“I’ve been having an issue with a stalker for the past few months at school.”
“Grr. Seriously? You didn’t say anything.”
“Yeah, well… I don’t want to abuse our friendship. Dude has been following me around campus. Figured he’d go away when the semester ended, but he somehow found where I live. He’s sitting outside my house right now watching me from his car. Or… watching the house.”
I close my eyes. Dammit, Ash. Tell me about this shit as soon as it starts. Again, I stare at the reliquary. No way am I bringing this thing anywhere near Ash or she’ll end up like John. Can’t leave it at my house—I don’t want to know what kind of unholy freakin’ ridiculous nonsense mixing this thing with my family would cause—and I’d never be able to un-live with myself if anything happened to Ashley in the ten-to-fifteen minutes it would take me to deliver the reliquary to Wolent’s manor house—and that’s assuming I drop it like a bomb at Aziz without landing. My luck, I’d miss and it would shatter, freeing all the souls inside. Screw it. Back in the trunk you go.
Whump. I shut the lid.
“What are you doing?” asks John.
“Emergency. My friend’s in trouble. Stay here and keep an eye on it. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“He’s still there,” whispers Ashley in a timid whine. “I’m scared.”
“Hang on. I’m coming.” I leap into the air. “This is gonna sound crazy, but if the guy gets out of the car before I’m there, call Sam and tell him to send the dog over.”
“Uhh, you guys have a dog?”
“Kind of. Just… trust me. If that guy opens the door, either call Sam or go out the back door if you can and get to my backyard. Dog’s name is Max. He understands English.”
Grumbling, I aim toward home and push myself as fast as I can fly.
22
Fast Becoming Normal
I cruise in over Ashley’s house roughly five minutes later.
Travel in straight lines has really spoiled me for commuting purposes. Driving home from downtown would’ve taken about a half hour. I angle into a dive, heading for an unfamiliar dingy white Chrysler parked in front of her house. Thing’s gotta be fifteen years old. I land far enough behind the car to avoid him spotting me drop out of the air. Even from this distance, dude is giving off serious creep vibes.
“Old as hell white car?” I say into the phone.
“That’s him.” Ashley emits a shuddering whisper. “He’s just sitting there, staring at the house. So damn creepy.”
“Okay. I got it.”
“What are you gonna do?”
“Make him forget you exist. Maybe give him an irresistible urge to drive to Orlando.”
“Uhh, why Orlando?”
I shrug. “Dunno. Florida is really damn far away from Washington and everyone uses Miami. Trying not to be so overused.”
She emits a nervous laugh.
“Okay, gonna hang up now. See you in a few minutes.”
“’Kay. Thanks.”
Sometimes, being a higher order predator is amazingly helpful.
I sneak up to the car without him noticing me. Not in the mood for a chase scene right now. Maybe he wouldn’t drive off simply from seeing me. I’m not the most intimidating critter in the world, unless anger makes my eyes glow red.
His window’s open, making it easy for me to grab and pull him out of the car, then pin him against it, bracing my arm across the front of his throat. He lets off a strangled noise part scream of surprise part yell of ‘WTF.’ Guy’s mid-twenties, pale, super-short buzzed hair like an Army recruit. Smells like cheese puffs, cheap beer, and laziness. He’s either had this Hilfiger sweatshirt since he was fourteen or he got it from a thrift store.
Shock fades, flashing to anger. He grabs my shoulders, but I’m in his head before he can shove me away. The intent to erase and replace memories falls out of my proverbial hands and shatters on the floor at the sight waiting for me in between this creep’s ears. Among flashes of an entire bedroom wall covered in photos of my best friend and various moments of him pleasuring himself to said photos, the overriding thought at the tip of his mind shows through, clear and horrifying. He’s been sitting here for the last hour trying to get up the nerve to proceed with his plan to break into the house and kidnap her.
He hadn’t been hesitating out of guilt, decency, or anything like that. No… the only reason his ass stayed in the seat as long as it did was fear of being seen by a neighbor and caught. He didn’t fully trust being able to pull it off without Ashley screaming so loud someone saw him. The past fifteen minutes, he’d been beating himself up mentally for deciding against getting an out-of-state rental car. Not wanting to leave a paper trail is why he drove his car here. He’s planning to take her to a cabin out in the forest where he’s picturing Ashley becoming his ‘wife.’ The place is already set up to keep her captive with a lockable room, barred windows, and even a leash. He already considers her ‘his’ to take. The bag in the passenger seat is his ‘marriage kit.’ Rope, duct tape, handcuffs, his attempt at homemade chloroform, scissors to get rid of her clothes while she’s tied up.
His plan: keep his wife as long as he can before ‘circumstances force him to kill her.’
His reality: way, way, different.
Next thing I know, the guy’s on Ashley’s lawn and there’s blood all over my fist. It’s possible I shouted something along the lines of ‘you sick freak!’ but the scream might only have occurred in my mind. I’m shaking from revulsion and rage. Tears won’t stop. So messed up. I’m not an angry-cry type person. What the fuck is wrong with people?
“You killed him,” says John Trujillo.
I’m so freaked out by the contents of that bastard’s head, I don’t even jump, merely cut my gaze left at the spirit.
“I think I wanted to hit him… not kill him.”
“Oh, you definitely killed him. His face exploded.” John pantomimes swinging a two-handed weapon down on something. “Ever hear of Gallagher? That guy with the watermelons and the sledgehammer?”
Wince. “No, but I get the point.”
“More a large blunt object than a point.”
“Grr. Not helping. Crap. I didn’t mean to kill him.”
“You don’t sound too sorry about it.”
“And you don’t sound too alarmed by it… officer.”
He chuckles. “I’m off duty right now. And you are a vampire. Trying to arrest you wouldn’t work out too well for me.”
I smirk. “I’m kinda not alarmed by killing him. You didn’t see what he was going to do to Ash. And hey, you’re not watching the reliquary.”
“Watch is about all I’d be able to do. Ghost, remember?” He swishes his hand through me a few times.
“Ugh.”
The front door opens. Ashley, still dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, runs outside and over to me, platter-eyed. “Oh, my gawd! You… you…”
I go to grab her by the shoulders and look her in the eye, but my right hand’s a bloody mess, so I only grip her left shoulder. “Yeah. I did. And Ash, trust me. It’s the best outcome. Even if I sent him to Florida, he’d have come back. This dude was gonna seriously hurt you.”
She covers her face in both hands. “Not sure how to feel about you killing someone.”
I pull her close, patting her back, and realize I’m still shaking from anger. “If you saw into his head what he planned to do… I don’t even know what happened. Just… pure rage and horror.”
“What was he going to do?” She peers between her fingers at me, tears streaming from her huge blue eyes.
Ashley looks way too innocent to hear stuff like this. It’s easy to forget my sweet and wholesome best-friend-almost-sister is an adult. She surrounds herself in unicorns and girly stuff, but she’s probably got the darkest sense of humor between me, her, and Michelle. She’s also had sex with Aurélie, is into kinky stuff, and actually a lot more mature mentally than she appears to be.
Still, I can’t he
lp but see her as an innocent kid. Not sure if it’s because we grew up together or I’m a vampire now.
“That bad?” She shivers.
I bow my head. “He was going to kidnap you tonight, keep you as long as he could as his ‘wife’ in some isolated cabin in the woods, then ultimately kill you once he felt it had become too difficult to avoid you escaping, him getting caught, or being separated from you.”
“Jesus,” whispers John. “If this dude’s ghost shows up, I’m going to kick his ass again. Scrawny little bastard.”
Ashley nods once, swipes her hair off her face, then forces herself to stop crying. “I didn’t expect you to kill him, but I’m not complaining you did. Just wanna put it out there. Yes, I will probably freak the hell out in about an hour when it sinks in. This guy sat right behind me for weeks in class. Ugh. I’m starting to feel sick wondering what he was thinking, staring at me.”
“Understood. Figured you had a garden variety creeper, not a serious wacko.” I frown at the corpse. “So, umm… any idea how to get rid of a body? This is my first murder.”
“Umm.” Ashley blinks.
“Well, technically second. Old guy at the funeral home. But he was a killer, too. Also, didn’t mean to break his neck either.”
John’s eyebrows go up. “What happened?”
“Guy kidnapped these two boys I know. Snuck up behind me. I meant to knock him out, but… old man. Brittle neck bones.”
“Ahh.”
Ashley bites her lip. “Feed him to pigs? Get a plastic kiddie pool and put acid in it? Gotta use plastic ’cause the kind of acid that’ll eat a body away to nothing dissolves a normal bathtub. Or, cut it into a dozen pieces, put each one in a different bag and drop them randomly over a fifty-mile area?”
I stare at her in total shock—as does John.
“What?” She blinks.
“Damn, girl,” I whisper.
“I watch a lot of crime shows.” She flashes a brittle smile.
Shaking my head, I go collect the body. Leaving him sprawled out on the front lawn is a bad idea. And, ack! No wonder John knew he died. The whole front of this guy’s face is mashed in like he took a header off a speeding motorcycle into a concrete post. A strip of skin about as wide as my fist—and his nose—is simply gone. Damn. Going to need to find that before some dog does. Blood and such oozes from his face as I carry him to the street and stuff him into the trunk of his Chrysler.
Ashley watches me, silent the whole time. She jumps slightly at the whump of the trunk closing.
“Let me make a quick call.” I pull my phone out.
“Whoa.” Ashley blinks. “Since when do you ‘have people’ to call to get rid of bodies like Pulp Fiction?”
“It would be hilarious if this guy’s name was Marvin,” says John.
I chuckle. “No, I don’t ‘have people’. Just looking for advice.”
And sigh. I shouldn’t be this casual about killing someone, even a complete piece of psycho shit like this guy. Wait. Vampire. Right.
Almost forgot.
23
Innocent and Sweet
While Ashley grabs a hose to disperse the puddle of blood on her front lawn, I pace around, waiting for Aurélie to answer the phone.
“Allo, cheri. To what do I owe the pleasure of your voice tonight?”
“Ever see something so disturbing, so horrifying, so infuriating, you lost control and killed someone?”
“Oui. It ’appens more often than you might expect, though not recently. Talk to me, cheri. What ’appened? You sound upset.”
I explain the situation. Hopefully, the PIBs pulled me off the NSA cell phone monitoring program. Or hopefully, it’s only a conspiracy theory.
“Ahh. And they say we are the diabolical creatures.” She tsks. “You did the right thing, cheri.”
“Is it lame I feel guilty about it? Just a little, but I do.”
“Yes. It is natural for you.”
“Umm. For me or for Innocents?”
She snickers. “I suspect both, but more so you personally. You acted in defense of one you love.”
“So, it doesn’t mean I’m sliding away from being human and falling into darkness?”
She laughs. Like legit laughs for a good twenty seconds. “Oh, no, cheri. You ’ave been watching too many movies. Some of our kind may lose their minds, but there is no ‘creeping darkness sneaking up on our souls.’ Some merely cannot ’andle existing for so long. The gift does not change who we are, it brings our true natures forward and more vibrant, accentuating what already exists.”
Great. Vampirism is MSG.
Still, good to know I’m not becoming a cold-hearted killer. Of course, this means I always had it in me to kill a bitch to protect Ash. However, non-vampire me wouldn’t have splattered a guy’s face from one punch. I’d probably have ended up hogtied in the trunk right next to her.
“Cool. Thanks. One more question. Any idea what I can do with the inevitable aftereffects? Don’t want to leave litter on her lawn.”
“Does it appear to be the obvious work of vampires?” asks Aurélie.
“It appears to be the obvious work of a sledgehammer to the nose.”
John laughs.
“… and probably a broken neck,” I add. “Ooh, wait. I have an idea. I can make it look like a car accident.”
“That may work, cheri. Be careful and do not burn yourself.”
“Will do. Thanks.”
“Night!” chirps Aurélie, as though I called her to ask about a recipe for cake.
“Seriously?” John walks up to me. “Fake a car accident?”
“Yeah. That, I’ve done before.”
“Truth,” calls Ashley over the splatter of watering the lawn. “But the bastard deserved it.”
John gawks at me. “Wow. You look so innocent and sweet.”
I chuckle. “Thanks. Normally, I am innocent and sweet.”
“Lies!” yells Ashley in a mocking tone.
This is normal Ash, but it worries me so soon after what happened. She’s either in denial or showing entirely too little reaction to watching me paste a dude. I catch eye contact and peek. Yeah, denial. Plus overwhelming relief she no longer has to worry about this guy grabbing her. Plus her brain rejecting the notion she sat so close to someone who planned to kill her after months or years of horror. Good freakin’ grief. She’s been shitting bricks about this guy since March and never told me. Grr. This is what I get for promising not to look in her head randomly.
Oops. Broke the promise. But I claim extenuating circumstances.
Anyway, she seems to be so happy to be free of dread she’s not processing the reality of death. She is a lot tougher than she looks, so maybe there’s no need for me to worry about her.
“Not my first staged car fire, by the way.” I wag my eyebrows. “First one was a vampire, though.”
Ashley, having put the hose away, walks over. “Shame to waste the car though.”
“You can’t be serious.” I point at a big rust hole by the left rear tire. “It’s a POS. That car’s probably older than we are.”
“Looks like an ’82 LeBaron,” says John.
I exhale. “Yep. Older than us.”
He quirks an eyebrow at me. “You said you’re older than you look.”
“I am. My real age is nineteen.” I sigh into a grumble. “Not fourteen. Only been a vamp for a year.”
“Yeah, but still. The car didn’t do anything wrong.” Ash pats it on the roof.
“Hmm. Maybe I could fly the guy up high and drop him. Make it look like he fell off a building?” I cringe. “Nah. Might hit someone, plus people would be forced to witness it—and clean up.”
Ashley snaps her fingers. “Hey, why not drop him in the ocean way off where he won’t drift back to shore?”
“Not a bad idea.” I whistle. “Wow, this is seriously messed up. We haven’t discussed doing anything this bad since that time we wanted to sneak in to see Kick Ass at the theater when we were ele
ven.”
“Umm, Sare, disposing of a body is a little worse than trying to get around an R-rating on a movie.”
“I know, but…” I scowl at the car. “It’s not like I killed a human being.”
She hugs me. “Sorry. I should’ve told you about him months ago, but I didn’t know if he was really dangerous or just creepy. The guy followed me around school. Sometimes I thought I saw him trying to take pictures.”
“Umm, yeah. He did. Speaking of…” I gotta grab the dude’s wallet, find his address, and remove all traces of Ashley from his apartment. Don’t need her being dragged into any investigation if the cops start looking for him.
“Speaking of what?” She tilts her head.
“Gotta delete you from his apartment or wherever he’s living. His bedroom is wallpapered in your face.”
“Eww.” She shivers.
“If anything like this ever happens again, tell me.” I exhale out my nostrils. Talk about mixed emotions. If she’d mentioned him right away and I confronted him before he had this elaborate kidnap, slave, murder plan developed, my reaction would’ve been to make him forget Ashley—but he’d most certainly have eventually fixated on some other woman. And the odds of his next target having a vampire BFF are minimal. It really bothers me to think this, but this situation probably worked out to the best ending possible.
“Okay.” Ashley holds the hose out to rinse my hand. “I just didn’t want to seem like I’m trying to take advantage of your powers or anything.”
“It’s fine. Take advantage. It’s like everything else for the past thirteen years. My toys are your toys. I’m here for you. Friends will always help you. True friends help you hide the bodies.”
She smirks. “Did you read that on a T-shirt?”
“No, a coffee mug.” I wink.
Ashley snickers. “Dork. It’s not supposed to be literal.”
“I’m not asking you to help me hide the body.” I pull the car door open. Might as well deal with it now.
Vampire Innocent | Book 12 | Ancient Vampire Death Cults & Other Annoyances Page 20