“He said that vampires were social creatures, and they lived together in what he called nests.” I looked at Megan. “His words, not mine; maybe you guys reminded him of fire ants or something.”
She gave me a look. “He didn’t make it up. It’s just what you call a place where vampires live.”
“Seriously? Uh, okay, sure.” I still thought it was a strange term, but I wasn’t going to argue the point. Of course, that didn’t stop me from asking the next question: “Okay, so if you guys live in nests, what are groups of you called? Like flocks or swarms or something?”
“Oooh, I like pods, or maybe gaggles. Oh my god, it’s a gaggle of vampires, run!” said Lacey. She looked like she had an even better idea and was going to continue, but Megan’s look stopped her. I decided it was best to drop the question and continue my story.
“Anyway, like you said, Robert kept telling us that a master vampire didn’t just turn a vamp and let it loose. He said it was counterproductive. It was in a vampire’s best interests to keep the new ones safe, and make sure they didn’t do anything that would draw unwanted attention—like killing coeds and leaving a corpse full of evidence. He said that vampires didn’t even kill their victims if they could avoid it; they didn’t have to, and all it did was create complications.” I looked at her again and she was nodding in agreement, probably to lull me into a false sense of security.
“But hell, we only half listened. All we ever saw were the ones that had been abandoned, out of control and insane. To us they were inhuman monsters, incapable of speech or coherent thought. We had all gotten overconfident and I think we just kind of tuned Robert out.
“So, I guess word must have gotten out that Robert was back in the game, he had a new crew, and we were taking care of business, ‘cause he started getting calls from people wanting our help. We even got a pay job all the way from California.
“This one was pretty lucrative, and Robert called it money in the bank. He said it was a retrieve and disposal mission, which kind of threw us; up until now it had all been straightforward vampire hunting. Robert laughed and said all we had to do was pick up an object and destroy it—no vampires involved. We weren’t sure what we were supposed to retrieve and how we were supposed to dispose of it, but Robert seemed to have an idea, and that was good enough for us.”
“Is that why you’re here?” asked Lacey.
“Yeah, well, that and what I’m about to tell you.” I continued, “So this call he got from California was last week. We were packed and ready to leave when, at the last minute, Robert got a line on another vamp. He thought it might be the one creating the mess all over Texas. Supposedly it had just killed a family out in the Hill Country and was holed up in their ranch.” I stopped to close my eyes. I really didn’t want to revisit this. “We should have seen that things didn’t make sense. How did this contact know the family was dead? How were they still alive? How did they know it was the same vampire creating all of the trouble? How did they know it was still at the ranch?
“Too late now, I guess. Whoever it was that called Robert, he trusted them. We all figured it would be another quick kill. We weren’t able to do all of the prep work we normally did; the California job was time sensitive and, like I was telling you, we had gotten cocky. So off we went—a quick stop to kill the vamp at the ranch, then on to California.”
“I take it that’s not how it went?” said Lacey.
I shook my head. “Nah, it didn’t go down that way—not even close.” I paused to regroup, then continued.
“It wasn’t just one vampire. There were a ton of them, and they were waiting for us.” I stopped again. It was too painful to go into much detail, so I gave them a quick recap of the massacre at the ranch and how I got away—by surprising the head vamp, who tried some sort of mind control thing on me that didn’t seem to work.
“Were you looking into his eyes?”
“What?”
“When he was telling you to stop, were you looking at him?”
“Well, yeah, are you kidding? I wasn’t taking my eyes off him. He had just killed all my friends. Anyway, like I said, it didn’t work. I got out of there, went home, grabbed my car, and headed straight for California.” She looked surprised.
“You shouldn’t have been able to do that,” Megan said.
“Yeah, I think he was disappointed, too; but hey, I live to defy the odds.” I gave her a weak smile and wondered if I’d revealed too much about the vamp mind control not working on me. Too late now, I guess.
I finished my story, walking them through the troll knocking me out and killing my contact in the parking lot earlier today, about the key my contact left me, and then having to steal that bike to run away from that same troll later on. They could fill in the rest, since they had been with me. When I finished, Lacey burst into laughter, but her face showed pity. Megan just shook her head, looking sad.
“He’s cursed,” said Lacey.
“I think he’s just really unlucky,” Megan said, looking genuinely sorry for me.
“It’s like serendipity gone bad,” Lacey said, shaking her head in wonder. “Doesn’t matter now, though,” she added.
“Why?” I asked.
“’Cause you’re dead.” Lacey actually seemed annoyed by the revelation.
“What? Hey!” I said. “You just said you weren’t going to kill me!”
“We’re not,” Megan said, glaring at Lacey, who ignored her. “And we’re sorry about what happened to your friends. Those vampires shouldn’t have been made and then left on their own. Whoever did that was beyond irresponsible.”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Lacey. “Even if you’re too hung up on him to do it, after he finds out about the vampire hunter bit, Donovan will kill him. Though, considering what happened with the bike, maybe not. It might be like a race to see who kills you first.”
“What?” It was a nice bike and all, but I didn’t see Toni and her friends killing me for it. After all, I left it in one piece, and I’m sure they got it back by now. Assuming someone hadn’t driven by and thrown it in a pickup truck or something. Of course, I still had the key in my pocket.
“No one’s going to kill you,” said Megan.
“Didn’t he say the bike was Toni Nguyen’s?” asked Lacey.
“Yeah. So?”
“He’s dead. She’s going to kill him.”
Megan was considering that and said, “Okay. Yeah, maybe.”
“What, you know her?” San Jose was not a small town, so I was a little surprised by the revelation.
“Of her, yeah.”
“She’s a were,” said Megan.
“A where?” I asked, unsure if this was another abrupt topic shift.
“A were. That whole gang is. Couldn’t you tell? I thought you said you could spot supernaturals.” Then I knew. I understood the wet animal smell all around me in the Deli. The bikers—they were all werewolves.
It must have shown on my face because Lacey said, “See, weres aren’t like normal people. They’re kind of psycho. They’ll hunt you down and kill you for stealing a bike. It’s like you were dissing their pack or whatever.” She was very matter-of-fact about this, and I was a little alarmed. I guess that was written across my face, too, because she hesitated and added, “Or, maybe not? Who knows; weres don’t make much sense. But they do like to kill things.”
“They didn’t seem homicidal,” I said, reassessing the initial impressions I got from the trio at the deli.
“You need to call her and explain what happened,” advised Megan. “That might help.” She didn’t sound like she believed it. “And don’t worry about Donovan.”
“Why not?” Lacey and I said at the same time, not that I had any idea who Donovan was.
“’Cause we’re not going to tell him, so he won’t know, and he won’t bother you,” Megan said, looking pointedly over at Lacey.
Lacey raised her eyebrows in surprise. “He’s a vampire hunter, Megan! He already admitted that he’s sta
ked vampires! He probably burns witches at the stake and does whatever it is you do to weres. Spay them or whatever.”
“Spay them?”
“Or whatever,” she said, waving her spoon.
“I’ve never killed a witch, or a werewolf, or anything else that wasn’t a vampire.” I said.
“Slippery slope. Vampires are like the gateway drug for hunters,” said Lacey. Megan gave her a look.
“They were just vampires—monsters.” I remembered my audience and tried to recover. “I didn’t mean just monsters, and not that all vampires are monsters; I mean, it’s possible you aren’t, but—“
“You’re not helping your cause,” Megan told me. I shut up.
“Look,” Lacey said, looking at Megan. “This makes everything easier. The weres can take care of our little problem here, and no one has to know you helped him out. We can forget this night ever happened and move on with our lives. Maybe go get more ice cream.” She did at least have the decency to get a slightly apologetic look on her face as she glanced my way, and shrugged as if to say “sucks to be you.”
“We helped him out, Lacey. I want to know who sent a troll after Chance and why.” Megan turned toward Lacey.
It was kind of surreal having the vampire defend me, and I wasn’t so sure it was going to work out. I tried to slip out of bed, hoping they were distracted with their argument, but Megan’s cool hand appeared on my chest and I slumped back down.
“Who cares?” said Lacey.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that some guy calls a bunch of hunters in Texas and asks them to come get rid of an object? Then a troll kills him? Then chases Chance here all over town?”
“Who cares?” she repeated, emphatically. “If you’re so worried, tell Donovan and let him deal with it. Isn’t that what he’s there for?”
“Who’s Donovan?” I asked.
“Master Vampire around here. He’s the one who’s supposed to handle things like rogue trolls and wannabe Van Helsings,” explained Lacey.
“We’re not getting him involved,” said Megan. “We can take care of this ourselves. Now, I would think if someone went to all of the trouble of sending a troll, and obviously is using some sort of magic to track poor Chance here, it must be for something important.”
Poor Chance? I had just been reduced to puppy status.
“You think? You know, you’re right. They must have used magic to track him.” Lacey looked at me. “Assuming, of course, that they didn’t just follow you from the sandwich shop. You know, using a car.”
I shook my head. “No one followed me; I made sure of it.”
She looked doubtful. Then her expression changed as she thought of something. She asked me if I’d lost anything recently, and it looked like she already knew the answer.
“No. Wait. Yes. My phone.”
“So, that’s it. Someone got hold of your phone and is using it to find you.”
I wasn’t that dumb. “Uh, don’t I have to have it on me for that to work?”
“Not with technology, stupid—with magic. It’s called scrying. A witch can use an object that belongs to a person to find them, or at least get glimpses of where they are.
Depends on how powerful the witch is.”
“Great—so they know where I am.”
“I really doubt it. There are wards on this house to prevent that kind of thing.”
“Wards?”
“Like a magical security system.”
“Right. So, what happens if I leave?”
“Then they find you, and we go back to the you being dead thing.”
“Got it. So I just stay here for the rest of my life.” Locked in a house with a vampire and a witch.
“Don’t worry; I think I can do something about the phone.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but you’re going to owe me.”
Megan commented, “They must be after something valuable. Probably something magical, powerful, maybe even epic.” She was laying it on a bit thick for some reason.
Lacey was thoughtful. “You know, you’re probably right.”
“Of course I am,” said Megan. “Though if it is a powerful artifact, we probably should tell Donovan. He’d know how to handle something like that. Or maybe even the Coven. You know I hear that their new member Vivian, or whatever her name is, knows a lot about magical devices. I think that actually makes the most sense. Do you have Vivian’s number?”
“Screw Donovan, and we’re not going to Vivian,” said Lacey. “Tonight I’m going to take care of Chance’s little problem, and then tomorrow we find out what that key unlocks.” She left the room, talking to herself about what ingredients she would need for something or other.
Megan told me to get some rest, and then quickly removed her hand—the hand we both forgot was on my chest to keep me from bolting. I kind of missed it once it was gone.
“Isn’t this your room?” I asked, as she was walking toward the door.
“Yeah, we can trade off in the morning. If you need the bathroom it’s through that door. Now get some sleep.” She turned off the light and was about to leave when I called to her.
“Yes?” She turned and paused in the doorway.
“Thanks.”
She smiled and shut the door.
Sleeping in a vampire’s room, with her lurking somewhere nearby, I figured I’d be awake all night. But the bed was comfortable and the smell—lavender, I think—was nice. I wondered if maybe this room was a prop and she slept in a coffin in the basement. I found myself hoping that wasn’t the case. A minute later, I was asleep.
Chapter 7
I woke up to the sound of the sink. It took me a few seconds to figure out whose sink it was, but then the disaster that was the past few days came back to me and I remembered. I looked over to see that the clock on the nightstand read 5:48. Light came from under the bathroom doorway. I turned on the table lamp next to the clock and then looked for my shirt. It had seen better days.
The door opened and Megan walked out wearing sweats and a t-shirt—no bra. Her hair was wet and looked like it had been towel-dried. “Sorry I woke you.”
“No problem; it’s almost eight my time. I’m usually up by now.” I did my best to focus on her face. She wasn’t wearing any makeup at all this time, though it didn’t matter—she was still adorable.
She saw me holding my ruined shirt, scrunched up her face and said, “That’s had it. I got you some new clothes; they’re in the bag on the dresser. Not too stylish, but one can’t be too picky shopping at three a.m. There are fresh towels in the bathroom.”
“Thanks,” I said, and meant it. The idea of a hot shower sounded good. My ribs still hurt, but not as badly as before. Bruised, not broken. I had various other aches and pains, but at least my headache was gone.
I grabbed the bag with the clothes, then went into the bathroom. It was humid and the mirror was fogged; she must have just taken a shower. That got me thinking about her naked. I shook my head to clear it. “Focus,” I told myself, turning on the water.
“What?” came a voice from the bedroom. Damn, she had good hearing.
“Um, nothing. Just talking to myself.”
“First sign of insanity,” she called back.
I grinned despite myself. I undressed and went to toss my ruined clothes in the trash when I saw her dress. Something was bugging me from last night. I picked it up and got a whiff of iron and lavender. The dress was thrashed; she must have really taken a beating. I turned it around and saw the tear in the back at about kidney level. The black fabric was stiff and crusted with dried blood—a lot of it. She had taken more than a beating. I threw it back in the trash on top of her designer shoes, one of which was missing its heel.
I looked in the mirror. The cuts from yesterday were healing fast, even for me. Maybe Lacey really had worked some magic. I needed to shave, but didn’t have a razor. I could probably use a haircut soon as well; it was getting to the point where I would actually have to comb
it. I tended to keep it short enough to towel-dry and ignore.
I resisted the urge to snoop through the drawers and medicine cabinet, and got in the shower. The razor lying on the soap shelf answered one of those random unspoken questions I had about vampires. Asking Robert things like, can bullets kill vampires—not that he had seen, but enough of them, especially in the head, could sure slow them down—was okay, but the right opportunity to ask about their personal hygiene never really came up.
I showered and dressed. For open-24-hours-a-day big-box clothes they were fine, and I honestly wasn’t picky when it came to clothes. She had kept it simple: jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie. She even got me new socks and boxers, which was slightly embarrassing but appreciated, even if the boxers were yellow with a big smiley face on the butt.
I left the bathroom to find the bedroom dark. I could make out Megan’s still form in the bed. I mapped out my exit using the light spilling out from the bathroom, then clicked it off and made my way to the door, hoping the path I remembered didn’t run into anything. I managed to make it out into a hall with my shins still intact. I followed the hall out to a sunlit kitchen and the smell of coffee.
This room had a window. The sun was low, having just risen. It looked like we were in a one-story house in a residential neighborhood. Lacey, wearing jeans and a sweater, was hovering over a stove, a pot of coffee burbling beside her on the counter.
“I hope you like French toast, ‘cause that’s all I can make.”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
“Coffee’s almost ready, mugs are up there, there’s cream in the fridge, and the sugar’s there,” she explained in two breaths, pointing first to a cupboard, then the fridge, and finally to a faux-vintage Bewitched sugar bowl next to the coffee pot. I guess she was making coffee for my benefit, because she sure didn’t need it.
“Thanks.” The cupboard held a large random selection of mugs, which answered the question, “What do you buy a vampire for her birthday?” I grabbed a mug with a picture of a ‘66 Mustang convertible on it and filled it with coffee. I added a spoonful of sugar and opened the fridge to get some cream. I found it right next to six plastic pint bags of Opositive. I pretended I didn’t see that, closed the fridge and sat down at the kitchen table.
Chance in Hell Page 5
