* * *
CHAPTER THIRTY
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When the plane finally taxied to a stop and the roar of the engines died out, I called to the pilot. '' Can you get me a wheelchair, or a cart or something? My friend is just a little bit disoriented."
The pilot studied Mitch lying limply in the seat. "Should I call for an ambulance? He looks pretty bad."
I shook my head. "No. This happens periodically. Stress or something. Brings on little seizures. He'll be okay after a bit of a rest."
"Whatever you say, Miss. Victor says you're the boss on this trip."
With the pilot's help, I managed to get Mitch into the wheelchair and off the plane. I'd bundled him up in one of the blankets as if he were an invalid, and people naturally accepted him as such.
Angelo was waiting at the gate for me. "Miss Lily." he yelled, walking toward us, "welcome home. And what have we here?"
"This is my stepfather, Mitchell Greer."
"But"—Angelo peered at him closely—"he one of them. How you do this to him?"
"Modern science, 'Lo. Beats that voodoo stuff anytime."
"My medicines didn't work?" His expression was doubtful and pained.
I touched his arm. "Actually, they worked quite well. I just didn't want to take any chances."
"I suppose you get that hair with modern science too?"
I nodded. "Extensions. I'll have them taken out tomorrow. But it's amazing, isn't it?"
Angelo chuckled and took the wheelchair handles. "It's something, that's for sure. So what now?"
"Is the tank finished?"
"Well, Lily, I'm glad you asked. It weren't easy; those are some pretty weird-ass instructions you sent along. And it cost twice as much as you expected—to get them to do it fast and right. But yeah, it done. I don't suspect Moon would care for what we do to her bedroom."
"Moon's dead. That's what started this whole crazy thing." I sighed and leaned over Mitch, touching his hand. His eyes rolled open briefly and his mouth opened and closed. I laughed. "Later, Mitch, we'll talk later. For now, let's get you to your new home."
It took half an hour to find a van that would accommodate Mitch and the wheelchair. And another thirty minutes to get from the airport to the house. I kept checking my watch, nervous as a cat. There was plenty of time until dawn, so I didn't have to fear breaking my promise to Mitch or Victor that there would be no deaths. But I wasn't entirely sure how long before the drug would wear off. And I sure as hell didn't want him loose when it did.
I paid the cab driver when we arrived, and left Angelo to struggle with Mitch while I went inside the house to inspect the holding tank. Even standing in Moon's bedroom, it looked exactly like those in the cellars of The Imperial. It had been furnished with nothing but a cot, fastened to one of the side walls. I inspected the dials, remembering Victor's instructions; it all seemed as it should. I shrugged; I was hardly an expert in the incarceration of vampires. So, I thought, whether it will hold him or not, time will tell.
Angelo approached with the chair. "Do we just wheel him in and shut the door?"
I shook my head. "I don't want him to have anything around that he can use to break the glass. We'll move him onto the cot and then shut the door."
"He awful cold," Angelo said as he gripped Mitch under his arms. "You don't suppose he dead, do you?"
"His eyes are still open and moving, so, no, I don't suppose he's dead. On the count of three?" I held Mitch's ankles. "One, two, three." 'Lo heaved him up out of the chair and I swung his legs over. We laid him out like a corpse, his arms folded over his chest. Then we pushed the chair back out and closed and sealed the door. I flipped a switch on the control panel, turning on the microphone, so that I could tell when he woke up. Then I checked and locked the shutters at the window, pulled the two sets of heavy curtains closed, turned off the overhead light and went out to the living room.
Angelo was in the kitchen. "What do I do now, Angelo?" I sat down in a chair at the small table and sighed. "I have a semiconscious vampire locked up in a large glass tank in Moon's bedroom. And to be honest, right now I have no idea why I've done this. It made sense at one point, I guess, but now?"
Angelo shuffled over to me and handed me a glass of brandy, setting the bottle on the table in front of me. "You sendin' a message to your mama, is what you're doin'. Can you forget how bad you felt all these years, knowin' she did what she did to you? Buryin' you before your time? Leavin' you to be raised by strangers? Never once wonderin' about you? Never once carin' if you still lived? This all is a message, Miss Lily, and one she won't soon forget. You stole somethin' from her as she stole from you."
"And when she gets the message and comes after him? What happens then?"
Angelo chuckled. "Lord, Lily, I don't know. But it'll be a powerful thing to witness. She not likely to hurt you, you her own blood. Even to such as them, that got to matter."
I shrugged. "I guess so."
"And in the meantime, child"—he leaned over me, smiling in my face—"you give me such a gift That man, he be hummin' with power. I can feel it runnin' along my skin like a river's current."
"But what good will it do you? You can't use his power."
"Maybe not. But I can learn from it. I can study it. That creature in there, he like a living god. He won't never die, Miss Lily, not on his own. Think of it. Even you grow older, even you will die someday. You can count your years if you want. But he will walk the earth after you and I are dust in the eyes of the gods. I want a piece of that, child."
"He is not to be harmed, Angelo. I promised."
"Hush, child, I won't harm him. But we need to think about feedin' him. Just that short time I touched him, I felt a strong hunger."
I finished my drink and poured myself another. "I don't know about that, 'Lo. It doesn't seem like a good idea."
"Well, don't think on it for too long, Lily. Eventually he come out of that cage, one way or another. You want to be standin' in his way when he does? Not me, no, sir, I like the blood in my body to stay just exactly where it is, thank you very much."
I shook my head and stood up. "I can't think anymore tonight. I'm tired and I need some sleep. So you should go now and I'll see you tomorrow."
"You go to bed if you need to, Lily. But I'm not leaving you alone in this house with that creature. I stay here on the couch. Just in case."
"Whatever." I walked down the hall and stood in the doorway to Moon's room. Mitch was lying as we'd left him, but his eyes followed me and his mouth moved. "You won't be hurt," I said to him, "and when my mother gets here, you'll be free to go. This was never about you."
I sighed, closed the door and went into my room. Lying down on the bed fully dressed, I stared at the ceiling a while and pictured what my mother was feeling right now. Totally alone in the world, abandoned without notice and without explanation. It was possible that she hadn't yet realized the situation, but eventually she would return to the cabin, finding it empty and deserted. "You're lucky, bitch," I whispered in anger. "You, at least, don't have to dig your way up to the surface and go through decades of agonized yearning for someone to return to you."
How long would it take for her to find us? She had to make the effort; everything I'd learned about her pointed to her finer qualities. Her sense of duty and moral obligation. Her compassion for others. Her deep ability to love. I laughed at the irony of the situation. Had she just followed through on all of that with me, there wouldn't be a situation.
I rolled over and looked at the clock. Three hours before dawn and still not a sound from Mitch. If he stayed quiet until sunup, we'd at least have another full day of safety; he'd never attempt to break out in broad daylight.
I got up from bed to check on him one more time. The house was dark now; Angelo had turned out all of the lights, leaving only the candles on Moon's altar burning. I could hear Angelo chanting softly; the sound was musical, hypnotic. The hair raised briefly on my arms and I shivered. I didn't ask what spiri
ts he petitioned; I didn't want to know. He walked a darker path than Moon ever had. One did not become a bokor without the taint of death.
Sensing my presence, he looked up at me, his eyes reflecting the candle flames. He nodded once without stopping his chant, and I left him to his devotions.
Outside of Moon's closed door was a small pile of bones and feathers, a charm Angelo had no doubt left there to keep us safe from what was within. I smiled and left it undisturbed as I opened the door a crack and peered in.
It took my eyes a while to adjust to the darkness, but eventually I could make out the still form lying there. He hadn't moved; his arms were still crossed over his chest. Only the glare of his eyes betrayed his awareness of me. "Good night, Mitch," I said. "See you in the morning."
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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
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"Five days, Miss Lily. He been layin' there for five days, not so much as moved a muscle. We got to do something."
I ran my fingers through my hair, short again now since I had cut off all of the extensions. "I don't know, Angelo, I don't like the thoughts of it."
"It has to be done. We got to feed him; a little fresh blood'll push that drug right out of him. Unless you want to show your mama a corpse when she comes?"
"I don't think she's coming, Angelo."
"Then even more reason to feed him. We can't keep him here forever."
We were sitting in the kitchen again, as we had night after night, day after day. The bottle of brandy I'd bought the second day after my return was almost gone. Resting my elbows on the table, I put my hands over my face. "Let me think, 'Lo, let me think."
"Think all you want, Lily, you know I right."
But I couldn't think. We'd been discussing this issue since that very first night and had gotten nowhere. Angelo was determined to "feed the creature" and I was just as determined not to upset the status quo.
I yawned and moved my hands up to my temples, holding my head, eyes down and staring at the table-top. Then I looked up at Angelo. "It doesn't have to be human blood, does it?"
"I'm no expert, child. I suppose he could make do with cow or dog or even chicken blood. Human be best, of course, but harder to come by. Although"—he stopped and thought for a moment—"there are ways. But no," he said quickly to forestall my objections, "it don't need to be human."
Just the thought of him scurrying about in an alley somewhere, procuring a dog or cat to give blood for our guest, gave me the creeps. Strange, I had no problem picturing a vampire feeding, could even visualize the experience clearly. But this was somehow different. One was a natural instinct; the other seemed furtive and dirty. Then again—I shot Angelo a glance out of the side of my eyes—it wouldn't be the first blood to stain his hands. And probably wouldn't be the last. If putting fresh blood into Mitch's system brought him out of his stupor, as 'Lo argued it would, it was a good thing. And if it didn't, well, we wouldn't lose much for the effort.
He must've felt my determination waver. "Why don't you go out for a bit to clear your head, Lily, and let 'Lo take care of it for you?"
I gave him a doubtful look. "I don't know."
He laughed. "You been saying that for five days now, girl. Let me take care of it for you."
I sighed, drained my glass and stood up. "I could use a break away from here, I guess. And you could be right." I stretched, thinking a nice long walk would be wonderful. "So go ahead and feed him if you can. But make it quick and painless, okay? No torture of dumb animals."
Angelo looked hurt. "I never took any life without the proper respect, Miss Lily. I know what to do. Been prayin' on it since that first night. Don't you worry about it; ol' Bowlegged 'Lo will do the thing right."
For a while I just walked, enjoying the early evening. New Orleans had cooled down a bit since I'd left; it didn't have the same crispness of autumn in New York, but the air here in October was light and sweet, unlike the heavy mugginess of summer. The smell of death still lingered, though, try as I might to ignore it. Pervasive, it hovered on the streets, haunting the corners and the alleys, pushing me away from any possible solace I might find at The Blackened Orchid, drawing me finally to the cemetery where Hyde and I used to go with his friends. "What's it all about?" I whispered as I sat down on the steps of the mausoleum. I closed my eyes and leaned back. Almost, I was back in that time with the smell of Hyde's jacket, his cigarettes, the cheap wine he drank; I could almost feel the weight of his arm around my shoulders. I hadn't loved him, but he was real and warm and alive. He had kept me rooted in place. He had made me feel human, loved.
As had Moon. She'd been an anchor. Without her, I'd just drifted and allowed myself to be tossed around by the wind and the waves. I'd merely reacted, instead of taking action, falling upon bits of good luck, only to twist them to fit my anger.
And where was my anger now? I tried to find it, tried to dredge it up from the bottom of my empty soul. Sadness and sorrow I found in plenty, but the rage that had kept me striving for so long was gone. I gave a wan smile, remembering one of Moon's favorite sayings. "Be careful what you wish for, child, it usually comes true." She'd said it to me more times than even I could remember. I'd never listened.
But what I'd wished for had come true. The instrument used to bring my mother to her knees in sadness and misery was lying inert in a glass tank in Moon's bedroom. I had won; I had made her feel the anguish of what I felt. And it didn't do me one damned bit of good. I was still here, still Lily, still poised between human and vampire. And more alone than I'd ever been before.
"Jesus, Lily," I said with a laugh, hearing the whisper of my voice in the old tombstones, "you've really fucked up this time. And there's no one to drag you out of it but you."
I could run. I had money, I had identification. I could hitch a ride out of this death-ridden city and never look back. Angelo could deal with Mitch. Or if Mitch ever woke, he could deal with Angelo.
What did it matter to me? Things would eventually sort themselves out with or without my involvement.
In the back of my mind, though, I heard Moon's voice again, just as clearly as if she were sitting with me. And I knew that I couldn't run. "You don't have to say it, Moon." I shook my head and got up from the steps. "I'll clean up my own mess."
The house was totally dark as I approached. I hoped Angelo was still out trying to get blood for Mitch; it would make my task a little bit easier. All I need to do, I thought as I unlocked the front door, is to load him into the chair and get him somewhere else. I would contact Victor afterward and make arrangements to return Mitch to New York, where his own kind could take care of him. It seemed like a reasonable plan, a safe plan.
The candles were lit on Moon's altar and Angelo sat cross-legged in front of it, chanting. The objects on the table, though, had been rearranged, jostled out of place by something new. Assuming it was probably the remains of the animal he had killed to get blood for Mitch, I moved closer to get a better look.
Not an animal, no, I thought as I approached. It was a sculpture, a representation of a human hand. I wondered what purpose it served. Did it give power of command? Strength? Invisibility?
I reached down to touch it. It was soft and flaccid, made of rubber or latex to simulate the feel of human flesh. I looked closer, and pulled back in shock when I saw the darkened and thickening pool the object rested in. It smelled of death; it was death. It was real.
"Jesus Christ, Angelo." I whirled around. "What the hell did you do?"
He kept chanting. I leaned down and slapped him hard across the face. His eyes focused on me and he smiled. "He was playin' possum the whole time, Lily. Not drugged, not sleepin'. Layin' there with them electric glowin' blue eyes, bidin' his time. He a smart one, oh, yeah. He was just waitin' for someone to open the door."
"So you cut off his hand?" I screamed at him. "What possible use could that have for anyone?"
"Ain't his hand. It Greg's hand."
"Greg's hand. I see. Now, just who the hel
l is Greg and where is the rest of him?"
Angelo laughed. "That's pretty funny, Lily. 'Where is the rest of him?' you ask." He leaned his head toward Moon's door. "In there."
"And Mitch?"
"He in there too. Probably had a good meal out of the young Greg."
I started to go to the door, then stopped. "Maybe you'd better tell me what happened before I go in."
"I go out to find a dog or somethin'. Like you told me to. I weren't lookin' for human blood. But I stumble across this young man, Greg. He been drinkin', oh, a good long time. And he say to me, 'You look like you live here, do you?'
"I figure he wants directions or somethin', so I nod. 'Long enough to help you out, young man. What you want?' So he introduces himself and tells me he's here in New Orleans for the first time. Always wanted to see the place, he say, so he takes off and comes down. But he's tired of the tourist places, he say, and he wants to see something real. 'Real?' I say. 'And what is real?'
" 'Voodoo or vampires,' he say. 'Either one will do.'
" 'Well, Greg,' I say, 'it just so happen that Bowlegged 'Lo can show you both—you come to the right man.' "
I looked at him in disbelief. "Or the wrong one. So then what happened?"
"I get the Greg man back here to the house. He pretty drunk still, but he slip me a hundred and say, 'Show me what you have, little man. And if it's good, I might pay more.'
"I laugh at him. 'It be good, don't you worry about that. Which do you want first?'
"He thinks. 'Voodoo,' he say.
"And so I do a little mumbo-jumbo for the man. Not the real stuff, he don't get that for what he payin'. But I light the candles and burn some incense, drop a few herbs on the fire. He get all nice and woozy and I make the fumes dance for him. Easy trick to show the tourists. Real impressive."
He stopped for a second and looked at me. "I teach you that one, Miss Lily. You got the power to move the smoke around, I sure."
Vampire Legacy 04 - Blood of My Blood Page 19
