Blood Kiss

by Evangeline Anderson

  “Mikey! So good to see you.” She was wearing a neat blue dress that matched the faded blue of her eyes behind her old-fashioned glasses. The diamond rings I saw glittering on her fingers were too large and vulgar to be anything but real. “And your, uh…friend too,” she added, giving me a very disapproving once-over. “But, Mikey, bubela, what happened to you?”

  I suddenly realized what we must look like to her. Michael was bare-chested, wearing only his tattered and dirty scrub pants and a pair of sneakers. I had on my slaying suit which looked kinky at the best of times because it’s tight, black, form-fitting vinyl. And it was a lot worse for the wear at the moment.

  “It’s kind of a long story.” Michael looked at her appealingly. “But we don’t have much time. This is Kate, by the way. She’s my, uh, friend.”

  Mrs. Lebowitz eyed me again. “Well, any friend of Mikey’s…”

  “Thanks,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Well come in, come in.” She ushered us into the cool dim interior of the house which appeared to be decorated entirely in early America crochet. Michael sat down on a lumpy brown sofa that was covered with a garish orange, yellow, and red throw that was obviously handmade. I sat gingerly beside him.

  “Now what seems to be the problem?” Mrs. Lebowitz settled herself in a chair opposite us that had a fat pink and purple cushion on its seat. A huge Persian cat with a flat, smashed in face and orange fur jumped into her lap immediately and began a rusty purr. The cat was so big and the woman was so small, she almost had to look up over its back to speak to us.

  “Well—” Michael began but she interrupted him almost at once.

  “Did you have your teeth done, Mikey?” She gestured at her own teeth which were obviously dentures. “They look so bright and…well, so sharp.”

  “Uh…” Michael put a hand to his mouth but before he could answer she was talking again.

  “Tea. We need some tea. Or would you rather have coffee?” She glanced at me uncertainly.

  “Mrs. Lebowitz, we really don’t have much time,” Michael began.

  “Coffee,” I said to her. “Strong and black. Please.”

  “Be right back.” She pushed at the huge cat which didn’t want to be dislodged from her lap. “Bad pussy!” she scolded. “Get off me now—you’re shedding everywhere. Bad, hairy pussy!’

  I saw Michael hiding a grin and I couldn’t help smothering a laugh myself as Mrs. Lebowitz bustled out of the room. As soon as she was safely gone, I leaned over and whispered to Michael,

  “What are we doing at your neighbor’s house?”

  “Finding out if anyone has been in my house,” he said, nodding through the picture window behind the couch to the tidy bungalow across the street. “Believe me, if anyone has, Mrs. Lebowitz will know it. She has nothing to do all day but crochet and watch the neighbors. She knows everything that happens on this entire block.”

  “So how did you get so close to her, Mikey?” I asked. “Was she a friend of your parents or something?”

  He shook his head. “No, my parents left me the house but they were long gone by the time she came to the neighborhood. She and her husband retired down here from New York a couple of years ago and he died almost immediately. Sad.”

  “So you keep her company?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

  He shrugged. “She’s nosy but she’s sweet. Kinda reminds me of my grandma, you know? So I try to come over here if I have any spare time and help her out. Paint the house, clean the gutters.” He grinned. “Rescue pussy when she climbs up a tree.”

  “I bet,” I said dryly but inside I was thinking that he was a genuinely nice guy. Just the kind of guy my Uncle Harry always wanted me to meet. Too bad he was a vampire. But even if he hadn’t been, I wasn’t exactly nice-guy-girlfriend material—I’m a little too rough around the edges for that.

  “Here we go.” Mrs. Lebowitz bustled back into the living room with a steaming pot of black coffee in a genuine sterling silver tea service. There was a silver bowl full of sugar cubes with some little silver tongs to pick them up, a little silver cream pot, and even a big silver tray to serve it all off of. At least the cups were china. She set the tray down in front of us and began to pour while the big orange cat twined itself around her ankles.

  “Bad pussy,” she scolded, setting the first cup in front of me. “You’re going to make me fall. Get out from between my legs!”

  I saw Michael smother another smile. He was reaching for the silver tongs that went with the sugar bowl.

  “Michael,” I started, but he had already picked them up. Well, maybe he could stand silver too. If he could walk in the sunlight, that wouldn’t be any big surprise.

  “Ouch!” Michael dropped the tongs on the somewhat cat-hairy carpet as though he’d been burned. And in fact, he had. I grabbed his hand and looked at it, watching as what looked like a third degree burn in the shape of the sugar tongs’ handle slowly faded from his skin. So much for that theory.

  “Oh dear!” Mrs. Lebowitz looked concerned. “Did you hurt yourself, Mikey?”

  “Uh, yeah.” He started to reach for the tongs, remembered that he couldn’t and looked at me appealingly. I reached over him and grabbed the tongs, putting them back on the tray. I could see a long wisp of cat hair clinging to their pointy ends and I was glad I liked my coffee black with no sugar.

  “What happened?” she demanded, peering at his hand.

  “Nothing.” He pulled it back quickly and hid it behind his other arm. “I, uh, pinched myself with your tongs. You know, I really don’t think I want to drink coffee right now—I’m trying to cut down on my caffeine intake. But could I have a glass of water? I’m really thirsty.”

  “Of course, of course.” Mrs. Lebowitz went for the water at once, like a woman on a mission.

  “What happened to me?” Michael demanded the minute she was gone.

  I examined the hairy tongs for a moment before replacing them. “Must be a high silver content in this tea service. You’re a vamp—you had a severe allergic reaction to it.”

  “But those cuffs you had on me were silver—weren’t they? Why didn’t those burn?”

  I shrugged. “Because they weren’t as pure—silver mixed with steel. Sterling silver can’t be used for weapons and restraints because even though it’s pure, it’s too soft. You need a harder base metal to temper it with.”

  He frowned at me. “So now I can’t touch silver?”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “This is a big problem for you? Do you have a lot of silver body piercings or something?”

  “No.” He sighed. “It’s just…weird.”

  “Get used to it,” I advised him. “Remember the way you were able to lift that dumpster over your head?”

  He nodded.

  “Well this is the flip side of the coin,” I told him. “You get the strength but you also get the weaknesses.” I didn’t want to speculate on what other weaknesses he might have. Just then Mrs. Lebowitz came in with a big glass of ice water.

  “Thanks.” Michael took it from her gratefully and gulped thirstily. “That really hit the spot.”

  “Now.” Mrs. Lebowitz settled herself in her chair again and poured herself a cup of coffee. I was relived to see she didn’t use the tongs. “What seems to be the problem, Mikey? And how did you get in such a state?” She gestured at his ragged pants and bare chest and I saw her eyes flick disapprovingly at me too. I sighed. I might as well have ‘bad girl’ stamped on my forehead as far as Michael’s nice elderly neighbor was concerned.

  “I had a run in with some guys at church,” Michael said, truthfully enough.

  “Oh my, at church?” She put a hand to her heart and leaned forward. “Oy—how terrible.”

  “It was.” He nodded. “It really was. But Mrs. Lebowitz, here’s the thing—I think they might have been after something—a, uh, emerald ring my mother left me.”

  “Gracious!” Mrs. Lebowitz caressed her own diamond rings which ranged over her ar
thritic fingers like glittering gum balls. I gave Michael a sidelong glance, admiring his instant fiction.

  “Anyway, I was worried that they might have come to the house to look for it there,” he continued. “So I need to know if you’ve seen anybody suspicious around my house in the last day or so. Anyone at all.”

  “Oh, dear.” She shook her head. “You know, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone who didn’t belong. There was a City of Tampa utilities truck parked down the way in front of the Sanderson’s house along about dawn this morning, but I think it was just the meter reader. Other than that and the neighborhood kids running around, I haven’t seen a thing. And I know I would have noticed—I was up all night with my lumbago.”

  Michael gave me a ‘told you so’ look and rose from the couch. I followed him to the door. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Lebowitz. Oh, and you know how I was all set to go on vacation in a few days?”

  She nodded her puffy white-haired head and joined us in the doorway. “Of course and you don’t have to worry about a thing, Mikey. I’m going to be getting your mail and paper every day.”

  “Well, it’s just that I’m going to be leaving a little bit early. Today, actually. So do you think you could…?”

  “Of course, of course.” She nodded vigorously, her glasses flashing with the movement. “But are you still going to Italy? Or have you changed your plans?”

  I caught Michael’s eye and shook my head slightly.

  “Well actually, I’m going to, uh…California. Hollywood. Beth finally landed a role in one of the soap operas over there and she wanted me to come celebrate with her,” he said.

  “Oh, which one? I watch them all.” Mrs. Lebowitz looked at him with avid interest.

  Michael shrugged apologetically. “You know, I can’t remember. I’m terrible with that kind of thing. But I’ll give her your love if you want.”

  “Of course. That Beth—so talented!” She reached for him. “If you’re going so far away, better give me a kiss for luck, bubela.”

  Michael leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on her frail wrinkled cheek. “Be careful around here for a while, okay?” he said. “If those men come around you call the police right away. Don’t try to tangle with them yourself.”

  “Of course not!” She kissed him back and gave him an anxious look. “And you be careful too, Mikey. Don’t worry while you’re gone. I’ll keep an eye on everything for you.”

  He grinned at her. “I know you will, Mrs. Lebowitz. I count on it.”

  “It was nice meeting you,” I said politely as we stepped out the door. “Thanks for the coffee—it was delicious.”

  She gave me a sharp glance. “You’re very welcome young lady. And just you take care of my Mikey wherever it is you two are really going. He’s a good boy and I wouldn’t want to see him get hurt.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” I said, startled by her sudden insight. Maybe she wasn’t quite as clueless as she appeared. Just then the big orange cat tried to squeeze out the door between our legs and she had to make a grab for it.

  We left as she was scolding her bad pussy for trying to escape and went across the street to Michael’s house.

  Chapter Ten

  “Five minutes,” I told him, the moment I had finished my sweep of his small but tidy bungalow and made sure there were no baddies hiding in the closets. “I don’t care what Mrs. Lebowitz says, we don’t need to be hanging around somewhere they’ll expect you to show up.”

  “Can I at least have a shower?” He glanced down at himself with distaste. “I mean, I’m a mess here. I really don’t want to start a road trip looking like this.”

  “Can you take a two minute shower?” I asked him. He was gone into the bathroom before I could finish getting the words out. Well, cleanliness was next to godliness. I wouldn’t have minded a shower or a change of clothes myself but I wasn’t going to get either.

  While he showered, I wandered around his bedroom which was done in utilitarian blues and greens. It’s funny how much you can learn about a person by looking at their things. His bed was made and he had a laundry hamper that was half full in one corner and some landscapes that looked like he’d actually thought about them hanging on the walls. Or maybe a girlfriend had picked them out?

  On the solid oak dresser, I saw a pile of photos sticking out of a yellow sleeve. I picked them up. Most of them appeared to be of Michael and a petite blond girl laughing and hugging each other. I was surprised and appalled at the spear of jealousy that lanced through me. So what if he had a girlfriend? It wasn’t like I was interested in applying for the position.

  “That’s Beth.” His voice behind me startled me and I turned to see him naked from the waist up. There was a dark blue towel wrapped around his narrow hips and beads of water clung to his broad shoulders. His blondish-brown hair was wet and combed back from his high forehead and his deep green eyes glowed softly in the dim room. He looked mouthwatering.

  “Who’s Beth?” I said, putting down the pictures and taking a step back to put some distance between us.

  He grinned, flashing just a hint of fang. “My little sister. She’s out in Hollywood trying to make it big. After my parents died in a car accident, that’s what she did with her part of the insurance.”

  “And you went to medical school,” I said.

  He shrugged. “I like to help people. Look, do you want a shower?”

  I did but there wasn’t much point in getting one. “We don’t really have time and besides, I don’t have anything but this to wear.” I looked with distaste down at my sweaty, ripped vinyl suit. I should have packed a change of clothes along with everything else in my emergency kit in the Charger’s trunk but I had never thought about it. Now I wished I had.

  “Go ahead and grab a quick shower if you want.” Michael was already digging in his closet, the towel hanging dangerously low on his muscular hips. He had nice legs too, I noticed, before I made myself look away. “I think I have some things Beth left here that you can wear,” he said. “Knock on the door when you’re ready and I’ll hand them in to you.”

  I glanced at my watch and thought, what the hell. A shower sounded good and he was right—the idea of starting a thousand mile long road trip wearing my dirty slaying suit was not appealing.

  The hot water felt wonderful and I was glad to see that the wound on my shoulder had already healed enough to take off the gauze bandage. But the liquid heat beating down on my head made me feel like my eyelids had been dipped in lead. It had been a long night and everything that had happened was beginning to catch up with me. I felt so sleepy after I got out that I wished I could just lie down and take a nap. That wasn’t going to work, however, unless I wanted to wake up dead. Which I didn’t.

  I forced myself awake by splashing cold water on my face. When I knocked on the bathroom door, Michael handed me a bundle of clothing just as he’d promised. And that was what really woke me up.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, stepping out of the bathroom and pointing to the monstrosity he had given me to wear. It was a strapless sundress with a stretchy elastic top, like the kind your mom buys you to wear when you’re nine. I guessed that I was bigger than Beth because it didn’t even cover my knees and the top was stretched so tight against my breasts you could see my nipples. I don’t wear a bra under my slayer suit because it has built in support—I designed it myself and it works really well. But that meant I felt next to naked in the stretchy tube-top halter dress Michael had given me.

  But worse than the ridiculous little girl design and the serious lack of coverage was the color. I mean, the dress was pink. I never wear pink. It’s against my whole philosophy which basically states—‘kill vamps, watch your ass, don’t ever wear pink.’ See? It’s right in there. So you can understand why I was less than thrilled with my current fashion statement.

  “Don’t you have anything else?” I asked, motioning to myself. Besides the hideous color, it looked ridiculous with my knee-high black boots.

&n
bsp; Michael shrugged and I could see him trying to hide a grin. “Sorry, that’s what Beth left. I, uh, think Mrs. Lebowitz gave it to her as a gift.”

  “It’s horrible,” I said flatly.

  “Yeah.” He grinned. “Why do you think she left it?”

  “Very funny.” I was tempted to march back into the bathroom and change back into my slayer suit. But when I looked at the sweaty, crumpled black bundle in my hand, I knew I couldn’t do it. I was stuck running for my life in a pink sundress. Surely hell couldn’t be any worse than this.

  Michael was wearing a pair of comfortable looking faded blue jeans and a black tee shirt that hugged his chest and shoulders nicely. He had changed from sneakers to black hiking boots that looked both tough and comfortable and he was carrying a brown leather jacket along with an overnight bag he’d apparently packed in the three minutes it had taken me to take my shower. Fast guy.

  “How come you look like something out of an Abercrombie and Fitch ad and I look like Strawberry Shortcake?” I asked.

  “You don’t look like Strawberry Shortcake,” he said, smiling. “I’m pretty sure she never wore black leather boots with her dress.” He cocked his head to one side. “Actually, it’s kind of hot in a perverse sort of way.”

  “Perverted is more like it,” I said. “Actually—” The sound of shattering glass cut me off. Then I heard the grating noise of a little used window being forced up. Michael and I looked at each other silently.

  Someone was breaking into his house.

  Chapter Eleven

  I put a finger to my lips and reached for the Glock, which I’d left on the bed while I showered. Whoever it was, they couldn’t be a vamp so it was most likely a thrall. I didn’t want to put a bullet in them—as I said, it’s a pain getting rid of the body. But I would if I had to.

  Michael let me take the lead but he stayed close behind me. I could feel his big body at my back radiating heat like a protective furnace. The sound was coming from his kitchen and I had the gun cocked and ready to shoot. We came around the corner and saw a thin, rat-faced teenaged girl halfway through the window that was directly over the kitchen sink. She hadn’t managed to open the window very far after she’d unlocked it and she was struggling grimly to get through and into the kitchen.