Abigail Rath Versus Bloodsucking Fiends

by Catherine Schaff-Stump

  Vince came back and waited respectfully until I was done. We went outside, the sun low in the sky. Vince carried a paper sack with handles.

  “Thanks,” I said. Talking to Father Stewart had done more to comfort me than I would have guessed.

  “It’s what I do,” said Vince. “I’m your best friend. All about support. Marty called. She wants to see you. I said I’d get you to the rink tomorrow.”

  “I should call her, let her know I’m okay.” I hadn’t talked to her in three days. “What’s in the bag?”

  “Holy wafers. Holy water. Chuck helped me box up this stuff.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. He does it for some of the priests. I explained to him about the vampires, and we raided a supply cabinet. In case you’re interested, I downed some holy water. No one can influence me now.”

  We continued the walk home. The sun was sinking under the edge of the horizon. “Are you planning to do something?”

  “Yes. As soon as Ned gets back, I’m going after them.”

  I stopped in my tracks. “Don’t be stupid, Vince. If Mom and Mr. Christopher couldn’t handle Larissa, what makes you think you and Ned can?”

  “I don’t know. Surprise, maybe.”

  “I would really, really appreciate it if you didn’t get yourself maimed. Or killed.”

  “Abby, we’ve got to stop them.”

  “Didn’t you hear what Ned said in the diner?” Three weeks ago, but it was really a decade in terms of what had happened in my life. “Your dad and Ned thought they could take the vampire out, and look what happened to Ned.”

  The air whooshed and I shivered, goose bumps on my forearms. Coral was sitting in a tree. No sign of Ned, who I hoped would be trailing her. Maybe he was so skilled I couldn’t see him.

  She drifted down. Vince held the bag out in front of us. She fidgeted, keeping her distance. “What’s in there?”

  Vince sized her up. “No offense, Coral, but we want you to stay where you are.”

  “I’m sorry about your mom,” said Coral.

  My hands shook. “You have no right to talk about my mother.”

  “I don’t. I know you don’t trust me. You shouldn’t. But you’ve got to get over to Mr. Christopher’s, right now, before it’s too late.”

  “What are you talking about?” Vince stepped between us. I’m not sure who he thought might hurt whom.

  “Just go, okay?”

  She rocketed into the air again, shifting into a bat. I should have guessed she could do that.

  Vince and I looked at each other and ran. Streetlights came on, and people strolling and jogging swerved as we plowed forward. It took us some time to get to Mr. Christopher’s house, but we arrived, puffing. A car we didn’t know pulled away from Mr. Christopher’s house. If I’d been in one of Dad’s movies, I would have shot the tire out with a crossbow.

  “We’re going in,” I said. I tossed Vince a cross and a squirt gun. Holy water squirt gun. I held onto my own cross and the XP-215, and we moved forward.

  The front door was open, which was major uncool. I touched it and it creaked the rest of the way. The living room was untouched. Of course there would be no damage upstairs. I turned to Vince. “You stay here. I’m going downstairs.”

  “No way.”

  “Yes. Because if someone comes in, I don’t want us both being shut in the basement with, I don’t know, whatever’s going on down there. You stay right here.”

  Vince didn’t argue. The basement door was splintered around the lock, something I liked even less than the front door being opened.

  The first smell that hit me was Air Wick autumn spice. In the basement, a leisure room served as a front to Mr. Christopher’s crypt. It was dedicated to those times Mr. Christopher needed to wind down after a long night of doing whatever vampires did. There was a leather couch and a wooden bar that gleamed from polishing. A bear skin rug laid in front of a fake fireplace, which made the room look nicer than it was. No windows. The room didn’t smell like blood, even though the bar behind the refrigerator was stocked with it. A door in the right wall led to a black marble bathroom. On the opposite wall were the large doors that led to the crypt. I went through them and wandered onto a movie set.

  Several smells hit me. Dirt, no doubt native soil. Rusty blood. Roses and candles. From here on back to the opposite wall, Mr. Christopher’s home was classic vampire. He had candelabras and a coffin on a dais, black and Victorian, with crepe draping. The lid was open. The lead weight of dread held me for a moment. “Mr. Christopher?” My voice trembled.

  From the coffin there was a groan. I held the cross in front of me like a shield and stepped forward.

  Mr. Christopher was in the coffin all right. A large piece of wood pegged him to the coffin like he was a beetle in a collection. He was pierced all over with splinters of rowan, like someone had tried to kill him with acupuncture. His body had regressed, skin dry and gray. The smell of rot made me step back. The worst of it was that he was awake. His yellow fangs snapped.

  No vampire could have done this. A human had to come down here, most likely while Mr. Christopher was sleeping, and then they could have taken their time. That meant that Larissa had an active Renfield assistant, unless William and Larissa had figured out another work around, like wearing gloves, or getting rowan shots so they weren’t allergic, or something.

  “It’s okay,” I said. I felt awful, because my voice shook. “I can take all these out, and you’ll be fine.”

  “No,” his voice wheezed out of him. “Not you. Not safe.”

  “I can’t leave you like this.”

  “Must. Your father…”

  “You’re right. Dad can do it. I’ll get Dad.”

  “No,” said Mr. Christopher. “Your father…kill…me.”

  “Like fun,” I said. “No one’s killing you.”

  “It’s…only way.”

  “No,” I said. “I’ll figure something out.”

  He coughed, but I think he was trying to laugh. “No. Poisoned.”

  “All your blood is temporary,” I said. “We can fix this.” I didn’t have the slightest idea how. This was like diffusing a vampire bomb. I wasn’t losing Mom and Mr. Christopher. It wasn’t happening.

  “Abby?” Vince’s voice came from the other room.

  “I’ll be right back.” I ran back out to the apartment. Vince was on the stairs. “I told you—”

  “Ned’s here. And he’s hurt.”

  “Oh, come on!” I jerked open the refrigerator door. There was blood in bottles like wine. Beverage affectation was common among older vampires. There were also blood bank bags. I grabbed a couple of bags out of Mr. Christopher’s fridge. “The fun doesn’t stop!” The packets would be easier for Ned to drink, like juice boxes.

  I tossed them to Vince. “Be careful. Don’t let him get you instead.”

  I stood in the doorway and yelled back. “Mr. Christopher, I’m getting Dad. We are coming back. Hold on.” I hoped he could hold on. I raced up the stairs.

  Ned was sitting on Mr. Christopher’s couch, his fangs penetrating the blood sacks, blood spraying his face. Vince was backed as far away as he could be. “He’s gonna need more blood,” I said to Vince. “In the fridge. Don’t go in the coffin room, okay?”

  Vince scrambled down the stairs.

  I turned my attention to Ned. “You were following Coral, and…?”

  “Larissa wanted her back. I got in the way.”

  “Before or after we saw Coral?”

  “After. You know that thing about silver bullets? Even though they won’t kill us, they hurt like a son of a gun.”

  “Are they still in you?”

  “Yup.” Ned grinned and looked like a demented clown. “I am not going to be at my best for a while. How’s Mr. Christopher?”

  “He’s in bad shape.”

  Ned used some choice expletives I’d get into trouble writing down. He wheezed. “Sorry about your mom.”

  “Me too
.”

  Vince arrived at the top of the stairs and tossed Ned more blood. “What was that about Coral?”

  “She’s gonna have that slumber party, right? It’s tonight.” Ned slurped blood.

  I crossed my arms. “I doubt it.” I started punching in Dad’s cell number.

  “She doesn’t have a choice. It’s an obey-the-head-vampire thing. Larissa wants her to. She will. They want you, Abby.”

  I waited for the ringing. It went to voicemail. Why did it go to voicemail? Where was my father? “Too bad. I’m not going.”

  “Darn right, Abby.” Ned stood up. “I need the two of you to stay here. Better yet, go to Vince’s. Vince, tell Charlie—your dad—what’s going on. Sit tight.”

  “That sounds like you’re not going with us,” Vince said.

  “I’m not. I’m the last vampire standing.” Ned held his midsection together.

  “Ned, you’re outgunned.”

  “If I was Larissa, I would think I’m too scared to come back. Surprise is on my side.” He tossed back the last bag of blood. “I mean it. Go home, Vince. Watch Abby. Neither of you do anything stupid.”

  “Ned,” Vince said, “wait.”

  Ned was out the door.

  My phone blasted music into the air. I popped it up to my ear. “Dad, it’s Abby—”

  “It’s not Dad.”

  Crap. “Hello, William. I’m going to need to change this number.”

  “Aren’t you coming tonight?”

  “Sorry, no. What with you being an evil vampire jerk and all.”

  Vince’s eyes were shooting daggers. Not really shooting, but I’d read that phrase in an old Goosebumps book somewhere.

  “Everyone else is here,” said William.

  “Everyone?”

  “Yup. Coral, Marty, lots of Wolcroft girls.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I guess I’m gonna need to get my toothbrush.” I closed the phone and looked at Vince.

  “I need to go get Marty.”

  “Ned is doing that.”

  “Ned is the perfect decoy for me getting the slumber party out.”

  “I don’t think—” Vince began.

  “I have to do this,” I said. “Vince, I don’t know where my dad is. He’s not answering his phone. What if they have him too?”

  “I don’t think you should do this alone,” Vince said. “Let’s get a few things from your dad’s stash, Abby. Before we go. This is what I wanted to do tonight anyway.”

  “Sure,” I said. “I need you for backup.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Pillow Fights from the Crypt

  We stopped at my house, empty because Dad was at the hospital. Once again Vince and I were off the grid, and Vince’s mom and dad would be worried about us. This time around, I wasn’t an idiot. I kept trying to call Dad. He wasn’t picking up. Vince ditched his phone at Mr. Christopher’s. I didn’t say anything.

  There comes a time in everyone’s life when they are on their own, and those moments are the ones that tell you what kind of person you’re going to be. The difference between going after Ned three weeks ago, and going to rescue my friends? Now, I had the good sense to be scared. I wasn’t going to waltz into a vampire lair and save the day, but there was no way that I was going to let William and Larissa Bathory hurt my friends. They’d already done enough to Mom and Mr. Christopher. It was down to me and Vince.

  At home, I found Dad’s phone on the kitchen table. I wasn’t sure what that meant. I handed it to Vince. Maybe Dad had forgotten his phone? He certainly had enough on his mind. Still, if they had him, I wasn’t taking any chances.

  “I’m going to walk right up to the front door and I’m going to ask them to let me in,” I said.

  “Because that’s a surefire way to get killed.”

  “They don’t want to wipe me out. I bet Larissa wants to do something that’s going to make Mom and Dad more miserable. Like turn me into a vampire. You, William hates you.”

  I unlocked Dad’s special trunk and pulled out his crossbow and its silver quarrels. I know he wanted to take it to the hospital, but he couldn’t, so he was relying on more subtle means to protect Mom. Holding it made me feel like I was taking my family with me. Besides, I wanted to put on a good show. I closed the lid of the trunk and tried to get some of my confident groove back. “I’m going in. I’m rescuing Marty and anyone else who needs rescuing.”

  “Not alone,” Vince said.

  “Yes, alone. I’m expected, and I’m not in as much danger as you if I go in.”

  “If your theory is right, you think becoming a vampire isn’t much danger?”

  “It’s working for Ned, right?”

  Vince crossed his arms. “Not. Funny.”

  “Vince, we can be leveraged against one another. I have enough to worry about with Marty and whoever else is there. It’s not glamorous, but we do need the cavalry. Someone has to get Mr. Christopher the help he needs. We can’t abandon him. Start with your parents. Find my dad, if you can.” I hoped he was at the hospital. I zipped up the duffle I placed the crossbow and quarrels in.

  I could usually rely on Vince for common sense. However, he had a personal grudge against William. I sure didn’t want his grudge to become the basis upon which he made this decision.

  “I’ll do it,” he said. “If you get yourself turned into a vampire, I will kill you.”

  I laughed. “That’s what I asked you to do, remember?”

  Vince frowned. “Still not funny. Be careful, Abby. I’ll bring help as soon as I can.”

  And that’s how I came to be standing by myself in front of an upscale house in the Hills, knocking on one of those doors designed not to let you see in, and to make you feel like you should be using the kitchen entrance. It was late afternoon, the classic time vampire hunters usually go to the vampire’s lair, get knocked out and usually end up in peril because they wake up as the sun is going down. With these vampires, the daylight issue wasn’t as important as all that. Just making a point.

  I hitched my backpack up on one shoulder, the duffle containing the crossbow on the other. The door was opened by a sturdy housekeeper. She had to be the Renfield. “Hey,” I said. “I’m here for the slumber party.”

  “Oh,” said the housekeeper. “Please come this way. The other girls are in the rumpus room.” She turned on the landing and led the way down the stairs behind her, which headed into the basement. I followed.

  Also a classic movie scenario. Innocent victims who have no idea what’s going down could be used to leverage the heroic hunters. The girls wouldn’t think anything of it. Coral had been gone a week, but no doubt Larissa had created a good excuse for her, like illness, and the party went on. Nachos, soda, bad movies. What’s not to love?

  We entered a room in the basement. I didn’t see a rumpus, whatever that was. Someone had plugged in a phone and there were tunes. Girls chatted on the couch, eating popcorn. A couple more were playing ping pong. Marty and Coral were pouring soda into glasses at the bar.

  “Hi!”

  “Why are you here?” Coral asked. “I told you not to be here.”

  “William asked me to reconsider. What gives?” I asked Coral.

  “This is what slumber parties look like,” said Marty.

  Coral caught my meaning. “What you talked about in the music room? You were right.”

  I nodded. What kind of world was it where I knew more about what vampires could and couldn’t do than the vampires themselves?

  “Is this everyone?” I asked.

  “Everyone here for the party,” said Coral.

  “Okay,” I said. “What happens now?”

  “Probably truth or dare,” Coral said.

  Marty looked from me to Coral and back again. “Okay,” she said. “What’s going on with you guys? We’re supposed to have fun here. I don’t have a lot of experience with these kind of things, but I think that’s what we’re supposed to do.”

  Coral smiled, a ghost of her old self. “Sur
e, Marty. That’s right. Could you take some drinks over to the coffee table?”

  Marty picked up three tumblers of soda, which I thought showed waitstaff talent, and walked away. “These drinks aren’t doctored?”

  “No! No.”

  “Coral, I have to ask you a serious question. Is my dad here?”

  “Not that I know,” said Coral.

  That didn’t mean he was safe, but at least he wasn’t here. “I’m here to get the slumber party out. Anytime now, Ned is going to come for you, and that’s the time we go.”

  “About Ned,” said Coral. “It was easy for Larissa to take care of Ned. He’s injured. He shouldn’t have come back.”

  “So, no Ned?”

  “Just before you got here, William and Larissa went outside. William’s dealing with him now.”

  Our timing was lousy tonight. Okay. Plan B was me grandstanding for time until Vince arrived with help. Not ideal, but it was all I had.

  “We need to think of some way to get you and the slumber party to safety. I’ll find Ned and get him. He’s here somewhere, right?”

  “Well, yeah, but he’s a vampire. Why would you care?”

  “Ned is my friend. I don’t back out on him. Marty or Vince either. And you. I’m not backing out on you.” I slugged back a Coke, firming up that decision.

  Coral squeezed my arm. Marty grabbed some more drinks, and we waited for her to walk away. “Wait,” Coral whispered. “You hate me.”

  “I am not inclined to leave you here. You let me know about Mr. Christopher.”

  “Yeah, well, not like that did any good.”

  I didn’t say anything. She was probably right. “I need to get a look around.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Be as annoying as possible without getting turned into a vampire. For now, you need to make sure all these girls stay here.”

  “Where else would we go?” Marty asked. “Where are you going?”

  I tried to look dopey, but I probably looked like I was suffering from a rash. “I’m going to see William. You know…”