped at a nearby cafe for pancakes and lots of strong coffee, then drove to the garage where Vince worked. She had expected to find the place closed up tight, but the big doors were open.



After parking her car in front, she walked around the corner to the entrance of the garage. The doors were open, but there were no lights on inside. She found Vince in his office in the back of the building.



Seated behind a battered oak desk with his feet propped up on one corner, he was talking on the phone.



A large gray and white cat slept on top of a battered metal filing cabinet.



Relief flooded through Cara, leaving her feeling momentarily weak. The sun was high in the sky and Vince was up and awake. He couldn't be a vampire. Her father had been mistaken. She wondered what had made him think Vince was a vampire in the first place, then put the thought from her mind. She didn't



know a lot about the Undead, but everybody knew they slept in their coffins during the day.



Vince smiled at her, then held up one finger, indicating he'd be done in a minute.



Cara glanced around the garage. There were three cars inside, all with their hoods up. A couple of big red metal tool chests stood against the wall to her left. Metal shelves lined the opposite wall. A wooden table was littered with tools and rags and greasy auto parts. It occurred to her that she had never seen her father putter around the house or work on his car or do any of the other mundane things most fathers did.



"Hey," Vince called as he hung up the receiver, "what brings you here?"



She smiled as he rounded the desk toward her, then shrugged. "It's my day off and I didn't have anything else to do."



"Well, I'm glad you came by."



"I guess you're busy?"



He nodded. "But never too busy for you."



She smiled, warmed by his words and the welcome in his eyes.



"Does your cat have a name?"



"I don't know. I just call him Cat."



"Not very imaginative of you."



He shrugged. "He's not really my cat. He just lives here. Can I get you something to drink?"



"What do you have?"



"Root beer, 7-Up, orange soda, Coke." He kept a Coke machine stocked for his clients.



"7-Up sounds good."



He got her a can from the machine, popped the top, and handed it to her. "So, how was your date with the stiff?"



She made a face at him. "It was all right. We went to dinner and then dancing at The Nocturne." She waited, hoping he would tell her what he had done last night When he didn't, she said, "My parents showed up at the club."



He grunted softly. "Checking up on you?"



"I don't think so. They have Di Giorgio for that." She frowned, wondering if Di Giorgio would still be trailing her now that she had moved out of the house. She didn't remember seeing him this morning, but then, she hadn't been looking. She'd had thoughts only for Vince.



He leaned against a corner of his desk, waiting for her to go on.



Stalling, Cara sipped her drink, wondering if she should say anything. She wanted to talk to someone about her parents but she didn't think anyone would believe her.



"What is it, Cara?" Vince asked. "Is something wrong?"



"I moved out of my house last night."



"You did?" he asked, frowning. "Why?"



"I found out something about my parents that bothered me."



"Go on," he said, his expression suddenly guarded.



"Anton told me that my parents are... I didn't want to believe him, but I guess he was right." She looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears. "It's just so... so, I don't know. So unbelievable. I..."



"Go on, darlin'. What did he tell you about your parents?" Vince asked, though he had a pretty good idea about what she was going to say.



"He said they're vampires." She waited for him to laugh at her gullibility, to tell her she was crazy and that Anton had been making a bad joke. He did none of those things.



"What did your parents say?"



"My father told me it was true."



"And that's why you moved out?"



"Of course! Didn't you hear what I said? They're vampires!" She shuddered. "How can I stay there?"



"You've lived with them your whole life, Cara. Have they ever hurt you?"



"Well, no, but..."



"They obviously love you."



She stared up at him. "Why are you defending them? Don't you understand? They're not human!"



Vince blew out a sigh; then, knowing he was making a huge mistake, he took her into his arms.



Setting the soda can on the desk, Cara sagged against him, her cheek resting against his chest, her arms sliding around his waist. "My father said you were a vampire, too."



He went suddenly still. "Oh?"



"I don't know why he said that. I mean, it can't be true," she said with a forced laugh, "or you'd be sleeping in your coffin, so why would he say such a thing?"



"I don't know." Vince swore under his breath. Blast! What should he do now? Tell her the truth? Wait?



Hope she never found out? "Cara..."



She looked up at him, her eyes wide. Innocent. Vulnerable.



He should tell her the truth, he thought, before it was too late, before things got out of hand. She'd hate him, sure, but better now than later. "Listen, Cara..."



"Hey, Cordova, my car ready yet?"



Vince put Cara away from him as the owner of the Dodge he had been working on earlier sauntered into the garage.



"Not quite, Murph," Vince said. "I need another thirty minutes or so."



Murph glanced at Cara, then looked at Vince and grinned. "Yeah, I can see that. Mind if I grab a Coke while I wait?"



"No, help yourself." Vince took Cara's hand in his. "Why don't I pick you up tonight, say around eight?



We can talk about it more then."



"All right. I'm staying at the hotel on Fourth Street. Room 302."



"Okay, I'll see you later."



He watched her walk away, wishing he knew what the hell he was going to tell her.