Momentarily blinded, Bubba fell backward, crashing down through a couple of limbs before hitting the ground. He wasn’t bothered much by the fall, and he grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck, jerking it from his face.
“You ought not’ve done that, kitty cat,” Bubba said. He’d forgotten all potential danger now. He couldn’t think about anything but the cat. “I’m gonna have you for supper.”
The cat writhed and howled, but Bubba held it fast. He grabbed hold of its hind legs with his left hand and flipped it backward. It clawed at him with its front legs, but Bubba just snatched them in his right hand.
“Now then, you brindle scoundrel,” Bubba said, as his fangs extruded.
Then there was a lot of hissing and howling, but it didn’t come from the cat, which was free and running faster than it ever had before. It disappeared into the trees.
The hissing and howling came from Bubba, who writhed on the ground and tore at the silver mesh that had been flung around him. He gave it up after a minute or two and looked up at the two vampires who’d captured him.
“What the hell was he about to do?” asked one of them.
“Looked like he was gonna drain that cat,” said the other.
“Ewwwww.”
“Yeah. What kind of animal drains cats? It don’t seem right.”
“I guess we need to get him secured a little better,” the shorter one said, pulling another silver net from a backpack with heavily gloved hands.
“Ummbitch,” Bubba said, his voice muffled by the net.
“Now, don’t you go cussin’ us. You’re the one trespassin’ on the estate of the King of Mississippi. Mr. Edgington don’t like trespassers, ’specially not when he’s got other guests.”
“You know something, Earl?” the taller vampire said.
“I know plenty, Oscar. I got a high school education, you know.”
“That ain’t what I mean.” Oscar pointed at Bubba. “Don’t he look like somebody?”
“Ever’body looks like somebody.”
“No, I mean like somebody famous. Some singer, maybe.”
Earl though it over. “Maybe.” He paused. “Robert Goulet?”
Bubba started to scream and writhe, tearing at the mesh with his teeth.
“Nah, that ain’t it,” Oscar said. “It’ll come to me. Let’s get him put away.”
“We better not put him in with the other one,” Earl said.
“We got other rooms. Let’s go.”
They reached for Bubba’s legs.
“Wait a second,” Oscar said. “I know who he looks like, it’s—” He said a name that Bubba didn’t like to hear.
“Naw,” Earl said, bending over to peer at Bubba’s face. “Couldn’t be. Just one of them impersonators. This’un would have a hard time of it in that line of work, though. Don’t look much like him at all to me.”
“I guess you’re right,” Oscar said.
They grabbed Bubba’s legs and dragged him to the garage, where they put him in a room well away from the one where Bill was kept.
“I’ll go tell Mr. Edgington,” Oscar said when they had Bubba well tied down.
“You just want to get the credit for catchin’ a trespasser,” Earl said.
“We can’t both go. Somebody’s gotta watch him.”
“Hell, you go, then. I don’t give a damn.”
Oscar left, but he was back within a few minutes, along with Russell Edgington himself.
“So this is the trespasser,” Edgington said, running his hand through his thick red hair. His Southern accent was even more pronounced than that of the guards. “He looks somewhat familiar.”
“That’s what I thought,” Oscar said. “But Earl don’t agree. What’re you gonna do with him?”
“I think I might use him for entertainment purposes,” Edgington said. “And give him and everybody else a little lesson about what happens to trespassers.”
Oscar looked at Earl, who gave a barely perceptible shrug. Whatever Edgington had in mind, it wouldn’t be pleasant for the trespasser.
“Just keep him here for the rest of the night,” Edgington said. He looked around the room. The one small window had been boarded up long ago. “Tomorrow night, bring him up to the main house as soon as he wakes up. We’ll have something prepared for him.”
“Yes, sir,” Oscar said.
Edgington nodded and left.
“I wouldn’t want to be in that fella’s shoes,” Earl said when Edgington had been gone for a few minutes. “Remember what happened the last time we caught somebody?”
“Yeah,” Oscar said with a nod toward Bubba. “You think they’ll stake him?”
“Oh, hell no,” Earl said. “That’s too quick. Whatever they do, it’ll be a lot worse than that.”
-2-
The first thing that Russell Edgington learned when he awoke after sunset the next day was that Bill Compton had escaped. Not only that, Edgington’s hired Weres hadn’t followed his orders, which facilitated the escape, not to mention the guards having caught a prowler on the estate. To top it off, Lorena, the two-hundred-year-old vampire who’d turned Bill and lured him into Edgington’s trap in the first place, was missing. Edgington hadn’t taken this news well. He raged up and down the hallways of his mansion, and nobody dared to come near him, not even Talbot, his favorite companion.
Betty Joe Pickard came into the room. Edgington looked up. Before he could open his mouth, Betty Joe said, “Don’t you dare raise your voice to me.”
No one but Betty Joe would’ve dared say that, and even she was on shaky ground. Edgington snarled and started to stand.
Betty Joe held up a white-gloved hand. She was always dressed to the nines, June Cleaver style. “Hear me out. Don’t you have someone you can vent your feelings on? The one they caught last night? Maybe he even helped Bill escape.”
Edgington leaned forward, started to speak, then leaned back. When he spoke, his voice was almost calm. “You might have a point. It might cheer me up, and it would certainly be entertaining for my guests.”
Betty Joe smiled. “You see? You’re feeling better already.”
“For now,” Edgington said. “Let’s get ready to have a party.”
“What will the entertainment be?”
Edgington smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. “You suggested that I had someone to vent my feelings on, so our prowler will be the honored guest. I think a crucifixion is in order.”
“A crucifixion?” Betty Joe said. “That might prove fatal.”
“And your point is?”
“You might want to question him first.”
“I’ll question him during,” Edgington said. “If he knows anything, he’ll tell me.”
“Maybe,” Betty Joe said.
Edgington was looking downright jovial by this time. “Oh, he’ll tell me, all right. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“No,” Betty Joe said, “I don’t suppose I do.”
-3-
Bubba had woken up exactly at sunset, as he’d been doing ever since he’d been brought over. He didn’t really notice that much difference, since he’d spent most of his life before crossing over sleeping during the day and waking up to enjoy the nightlife.
Tonight was different, however. He was trussed up in silver mesh, and for a couple of minutes, he couldn’t quite figure out what was going on. Then the pain flushed through him, and everything came back to him. He kicked and strained against the mesh, trying to break free, but that just made the pain worse. He lay still and silently cussed the brindle cat and wished for sunrise so that he could lapse into unconsciousness again.
Earl and Oscar came in after a while, and Oscar asked how Bubba was doing.
Bubba could tell he didn’t really give a damn, so he just glared at him.
“You mig
ht’s well be civil to us,” Oscar said. “Not our fault you came sneakin’ around here and got caught. Now you gotta take what’s coming to you.”
Bubba didn’t like the sound of that. He’d heard what they said the previous night, though he wished he hadn’t.
Oscar and Earl didn’t say anything else to him. They went over to a card table, sat down, and started to play some game or other. Bubba didn’t care for card games. He twisted around in an attempt to get some relief, but he just made things worse.
After an hour or so, another vampire came in and asked Oscar to step outside. Oscar didn’t return for about fifteen minutes. When he came back, he looked at Bubba. “Time to go.”
Bubba didn’t want to go, but Earl and Oscar put their heavy gloves on and got him by the arms. They frog-marched him out the door and tumbled him into the back of a golf cart that Oscar had parked there.
“Home, James,” Earl said, settling into the front seat as Oscar got behind the wheel. The golf cart’s motor whined as Oscar drove to the mansion. Bubba was jostled around in the back, but he didn’t fall out.
Oscar stopped at a back door of the mansion, and he and Earl got Bubba out of the cart and onto his feet.
“This is gonna be your big night,” Oscar said as they half walked, half dragged Bubba inside.
They went through a kitchen and a long hallway into a large room where a gathering of vampires and fangbangers awaited them. Vampires and humans alike began to applaud when Bubba entered. At first he was puzzled, but not for long. He remembered that people had once applauded him like that long ago. He generally didn’t like remembering things like that, but this time it didn’t bother him for some reason, maybe because the pain from the silver mesh that encased him was so great.
Looking around the room as best he could, Bubba noticed a big cross in the middle of it. He didn’t think the place was a church, but maybe he’d been brought into some kind of religious service. The melodies of a couple of old songs floated to the top of his consciousness: “Peace in the Valley” and “Crying in the Chapel.” Remembering the songs didn’t bother him the way it usually did, just as the memory of being applauded hadn’t.
He heard someone say, “You know, he looks familiar.” People were always saying that around Bubba.
The red-haired man who’d looked at Bubba in the garage came over to where Oscar and Earl held him.
“You’ve trespassed on my property,” the man said. “Do you have any idea who I am?”
“Nope,” Bubba managed to say.
“Russell Edgington is my name. I’m the King of Mississippi. Does that mean anything to you?”
“Nope,” Bubba said. Being the King of Mississippi didn’t mean squat to him. He could tell Edgington something about being a king if he wanted to, which he didn’t, but again the thought of it didn’t bother him. Bubba attributed it to the pain, which was squeezing pretty much everything else out of his head.
“Very well,” Edgington said. “Maybe it will mean something to you later. Do you know Bill Compton?”
“Yeah,” Bubba said.
Edgington looked a little surprised at the admission. “Did you know he was here?”
“Yeah.”
Again Edgington looked surprised. “Did you help him escape today?”
Bubba always took things literally. He was practically incapable of lying, but he knew he hadn’t had a hand in Bill’s escape. So he said, “Nope.”
“Do you know how he escaped?”
“Nope.”
Edgington now looked more frustrated than surprised. “We’ll see about that.” He turned to Earl and Oscar. “Put him on the cross.”
The two vampires pulled Bubba over to the cross. An excited buzz went through the crowd. Bubba knew that sound. He’d heard it many times. They were anticipating a big show, and he was the star. He wasn’t quite sure just what the show was, however, and the way he was feeling, he wasn’t going to be able to do much about it.
Two more vampires joined Oscar and Earl, and working together they managed to hoist Bubba up against the cross. It wasn’t easy, as Bubba was a bit hefty. Oscar and Earl held him in place while the other two vampires freed his arms from the mesh. Bubba struggled weakly, but he was too weakened to bother the vampires. They tied his wrists to the crosspieces with silver chains. When they were sure his arms were secure, Oscar and Earl released them and freed his lower legs. Bubba gave a feeble kick at Oscar, who grabbed both his feet. He and Earl crossed the feet at the ankles, and the others chained his ankles to the wood with more silver.
“Check him,” Edgington said.
The crowd watched expectantly as a vampire came forward with a silver knife. It had a wooden handle, but the vampire still wore heavy gloves. He didn’t waste any time. He stabbed Bubba in the stomach.
Bubba howled and strained against the chains that held him, but he was tied securely and couldn’t pull loose.
The vampire with the knife looked at Edgington, who nodded. “Bring in the drainers,” he said.
Two men were led into the room. Both of them wore overalls, heavily scuffed work boots, and blue denim shirts. Their faces were pale and drawn underneath several days’ growth of whiskers. They’d been caught only a half hour earlier, and they were plainly frightened.
“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Edgington told them. “This should be a dream come true for you. A vampire to drain at your leisure, and when that’s done, you’ll be released.” He turned to Betty Joe, who’d walked up beside him. “Where are their implements?”
Betty Joe made a gesture, and a vampire brought in a canvas bag that he handed to one of the men.
“You can have every drop you can drain,” Edgington said to the drainers. “All we ask is that you take your time. Let us enjoy the experience.”
The two men looked at each other. Vampire blood was literally worth its weight in gold to humans, even if the vampire wasn’t top quality. Being a drainer meant being willing to risk your life to get the blood. They couldn’t believe it was being offered to them for the taking.
“I promise you,” Edgington said, “that you will be free to leave here with as many vials of blood as you can drain. If you know who I am, you know my word is good.”
“It’s not that we don’t trust you,” one of the men said. “It’s just that—”
Edgington smiled. “It’s just that you don’t trust me. And I don’t blame you. However, I’m telling you the truth. Now get to it, or you’re going to be very sorry.”
The thought of what Edgington could do to them seemed to encourage the men to get busy. They removed knives and vials from the bags and moved toward Bubba.
“Remember,” Edgington said. “Slowly. Don’t start with the larger veins. Think small.”
The men approached Bubba, who knew what was coming but who could do nothing about it. The chains weren’t going to drop off magically. All he could do was take what was coming. For the first time in many years, he was afraid. He didn’t like the feeling, not one bit.
The murmurs of the crowd grew in volume as the vampires’ excitement grew. The fangbangers were excited, too, but for different reasons. Some vampires’ fangs had extruded.
The drainers stepped up and looked Bubba over. He tried to spit at them, but found that his mouth was dry.
In the normal course of things, with a helpless vampire at their mercy, the drainers would have gone for the carotid or the femoral arteries, but they followed Edgington’s orders. One of them cut into an ulnar artery on Bubba’s left wrist, while the other held a vial to catch the blood. Bubba wrenched his arm and tried to make it hard for them, but the chains held him too tightly.
Betty Joe Pickard’s face was a study in avidity, and she twitched away angrily when someone touched her shoulder.
“Sorry, ma’am,” one of Russell’s servants said. “There’s a ph
one call for you.”
“Not now,” Betty Joe said.
“It’s someone called Sookie Stackhouse. She said to tell you she’s the one who saved your life last night and that she has to talk to you right now.”
A cheer burst from the audience as the blood started to flow from Bubba’s vein and drop into the vial.
“Damn,” Betty Joe said. “Just when things were getting good.”
She turned and followed the servant to the phone, picking it up in her gloved hand. After she’d expressed her displeasure to Sookie for being interrupted, she allowed Sookie to get a word in. Sookie explained her situation and said, “I am supposed to tell you that the vampire you have there, he’s the real thing.”
“You’re shitting me, right?”
“Absolutely not.” Sookie told her the circumstances of how Bubba had been brought over. “Don’t call him by his real name. It upsets him, and he gets out of control. Call him Bubba. And for goodness’ sake don’t hurt him.”
“But we’ve already . . . Hold on.”
Betty Joe ran back to the living room, her heels clicking on the tiled floor, and found Edgington watching as the drainers worked.
“We need to talk,” she said.
“Not now.”
“Now. Definitely now.” She took hold of Edgington’s arm and pulled him away and into the hall. “That man we have up there, he’s the real thing.”
Edgington stared at her. “He can’t be.”
“Yes, he can.” She told him what had happened. “We have to get him down.”
“There might be trouble.”
“You’re the king. You can handle it.”
Edgington thought it over. “Very well. But I’m not entirely convinced. He’ll have to prove himself. If he’s real, we should keep him.”
“Just don’t call him by his real name,” Betty Joe said, and she returned to the phone.
“We got him down in time. Would it be all right if he stayed and sang for us?”
Sookie told Eric, who was standing by. He said, “Very well. They can ask, but they can’t insist. You know how he gets if he doesn’t want to. They won’t like him if that happens.”
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