Heather–like that thing Freddie’d sent after me outside of Pale Rider. Heather was going to turn into that? I guess my face clued her in that I wasn’t really in the know about those fuckers.
“You have questions.”
“Yeah. Because the only one I’ve seen didn’t even look human. It just looked like a zombie with fangs.”
She looked at Heather’s restless form. “The Wretched are vampire, but they are different from us. Their bodies do not accept the transformation after death. Sometimes it is from an inexperienced sire. Or one too young. Or an interrupted blood exchange.” Her gaze settled on my neck where Heather’d bitten me. “Or infection through bite and other bodily fluids.”
I laid my hand over the healing wounds. “Can it be fixed? Reversed?”
She shook her head. “Not usually. There have been stories of ancient ones bringing someone back from the brink, but they are rumors, and nothing more.”
“Can you help her?” Vampires weren’t perfect. We were far from it. We fumbled decisions just like real live people. We were just a little more resilient. We had to be. Considering all the shit a typical vamp had to deal with–estrangement, adjustment, physical changes–we had to be. Hell, I’d been one for over twenty-five years and only recently felt like I had a grasp of even the most basic stuff.
I was starting to form a suspicion that maybe Nin’s missing one had to do with my found friend, which made her Nesferata-born, but obviously fucked up. Who else? I had smelled male Nesfer back at the campsite. There was no other logical explanation, which made me really angry. Part of me wanted to just leave the mess for Nin to clean up since it looked like her little runaway had caused this clusterfuck. But somewhere inside that monster on my temporary bed was a girl I used to know and maybe even loved a little. I was too far removed from those feelings now for them to color my reactions, which was a cold comfort. If I hadn’t hung out with Silvia beforehand, Heather wouldn’t even be around by now. I’d have let her bake in her first sunrise. It would have been a mercy on her.
This went through my mind as Nin looked at me with a mixture of pity and disgust clear on her face. Arguing with her would be beating a dead horse.
“There’s still time,” I insisted. “She needs to finish. She needs her sire. Or stronger blood, like you.”
Nin scoffed. “I will not. I cannot.”
“What about the loose nut you’re tailing? Haven’t you found him yet? Or are you just busy tracking me, wrecking my room in between bouts of wanting to bonk like bloodthirsty bunnies?”
I followed her back outside, clutching the bundle in one hand and ran the other through my hair, frustrated. I was starting to hate interacting with women because lately, my luck sucked. I couldn’t force her to stay and do what I wanted. For all I knew it’d be me lying there in that bed in a week. Yeah, I’d want out too, but Heather hadn’t said as much.
I had to try. For her sake. For Silvia’s.
Heather called my name from inside the room. I met Nin’s eyes. “And you call my kind cold and dead.” Her gaze dropped to my mouth and I knew she was watching my fangs. Different from other vampires who just have the stalactite-looking fangs–hanging points. Different from the Nesferata’s saber fangs.
“She is fit only for disposal,” Nin snapped. “You will see.”
I walked back inside and slammed the door in her face.
Heather was huddled beneath the blanket when I came back in, but she peeked out at me.
“Who was that?”
“Nobody.” I collected my jacket and keys. “Listen. I have to go out for a little bit.” I pulled the handcuffs from my backpack and her eyes widened. Funny, I thought I’d be using them on her murderer instead.
“I need to make sure you stay safe.” Well, her and the rest of the world if she got out. I had a plan. A silly plan that probably wouldn’t work, but I could see the need in her eyes. I could smell the beginning of her end, and I was willing to try anything to see if it would save her.
She wouldn’t go full Wretched. I couldn’t let that happen.
“I feel horrible.” She sat up.
“I know.” I sat on the edge of the bed, just out of her reach. “I need to go get some supplies so I can help you feel better.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
“You’re a vampire,” I said, “Just like me now. Undead.” Somehow she didn’t seem too alarmed by the prospect. I patted her leg under the blanket, stood and held out my hand. “You’re going to have to trust me now. Do you think you can do that?”
Her eyes had faded to a light rust color, like dried blood. Her veins were graying out and the backs of her hands were mottling. She was definitely in need of attention. She finally nodded and took my hand. I clicked a cuff around her wrist and led her into the bathroom, gesturing to the toilet.
“Sit between the toilet and the tub.” I tugged gently on her arm. With a wary eye, she balked, but I clamped a hand on her shoulder and pushed her down. She swung out and hissed at me, a low growl resonating in her throat. Before she could move again, I clicked the other cuff around the pipe at the back of the toilet. She jerked at it.
“I’ll be back. ’Til then, I need to make sure you stay here.”
“Of course I’d stay here.” Spittle mixed with blood running down her chin. “Tell me what’s going on? Where are you going? Why are you leaving?”
“You need blood.” I went to the bathroom door. “I need to get stuff to allow you to get that.”
“Hungry.” She laughed. It was the sound of breaking. She was losing it little by little. “You’re dead.”
“I’m not dead,” I said, but she was busy studying the tile. She squatted like an ape, her head bent to the job. The metal cuffs clinked against the plumbing. I stepped out of sight, expecting her to call after me but she laughed a little to herself and jerked at the cuffs again.
I needed a blood-draw kit. I couldn’t just serve blood on tap, not with her contagious self. I flicked on the light to the vanity-sink thing just outside of the little room where Heather was kinda singing and laughing and checked out the spot on my neck where she’d bitten. It was a light scar. I guess time would tell if she’d infected me.
Chapter 8
I needed her goddamn sire. The package Nin brought me caught my attention and I unrolled it. She’d not only given back my guns but added in a nice double holster getup, perfect for concealing them under a leather jacket. They were leather too, black with double stitching. I frowned as I ran my fingers over the threadwork. Just what did that signify? I’d have to figure out the female later.
After a stop at the corner drug store, I realized it wasn’t going to be simple to get a blood-draw kit. They had those finger-pricking kinds, but when I asked for something a little more substantial, I got funny looks. Was someone hurt? Did I need to talk to someone?
Pity gleamed in their eyes. I guess I came across as an addict. I could’ve told them that I had a girlfriend into vampires and we wanted to get kinky in the bedroom. That sort of shit would’ve flown better than the truth. Turned out, I had to get blood-draw stuff from a clinic or a hospital.
“There’s a medical supply place in Albuquerque,” the gal behind the counter said. So not helpful. I bought smokes and walked out, head swimming with problems. The closest place was a hospital–the same hospital where Heather had attacked that woman. Not sure when I became errand-boy, but for some goddamned reason everyone’d been helpless around me for some time.
I walked into the hospital through the ER entrance. About a dozen or so assorted sick people filled the sparse seating. I took a seat out of view of the intake window and stuck my nose in a magazine, waiting for someone to get called, it wasn’t like I could just walk in and ask for the blood-draw materials, but maybe I could slip in with somebody else. The plasma TV played some vampire series. One of the fifteen different ones. I glanced up at scenes every now and then. It looked like a show for teenagers. Made me kind of nostalgic for Buffy
. Now there was a girl that could try to stake me any night.
“Lupe Perez?”
A tiny, wrinkled lady with a white sweater draped over her shoulders struggled to get out of her chair. She appeared to be alone, so I threw the ’zine down and went to help her. Her brown eyes shone in gratitude, and she patted my hand as I walked with her to the intake window.
“We can get her from here.” The nurse turned to direct someone to come out with a wheelchair. The twin doors opened up like the back of a cargo plane and Lupe was planted in the chair but didn’t let go of my hand.
“He can come with me.” She clung to me with surprising strength, despite her scrawny arms. The staff relented, and I was in, just like that. We were shown to a room, which was little more than an indention in the hallway, with a sideways gurney and packages of tubing. I brightened at the selection. To add to my joy, the nurse brought a blood-draw cart. I nearly laughed. Lupe was still clamped to my arm like I was her grandson, leaning in close.
“I’m scared,” she whispered with wide eyes. She blinked. “Who are you?”
“Gabriel.”
“Gabriel.” She appeared to think. “Like the angel. Did you come to take me home, Gabriel?”
I laughed and hugged her shoulders. “Sorry, not this time. But what are you scared of?”
“They says I have problems. I drove up here all by myself. But it’s my heart.” She pressed a gnarled hand to her chest. “It don’t work well anymore. It tried to give up on me last year, so whenever I have anything happen in that area, they tell me to come in.”
“She’s here nearly every week.” The doctor, a short, balding man with a tiny mustache joined us in the examination bay. He smiled at her. “Hello, Lupe. Good to see you again. Who’s your friend?”
She tightened her grip on my arm. “This is Gabriel,” she said like I was the answer to everything.
The doctor gave me a quizzical look. “I didn’t know she had family.”
“I don’t. Never had any children. This young man came and helped me get back here, better than this place’s people ever have.”
“So you don’t know her?” The doctor frowned, but apparently his name was called overhead, because he excused himself and disappeared. My gaze fell on the blood-draw cart. Yes. Vials. Plunger thingies. Needles. Joy. I had joy over needles.
I stood, disentangling myself from Ms. Perez with a definite degree of persuasion, and helped myself to what I could, as fast as I could. Tubing, syringes, things in packages. Everything but the tubing fit in my jacket. Lupe watched me with great interest as I stuffed that under my waistband.
She blinked up at me. “You have to go, huh?”
I nodded and crouched in front of her to take her hand. She smoothed her fingers through my hair with the other. “There’s nothing wrong with you tonight, Lupe,” I said in a low voice. “If there was, I’d be able to tell. You’re lonely.”
I stood and she gasped at me.
“I knew you were an angel.”
I laughed. “I’m no angel. A hospital isn’t a place to find friends. Trust me.” I helped her lie down on the gurney. “I have to go. Take care, Lupe.”
She hesitated for a moment then slowly relaxed her grip on my hand. Tears threatened to brim over in her eyes. “Thank you.”
I nodded, and walked out of the emergency center.
Sometimes I got ideas and just wanted to follow them through, because if I stopped to think about it too long it’d sound really stupid. That’s about where I was when I left the hospital. Heather’s sire. I had to find her sire, because he was the source of this mess and Nin wasn’t going to help. Ten years ago I’d have made her do it whether she liked it or not, but being around people had made me soft. Considerate even. She was right, actually. I was too nice at times. Or just really damned naive.
I stopped by Silvia’s house before heading back. I needed my stuff. Silvia was on the front porch in one of those folding chairs found at discount department stores with the vinyl seats and backs. I hated them when I was alive because they always made me sweat where the chair met my body. She raised an eyebrow as I walked up the narrow sidewalk to greet her. That night she was in black, and in the limited light, blended in fairly well with the surrounding shadows.
“Staking out the front yard?”
Silvia nodded at me. She had her shotgun resting in her arms like a sleeping infant. I turned to look out at the lawn. Nothing moved but she was watching something. “What’s going on?”
She raised her gaze to meet mine after a few seconds. “Maybe mountain lions. There’s been more noise.”
“Where? Out here?”
“The barn.”
“So, why are you out front?”
“There’s a chair here. I thought I might catch it if it came around the side of the house.” She rose to her feet. “Probably best to just go inside.”
I held the door for her as she went in before me. “I’ll go check out your barn. You stay here.”
She stopped and turned to give me a quizzical look. “You can’t just go out back and poke around, Gabriel.”
I guided her the rest of the way inside by putting my arm around her shoulders. We walked to the kitchen together. “Make some tea or something. I’m just going to go look around.” I had my guns. I’d blow kitty to kingdom come if it came down to it. I opened the back door as quietly as I could and was about to step outside when something jabbed me between the shoulder blades. It was a flashlight.
Silvia stared up at me, defiant. “At least take this.”
I didn’t need a flashlight, but took it anyway and stuffed it in my back pocket. It was one of those long, heavy six C-cell Maglites police used to carry. Keeping low to the ground, I ran to the front of the barn, crouching beside one of the massive double doors. But it wasn’t some overgrown mountain cat. It was a goddamn vampire, of all things. The area seemed overrun with them. I could smell him already–a sweaty male Nesferata. He was inside, hiding. I drew one of my guns. The doors were ajar just a little bit and plenty wide enough for someone to slip through.
I crawled sideways to the front of the right door, and grabbed the left door to fling it wide open. Nothing stirred inside. I slipped in around the other side of the right door, so I didn’t have enough time to react to a creak in the rafters before he pounced on me from above. He chomped into my shoulder and squeezed my ribs so hard I dropped my pistol. I clawed behind me to lay hands on him and unable to reach, smashed him backward into a shelf of canning supplies, causing him to let go. He rose to his feet, the classic muscular lines of a typical Nesferata familiar to me in the dim light, before he charged at me with reflective eyes and a feral growl. We collided with the impact of two heavy trucks and fell back into the broken-shelled driveway. He was a big son of a bitch, a mature Nesfer with fangs fully extended and looking to take another piece out of me. I dodged his bite, but he caught me with a powerful right hook that felt more like a sledgehammer than a fist. A flurry of stars exploded in my vision as I lay there dazed. Shit, and I thought Nin could hit hard.
I fought blindly as he grabbed me by the hair and slammed my head against the sharp shells repeatedly before I managed to worm the big ass flashlight out of my back pocket to club him in the temple. That gave me a chance to roll us over and put me on top. In pain, bleeding, and pissed off, I clenched my fist and smashed it into his face before he yanked me sideways by my belt. He was back on his feet in seconds but so was I. When he charged me again, I shoved him off balance and knocked him to the ground. I stood over him to jam the sole of my boot into his throat. “Who are you?”
He glared daggers at me in silence. I repeated my question without results. Finally, I drew my second gun and planted the muzzle into the soft flesh between his eyes. “Talk or die right here, motherfucker.”
His mouth worked and I loosened my grip. His fangs had receded about halfway and he spoke in a language I didn’t understand. His eyes rolled in their sockets as he licked his bleeding lips an
d tried again in English.
“My name is Seskrit. Krit.”
“Krit,” I snarled. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right here, right now.”
He grunted as I applied pressure, cramming the muzzle of my Tracker into his skin hard enough to leave a mark.
“Tell me, Krit.”
“Looking...for Heather,” he croaked.
I let go of Krit when he said her name. Heather. He knew Heather. He sat up, clutching his throat as it healed. His hair, done in loose sand-colored braids, fell in his face. As fast as he was snapping back into place I knew he wasn’t a run-of-the-mill grunt. This was the runaway Nin was after. Had to be.
“I have Heather right now, Krit, but you fucked up, asshole. She’s a bad turn. Let me guess, you tried turning her.”
He nodded, put his face in his big hands and hunched his shoulders. “What have I done?” he said into his palms. I lowered my weapon. I had my man. He wasn’t going to try anything stupid. I had his new made chained up in my bathroom.
“I need you to come back with me.” I patted my pockets where I’d stuffed all the medical shit. Hopefully, none of it had broken in the scuffle. My face hurt and I still hated Nesferata, but the guy really was a pathetic case. I watched him rise to his feet.
“How did you get here?” I tucked the gun back into its holster and tightened my grip on the flashlight. Silvia’d be out here at any given point in time and I didn’t need her in trouble with an obviously distraught vampire I’d only just met.
“I have a truck.” He rubbed his throat. “Where is Heather? Her body. It was stolen.”
“She walked out of the hospital.” I said. “I ran into her nearby. She’s safe, but she’s dying.”
He questioned me with his gaze. “I believed she was dead. I did not intend to fail as I so obviously have.”
“Of course you didn’t.” I grinned. “You come along, find a self-respecting human and cut them down. By that, I mean what you and I are now.”
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