by Amy Patrick
He could go directly to a police station and tell them about his uncle’s death—and exactly where he’d dropped off the vampires responsible for it.
I had to be smart about this. We were no longer respectable VHC employees. We weren’t run of the mill vampires. We were escapees, and now we’d murdered a human. Well, it was self-defense, but no one would believe that.
The police might already be looking for three vampires who fit our descriptions. There was a chance Terry’s neighbors had seen us—or that he’d awakened and found his brother’s body.
I heaved a resigned sigh. “Okay, you’re right. I need help getting them into the building.”
Shane rolled his eyes. “Duh. Just tell me which one it is.”
He must have read my wary expression because he added, “I’m not going to turn you in, Abigail. I never wanted any of this to happen. And I know what happened to Glenn wasn’t your fault. Or theirs. He held you prisoner. He starved you. You can trust me.”
Could I?
It looked like I had no other choice.
12
Too Late
Shane got out of the truck and opened the back door, tugging one of the blankets around me to make sure I was thoroughly covered.
“You go ahead and get out. I’ll help them,” he said.
“They may not be able to wake up. Carrying both at once is going to be tough.”
He grinned at me. “Then it’s a good thing I work out every day. You never know when you might need to lift a couple of sacked-out vamps. At least they’re little ones. Some of the males I’ve seen I probably wouldn’t be able to budge. I’m not sure if they were that way before they turned, or if it happens when they vamp out, but there are some scary-big bastards running around out there.”
Reece, with his six-four height and his two hundred pounds of solid muscle, came immediately to mind.
At the moment, I wasn’t really interested in discussing large vampire males. I was hoping the six-foot human one with me now could manage to finish what he’d started and wouldn’t yell for help the minute we were exposed.
Carefully lifting first Kelly, then Heather, Shane stood and moved away from the truck, carrying their wrapped bodies one over each shoulder. I followed, casting wary glances at the pedestrians I could see through the opening in my blanket-drape.
Maybe they’d think Shane was a rug delivery man or something. It wasn’t commonplace to see vampires out before dark.
“Where to?” he asked as I caught up to him.
“Right here.” I headed toward the apartment building’s front doors, clutching my blanket tightly around me.
After we’d stepped through the sliders, he gave me a sardonic look. “I thought you said it was a few blocks away.”
I shrugged and went to the elevator to push the call button. The doors opened, and we stepped inside.
What Shane had said in the truck was true. I was about to pass out. The lack of rations was really catching up with me. In fact, I had to lean against the elevator car’s interior on the way up to the ninth floor.
A ding sounded, and the doors slid open.
This was where I had to make a decision. Even if it took a couple of trips, I could manage to get my friends down the long, carpeted hallway and into Larkin’s apartment without Shane’s help. I could let him leave.
But at this point, the police had no idea where we were. Shane did.
Which meant I shouldn’t let him go quite yet.
He didn’t even ask if I wanted him to come along, just followed me out of the elevator and down the hall to Larkin’s door. The building was quiet—a lot of vampires lived here, and they were no doubt just waking up from their daytime sleep.
Like the rest of us, Larkin worked at night. She’d be home now, though knowing her, she was probably still snoozing.
“Is this your place?” Shane asked.
He was still holding my two unconscious friends, and the strain was beginning to show on his face. There was a light sheen of perspiration on his forehead and upper lip from the exertion.
A swell of gratitude mixed with despair. What was I going to do with him?
“No. It belongs to my friend.”
I knocked on the door, anticipating Larkin’s surprise and really looking forward to seeing her friendly face. Of course we wouldn’t have time for a real catch-up visit—I didn’t want her to get in trouble for harboring wanted criminals or something.
We just needed a safe place and a little time to regroup. And we couldn’t start our trip to Los Angeles until the sun went down and my two friends sobered up—and until we found some discreet transportation. A stolen prison guard’s truck wasn’t the ideal choice.
When there was no answer at the door, I rang the doorbell. Still nothing.
“Maybe she’s not home?” Shane suggested.
“Maybe. I mean, she didn’t have a boyfriend last time we talked but it’s been a month since then—maybe six weeks. The good news is she keeps a spare key right...”
I flipped up the front panel of a decorative wall hanging to one side of Larkin’s door and removed the key from its hiding place. “...here.”
“I used it last time I visited,” I explained. “My plane arrived a little early, and she was still at the—”
Here I stopped. Larkin might not want me sharing information about her current employment status with a stranger. She found the job a little embarrassing.
Once, she’d had a prestigious position as a researcher with the Center for Hematology and Liver Disorders. But then her human employer had gotten nervous about having a vampire working around such important blood samples and fired her.
His fear must have been a common one or highly contagious because she’d been unable to locate another job in her specialty—or in any other scientific capacity.
When her savings had run out, she’d done what so many others of us in her position had done—swallowed her pride and taken whatever work she could get.
“... still at work,” I finished my sentence generically for Shane’s sake then turned the key in the lock and opened the door.
The first thing I noticed was the stale air. Larkin was a big fan of opening the windows and letting in the fresh air—day or night, year round.
“Something’s wrong,” I said to Shane as we moved into the apartment and he lay first Kelly then Heather on the long, red leather sofa. “She’s not here.”
He turned and did a visual scan of the room. “How do you know? Maybe she’s just sleeping and didn’t hear us?”
“No. I’d be able to sense her. The apartment’s empty.” I walked over and swiped a fingertip through the dust atop one of the side tables. Larkin was also a neat freak. “She hasn’t been here for a long time.”
A rapid pulse tapped the inside of my neck. Where could she be?
There was a small possibility the restaurant where she worked had put her on the dayshift—it had no exterior windows—but that was unlikely. The primary benefit of hiring vampirish workers was having the nightshift covered with no complaints.
Even if she was at work, that didn’t explain the dusty furniture and stale air. I whirled around, searching the room, then ran into the kitchen.
No food bowl on the floor. No Drak.
That settled it. And settled my nerves a bit.
“I think she must have gone away on a trip. Her dog, Drak, isn’t here.” Bending to check the lower cabinet closest to the refrigerator, I added, “His food’s gone. The water and food bowls too.”
“Could she have moved out?” Shane asked. “Maybe the new tenant didn’t know about the spare key?”
“No. These are her things.”
I walked over to her fireplace mantel and picked up a framed photo of the two of us, offering it to him. “See? This was taken last year in Los Angeles. Her name’s Larkin.”
He studied the picture. “She’s beautiful.” Glancing up to meet my eyes he added, “You look like you could be sisters.”
/> I turned away to hide my embarrassment at his compliment. Vampires were still capable of blushing.
“No. Just friends. She was the first friend I made when I moved to California. She showed me around, taught me about living in a big city.”
He snickered. “You were a country mouse, huh?”
“That’s an understatement. Larkin’s the total opposite. She grew up here in San Francisco before... you know, turning. We were neighbors in LA before she moved back here.”
“Cool. So, I assume she won’t mind you all staying here? You should probably lie low until I find out whether Uncle Terry’s found Glenn’s body and reported the attack.”
“I’m really sorry about that,” I said. “Kelly and Heather were so thirsty they couldn’t stop themselves. They’re pacifists like me. None of us meant for him to end up dead.”
He nodded. “I know. Glenn brought it on himself. He’s always been a little rough—he and Uncle Terry. I never imagined they’d become kidnappers, though. Or be violent.”
“Well, Glenn’s nickname at the Safety Center was ‘Clubber.’ People said he used to walk around swinging this baton, and he’d swing it for the least infraction.”
“Wow.” Shane blew out a breath. “That’s awful. I wish more people knew what was really going on in those places.”
“Do you think it would change things? Do you really think the humans would care?”
“I care,” he said.
“Well, from what I’m seeing lately, you’re the exception.”
Shane looked around and shifted from one foot to the next. His voice held a note of nervousness.
“So, I guess I should go. Probably shouldn’t leave the truck parked outside the building in case Uncle Terry did wake up and call the police.”
Ugh. He was right about the truck. But I couldn’t let him leave yet. I looked around as well.
Was there a room I could lock him in until we were safely away from the city? I’d have to wake one of my friends and have her move the truck as soon as night fell and it was safe to go out. When we left the apartment, we’d leave the keys here for Shane as well as a note telling him where to find it.
Before I could make up my mind, he drew his phone from his pocket—I hadn’t realized he had one on him—which was dumb.
He checked the screen, and his eyelids widened. Then his jaw dropped. “Crap. It’s too late.”
“What do you mean? There’s an alert out on the truck already?” A vivid image of police cruisers surrounding the building filled my mind’s eye.
“Worse.”
He turned the screen around toward me. And I saw my face.
Heather and Kelly’s pictures were there too—along with all three of our names and a terrifying headline.
13
Calling a Friend
The caption beneath the photos read: Vampires escape Safety Center in bloody rampage that leaves six guards dead.
It was hard to breathe as I skimmed the article that followed. Apparently, the official story was that the three of us had orchestrated the breakout.
It mentioned Glenn was a guard at the Center and speculated that we’d overpowered him, forcing him to deactivate the western fence, then taken him along as a hostage, killing him and stealing his truck when we’d made it to freedom.
The report cautioned that we were to be considered highly dangerous repeat offenders and gave a hotline number, asking for any information regarding our whereabouts.
The only good news was that very few of the vampires who’d fled the Center had been recaptured. If there really had been an order to exterminate them, they’d escaped just in time.
“None of it’s true,” Shane said, dismay coloring his tone.
“It doesn’t matter. They’ll shoot us on sight.”
Any hope I’d ever entertained of clearing my name and returning to my old life, my old job, and my friends—vanished in that instant.
“I’ll tell them the truth,” Shane vowed.
I shook my head. “They’ll just assume you’ve been mesmerized, that you’re saying what we told you to say. Who would believe you’d actually assist a group of ‘highly dangerous’ vampires willingly? Especially now that your uncle is dead and covered in fang marks?”
“I am willing to help you. I got you out of that basement. I got you here, right?”
“Yes, but you believed I’d hurt you if you didn’t.”
He grinned. “I’m not afraid of you. You’re a pacifist, remember?”
Nodding toward my friends, I said, “So were they until our lives were threatened and they were deprived of blood for too long. Never forget what we are. None of us is very far from our animal nature.”
He gave me an alert glance, perhaps regarding me as a threat at long last.
“Well... what are you going to do now? I mean I can go down and move the truck, but even then you won’t be able to stay here long. The sidewalk was crowded with people when we came in. Someone might have seen the blankets and those bright yellow pants and suspected something. Someone could see this bulletin and call it in. I don’t think you can stay in the city tonight.”
“Wasn’t planning to. We’re going to leave as soon as it’s dark.”
“How?”
“That’s a good question. I was hoping to borrow Larkin’s car, but obviously she’s not here, so I doubt her car is. Thanks to that alert, the authorities will be watching the airports and train stations—bus stations too.”
“Do you even have money or a credit card for tickets?” Shane asked. “I would guess your personal belongings like wallets and purses and stuff are back at the Safety Center.”
“You’re right. I’ll need to stop by the—oh no.” I closed my eyes, my hands coming up to cover my nose and mouth in a steeple as it hit me.
“What?”
I had been about to say the word bank, but that was hopeless as well. “I’m sure they’ve frozen our accounts.”
This was so bad. How were we going to travel? We had no money for transportation or to buy blood bags.
“Can I use your phone?” I asked.
“Sure. You have another friend here in town with a car?”
“No. Not in town. But I am calling a friend who’ll know what to do.”
Sadie Aldritch was the only vampire I knew with enough clout to help us. Well, not the only one but the only one I’d be willing to ask.
I knew both her numbers by heart—her personal phone and her office at the Vampire-Human Coalition.
No one picked up at either. The call to her cell number went right to voicemail.
Which was weird. She was practically fused to her phone. She got calls from important vampires and humans from around the world on a daily basis.
When I called the VHC, it rang a few times then went to an automated voice recording with instructions on how to reach the various departments. Even pressing zero sent me to a recording inviting me to leave a message.
Assuming the police would be checking all VHC communications for word on the “escapees,” I declined to leave one. Ending the call, I started to hand the phone back to Shane.
A frightening new possibility stopped me mid-motion. “Do you think they could track you here with this device?”
His eyelids widened. “Oh man. Probably. Maybe I should take out the battery?”
As he reached for the phone, I crushed it, shattering the screen and dropping jagged pieces of black plastic to the floor.
“Oh,” he said in surprise. “Well, okay then.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t afford to take any chances.”
“Don’t worry about it. I have insurance on it. I just hope they didn’t run a trace on it already. You should get out of here—soon. That’s assuming you can even hire a car without a credit card—or without being recognized and turned in. The article said there was a reward. I wish there was a way you could, you know, blend in. But with your eyes...”
His voice trailed off, and he shrugged in a way t
hat told me he hoped what he’d said wasn’t offensive. “I mean I think the lilac is pretty, but—”
“Blend in,” I practically shouted, interrupting him. “That’s it! Oh, I hope Larkin only packed for a short trip.”
Rushing from the kitchen-living room area to Larkin’s bedroom and into the connected bathroom, I rummaged through the vanity drawers, hoping to find some of the “props” she used for her job.
Yes. She’d left a variety of cosmetics and a large supply of colored contact lenses.
Heather, Kelly, and I would disguise ourselves as humans, using the contacts to cover our tell-tale lilac eyes. Larkin’s work makeup and clothing would further obscure our natural appearance and make us look less like our mug shots.
Going to her closet next, I threw it open and sorted through the garments she’d left behind.
Sadly, she’d taken all of her normal clothing, leaving only the skimpier items that fit the much-despised dress code for her job.
Oh well, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Maybe it was for the best. If people didn’t look too closely at our faces, they’d be less likely to match them to the photos and descriptions being circulated by the police.
This was downtown San Francisco after all. We’d fit in instead of standing out. We could walk out of the building and right through the city streets without turning a head.
I pulled out a few items and turned to toss them on the bedspread. Shane had followed me. He was leaning against the bedroom door frame, grinning.
“Disguises huh? Those are some... interesting clothes your friend owns.”
One of his eyebrows lifted as he surveyed the micro-dresses and midriff-baring tops and teeny weeny hot-shorts Larkin was required to wear on the job.
“What does she... do?”
“She’s a waitress. At Fangers.”
The campy themed restaurant was something along the lines of Hooters, only the beautiful female employees were all vampires instead of busty human babes. We used to roll our eyes at the chain’s slogan—“Burgers with Bite. Open All Night.”
