The bouncer’s demeanor shifted immediately. “Why didn’t you say so? Step right in, ladies. Up the stairs and to the right.” He unlatched the velvet rope and they shuffled inside clutching their bags like shields. The room was dark with plush chairs and pulsing lights. Three bikini-clad dancers gyrated on the stage as “Pour Some Sugar on Me” blared from the sound system. Veronica felt like she’d stepped back into the 80s.
Veronica placed an unsteady hand on Jenny’s back as they climbed the stairs. A bottle-blonde waitress with a tray of orange gelatin shots sidled up next to them when they reached the top of the stairs.
“Can I get you ladies a drink?”
“No, um, we’re here to meet JA. I think he’s in one of these rooms.” Veronica scanned the empty hallway, hoping JA was anxiously awaiting her arrival.
“Right this way,” the waitress wiggled to the third room on the right, knocked and opened the door. “I think this is who you’re looking for.”
Veronica braced herself for his shocked surprise upon seeing her. She hadn’t changed physically, but she had grown emotionally since they’d parted ways.
In the center of the small room was a lone stripper pole with a zebra striped couch encircling it. A small man in a navy tailored suit closed his laptop and leaned back with a grin.
“Oh, sorry. I think we’re in the wrong room.” Veronica stepped backwards.
He smirked at her discomfort. “Took you long enough.”
Veronica recognized the young voice. It was Seamus. She cautiously stepped back in, pulling Jenny along with her. “Where’s JA?”
“Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?”
“She doesn’t drink. And I don’t think they serve O positive here.” Veronica sat down on the couch, while Jenny ran her hand up and down the pole.
Seamus leaned over a large legal briefcase and pulled out a thermos. “Jenny, would you be a dear and fetch Ms. Bouchard a glass from the bar. It’s right back there.”
“Well, isn’t that convenient? Where’s JA?” Her tone darkened.
“Patience.” Seamus took the rocks glass from Jenny and carefully filled it with blood. He leaned across the couch, holding it out. “Have a drink, Ms. Bouchard. I prefer to speak with my clients over a meal. I find everyone is much more amenable when they’ve been fed.”
Veronica took the glass and sniffed. “Please call me Veronica. Where did you get this?”
“I have my ways.” He tightened the lid of the thermos and placed it carefully back into the case. “Don’t worry, dear. It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Jenny squeezed next to Veronica. “That is so fucking gross.”
Veronica took a sip from the warm, fresh beverage while eyeing the contours of the room. She felt as anxious and expectant as a child cranking a jack-in-the-box handle. “Will he be joining us?”
“I’m afraid he won’t.” He clasped his hands together. “Mary and Eddie, your first two tastes of my services, were free. If you would like my help going forward to locate Johnathan, there is a fee.”
“I already told you, I don’t have a pot to piss in right now, but as soon as this whole thing is over, I will pay you the five-hundred. That’s what it is, right? Five-hundred?”
“No, I’m afraid not.” He inspected his neatly manicured nails.
“What is it, then? Blood?”
Jenny nudged Veronica with her arm. “Don’t look at me.”
“It’s not cash or blood I’m after. I am in need of something only you can deliver. If you still want to locate your friend, that is.” He straightened his tie and stood. “I’m afraid he goes by a different name now, which will make locating him rather difficult for you.”
“What exactly do you want me to do? Join the CIA?”
“Oh, I see you’ve already spoken with Eddie. I don’t need you to necessarily join the CIA. I just need you to help us turn a few men that will be leaving for Afghanistan next week.”
Veronica stood. “Absolutely not. I’m on my way out of this, God willing. The last thing I need is more souls that I have to locate and apologize to, and if they’re all the way in the Middle East that makes it rather difficult to reach them.” She moved in his direction, towering almost a foot above him. “Why don’t you just do it yourself?”
“That’s an excellent question—and for the sake of brevity, my answer is that we like to keep the bloodlines diverse.”
“That’s bullshit. Come on, Jenny. I’m not stupid. I’ll find him on my own.”
Jenny rose from the couch and hefted her bag across her shoulder. “She’s menopausal, dude. I wouldn’t fuck with her.”
“Why make this more difficult than it has to be?” He walked to the bar and retrieved a glass for himself. “If you agree to work with me, you’re only committed for six months. At the end of that time, the young men will return from their mission, you do your thing, and mortality will be yours. I say the word and the illustrious JA with his eternal hair plugs and six pack abs will appear in twenty minutes.” Seamus smiled, unblinking. “All you have to do is agree.”
“Why me? Aren’t there thousands of us out there?”
“Twelve hundred and thirty-seven to be exact. Those that don’t reflect are more difficult to track and very few want to be mortal again. Most people would kill for eternal youth and, as you know, they do. You’re a special case.” He filled his glass and lifted it to his lips. “You’re close, aren’t you? Can you taste that medium rare steak with loaded baked potato yet?”
Veronica refused to let herself even picture it. “That wouldn’t be my meal of choice. And I still have one more person beyond JA.”
“You are close.” He pursed his lip and narrowed his eyes. “And who would that final person be?”
Veronica stared down at the thickening crimson beverage in her trembling hands. She shouldn’t tell him. If he knew, he could use it against her.
But finding Kevin wasn’t going to be the hard part. Making amends and meaning it, on the other hand…
Veronica glanced back up at the only man who had been any help at all on this mad quest and tried not to notice the cockiness in his stare. “Kevin Black. Detroit. 1977.”
Seamus favored her with one lifted eyebrow. “Oh, dear.” He sipped from his glass, then wiped his lips with a cloth napkin.
“What?” Veronica sat back down with a huff, clutching the crusted armrest of the couch. She pulled her hand away, setting it in her lap. “Well?”
“I don’t think you’d be able to get in the same room with him. He takes himself very seriously, if you know what I mean, and with reflection, he’d be vulnerable. He very much likes his life now.”
“Do you know where he is?” Veronica blurted.
“Of course.” His blue eyes sparkled as his lips parted with promise.
“Well?”
“Seriously, woman. Do you think I’m going to tell you?” He chuckled and picked up his giant phone. “Well? Do we have a deal?”
Veronica’s face remained immobile, but she could feel her fangs pushing against her gums. A deal was the last thing she wanted. If anything, she wanted to beat the shit out of the little twerp. She lifted the coagulating drink and guzzled it greedily. “I’ll do one for one. One for JA and one for Kevin.”
He clapped his hands together. “Perfect. But before you sign your name in blood on the dotted line, I want you to be aware of the risk involved. There is always the chance that one or both of these men may die. IEDs are everywhere, and I’m sure you can imagine the mess those make.”
Veronica couldn’t quite picture it, but the memory of vivisecting Desmond on the mortuary table was all too fresh. “What do you mean?”
“Well, if a man’s heart is blown from his body and burned, his soul will remain within you forever. There won’t be anything left of him to apologize to. These casualties are rare, but they do happen. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, I understand. Can’t I just pay
you? I could have my husband wire you the money.”
“You’re in a bit of trouble back in Texas, Veronica, and it wouldn’t be wise to drag him into this. The authorities have video of your spray tanned body killing the girl. It’s not just the hall footage. Every room had a camera. The owner sold those images on the black market. And let’s not forget about Bobby Lee Garrett. He deserved what you did to him, but I’m afraid the state of Texas frowns on vigilante justice.” Seamus licked his lips. “But here’s the good news. I can erase all of it for you. And if you want, you can return home and be in your cozy bed by Friday.”
“I need to think about it. Can you give me twenty-four hours?”
Anger flashed over Seamus’s weasel-like face—the first she’d seen from him. “Are you seriously going to make me stay in this god-awful city another night?”
But Veronica had bought real estate more than once in her long lifetime, and more than her share of used cars, and she knew how to hold fast in the face of a pushy salesman. “Yes. I’m afraid so. This is a big decision and I need to meditate on it.”
“Go.” He swooshed his arm through the air dismissively. “But I expect an answer by seven tomorrow night. You have my number.”
Veronica nodded. She couldn’t get out of the room and down the black-lit stairs fast enough. The air was thick with desperation, the kind that wanted to dominate and destroy everything in its path, and that didn’t include the men staring at the stage with bloodshot eyes and sweaty bills.
42
“I know it’s really none of your business, but what do you think I should do?” Veronica pulled the patterned coverlet up around her neck and flipped through the channels on the muted flat screen.
From the smoke-stained table beside the bathroom door, Jenny snorted. “Yeah, it actually is kind of my business, since my ass is keeping you fed. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t take the deal. Something tells me that that little douche needs you a lot more than you need him. If Eddie was right and there are a ton of you bloodsuckers out there, why would he pick you, out of all the people in the world, to turn these dudes?” She ripped open a bag of Doritos and chomped on one loudly as she talked. “You’re like a soccer mom. He needs someone violent and ruthless. Someone like that Betty chick.” She pointed a chip at Veronica as if she were about to make another insulting point.
“I can be ruthless too,” Veronica said defensively. “Maybe he only wants my blood to turn these men because I’ve got the hormonal craziness of a menopausal woman pulsing through my veins. My soldiers could call themselves the Hot Flashes and take out every person who even looks at them funny. If it were Betty, they’d just be called the Bitches, and no man wants that.”
“The Hot Flashes? Now that’s funny, but I think you’re more like a warm blanket, fresh out of the dryer.” She crunched another chip.
“That’s probably why he wants me. I’m passive and predictable and I’ve got the blood lust under control. Well, for the most part I do.” Not even she was convinced of this statement. It wasn’t about the quest for blood anymore. It was more about feeling powerful and in control, even in the most uncontrollable situations. Part of her would miss that.
“Yeah, well, he’ll have more control over you, and you might not get what you want. I don’t trust him. He’s got a Napoleon complex, but he thinks he’s all badass because he knows some things you don’t. We can find your ex on our own. It’s called Google.” Jenny flopped onto her own bed and clutched a pillow to her chest. “I still don’t get it. You really want to be mortal again?”
Veronica hadn’t given mortality much thought but maybe she should have. After all, even if she became mortal tomorrow, she would never be able to resume her life back in Texas. Even if Seamus made all the trouble disappear, she would have to start over again somewhere else. “You’re young. One day you’ll understand.”
“But once you become mortal, you’re going to start aging again and then the next thing you know, you’ll be dead.”
Veronica glared at her. “So will you and everyone you know. It’s called life, and aging is a part of that. I’m not particularly worried about getting older if it means this menopause shit will end. That’s the joke of it all. I’m stuck in this well-worn body, but I feel like I’m a hormonal teenager again. Forever. It’s horrifying.”
“Yeah, I hear what you’re saying. My forty-five-year old mother would kill to be frozen in time. Her face is halfway there. She can barely move her lips.”
“She should relax. Fifty is the new forty.” Veronica stopped clicking the remote and placed it on the nightstand.
“Don’t you think you’ll be bored when all this vampire glamour is over?”
Veronica laughed. “Glamour? There is nothing glamorous about living in a hyper-alert state for over one hundred years. I want to settle down somewhere and never have to move to another location or find a new job ever again. I also want ice cream, like every night after dinner.”
“You’re going to get fat if you do that.” Jenny glanced at the television. “What the hell are you watching?”
“Knight Rider. I haven’t seen this show since…” Veronica sat upright as if she’d seen a ghost.
“What?”
“Is there a phonebook in here?”
Jenny opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out the yellow pages. She tossed it carelessly on Veronica’s bed as if it were the dumbest, most cumbersome thing she’d ever seen. “Your phone can do that, you know.”
“I would prefer not to use this phone unless it is absolutely necessary.” She grabbed the book and thumbed through the pages. Excited, she stopped and scrambled to the side of the bed. She lifted the receiver and dialed the number for the first hospice listing. “Hi, my name is Veronica and I am looking for the nurse who was with my mother when she died. I was out of town at the time and I want to give him something. His name is Michael Knight.” She twirled her hair and waited as the woman checked to see if there was a nurse by that name. “Oh, well thank you for checking.” She clicked the phone back in its cradle.
She continued down the list of places until she found him. A nurse by the name of Michael Knight was working in a hospice facility outside of Lincoln. His shift started in two hours.
“I found him! I knew it was either going to be Michael Knight or Thomas Magnum.” Veronica squealed. “Get dressed, unless you want to stay here.”
“Who is Michael Knight? I thought we were looking for a guy named JA?”
“JA is Michael Knight, at least I think he is. God, he’s so freaking predictable. He did exactly what I always told him to do. Change his name, work in hospice and he’d be set for life. Except he was stupid to stay here in Nebraska. He’s too close to those who might know him.”
Jenny slid her jeans back on. “I want to go. That Seamus guy.” She bent over to lace up her Converse. “And what the fuck kind of name is Seamus, anyway? He gives me the creeps. I think we need to stay as far away from that douche as possible.”
Veronica bounded to her feet, firmly resolved at last. “If I’m right, we may never have to see him again.”
43
The Hospice House was exactly what it promised in its half-page color ad—“Quality end of life care in the comfort of our home.” It amazed Veronica how far removed people were from the site of death. Family members no longer died in their own homes, at least not by choice. The dying, depending on their expected expiration date, were shuttled off to a hospital, a nursing home or a hospice facility. Old age used to be revered; now it was simply an embarrassment for those in its clutches. How dare you grow old and feeble where I can see you?
“I can’t believe I was able to remember that stupid name. I am going to shit a brick if it’s him.” Veronica darted from the car, practically skipping through the darkened parking lot to the front door. Winded, she turned to Jenny. “Please don’t say anything, okay? I don’t want to scare him. If you think I’m a warm blanket, wait till you get a load of him. He’s a little on th
e sensitive side.”
Inside, a young woman in an official-looking blue blazer and a security badge snoozed at the reception desk. The empty lobby was tastefully decorated with overstuffed furniture, cozy blankets and the newest magazines. The only signs of life were the rainbow assortment of tropical fish in the aquarium. They swam and swayed, serving as the stress-reducing focal point of the room.
“Good security.” Veronica stopped at the desk, but as the woman let out a snore, she took it as a sign from her higher power. Maybe it would be better to surprise Michael Knight. The longer she lingered at the desk, the more her heart pounded. She had no idea how she would be received. She looked around the lobby and the two hallways that led in opposite directions. “He’s got to be lurking around here somewhere.” She waved Jenny to follow her to the right.
“Are people dying here? Like right now?” Jenny shivered, zipping up her red hoodie.
“I don’t know about right now, but this is where some people go to die. I work at a place like this in Fort Worth. It’s not quite as homey, more like a hospital.”
The dimly lit hallways were empty. There were no voices, only monitors and oxygen tanks beeping and hissing at each other. A few doors were ajar. As they passed each one, Veronica took a quick peek inside. Most rooms contained skinny old people wrestling with the siren song of long-forgotten voices calling them home. Occasionally she encountered a worried family member at the bed side. If they were awake, she apologized for intruding. At the third to the last door, a handsome orderly appeared in the door frame, writing notes on his clipboard.
He looked exactly the same as the day she turned him. In the year proceeding their very clinical ceremony, JA had worked hard to achieve a gym sculpted body, along with suffering through a painful surgical procedure to produce a full head of hair. His aim was permanent perfection, but he’d only managed to date himself in a stylistically undesirable decade.
Veronica dashed in his direction, as Jenny shuffled behind like a jumpy cat.
Forever 51 Page 23
