The address we’re heading to is off Bronson Avenue. The houses become bigger and grander the farther up the side of the hill we go. Finally, our turnoff takes us to Hollyridge Drive and then to Hollyridge Loop. When we pull up to a gate, my eyebrows jump.
“Just how much does this chick earn on her books?” I ask Chael.
“I believe her last contract was for seven million.”
“Seven million? I’ve never heard of her before.”
Chael cocks an eyebrow. “How many vampire books do you read?”
He has me there. I shrug. “We’re in the wrong business. Think of the book we could write.”
The driver pulls up to the speaker and Chael gets out and announces our presence. A buzzer sounds and the black wrought iron gates swing open. The only thing missing is a trumpet fanfare.
Janet Carlysle’s home is a typical 1920’s Mediterranean red-tiled roofed mansion set back from the road by a winding, tree-lined driveway. The chauffeur stops at the top of a circular driveway and Chael and I climb out. Everywhere we look, flowering shrubs and leafy bushes crowd the house. She must have a hell of a watering bill in drought-prone Southern California.
Chael precedes me up broad stone steps to a front door set under an archway of brilliant red Mandeville Vines. We ring a bell that chimes with a harmonious melody that echoes through the house. I look over my shoulder while we wait and admire the view. From this distance, the City of Angels nearly looks like it. I imagine the view at night is spectacular.
The door opens. I turn around.
I expect a maid or butler. Instead, the author greets us with a wide, welcoming smile. She would. She’s expecting a reporter. When she sees us, the smile loses its brilliance.
As if she recognizes what we are or who.
She recovers. Bids us in with a sweep of an arm.
We follow her through a bright foyer into a living room. Vaulted ceilings and floor to ceiling windows reflect sunlight onto white overstuffed furniture and polished dark wood floors. It’s professionally decorated. I know because there’s nothing personal in the room. Even the granite bowl set in the exact center of a low coffee table and the fringed throws placed strategically over the arms of the chairs and sofa are like props on a movie set. Janet Carlysle might be rich now but she wasn’t always so. She’s turned her home into something copied from Architectural Digest instead of a reflection of her personality.
Janet is the only piece out of place on this chessboard. She asks us to sit down and when Chael and I take our places on either end of the sofa, she pushes an ottoman over so that she is right in front of us. She’s dressed in loose fitting Target jeans and a San Diego Padres sweatshirt. Her auburn hair is piled on top of her head, not in the casual, arty way so popular nowadays, but knotted in a lopsided bun and secured with a chopstick. No make-up, not even lipstick, relieves the pale wash of her complexion or plays up her one exceptional feature—eyes the color of spring grass.
If she was expecting an interview, she obviously didn’t go out of her way to dress for it.
Maybe you don’t need to when you’ve just sold a book for seven million dollars.
While we’re getting ourselves settled, I feel her eyes on me. She hasn’t said a word.
Finally, she says, “Wow. I got your description right, didn’t I?”
Chapter Five
Hunch confirmed.
“Have we met?” I ask.
“No.”
No? That’s it?
Chael glares at her. “You know who we are?”
She’s not looking at Chael. Her eyes are on me. “I know who she is. You must be her friend. Maybe her bodyguard. You don’t look very intimidating.”
I have to swallow a laugh. She’s pretty gutsy for a mere mortal in the presence of two vampires.
Chael doesn’t think it so funny. “Not merely her bodyguard or her friend,” he sputters. “I am the head of—”
I stop him with a hand on his arm. No use giving her more information, I tell him.
He backs down with a glare.
I turn and ask, “Who do you think I am?”
Janet crosses her arms and hugs her chest. “Why are you asking me? You’ve read my book or you wouldn’t be here. I know who, and more importantly, what you are. You’re a vampire.”
She says it without a bit of trepidation or equivocation. I find myself staring. I could deny it, argue she must be crazy to suggest such a thing, but her absolute faith in her words is obvious.
“Where did you get that idea?” I ask.
“I did my homework,” she replies. “It took me a long time to find a real vampire who was willing to talk with me. He gave me just enough information to point me to you, Anna, before…”
“Who is this so-called vampire?” Chael asks sharply.
Janet shakes her head. “I won't reveal his name.”
Chael shifts beside me, irritation sparking off him like flames. We could make her tell us. We’re alone with her. We could get the name of the traitor and end this now.
I put my hand on his arm again. Relax. No violence, remember?
I turn back to Janet, she’s watching us with wide eyes. “You can communicate telepathically? That’s so cool!”
I sniff. You wouldn’t think it so cool if you knew what Chael was thinking. “Let’s assume you’re right. And we’re vampires. Why aren’t you afraid?”
“Why should I be?” she counters. “I mean no harm. I know you don’t want to be exposed. I only wrote to get your attention.”
“And this non-fiction book you’ve proposed?”
She waves a hand. “Insurance. I figured if I made it known I was planning to expose vampires as real, it would bring you to me. And it did.”
Irritation at her attitude was beginning to make Chael’s take on this situation more palatable. She acts like this is the most mundane of conversations. Maybe shaking a little sense into her would do some good.
“Janet, I’m confused,” I say. “You believe we are vampires, and yet, you aren’t the least bit afraid. You're either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. My friend here thinks we should kill you and be done with it. That would effectively eliminate your threat to expose us if we were vampires.”
Janet shrugs. “Sure. You could kill me. But you can’t really believe I didn’t take precautions after I was attacked.” She peers at me. “Were you behind that?”
I shake my head, not letting on that the vampire behind it is sitting beside me on her couch.
“No matter.” She waves a hand. “Everything I’ve learned is in a safe place. In the event of my death or disappearance, it will become public. Including, I should warn you, the security footage of you entering the driveway today. Coupled with the information I put in my book, that should be enough to let the world know just who you are.”
“Your book also makes you look like a nut case,” I remind her. “You really think anyone will take you seriously?”
We could still make her disappear, Chael says. Along with the security footage. With the proper groundwork, it could look like she went on a research trip. A few emails from her phone to her agent or publisher and it could be weeks, even months before anyone gets suspicious.
For the first time, uncertainty flashes on Janet’s face. She’s suspicious of our ability to communicate telepathically—that obviously surprised her. Maybe her informant wasn’t as forthcoming as she thought.
I let another moment pass to deepen her misgivings. I stand. “We’re going now. Take time to consider how far you want to push this. You aren’t in too deep yet. You should be aware, though, that there are others out there who aren’t as reasonable as I am.”
Chael rises, too. “Stick to fiction, Miss Carlysle. It’s safer.”
Janet jumps to her feet. “Wait. Don’t you want to know why I’m doing this?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I snarl.
It’s the first time I’ve shown hostility and she cowers.
Chael, though, sm
iles and leans toward her. “I’d like to know,” he says. “What is it you want?”
Janet holds out her wrist “It’s simple. I want you to make me like you are. I want to be a vampire.”
I could imagine her saying…money, power, access to the vampire community, maybe even to become a host.
Actually wanting to become a vampire was not one of them.
Not in the top twenty.
I stare at her, mind reeling.
Chael's face flashes, eyes yellow, teeth bared. “Let me do it, Anna,” he growls.
The ferocity of his remark snaps me to reality. I know only too well what Chael is thinking. He’s not hiding it from me. He’ll drain her, not with the intention of bringing her back, but of killing her.
Stop it, Chael. I won’t let you kill her.
It’s what she wants, he insists. She’s asking for it.
She’s asking to be made like us, I correct him. Not to be drained and left to die.
Janet is watching Chael but showing no fear, not even at seeing Chael’s vampire face. She looks hopeful, optimistic.
“I don’t know what to say,” I tell her. “You know we're vampires but look at Chael. That is the true face of the vampire. Why would you want to be turned into something like that?” Chael stiffens beside me, No insult intended. You know what I’m doing.
He grunts.
Janet smiles. “Are you kidding? Who wouldn’t want immortality? A perfect body? Eternal beauty? The chance to be accepted into the most exclusive club in the world?”
“Club?” I echo, aghast. “You think being a vampire is like membership in a country club? I thought you were crazy. Now I know you are.”
“Come on, Anna,” Janet returns my sneer with a scathing glare of her own. “You're telling me you haven’t found perfect freedom being a vampire? You have a private jet, a mansion in La Jolla, which sits vacant, by the way, so I know there’s a story there.” She glances at Chael. “And interesting friends, like this one.”
“So this is about material things?”
Janet sniffs derisively. “Look around. I already have more money than I can spend in one lifetime.”
“Then what?”
“Does it matter? Isn’t it fun to be able to communicate mentally? Read each other’s thoughts.” She glances at Chael. “Must be a terrific advantage in bed.”
I give her the old fish eye. “Chael and I are not lovers,” I say archly. “Far from it. There’s more to consider than the fun you can have in bed. You need human blood to survive. Have you thought about that? Not goat’s blood or pig’s blood. Human blood, right from the source.”
“Oh, I know that.” She waves my concern aside like an irritating insect. “You go to Beso de la Muerte to feed on humans who are paid to be hosts. They enjoy it, too. So no need to try to scare me into thinking I’d be turned into a killing machine. I know better.”
Chael is shaking his head. “This has gone far enough. Who is your source?” he roars.
Janet jumps. “I told you. I won’t say.”
“Why didn’t you ask him to turn you?” Chael snaps. “Why come to us?”
“I couldn’t,” she says simply.
“And why is that?”
Janet lowers her eyes.
I’m just as curious as Chael about Janet’s vampire source. “Chael asked a legitimate question. Why couldn’t you ask your vampire friend to turn you?”
No answer.
“Janet, I’m getting impatient. Answer the question or we’re out.”
“I planned to ask him,” she says finally, “but he died.”
“Died!” Chael exclaims. “What do you mean he died?”
It’s obvious Janet doesn’t want to say anymore. I lean forward. “Tell us.” It’s not a request.
She sighs. “He was supposed to meet me one night in Griffith Park. Truth be told, I did intend to ask him. When I arrived at the park, he was waiting for me. We started to walk and —” Her voice drops. She swallows hard and continues. “I don’t know how it happened. One moment we were talking, the next, he collapsed with a stake in his chest. All I felt was a cold draft, like a gust of frigid air blowing past. I watched as he…dissolved.”
I’m speechless. Not only have I used all the reasons I can think of to dissuade her, but she actually saw the death of a vampire and she’s still looking at me like a kid asking for a puppy.
I switch my gaze to Chael. Someone must have found out what she was doing. Any ideas who?
Not a clue, he answers. I’ll put some people on it.
I know he means vampires. I nod and turn back to Janet, pulling out the last arrow in my quiver. “Have you thought about your family? Do you realize how it is when everyone you love is dying around you and you’re left alone? Vampires cannot form attachments to humans because they’re forced to watch as they wither and die. Your parents, your siblings, your lovers—”
“I repeat,” Janet snaps. “Look around. Do you see pictures of family? Of lovers? I've been alone in the world ever since I was a teenager. I don’t care about anyone but myself. I’d make the perfect vampire. No attachments, human or otherwise.”
Are you ready to give up? Chael asks. Can I kill her now?
Chapter Six
My cell phone buzzes. I grab it out of my jacket pocket, see it’s David and put it to my ear. Anything to distract from the ridiculous scenario unfolding in front of me.
“Anna? Where the hell are you?”
As soon as he asks, I remember. We have a meeting with our bondsman. “Shit.” I glance at my watch. Four forty-five. “I’m in LA.”
“LA? What are you doing there?”
I release an exasperated breath. “Long story. Can you stall Duke?” I look over at Chael and ask, How long will it take us to get back?
If we leave right now, at least an hour just to get to the airport.
Great. “David, I won’t be back before six-thirty at the earliest. You go ahead. You can fill me in later. He probably wants to talk about a job, right?”
There’s a moment of dead air. David says, “I’m not sure. I think he would have told me over the phone if it was. He said it was important so I’ll go. Come to the condo when you get back—”
“Will Gloria be there?”
David groans and I can see him rolling his eyes. “Are you ever going to get over it?”
He means, am I ever going to get over how much I dislike his girlfriend. It’s doubtful. We have history, but David loves her and he is my partner. “It’s better that she and I avoid each other. I’ll call you tonight when I get back.”
“Okay. You are coming back tonight, right?” David hesitates a moment, then asks, “You still with Chael?”
“Yes to both.” When I look up, both Chael and Janet are staring at me, obviously having followed my end of the conversation. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Why do you still have a day job?” Janet asks after I’ve slipped my phone back in my jacket.
“A very good question,” Chael says.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I counter. “I like what I do. I like getting bad guys off the street.”
“Isn’t it alleged bad guys?” Janet says.
“Look.” I glare at her. “We’re not here to discuss my life. We’re here to discuss this ridiculous notion to make you a vampire. It’s not going to happen. My suggestion is that you stick to fiction. If you want to write vampire novels, be my guest, but stop using me for your inspiration. I’ve been patient today. If I have to come back, it won’t be such a friendly visit.”
Janet squares her shoulders. “That’s it? You don’t care that I can expose you and your friends?”
I take a step closer and lean into her. “Do you really think the vampire community is going to allow you to shine a spotlight on us? You saw what happened to your contact. You should be smart enough to know that was a warning to you, too.”
Her expression hardens. “You aren’t scaring me,” she says. “I’m not bluffing. I’ll wr
ite the book. And I’ll go on every talk show I can, and I’ll name you and your friends in Beso de la Muerte. A lot of people may think I’m crazy, but not everyone will. Some sharp investigative reporter will start dogging you and sooner or later, you’ll do something to give yourself away. You won’t be able to help it. And then—”
Chael snaps back into vampire mode. With a growl, he grabs Janet around the neck. She has to go, Anna. You know it’s true.
He lifts Janet off her feet and shakes her.
I expect Janet to scream, tear at Chael’s hands, or beg him to let her go.
She doesn’t. Her eyes are not on Chael. They’re on me. As if she knows I won’t let him go too far. She hangs limp, waiting, letting herself be shaken like a rag doll.
Part of me wants to let him finish it. I don't know how else to handle the situation, but the human part of me knows I can’t let him do it. I’ve only been able to adjust to being a vampire by knowing I’m capable of retaining my humanity.
I place a hand on Chael’s arm. He glances at me, then slowly lowers Janet until her feet touch the floor. When he releases her, she crumples into a heap, drawing deep, noisy drafts of air that morph into a coughing fit until she catches her breath. There’s no fear in her eyes. Still no fear.
I kneel down so our faces are level. “You have to let this go, Janet. You’ve stumbled on something dangerous. I won’t be able to protect you if you persist.”
Janet has both hands at her neck, rubbing the bruises darkening her skin. Her head is down, her shoulders slumped. Did I finally get through to her?
She’s silent for several minutes—whether because Chael’s shaking has rendered her physically unable to speak or because she’s trying to find the words to concede defeat. I can’t tell.
I hope it’s the latter.
When she lifts her head, I see the answer in her eyes. She straightens her shoulders, tugs at her clothes. The glare she directs at me is still defiant. “You’ll have to kill me,” she says.
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