Blue Twilight

by Jessica Speart

  “Sure. What kid doesn’t?”

  “Any shows in particular?”

  Eric stopped and thought about that for a moment.

  “You know, she watches things like Smallville, Friends, and The Gilmore Girls. Oh, and she’s a really big fan of the show Buffy.”

  So far, Lily sounded like any other young girl. Eric then listed the things she didn’t like, such as gym class, the beach, and going to museums. I continued to listen as every facet of her life was exposed and scrutinized, wondering how my own would hold up under such close examination.

  “Does Lily have many friends?” Jake continued to question.

  “She tends to be a loner. But then, Lily never quite fit in with the other girls. Her scars always made her feel different.”

  “What sorts of things did she take with her when she left?”

  “Let’s see. Some jeans and shirts, along with her favorite pair of sneakers. Oh yeah, and her Buffy collection.”

  “What’s a Buffy collection?” I asked.

  “You know, DVDs of the entire series. What can I say? Teenage girls seem to be into looking hot while pretending to kick demons’ asses these day.”

  Made sense to me. Who said it was only teenage girls that were into such things?

  “Now fill me in on her boyfriend,” Santou instructed.

  “Don’t get me started,” Eric snapped. “What kind of nineteen-year-old goes after a girl who’s only fifteen? I’ll tell you. A guy that wants someone he can easily manipulate. Obviously he’s intimidated by girls his own age. For the life of me, I don’t understand what she sees in the creep. It’s not as if Randy is all that good-looking. I mean, he’s got this horrid pasty white complexion because he refuses to go out in the sun.”

  “Maybe he has allergies and needs to take care of his skin,” Terri suggested.

  “Oh please! Allergies my ass. The kid likes to pretend that he’s some sort of freakin’ vampire.”

  Terri’s hands flew up in the air like a pair of doves that had been released. “That’s it! Buffy. Vampires. Now it’s all beginning to make sense.”

  We turned and stared at him, having absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

  “Don’t you see? If Lily’s hanging around with this guy, then where we should be looking is in a vampire’s den.”

  We continued to gape at him in disbelief.

  “What? I watch Buffy. I know what it is I’m talking about,” Terri said, with an indignant sniff.

  “Okay then. Explain to me exactly what a vampire’s den is,” Santou responded.

  “All right, so it’s not an actual den, but a nightspot that caters to the vampire scene. Remember when I went to SOMA the other night, to look for a job at one of the transvestite clubs?”

  I knew of SOMA as the industrial neighborhood south of Market Street. It had become a trendy new hot spot, attracting musicians, artists, and filmmakers to live and work in its warehouse lofts. The result was that chichi clubs and restaurants had begun to spring up.

  “Anyway, I passed by this club, Poison, and took a peek inside. We’re talking a heavy-duty vampire scene. It was enough to have given Dracula a serious hard-on.”

  “Then let’s go there right now and check it out,” Eric eagerly said, beginning to get up from the couch.

  But Terri took hold of his arm. “It’s only nine o’clock, sugar. The place doesn’t start rolling till midnight. You don’t want to go too early and take the chance of scaring Lily away, do you?”

  “No. Of course not,” Eric reluctantly acquiesced.

  “Then why don’t we go upstairs and watch some TV to pass the time?” Terri suggested.

  “Just make sure you stop by here on your way to the club, because Rachel and I are coming along,” Santou called out as the two headed for the door.

  “You’re on,” Terri replied, flashing an okay sign with his hand.

  I couldn’t have been more pleased if Jake had said we were hopping a plane to Paris. But I also didn’t want to act too surprised. Instead, I took it in stride.

  “Great. So, would you like me to make some tea while we wait?” I knew Jake hated my coffee, considering the primo brew that was available in the local cafés.

  “Sounds good. After that, why don’t you give me a run-down on what you’ve been up to for the past few days.”

  “I’m sure I’ve already told you. Nothing terribly exciting. Just some work with butterflies, is all,” I responded, not wanting to jinx things by revealing too much at this point. Not that there was all that much to reveal. “It’s certainly not like the big cases that I worked in the past.”

  “I hate to say it, chère, but you’ve got a bad attitude.”

  “What do you mean?” I shot back, instantly on the defensive.

  “For chrissakes, listen to yourself. You’re being negative just because you’re not dealing with a grizzly or some other carnivorous man-eater. It’s clear that you don’t put much stock in the value of bugs.”

  “That’s not true,” I responded, unwilling to admit that Jake was correct.

  “Let me give you a little biology lesson, chère. Butterflies are the most important pollinator of crops right after bees. In fact, you could say they’re a bellwether for what’s happening on this earth. Try thinking of them as the above-ground equivalent of canaries in the mineshaft. The amazing thing is people see them as just these pretty little things. But butterflies have one hell of a tough life. For instance, did you know that only one one thousandth of their eggs survive?”

  I shook my head in surprise, having never heard Santou speak like this before.

  “In a sense, they’re rather like a Greek tragedy. Butterflies have this short, brilliant flight, only to die, as their wings become torn and tattered. I’ll bet you also didn’t know that the Greek word for them is psyche, the same as the word for ‘soul.’”

  I looked at Santou in astonishment. My God. The man sounded like a poet. “Where did you learn all this?”

  “Oh, there are lots of things I know that would surprise you,” he joked.

  I decided to reveal a bit of what I was working on, since Jake seemed to care so much about butterflies.

  “Remember I told you that a consultant for Fish and Wildlife has been missing ever since he went up to Mendocino? Well, I discovered more about the butterfly that he was sent to find. It’s a species called the Lotis blue.”

  “Sure. I’ve heard of it.”

  I shot Jake a skeptical glance, certain he had to be putting me on.

  Santou chuckled, seeming amused by my reaction. “I used to catch bugs as a kid, chère. Or didn’t you know little boys did that sort of thing?”

  “Very funny,” I retorted.

  “I had a pretty good butterfly collection at one time. Even back then, getting hold of a Lotis blue was tantamount to finding the Holy Grail, particularly for a museum. Come to think of it, I can name two museums here in the States that boasted specimens, only to have them mysteriously disappear. That’s how desirable that particular butterfly has always been. From what I hear, there are only a handful of Lotis blue specimens in the entire world, probably making it the ultimate butterfly to possess.”

  “Who’d be most interested in getting hold of one? A museum, or a private individual?”

  “Both, I would imagine. There are some pretty hard-core collectors out there. I remember reading somewhere that one in ten Japanese men is a serious butterfly hunter. Maybe that’s an angle to consider while investigating the disappearance of that consultant. You’re absolutely certain he was searching for the Lotis blue?”

  “Yes. Fish and Wildlife is on the verge of declaring it extinct.”

  “Okay then, stop and think. How much would an extinct butterfly be worth to an avid collector? You’d know better than most people. It’s possible your consultant stumbled across something that he wasn’t supposed to find.”

  I wondered. Trepler had said he’d kill anyone that ever tried to take his specimen. The
question was, would he be willing to commit murder to get another?

  “So what do you think now, chère? Do smaller species deserve just as much protection as those that are larger?”

  “When you’re right, you’re right,” I admitted and gave him a kiss.

  Santou never ceased to amaze me. But there were other matters that I had to focus on at the moment. I poured the tea and took my cup into the bedroom, wondering, What does one wear to a vampire club, anyway?

  I nixed a blue skirt as too fancy, a gray sweater as too drab, and a red blouse as just plain asking for trouble. For all I knew, it was the equivalent of waving a red flag at a bull. Except in this case it probably meant “Come closer. I want you to suck my blood.”

  I finally settled upon what usually seemed right for just about any occasion: a basic little black dress.

  Santou outdid me by pulling a purple silk shirt out of the closet. I watched as he slipped it over his chest, his arms gliding through the billowy sleeves, as the collar fell gently around his neck. Then he stepped into a pair of black pants that always fit him just right.

  It’s funny how quickly we learn to take those that we love for granted, certain we know all of their whims and quirks. However, this was a man that I hadn’t seen before. The outfit emphasized Santou’s brooding nature, turning him into part poet, part pirate, part seducer. Terrific. I’d probably have to beat off every vampiress in the club with a stick.

  “Ready, chère?” Jake asked, his smile indicating that he was pleased by my reaction.

  “Uh-huh. I’m just not letting you out of my sight tonight.”

  “That’s the idea,” he said, teasingly running his fingers over my breasts.

  Terri and Eric knocked on our door at the stroke of midnight. I opened it to find Gomez and Morticia Addams standing there.

  Terri was a knockout, garbed in a formfitting full-length burgundy satin dress that would have given Marilyn Monroe a run for her money. He’d accessorized with a long black wig, a rhinestone necklace shaped like a spider, and enough white makeup to have been voted Queen of the Ghouls.

  Eric looked equally stylish in a black shirt and suit topped off with a Zorro style cape.

  “What did the two of you do? Rob a costume warehouse?” I asked with a twinge of envy.

  “It wasn’t necessary. We just raided Terri’s closet,” Eric dryly responded.

  Now I knew why Terri had lugged four enormous suitcases to San Francisco with him.

  “It appears that we’re all dressed to kill, and ready to paint the town red. So let’s go mingle with the creatures of the night,” Terri dramatically exclaimed, as we headed out for the club.

  Grungy and dirty by day, SOMA resembled nothing less than a carnival at night, its barren industrial architecture fading into the background. I barely noticed the lot filled with Ryder vans, the elevated rail of the BART train, or the noise coming from the adjacent freeway. Instead, I focused on all the neon signs, along with the array of stretch limos and glamorous models.

  “Over here,” Terri directed, steering us away from the bright lights toward an ominous-looking alley.

  We approached a plain metal door where the word POISON was written in letters that appeared to be dripping with blood.

  “Nice touch,” Santou wryly noted.

  The door opened onto a hallway where gargoyles leered at us from their perches on the wall. One seemed to come alive, only to transform into a gatekeeper materializing from out of the darkness. He waved Eric and Terri inside, while using his body as a barricade to prevent Santou and I from following.

  “Sorry, but this is a private party. No mundanes allowed.”

  “Would you mind interpreting that for me?” I asked Terri, who hovered nearby.

  “He means no non-fabulous night people, though I’d rate you two as pretty glamorous, myself.”

  Santou stepped back and gave me the once-over. “Terri’s right, chère. You look terrific.”

  “Thank you. And you’re hot, hot, hot as well,” I replied with a mischievous grin.

  “That settles it. We’re in,” Santou announced, and flashed his FBI badge.

  Open sesame!

  Our burly gatekeeper stepped back and allowed us to pass.

  We followed the hall to where a set of steps led down into a subterranean room. The lights were dim, giving the place a Night of the Living Dead effect that perfectly set the mood. Though it was nowhere near Halloween, one would have been hard-pressed to think otherwise, what with all the vampires, ghouls, and witches roaming about. The place was creepy yet sensually hypnotic at the same time, complete with the drone of Goth music thumping away in the background.

  “Every night must be a full moon in this place,” I commented, looking around.

  “No wonder I’m feeling so frisky. I’ll go get us some drinks,” Terri said, and headed for the bar.

  As for Santou, his eyes were glued to a cocktail waitress dressed in a black bustier, black bikini panties, black garter belt, black fishnet stockings and heels. I particularly liked the black bat that was tattooed on her belly. She turned, as though aware that Jake’s eyes were upon her, and seductively sauntered over.

  “I’d be happy to get whatever you’d like. By the way, I love your shirt,” she said, sliding a tapered black fingernail enticingly down his chest.

  “Isn’t the fabric wonderful? But let me tell you, it was hell washing out the blood stains from the last woman who touched him like that,” I warned with a sweet-as-angel-cake smile.

  She curled her painted black lips, exposing a set of fangs, and then swiveled on her black stiletto heels and left.

  “That wasn’t very nice. Weren’t you being just a bit territorial?” Jake asked, wafting between surprise and amusement.

  “Damn straight,” I replied.

  A man with devil horns attached to his forehead strolled by and turned to leer at me. Contact lenses made his eyes appear deep demon red, as though he’d been feasting on blood and was now filled to the brim. Speaking of which, Terri reappeared carrying three goblets in hand. Santou and I immediately released him of his burden.

  “Mmm. Dee-lish,” he declared, taking a sip of the dark red liquid.

  “What is it?” I asked, hoping Terri hadn’t made a pact with the devil to remain eternally young.

  “It’s called a Blood Bath. I think it’s three parts red wine, one part Chambord liqueur, and a splash of cranberry juice, with a maraschino cherry on top. The bartender says it’s the cocktail of choice among vampires in the know. It’s supposed to symbolize the blood coursing through our veins.”

  I took a taste. Not bad.

  Santou promptly downed his drink and then proceeded to polish off mine.

  “Where’s Eric?” Terri asked after a while.

  I’d been so busy taking in the scene that I hadn’t kept an eye on him.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted, and started looking around.

  “Maybe he found Lily,” Terri hopefully suggested.

  “I don’t think so. But there’s definitely trouble brewing ahead,” Santou said, gesturing toward the bar.

  All I saw was a hot, young thing wearing a skimpy red corset.

  “There’s going to be trouble, all right, if you go anywhere near her,” I advised.

  “No, not there. Over there.”

  I followed where Jake’s finger pointed. Eric was heatedly pushing his way through the crowd, his target a waiter who looked as though all the blood had been drained out of him.

  “Oh, shit. I bet that’s the boyfriend,” Jake said, and quickly began to make his way toward them.

  I followed close behind.

  Eric lunged as the waiter turned to run, dropping his tray of drinks on the floor. The liquid oozed across the tiles, causing people to slip and slide, so that I had to bob and weave my way around them.

  We reached the pair just as Eric’s hands clamped onto Randy Edgers’s throat.

  “Where’s Lily?” he angrily demanded, thr
ottling the sun-challenged waiter.

  “Hey, man. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. But for chrissakes, you’re killing me!” he wailed.

  It took us both to pry him off Edgers.

  “You’re right. I will kill you if you don’t tell me where my daughter is, right now,” Eric growled.

  “You’re out of your gourd. I already said I don’t know. Lily didn’t come to San Francisco with me.” Randy gestured toward Santou and myself. “But this couple overheard enough to testify that you threatened my life, and I damn well intend to press charges. I hope you enjoy spending time in jail with the rest of the fags.”

  “Did someone make a threat? Because I didn’t hear anything. How about you, chère?” Santou asked, turning to me.

  “Not a word. Why? Did something happen?” I blithely responded.

  “Oh, I get it. The three of you are in cahoots, right?” Randy spat, dislodging a loose fang.

  “It’s better than that. I’m an FBI agent and I don’t like guys who run away with underage girls. So if I were you, I’d spill everything you know. That is, unless you’d prefer I take you into headquarters for questioning.”

  Randy’s complexion turned from ghostly pale to a ghastly shade of white.

  “I don’t believe you,” he replied, doing his best to present a brave front.

  It was the quiver in his voice that gave him away.

  Jake pulled out his badge and shoved it in the kid’s face.

  “Believe me now?”

  Randy Edgers silently nodded.

  “All right. Then let’s start again. Did Lily come to San Francisco with you?”

  “Yeah, okay. She did. So what?”

  “Why, you son of a bitch,” Eric growled, and moved in to grab Edgers again.

  This time Terri held him back. “Eric, let him talk. All that matters right now is that we find Lily.”

  “Hear that? This is your chance to make good, Randy. Tell us where she is, and you won’t be charged with kidnapping,” Santou bluffed, hoping Edgers would fall for his line.

  “Kidnapping? Who are you kidding? She came with me of her own free will. Lily didn’t feel like hanging around for some lousy custody hearing. Why should she, when I was offering her something a whole lot better?”