Esther put a hand on her elbow. "One of the girls on the fifth floor was bit this morning," she told me.
Well, that explained the lack of children. "Be careful," I said. I looked back at the rifle. I'm sure it made them feel safer, but still, I hated to see these things done improperly.
"Those bullets . . ." I said, and paused. If they used silver bullets, what would happen to the vampires they hit? But then, what would happen to them when their mundane lead caused a sucker no more trouble than an insect bite? I held my peace and left quickly.
Catherine Lane was a street of precisely one block, sandwiched between Leonard and Worth like a slice of pastrami. The solitary tenement was otherwise surrounded by ware houses and empty lots, so at least my search was quickly narrowed. I approached the door with a certain amount of trepidation, given my reception on Leonard Street. I didn't want to get riddled with silver bullets for too closely resembling a twitchy vampire. But the doorway was deserted and the battered red oak doors were locked from the inside. I rattled them for a moment and then knocked loudly, but no one came. I couldn't hear anything but the sound of my own breath against the cold. The snow muffled the sounds of traffic on Lafayette, so it seemed, for a moment, that I'd been transported out of the city entirely. I'd gotten used to the constant hum of noise in New York. This sort of deep, fearful silence seemed more appropriate to the haunted edges of Yarrow than one of the most populous urban centers on earth. Faust did this in one night?
I cupped my hands over my mouth and called up. "Hey, is anyone there?"
Silence. It felt a little silly to be yelling at a building, but if what ever had happened here last Thursday had anything to do with Judah, then I had to find out about it.
I scuffled my feet in the snow and then began bouncing up and down to generate some warmth. Okay, try again. "I'm fully human, I promise. Zephyr Hollis. Maybe you've heard of me? I'm looking for information about a little boy."
I looked expectantly at the door. Well, damn, all I needed were some tumbleweeds blowing down the street. "This is really embarrassing," I muttered. Maybe I could just wait on the block until someone left. They couldn't stay in there forever.
"Hey, you!"
The door was still locked. I looked up and located the source of the voice: a second-floor window with crude graffiti above it. An old woman with iron curlers in her hair had pushed up her window and was leaning out into the street.
"You're that girl, right, the singing vampire suffragette?"
Well, at least now my face was warm. I just nodded. "I'm looking for the mother of a little boy. He was attacked around here on Thursday evening. Maybe the Turn Boys. Did you hear anything?"
The woman waved her hand in the air. "It's been a mess around here the past week, I don't mind telling you. Everyone's afraid to go out. Yeah, those damned kids of Rinaldo's were here last Thursday. Don't know what in hell they were up to, but it sure sounded nasty. All sorts of growling and screaming and laughing. Gave my granddaughter nightmares. I didn't know it was a little boy they got, though. Damn shame. You need someone to take the body, I guess?"
I hesitated. Suddenly, Amir's warning about what a dangerous and stupid thing I had done to save Judah came back to me. An eleven-year-old child. My God, even this old woman didn't imagine that he'd survived.
"That's right," I said. "Do you know anyone missing a child?"
She shook her head. "We were lucky none of our own got caught by those blood-mad suckers last night. Anyway, it sounded like Rinaldo's boys had been playing with him for a while." She clucked her tongue. "Heard them laughing and singing all the way down Lafayette. A little boy! It's too much, I tell you. No mother should have to deal with this. Her little boy staked and beheaded. I hope you find her. And if she needs some help, tell her to come to Catherine Lane."
She gave me a smart, almost soldierly nod, and I returned it. I recognized a kindred spirit when I saw one. "I will. Thanks for your help."
She closed her window and I turned to leave. It was clear Nicholas and the Turn Boys had stolen Judah someplace else and dumped him here. Well, that made South Ferry even more likely. I fetched my bicycle and slowly pedaled down Lafayette, looking in vain for any other clues. The Turn Boys were out of their territory here. I'd never heard of them attacking so far away from Little Italy. I'd almost think that they'd targeted Judah in particular, if I could think of any reason that a hardened gang would care about the fate of an eleven-year-old boy. That woman, Esther, on Leonard Street had thought Judah was a little too well-dressed for their part of town. She was probably right, now that I thought of it. Maybe the Turn Boys had targeted Judah--not because of a personal vendetta, but to let the more affluent residents of Lafayette and Park Row know that they were vulnerable. But in that case, why take the trouble to hide his body in an alley farther uptown?
I shook my head--and looked up just in time to see a firmly packed snowball sailing at my head. Ice crystals stung my cheek and eyelids, gritty snow filled my mouth. I spat and whirled around, but the children who'd pelted me were already screeching and running down the block. One of them looked back and waved.
"Damn kids," I said, and waved back. Just a few blocks away from the Leonard Street tenement, the atmosphere was noticeably less grim. I saw the reason immediately: the police were patrolling the streets around Elm and Park Row in unusual force this Sunday morning. I could hardly expect less for City Hall, of course. The precinct station was less than a block away, and the police tended to be quite good at protecting those who could afford to sweeten their salaries.
Like Judah's mother?
The precinct station was so crowded that the line of people waiting to get in had spilled into the street. Most of them had a familiar look: exhausted, harried, their clothes several years away from new and never stylish. I recognized shouted German and Yiddish and Russian and Italian mixed among the English. It seemed that the tenement residents farther uptown had decided to take their complaints about last night's disturbances directly to the source. As I pushed through the crowd I passed a man with a pale, almost jaundiced face, and a dirty handkerchief pressed to his neck. A woman stood beside him, fingering rosary beads and mumbling indecipherable prayers. I forced myself to look away--no one knew why some people were more susceptible to turning than others. But I'd been witness to that agonizing wait many times and had no wish to relive it.
At the front of the lobby, four police officers attempted to take statements. But the crowd up here had grown vocal with their impatience, and their angry shouts drowned out anything else.
"I told you, one of the suckers is still on our block! We're afraid to let the kids out, you've gotta--"
"Our daughter, she missing. You promise to--"
"But the Blood Bank is all out! How are we--"
Great. How the hell was I supposed to ask about Judah in this mess? At least I wouldn't have to worry about being discreet. In this press of people, the police officers would never remember me. I had maneuvered my way nearly to the front when I saw a familiar silhouette. She stood out against the lower-class crowd, if only because no thrift shops would ever sell a dress in such a bright shade of teal. And upon closer inspection, her whole ensemble--from suede heels to pert cloche hat--made her seem as at home among the tenement crowd as a fish in the Serengeti. She was taking notes while interviewing a young police officer who was markedly ill at ease. He eyed the mass of people in the station as though they might riot at any minute, or just crush him underfoot. His left hand rested firmly on the handle of his pistol.
Lily, of course, seemed entirely unaware of any of this.
"So how many people did you say have been attacked so far?" she asked, tapping her fountain pen against the edge of her reporter's notebook.
The police officer cleared his throat. "At least thirty reported here. More threats and sightings. It's been pretty bad."
"And, in your professional opinion, this is all attributable to that new vampire street-drug, Faust?"
I winced at the analogy. Lily just scribbled furiously. She seemed bizarrely . . . well, if not happy, then energized. She might not fit the scenery, but she clearly thrived on this type of disaster.
"I've heard rumors that Faust is being funneled through the notorious Italian mob boss, Rinaldo. Can you confirm that?"
The room seemed to grow immediately quieter, as though someone had muffled the roar with a giant wad of gauze.
The officer cleared his throat again. "I, ah, can't confirm that, no. There have been lots of rumors, right, and we can't say now where this stuff is coming from--"
But Lily wouldn't let up. "Isn't it true that most reports are coming from Little Italy and the immediate vicinity, which is, as I'm sure you know, controlled by Rinaldo and his gang?"
The people near me might be eavesdropping on Lily's interview, but behind us I could hear inarticulate shouting. The police officer craned his neck to look over the crowd.
"Listen, we don't know where this stuff is coming from. We're following leads."
Someone to my right shouted, "You're just afraid of that scum Rinaldo and his Turn Boys!" The officer flushed with embarrassment and gripped the handle of his gun. Even Lily seemed to notice this, but instead of getting nervous, she smiled. Goddamn, and I thought I lacked a sense of self-preservation.
The disturbance at the front of the station was getting louder now, and impossible to ignore. A man somewhere behind me was shouting loud enough to be heard over the din. "You're letting them in here? After what they did to us?"
A woman shrieked and a child started wailing. "She touched me, Jesus Christ, don't bite me, please I lost my husband--"
The rest of her plea was lost in a roar of inarticulate mob rage. The hapless police officer, lately the victim of an interrogation by Lily, crack reporter, tried to shout over the noise.
"Please, everyone, calm down. You're safe from Others in this--" He looked around, shook his head, and motioned to a nearby officer. "Christ. Galt, go get that damn sucker out of here. Don't know what the hell she's thinking."
Probably that she needed some help, just like everyone else. If this was a glimpse of what Faust would do to future human-Other relations, it made me furious. The officer fired his pistol into the ceiling, cracking off a bit of plaster. He plunged into the crowd a moment later. Lily made as if to chase after him, but I grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her behind the officer's desk. I could tell this was going to get ugly. Lily was too eager for her own damn good.
"Zephyr! I was hoping you'd come. I need a quote for my article."
I sighed. Better that than my inside source getting crushed to death by a mob. "Lily, you should be more careful. Angry crowd, terrified and armed police . . . it's not a stable combination."
Lily gave me what I suppose she thought was a contemptuous smile. "I know what I'm doing."
I just rolled my eyes and looked around for a back exit. We needed to get out of here; so much for my plan to find information about Judah. The crowd had surged to the left side of the station. They were yelling and spitting and shoving the few police officers to reach a huddled figure I could barely make out through the press of bodies. I wondered if we could edge along the wall until we reached the exit, but even the less crowded areas were too dense to make our way through.
"So, Zephyr Hollis, you're a well-known community figure. Who do you think is responsible for unleashing this horrifying drug?"
I looked back at her, incredulous. Didn't she see what was happening in here? "Who the hell do you think is responsible, Lily? The archduke of Prussia?"
A door on the opposite side of the room opened, letting in three more police officers. They each had a gun in one hand and a billy club in the other--clearly they weren't taking any chances with the situation. And neither was I.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please move to the back exit. We are clearing the station."
At first, no one listened, but a few intemperate smacks from billy clubs got their attention. Much as I abhor violence, I was grateful for the distraction. As the mob moved sluggishly toward the doorway, I saw just enough room for Lily and me to edge along the back wall to the side door.
"I'm not leaving," Lily said. "This is a scoop--"
"Fine, then scoop it from the doorway."
I stood up, grabbed her notebook and dragged her along behind me. Two shots, loud enough to make my ears ring, cracked the air. A shower of plaster fell onto my hair and shoulders. Lily shrieked, but she wasn't the only one.
"I said get back!"
"Take the bruxa!" The voice was male, but I couldn't see who owned it. I could, however, finally see the unfortunate vampire who had started this latest mess. She was pressed against a deputy's desk on the far left wall, frantically hitting anyone who came too close. Her skin was ash-gray and pulled so tight over her swollen joints I imagined I could hear them creaking. And yet I doubted she had been more than twenty when she turned. She needed blood, that much was obvious. The police officers surrounding part of the crowd looked at each other. One of them shrugged.
"Please leave the building. No humans or Others are permitted at this time."
A man dressed in dust-caked dungarees lunged forward to grab the vampire's arm. She cursed and jumped away with inhuman speed. He was left with a torn bit of her sleeve; she now stood on the desk. I stared at the police officers, waiting for them to take the vampire and shoo the crowd away. But when someone else lunged at her, they stayed back.
"What are they doing?" I asked, unable to believe what I was seeing.
Lily put a hand on my shoulder. "Letting them take her, I think."
To do what? Rip her limb from limb before feeding her pitiful exsanguinated corpse to the stray dogs? "Oh, fuck." I handed Lily back her notebook.
"Go through that door," I said, pointing to the one a few feet away. "Don't you dare follow me. If you wait, you'll get your damn scoop." One way or another. VAMPIRE SUFFRAGETTE DEFIES LYNCH MOB or MORON SQUASHED LIKE BUG IN POLICE HEADQUARTERS? I gave Lily a shove in the right direction and then launched myself at the crowd. They let me pass fairly easily, I'm not sure why. Maybe the grim expression on my face, or the silver blade I'd taken from beneath my skirt. I came upon a police officer a few seconds later.
"Don't you dare let this mob take that woman!" I yelled, loudly enough that few people paused to listen.
The man winced and wiped his forehead as though I'd spit on him. "She's no woman. And you try reasoning with these folks. Now get back."
He shoved me behind him and I stumbled to one knee. Several pairs of feet kicked me in the shins and ribs before I managed to stagger upright again. More gunshots cracked the air, but this time I couldn't even tell if they came from the police. Several people were lunging for the vampire, who just barely eluded them. This couldn't go on for much longer. She might be faster, but no vampire that weak and desperate could evade a mob of bloodthirsty humans for long.
Well, just how stupid are you, Zephyr?
"Bastards!" the woman yelled. "Bastard police! You'll let them do this!" Someone rocked the desk.
Very, very stupid.
I let out a roar and shoved my way forward, pushing and stomping on anyone in my path. I didn't hesitate; I jumped onto the desk with the vampire and prayed that she wouldn't choose this moment to retaliate against her attackers. She didn't. She just stared at me. "Help?" she said.
I nodded and waved the knife at the crowd.
"Look at her! She's just like you. She has nothing to do with Faust and what happened last night. If you kill her, it's simple murder. But since some of you seem to have left your moral compasses at home, I'll make it simple. It's definitely murder to kill me. I'm still human."
"Give her up! We don't want to hurt you."
I laughed. "Well, I think that's the point. You're going to have to
."
My gamble seemed to be working. The almost palpable anger of the crowd was slowly turning to confusion. People murmured among themselves. Even the police lowered their pistols with looks of obvious relief.
"Hey," said a woman close to the front of the crowd, "that's that girl. The one who teaches night school."
One of the police officers laughed. "Hey, vampire suffragette, sing us a song, why don't you?"
"A duet!"
The police knew about my singing debut? I guess Horace made sure to pay off everyone. "I don't give out songs for free, boys."
A few people laughed, but most were letting themselves be pushed through the double doors, back onto the street. After a few moments I jumped off the desk and held my hand up to the vampire to help her down. Out of danger, she'd begun to shake so badly I thought she might crack her brittle bones.
"Th-thank you," she said. Her accent was faintly Italian.
"How long has it been since you fed?"
She shook her head. "Tuesday. But, you see . . ." She looked carefully at me, and then drew the scarf from around her shoulders. When she pushed back the fabric, the problem was evident: a silver bullet, lodged beside her shoulder blades. Not enough to exsanguinate immediately, but enough to weaken her to death. Unless she got proper treatment, which certainly wasn't going to happen at an Other-phobic police station or hospital.
"Who did that?"
"Someone in my neighborhood. I didn't see who. They saw me walking and shot . . . I didn't know what to do."
There's vigilante justice for you. Lily, having decided that the situation was safe enough to ignore my warnings, approached the two of us.
"Well, never a boring moment with you around, is there?" She grinned and then ostentatiously kissed her reporter's notebook. "Gold, I tell you. Zephyr, you and I make a peachy team."
I returned the smile. "And I'm sure your paper loves human interest stories."
"What, sucker bites man? I already have plenty of that, thanks."
"Oh no, how about man shoots sucker with silver bullet? A few tenements have organized themselves into armed militias. Silver bullets and itchy trigger fingers, Lily. Along with some definitive information about where Faust is coming from."
Moonshine: A Novel Page 14
