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B007JBKHYW EBOK Page 8

by April Campbell Jones


  And he followed Clancy back into the building.

  I followed close behind Kolcheck, stabbing repeatedly at his back with a stake, ripping out his black heart.

  But only in my mind.

  EIGHT

  I gave Mitzi the silent treatment on the way back to the towers.

  “You’re worrying about nothing, Ed.”

  “Right.”

  “I mean it. That guy will wake up and never know what hit him.”

  “He’ll know a vampire hit him.”

  “No. Ivan will know a vampire hit him. The trucker will think it’s a rat or a snake or something.”

  “Oh, really.” I snorted. “And how do you know that?”

  “Because that’s what I planted in his fifth grade educated brain before dining on him, and after rummaging around inside his skull for any useful information.”

  “And--?”

  “And he did not know his two trucker friends are vampires, or their boss Kolcheck either. He’s just some guy that works in the union.”

  I looked down at her as we crossed the street to Marina City again. “Whose union?”

  “Not sure about that. But I got a strong feeling Ivan either runs it or owns a major part of it. As well as several other unions in town. Working with or through the mob.”

  I thought about it. “But the mob doesn’t know he’s a vampire?”

  “I doubt it. I’m guessing he’s moving slow and deliberate—unlike Alicia—waiting until he controls the night before worrying about daytime Chicago. And St. Louis. And New York, ad infinitum.”

  I thought about that too, shook my head. “Risky.”

  “Really? Chicago just like New York and every other major city in America—in the world—is overrun by rats. But you rarely see it in the daylight. Alicia’s modus operandi was to blend with the humans, town by town, city by city with her little anti-sun skin wonder lotion, remember? Our boy Ivan is an old schooler. He may have been Alicia’s student, but I think he prefers the Old World ways, is proud of his ancient vampire heritage. He’ll never be comfortable in the daylight, especially now that he knows what a little dog pee can do to Alicia’s ‘magic’ sunscreen formula.”

  “Sees himself as the original Count Dracula.”

  “That’s it. A monarch of evil on a black throne somewhere in the Balkans.”

  “He’s a romantic. How endearing.”

  “He got Clancy, didn’t he?”

  We jerked toward each other at the same moment, Mitzi’s floppy ears drooping in apology. “Sorry, Ed, shouldn’t have said that.”

  I walked on. “Why not, it’s the truth.”

  “You’ll get her back. We’ll get her back.”

  I grunted wryly. “The ‘fucking robot’ you mean?”

  Mitzi sighed. “I could be wrong about that. Clancy could be giving us a blank wall for our own protection.”

  “Readers can do that?”

  “The really good ones can. She’s a smart girl, Ed. She may be toying with Ivan as much as he thinks he’s toying with her.”

  I ground my teeth. “Why is he toying with her? I mean she’s beautiful, yes, but there are lots of beautiful women around for a guy like that. Why go to so much trouble to abduct Clancy?”

  “Clearly she’s even more special than we know. Has something he wants.”

  “Like what?”

  “Wish I knew. Are those the twins getting into that cab?”

  I looked up. We were almost to the entrance to the towers. Mindy and Mandy were waving at us from the open door of a Chicago cab, evening dresses rustling in the lake breeze.

  “Hey you two!” from one of them, I couldn’t tell which, but they looked terrific. “Have a nice walk?”

  “Very educational,” I called back. “Don’t you two look inviting! What’s the occasion?”

  “Double date!” from the other twin, before she ducked under the roof, “you’ll just have to survive without us tonight!” And she threw me an air kiss.

  “Poor Ed,” from the other—Mindy?—“stuck all alone with Sylvie in that great big apartment! Whatever will you two do!” Hah-hah.

  I ducked down beside the back side window as the door shut. “You two be careful! Where’s the party?”

  One of them pointed in the general direction of the city. “Out there! Don’t wait up!”

  And the cab shot away.

  We stood there on the curb in a whirl of perfume and high-test fumes.

  “Gentleman don’t even come by to pick up the ladies anymore,” Mitzi sighed, “what’s the world coming to?”

  * * *

  “Oh, my God! What happened!” Sylvie exclaimed, opening the door for us.

  “Happened--?”

  I glanced down at Mitzi as we entered the apartment. Her muzzle was smudged pink. I hadn’t even noticed in the dark.

  Sylvie swooped to her like a mother hen. “Is she hurt? Poor baby!”

  She kneeled, cupped the furry face in her palms. “Did she get into a fight?”

  “Yes,” I said, as companionably as possible, “with a rat. The rat lost.”

  The poodle shot me a look.

  Sylvie clucked and sighed and folded Mitzi in her arms, cooing and rubbing as she carried her to the bathroom. “Did the nasty vermin bite our little girl?” And over her shoulder: “Ed, maybe we should get her a rabies shot!”

  “She’ll be fine,” I assured, joining her, thankful vampires don’t contract human diseases, “nothing a little soap and water won’t cure.”

  Which Sylvie, sitting on the lip of the tub, was already applying tenderly to the dog’s chin between breathy coos. “Poor little precious…”

  Mitzi glanced past her nurse’s shoulder, wiggled her brows at me.

  “Enjoying yourself?” I inquired drily.

  “If I were a male,” she smirked dreamily, “I’d have such a boner right now! Be a pet, Eddie, and hand us a towel!”

  I gave her the finger and returned to the living room.

  * * *

  Bloated with blood like a contented mosquito, Mitzi fell asleep on the apartment’s only sofa.

  Sylvie made us drinks and made a fire. Well, she flipped a switch and turned on the fire. But the flames were real and with the lights turned low it was cozy and cheerful and soul-warming…especially after the earlier part of the evening.

  We watched the fire without conversation for a while, sipped our drinks and enjoyed the warmth and companionship.

  After a time I said, “Thanks, Sylvie.”

  She smiled, lovely in the firelight. “Don’t thank me until after you’ve spent the night on our couch.”

  I winced inwardly, recalling the wonderful experience in the motel.

  Sylvie turned to me suddenly. “Ed…you know you can…I mean, you’re welcome to share my bed tonight, you know that, right? I mean, we are adults.”

  I pecked her on the forehead. “The couch will be fine. Anyway, I wasn’t thanking you for just the accommodations…”

  “No? What then?”

  When I didn’t answer she looked into my eyes curiously. Then she got it.

  And turned to look back at the fire. “Didn’t take my advice about Market Street, that it?”

  She sighed at the flames, drew up her legs, leaned on them. “Did you see him?”

  “I saw him.”

  She nodded, expression resigned. “I was afraid of that. Getting ready for a new showing, right? Hanging canvasses and such. Did he see you?”

  “No.”

  I could see the subtle shift of relief in her posture.

  “Sylvie, thank you for caring…for trying to steer me away from harm’s way, but—“

  “But you’re just so crazy about her you can’t help yourself.”

  I looked down at my drink. “It isn’t just that. He abducted her. It’s a crime—“

  “Yes, Ed!” She tensed a bit. “He’s a criminal! With connections to fellow criminals all over town. An army of thugs and bangers you can’t possibly
get past. You don’t know this guy, Ed, don’t know what you’re dealing with here!”

  A vision of a burning hotel rooftop flashed before me, and other things Sylvie wasn’t aware of even though she was right there, her mind blanked-out with the other conventioneers by Ivan’s implacable power.

  “But you brought me here,” I said softly, “your apartment just blocks from his gallery.”

  “Yes,” she choked and put her head down on her knees. “And I wish to God I hadn’t.”

  “Do you?”

  “Of course! I was going to dump you somewhere along the way to Chicago! Kept meaning to. Kept telling myself just one more mile then I’ll unload this hick.”

  I smiled in firelight. “So why didn’t you?”

  She was quiet a moment. “You know why.”

  “Tell me.”

  She looked back at the flames and they made her brimming eyes glisten. “I got jealous.”

  I watched her.

  “A little more every time you mentioned her name. Until I wanted to slap her. Slap both of you. I got jealous of someone I didn’t even know because she had the one thing I’d always wanted and never had.”

  “Sylvie, I’m not—“

  “Shut-up. I know exactly what you are. Stupid hick. Stupid small town hick. Stupid clothes, stupid haircut. Stupid, dumb floppy dog of yours. Except she’s not so dumb. She knows the same thing I know, which is that you need taking care of. Any woman could see it. The twins certainly can. You any idea how rare that is, Ed? A good man who needs looking after? Needs a woman at all? Well, in this entire city there’s only two, and you’re one of them.”

  “Who’s the other?”

  She sighed. “Haven’t met him yet.” She ran a hand through her hair wearily. “Never will meet him, I guess.”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  “I’m not. Bad people don’t get good people.”

  “Now you are being ridiculous.”

  She shook her head at the flames, eyes misty and a little dreamy now. “We know the difference between good and bad by the time we’re ten. By the time we’re twenty we’ve seen enough of both to make a choice. By the time we’re thirty, we’ve made our choices.”

  “Is that your philosophy, Sylvie, is that what you think?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  She looked at me. “You don’t?”

  I turned and looked at the fire. “I think the choices keep right on coming…way after thirty. And I think that sometimes we all act like we’re still ten. Maybe it’s what makes us human.” I grimaced briefly at the flames. “Some of us anyway…”

  Then I got up from the fire and turned to the couch.

  “Where are you going?”

  “You’re right about Ivan. He’s dangerous as hell. Not a good person to be around. And you’re right about me: I’m going after him anyway. Which makes me dangerous to be around. One more bad person you don’t need in your life, Sylvie. Come on, Mitzi!”

  “No!” Sylvie was up from the carpet and on me before Mitzi could blink open her eyes.

  She grabbed my arm hard, spun me. “Is that what you took away from my little speech? I told you, you could use this place as a headquarters because I meant it! So just get the road-look off your face and come back to the fire!”

  “I’m putting you in harm’s way, Sylvie.”

  She yanked me back toward the andirons. “That’s my business! I didn’t not kick you out of the truck because I was jealous of your girlfriend. But because I knew even if I did it wouldn’t make any difference. With me or without me you’d find a way to get to Ivan, so it may as well be with me. At least I’m familiar with the battlefield. And with Ivan you don’t use conventional warfare. You have to come at him from another angle.”

  “What angle?”

  She sat before the fireplace again, pulled me down beside her. “I’m working on it. Meanwhile stay away from Market Street until I’ve got a concrete plan.”

  I pulled back a curl from her face. “Why are you doing this, Sylvie?”

  “Because it’s the right thing to do. And…

  “And--?”

  “And because once you’re finally back with her, maybe Miss Fancy Clancy won’t turn out to be all you’ve cracked her up to be. And you might need a friend.”

  I cupped her cheek and started to peck her forehead again, but it felt cheap. So I went for her lips but she caught at my wrist. “Don’t.”

  “No?’

  “Not until you’re ready.”

  * * *

  The couch wasn’t really all that bad.

  Not great, mind you, but a notch up from that bed of spikes at the motel.

  Still, I wasn’t getting much sleep.

  Miss Fancy Clancy won’t turn out to be all you cracked her up to be.

  Yeah.

  If she survived another week with Ivan she might be lucky to turn out to be anything at all. Including alive.

  Not exactly sleep-inducing.

  On the other hand, neither was Mitzi’s snoring from the carpet below me.

  Or those wet smacking sounds she made with her mouth when she wasn’t mindlessly rowing her legs in pursuit of God knew what. Even my occasional poke from above didn’t faze her.

  Dream away, little mosquito, enjoy a full stomach while you can. I’m not sure I can stomach much more of this myself.

  As I was readjusting myself yet again on the narrow couch, the hall lights came on.

  Sylvie stood there in a gloriously translucent nightie whose hem stopped just below the crossroads. “Wow,” I said.

  “Sorry, did I wake you?”

  “Anytime you want to wake me dressed like that, feel free.”

  “Ed, look, I’ve been thinking. This is ridiculous. I mean sleeping on that impossibly small couch. It’s beyond inconvenient, it’s silly. I’ve got twice the bed in there I need anyway. So what do you say, would you mind so terribly?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t mind…”

  “Come on, then. What’s the worst that can happen? At least it’s soft!”

  “Your bed, you mean…”

  “No one deserves to be stuck out here like this, Ed, it’s inhumane.”

  She came over to the couch, kissed me tenderly on the cheek. “Okay?”

  “Well…if you’re sure…”

  She beamed. “I’m sure! I could use the companionship!”

  She bent down and patted Mitzi awake. “Come on girl! Pajama party!”

  Sylvie rose and Mitzi trotted happily after her to the big soft bed.

  “Goodnight, Ed!”

  NINE

  I woke up just after three a.m.

  I remember it clearly because I’d put my watch on the little end table beside the couch and even in the nearly total dark of the living room I could read the luminous dial.

  My neck felt like it had been rung, my head twisted off, then screwed back on, but at least my back and legs were okay; a lot better than with that motel couch.

  I readjusted the single pillow Sylvie had provided, rearranged the army blanket over my shoulders and was just rearranging my neck for a better position when something dark passed over my thoughts like a spill of black ink.

  Something, somehow, wasn’t right.

  It took me a few sleepy moments propped on my elbow to realize what: there was a slim shaft of light spearing across Sylvie’s living room carpet. From the outside hall. It speared across like that, I quickly realized, because the front door of the apartment was open. Or at least ajar.

  The first thing I thought was: the twins.

  They’d come home late, fairly inebriated and simply forgotten to close the—

  But that was just my conscious mind, trying to cloak what my subconscious already knew: Mitzi. She’d gotten hungry again in the middle of the night.

  “Shit,” I breathed, feeling suddenly sick all over.

  I threw back the blanket, sat there for a moment just staring at the L-shaped wedge of light from the door. How the hell would I find he
r in a city the size of Chicago?

  “Please, Mitzi,” I implored the night, “tell me you didn’t go out again. Please!”

  But Mitzi wasn’t answering.

  Must be out of range.

  Or sound asleep down the hall in bed with Sylvie!

  I prayed hard for the latter, and I’m not a praying man.

  I padded to the front door of the condo in boxers and T-shirt, opened it slightly, peered out into the dim hallway and looked both ways. Empty. As it would be at this hour. I pulled shut the door softly.

  I must have been the twins coming in late, it must have been.

  Not that Mitzi would have had any trouble getting out if she wanted to--turning a knob with her teeth; she’d done it dozens of times. My mind simply wasn’t convinced she do it—sneak out without telling me.

  Then I remembered that wild look in her eyes outside the gallery earlier…just before she did a fast fade on me and fanged the trucker.

  But she’d fed! She was full! Bloated! I’d seen it, even been surprised Sylvie hadn’t commented on the dog’s fat tummy.

  Damn.

  I stood there by the front door another few moments dreading what I knew was the simple way to solve the mystery. Something inside this apartment just didn’t feel right. I was chill all over, but not from the thermostat. This chill was from the inside out. No, let’s be truthful, I wasn’t just chill…I was afraid.

  It was palpable.

  I closed my eyes a second, pushed hard with my mind again calling: “Mitzi, Mitzi, Mitzi.”—sending it out past the elevators, past the hotel lobby, out into Chicago streets all the way to Ivan’s gallery. “Mitzi answer me, please!”

  No message came back.

  Okay, then. Only one way to be sure.

  I started for the hallway, for Sylvie’s bedroom—

  --stopped myself. Turned and made sure the door was locked—

  --started for the hallway again, stepping carefully in the gloom, trying not to bang into unseen tables, furniture, knock anything over. It was going to be all right, I told myself…the girls had just come in late, that was all. But my rubbery legs weren’t buying it, and I swallowed back a sudden ghastly vision: Sylvie sprawled across her bed, body white as the sheets, two runnels of red drying at her slim throat, Mitzi crouched over her, eyes glowing, a growl starting in her chest at my approach…

 

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