By this time, Frank and Larry had come downstairs and were surveying the wreckage of their store with flashlights. Nikki caught only fleeting glimpses, but it didn’t look pretty.
“Damn, mama, you couldn’t o’ got here an hour ago?” Larry asked. From what Nikki could see, he was a young man with a small Afro and a thin mustache.
“Shut up, boy—what’d I tell you about bein’ fresh?” Frank snapped, then looked at Nikki with wide brown eyes that looked out from thick white eyebrows and a balding head. “I apologize for my son, miss.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Larry said.
“That’s all right,” Nikki said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “I wish I coulda done more.”
Larry snorted. “Doin’ more than the fuzz.”
Frank was shaking his head. “Look at this place. It wasn’t much, but right now Armstrong and Son looks more like Sanford and Son.”
“We got insurance,” Larry said.
Nikki sighed. “Gonna be a lotta claims after tonight—there’s lootin’ all over.”
Shining the flashlight back into Nikki’s face, Frank said, “Then you’d best be goin’, miss. We’ll be all right.”
“No.” Nikki stood up straight. “I ain’t lettin’ nobody else take you two down. The community—”
“Is on fire. Look, I don’t know who you really are, miss—I mean, I heard stories, but I never much believed ’em till tonight—but if you’re as tough as I think you are, then the whole city needs you. We’re just one store. We’ll be all right.”
“Soon’s I’m gone,” Nikki said, “those fools’ll be back. Specially that turkey whose switchblade I broke. You got to let me—”
“If they come back, we’ll deal with it. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew that some other store got it worse—or somebody up and died—’cause we were monopolizing the Slayer.”
“Damn, Dad, if she wants to stay—,” Larry started.
“Shut up, boy,” Frank said. “Go take inventory, see if anything’s still in one piece.”
Mumbling to himself, Larry wandered off.
Nikki said, “Mr. Armstrong, this whole night is bad news, and I—”
“Then get yourself out there, miss. Go where you’re needed. Here was just the beginning.”
Sighing, Nikki thought, Actually, it’s the middle. “All right, Mr. Armstrong, if you’re sure. Just one thing—you got a phone?”
* * *
Leroy Hawkins stood at the window of the third floor of Reet’s building. He’d long since tuned out Drusilla. Next to him, Curtis was looking over at her, puffing on a cigarette. That cigarette was the only illumination in the room; Reet wanted to keep it dark in the room the prisoner was in, so no candles or flashlights.
“This is messed up,” Leroy said, shaking his head.
“What is?” Curtis asked.
Pointing out the window, Leroy said, “This. We should be out there, man! The live bait is ripe for the pickin’. Instead, we sittin’ in here babysittin’ a crazy girl. It ain’t right.”
“It ain’t right, but it is Reet, you dig, brother?”
Leroy shook his head. “Yeah, I dig.” He looked back out the window. “You think that Spike honky’ll come back?”
As Curtis pulled out another cigarette, Leroy said, “Hey, gimme one o’ them.”
Curtis took out his Zippo and a second cigarette. While he was lighting Leroy’s, Drusilla started talking louder. “Fire brings light to the darkness. Fire opens the door. Fire takes it all down.”
Curtis fixed Drusilla with a look, but Leroy just shrugged as he dragged on his cigarette. “Ain’t nothing—s’what we get for lightin’ up in front of her. Oughtta be takin’ her to Bellevue, man.”
Laughing, Curtis said, “Yeah, they got a bloodsucker ward down there?”
Leroy laughed with him. “Back at Schwarz, this bitch tells me I’m gonna go all to pieces over some blond chick. Can you believe that, man? I ain’t never fallin’ for no honky bitch.”
“Maybe that ain’t what she meant,” Curtis said. “Maybe when she said all to pieces, she meant you’d be dusted by a blond chick.”
“That is whacked, brother. Only chick who’d be icin’ me is the Slayer, and she ain’t no blond, you dig?” Then he caught something out of the corner of his eye. “Wuzzat?”
“What?” Curtis asked, and then joined him at the window.
At first Leroy didn’t think it was anything—just another car on fire. With everything going down, that was the least of their problems. Long as it wasn’t Leroy’s Lincoln, it was cool.
Then he realized that something was wrong. “Curtis—is that car movin’?”
Curtis peered out the window. “What the hell—?”
With all the flames and stuff, Leroy wasn’t sure what the make was, but the car was definitely on fire, and definitely moving down Lenox.
“That’s some crazy—” Leroy cut himself off when the car turned—and started heading straight for the front door.
Before Leroy could say anything, the floor rocked, sending him crashing to the floor so hard he almost swallowed his cigarette.
“What the hell was that?” Curtis asked as he clambered to his feet.
Drusilla spoke before Leroy could: “The prince of darkness is come to rescue his queen and make love by the sunflowers.”
That confirmed it for Leroy. “It’s Spike.”
“He was drivin’ a car on fire? That’s crazy!”
“Right on, brother,” Leroy said. “Ain’t a bitch in the world worth driving a burnin’ car for.”
The door opened, and Reet ran in. “The building’s on fire! Some fool drove a car afire into the front door!” Looking at Drusilla, he added, “I assume it was your boyfriend.”
“Don’t worry, little slave,” Drusilla said, “it will all be over soon. My Spike will come and take me to the promised land.”
Reet backhanded her.
Tied to the chair as she was, the blow didn’t knock Drusilla down, and when she looked back up, it was with that through-the-eyelids look that had scared Leroy back at Schwarz. “Nasty, nasty man. You want it rough, eh?”
It looked to Leroy like Reet was gonna backhand the bitch again, but he didn’t. “Put her in the closet. I want to keep as many doors between her and Spike as possible.”
“You got it, boss.” Leroy went over to the closet to make sure that it had enough room for a crazy vampire. He shifted a couple of Reet’s suits across the rack, pressing them against one another on the right-hand side of the closet. “All right—”
Suddenly, the door closed in his face. He heard a voice say, “Don’t bother, mate. I’m here to take what’s mine.”
Getting down on one knee, Leroy peered through the keyhole. Spike was standing in the doorway, and Curtis and Reet were next to where Drusilla was tied up. Spike was all covered in burns and cuts, and grinning like a fool.
Reet said, “I’m not your ‘mate,’ Spike. And I suggest you—”
Spike was holding a piece of wood that had even more burn marks than Spike’s face. “Your banister’s all broken. What ain’t on fire is in pieces like this.” He reared his arm back and threw the piece of wood at Curtis.
Curtis was dust a second later. Leroy couldn’t believe it; he’d made Curtis himself, at Reet’s request, back in the late 1960s. He was a good bag man, tough, with good sense, and Reet figured it’d be best to keep him around longer than a few years and never let him get old. It had worked out pretty good—until now.
“That’s a little trick I picked up from your Slayer,” Spike was saying. “She’s a tough bird, that one. I was all set to put her down when you had to go and gum up the works.”
“There are rules,” Reet said. “You broke them when you killed Heathcliff and Shades and rejected my offer.”
“Wasn’t really much of an offer now, was it?” Spike was in the room now, having sauntered in. “More like a threat. I’m not much for threats—or for rules, when you get right down
to it.”
Leroy was starting to sweat—not so much from what he was seeing, but from some intense heat. Reet had said the building was on fire, and now it was spreading to where they were up on the third floor.
Spike was grinning now. “Your little empire’s not much longer for this world, Weldon—the Visigoth’s come over the bloody hill. Now you coulda just let it lie. I’d’ve killed the Slayer and been on the next boat home. You shoulda been grateful to me. Now, though, you’ve bollixed it up.”
“You little punk, you think I’m afraid of you?” Reet didn’t sound too good, despite what he was saying. Why the hell ain’t he attackin’?
“Frankly, mate, I don’t much care if you’re afraid or not. I’ll tell you this for free, though—your boys ain’t comin’. Dusted ’em or dropped a banister on ’em or set ’em on fire. Only one left is you and a couple o’ meat puppets that ought to be dying as soon as the fire spreads.”
Then, finally, Reet jumped at Spike.
Leroy couldn’t believe it—it was the lousiest lunge he’d ever seen. Spike just ducked out of the way and laughed at him as he fell to the floor.
“You been out of the killin’ fields too long, Weldon. Lost your touch.”
Reet got up, his game face on. Leroy realized to his surprise that he hadn’t seen Reet go vamp for at least ten years, maybe longer. I’m thinking that cat was right—Reet’s been runnin’ things so long, he ain’t no good in a rumble.
Spike kicked Reet in the head, then punched him in the stomach. Reet stumbled backward right into the closet door.
Leroy didn’t move. Assuming Spike wasn’t lying—and that sucker had no reason to lie—Reet and Leroy were the only bloodsuckers left alive in the building. Well, aside from Spike and his honey, but they didn’t count.
Hell with this, boss—you on your own.
Meanwhile, Spike was untying Drusilla. He noticed the bruise on her face. “Did he hurt you, pet?” He sounded concerned. Damn, Leroy thought, he really does love that crazy bitch.
“Not as much as he wanted to,” Drusilla said with a smile. “Or as much as I wanted to.” She pouted. “Nasty man, wouldn’t do as I asked or wanted.”
Spike finished untying her, and she stood up, stretching her arms to the ceiling, then bringing them down around Spike’s neck. “My prince come to rescue me.”
“You came back for me, Dru—was the least I could do.”
“I’m sorry I made you cross, my Spike. Do you forgive me?”
“Always, pet—always.”
Leroy had to fight down nausea watching those two kiss.
Luckily, it was interrupted by Reet lunging at them. Spike broke off giving sugar to kick Reet in the face.
Yeah, I’m definitely stayin’ in the damn closet.
Looking at Drusilla, Spike said, “Wanna do the honors, love?”
Drusilla got a look on her face like a little kid who’d been offered candy. “May I?”
“Of course, pet. You know I can deny you nothing.”
She started clapping her hands together all rapid-fire-like, like the prissy bitch she was.
Reet, meanwhile, tried to get up again. “Can’t . . . do . . . this . . . I’m—”
“You’re nothin’, mate,” Spike said with another kick to his face.
After he fell, Drusilla reached down and grabbed Reet’s piece. It was an old .38 that Reet took off a cop he killed back in 1965. Leroy couldn’t remember Reet ever firing the thing—for all he knew there weren’t any bullets in it.
Drusilla fired it at Reet’s left kneecap. As Reet screamed in agony, Leroy turned away from the keyhole, wincing. Guess there are bullets.
The crazy bitch shot Reet five more times, each shot in a different part of his body. Leroy looked back through the keyhole to see Drusilla kneeling down at Reet’s prone form.
“Soon you’ll be a slave no more.”
Reet spit blood in her face. “Ain’t . . . no . . . slave . . . bitch.”
Drusilla grabbed his ears and smiled. “We’re all slaves to our nature, it’s just a question of accepting the bondage. But now, my little slave—you’re free.”
With that, she ripped Reet’s head off.
Leroy fought harder to keep the bile down as Reet turned to dust. That bitch is bad news. Never shoulda took her in the first place. Shoulda listened to Gustavo, man. Damn.
The heat in the closet grew worse. Leroy could now see flames licking into the room.
“Time to bugger off, love,” Spike said. “I’d say this calls for a celebration, don’t you think?”
“We’ll paint the town red,” Drusilla said with a smile.
“Damn right.”
And off they went, arm in arm.
Leroy counted to twenty, then opened the closet door and ran like hell through the inferno that Reet’s building had become. Eventually, he made it to the street. All the way down, he heard screams and wails, and he saw Marv’s and Gene’s bodies lying on the burning floor.
Without even looking back, he headed to the gambling joint on 125th. It was still closed up on account of the new equipment from Atlantic City being late, but it was a place Leroy could hole up while he figured out his next move.
Reet’s dead. So’re Curtis and half the rest of his dudes. Time for Leroy to be steppin’ up.
Chapter Fourteen
New York City
July 14, 1977
5:45 a.m.
As the sun came up, Nikki Wood stood at the corner of 119th and Lenox, mouth agape.
It’s gone.
Remnants of the superstructure of Reet’s building were still intact, of course, but most of the building was ashes and debris. There were also the burned-out remains of a car in the middle of it.
It was hardly the first building that had burned to the ground—or the first car set afire—on the night of New York’s second big blackout, but the last one Nikki would’ve expected.
She’d spent the entire night fighting to keep order in an increasingly chaotic situation. The events that played out in Armstrong and Son had repeated themselves all over the city, and rarely was she as successful in defusing the situation as she had been there, though she had been able to prevent at least some looting.
And she had staked more than three dozen vampires. In a way, the blackout had done her a favor: By bringing the bloodsuckers out in full force, it gave her a chance to put the biggest dent in the local vamp population she’d managed in any single night in four years.
Since she had been working her way northward, it was inevitable that she’d wind up at Reet’s building.
Suddenly one of the charred, broken support beams that had crashed flat onto the debris started to move.
A vampire came out and caught fire as soon as he was touched by sunlight. Cursing, he put the beam back over his head, but still screamed in pain.
Nikki ran over and recognized Gustavo, one of Reet’s boys. It took her a second to realize it was him, as he was covered in burns and cuts and bruises. “Not lookin’ so good there, Gustavo.”
“Slayer,” Gustavo said weakly. “Well, don’t this beat all. Bad enough we get the business from one of our own, now you gotta show up.”
“What do you mean?” Nikki asked, though she had a good idea of the answer.
“That British honky. He came to rescue his girl—burned the whole damn place down. Killed Curtis and Hobie and Georgie and Lucas and Toby—mighta got Leroy, too, I didn’t see—and then ripped Reet’s head right off. Then they both waltzed outta here just ’fore the damn building came down. And now I think my damn leg’s broken, and it’s daylight.”
Nikki broke into a huge grin. It worked! After three days, I was starting to think Reet’s boys would mess it up, but they did it! They got Drusilla, and Spike got them. Part of her had been hoping that Reet would take care of Spike and Drusilla instead of the other way around—like Crowley’d said more than once, better the devil you know—but mostly Nikki was just glad that one of her big problems had b
een kind enough to take care of her other one. And all it took was trashing one casino. Outta sight!
“Gustavo, my man,” she said, grabbing the support beam, “you have made my day. You know what your reward is?”
Looking at her suspiciously, Gustavo asked, “What?”
She lifted the beam. Gustavo caught fire again, this time being consumed by the flames and transforming to lifeless dust.
“Same reward you’d get anyhow, sucker.”
She got to her feet, the hot wind whipping her leather coat behind her as she walked down Lenox Avenue. A phone booth across the street caught her eye. She’d been trying all night, but she had yet to get through to Crowley. At least the busy signal meant she hadn’t actually lost any dimes—except to that one phone booth on 98th Street that ate the coin—but she was worried about her baby boy.
This time, after dialing Crowley’s number, she got an actual ring. “Hallo,” Crowley’s groggy voice said after the third ring.
“Crowley, it’s me.”
No longer remotely groggy, Crowley said, “Nikki! You’re all right! What happened?”
“I’ll tell you the whole story when I get back to you, I promise, but first, I gotta talk to Robin.”
“He’s asleep—hold on, I’ll get him.” A clunking noise signaled that he’d put the phone down. Nikki bounced back and forth on the balls of her feet, suddenly full of nervous energy, hitting against the glass door of the phone booth as she rocked back.
Then, finally, her son’s voice said, “ ’Lo?”
“It’s me, baby boy. You okay?”
“Mama? Is that you?”
“You bet, Robin.”
“Outta sight! I told Crowley you’d be okay!”
Nikki laughed, tears running down her cheek. “I bet you did, Robin. I had a long night, and I’m comin’ back to you, okay?”
“Did you take care of the bad guys?”
“Yup.” She looked over at the ruin of Reet’s building. “More than I expected to.”
“Outta sight and dy-no-mite!”
Again, Nikki laughed. “Put Crowley back on, okay, Robin honey? I love you.”
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