She looked a little glassy-eyed, though. “I’m all right.” She nodded. “I’m all right.”
I took her hand.
“Ed?”
“What, honey?”
“It was…it was real, wasn’t it?”
“It was. I’m sorry. You needed to believe me and I thought...maybe I shouldn’t have pushed.”
She nodded, swallowed thickly. “Just give me a second…”
“Take all the time you need.”
“Hold her,” Mitzi told me.
I put my arm across Sylvie’s slim shoulders.
Mitzi made a derisive sound in my head. “Not like that! Hold her, Ed!”
I pulled Sylvie close, held her. “Is this okay? What if she wants more, Mitz, like a kiss or something?”
“God, you’re hopeless.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“She’ll let you know, trust me.”
We sat silently a few moments. Sylvie’s hair smelled wonderful.
“So if she does…should I kiss her or not?”
“Ed, do you go to the bathroom by yourself yet?”
“She’s sliding a hand between my thighs, Mitz…”
“She’s just getting warm. Relax, will you, nobody’s going to tell Clancy. Just hold her awhile. You might put her head down on your shoulder. Yeah. Good. A little less like you’re closing a hamper next time. There. She’ll be fine. You’ll see, she’s a survivor.”
“And you can what—smell all this ‘cause you’re a dog?”
“’Cause I’m a female, Eddie. The species is moot.”
* * *
By the time we got off the elevator Sylvie was back on her feet, nearly her old self.
Even so, I took the keys from her, fumbled through the ring, and finally inserted the right one in the apartment door.
“Hold it a second!” Mitzi warned, poking my thigh with her nose.
“What’s the matter?”
“Listen…”
I froze. Cocked my head, saw Sylvie do the same. “I don’t hear anything,” I said.
“Wait…”
I pressed my ear to the door. Nothing.
Then I heard it. A man’s voice. Low. Strong. Commanding.
Ivan!
I bent gently to Sylvie, whispering. “What time do the girls get home?”
She checked her watch, looked up at me with fearful eyes. “They’re home!”
“…you must join me,” the voice inside was saying, “you must walk with me the untrodden path, and though the way may be dark, you will not be afraid…for I will lead you…”
In my mind I saw white apartment walls scalloped crimson.
“…I will lead you into a land of both the living and dead…a land of unearthly beauty…unimagined desires…where the pain is sharp and quick…but the joy of lust is eternal…”
“Shit!” I spat, hand frozen on the knob.
“Easy, Sport,” from a trembling Mitzi, “let’s think this through…”
But, to my shock, Sylvie’s strong hand was suddenly atop mine, nails digging in as she twisted, pushed inward. “I will not let him harm them!”
“Sylvie, NO--”
But we were already inside, door banging the jamb. The living room was black as a pit.
Sylvie reached reflexively for the switch. I grabbed at her wrist, wrestled briefly, but she tore away. “Let go of me!”
Just before she hit the light, I heard a strange thumping sound close by.
The room flared with brilliance.
Mitzi sat in front of us facing the coffee table, tail thumping the carpet.
Mindy and Mandy sat opposite each other across the table, arms stretched long, polished nails lightly pressed to the plastic cursor atop the Ouija board. Their eyes were closed. Heads bent. Brows knitted in concentration.
“…I will enter you, body and soul,” the deep voice droned on, “and you will join my kingdom…”
Only it wasn’t a man; it was Mindy.
“What the hell!” Sylvie shouted.
They turned to us in tandem, faces bright with identical smiles. “Hi, guys! Out on the town? Bring back some dessert?”
Sylvie strode forward sternly like a wet mother hen. “What on earth are you doing?”
Mandy looked up innocently. “Just…channeling. Mindy bought a Ouija board!”
“I warned you about messing with that stuff!” Sylvie hissed.
“Chill,” Mandy said, “it was on sale.”
“Closing-doors bargain at Borders!” from Mindy.
I slumped relief. “God, I’d have sworn that was man’s voice. Where’d you learn to do that, Mandy?”
“Mindy. Two years of acting classes at The Chicago Rep. Thought it might get me film work. Thought. I’m really an actress, you know. I mean, an actor.”
“Sure you are,” her sister quipped.
“Put it away!” Sylvie commanded, glaring at the board. “Now!”
Turned a cold shoulder and marched stiffly to the liquor cabinet.
Mindy picked up the board meekly, a soundless, chastised eek between clenched teeth. “What’s with her?” she whispered to me. “You two have a fight?”
“We did not have a fight!” from Sylvie at the bar, pouring gin. “Ed? What’s your poison?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“What about the dog?”
Mitzi looked at me hopefully. “Bloody Mary?”
“She’s fine too.”
Sylvie nodded, skated back over and handed me a drink anyway, already sipping at hers.
Mandy watched us guardedly from the easy chair. “W-What happened? Was there an argument?”
“We did not get into a fight!” Sylvie spun on her. The surface of her martini was vibrating like a tuning fork in her hand. She took a ragged breath, put the other hand to her head briefly, closed her eyes. “Sorry. I’m sorry, honey. Little tired tonight.”
I came to her side, put an arm about her.
“You didn’t get into a wreck?” from Mindy.
I shook my head. “We’re fine.”
Sylvie knocked back the rest of her drink, handed me the empty glass. “Make me another, will you, darling?” Started to turn, then stopped herself…turned back sheepishly. “Sorry. Make me another one, will you, Ed.”
“Sure.”
I headed for the cabinet.
“And make one for the girls, too.”
“I’m okay,” Mindy said.
“Make one for the girls,” Sylvie repeated. Then she turned to them. “We have to talk…”
“Sylvie,” I called, pouring, “maybe tonight’s not the best time…”
“Tonight’s fine. The sooner the better.”
“Shit,” Mandy sighed and sat back limply in her chair. “You want us to move out, right? Mindy and me? You want the place to yourselves.”
“What?”
“You and darling. I mean, Ed.”
Sylvie stomped her foot hard. The glass-topped coffee table tinkled musically. “We are not having an affair!” cheeks coloring.
Mandy waved an indifferent hand from the couch, finally bored with it. “Oh come off it, Sylvie. Following him all over the apartment like a puppy. Thrusting those melons at him every chance you get.” She stretched and yawned. “That stripper’s thong posing as a breakfast apron…”
“My clothes were in the dryer!” Sylvie snapped defensively.
“Yeah, whatever.”
“You could have borrowed something of mine,” from Mindy.
“For like the thousandth time!” from a sarcastic Mandy. “Anyway, why the prude act all of a sudden? I thought we told each other everything! What happened to that rule? Have Mindy or I ever pried, ever cared who you sleep with?” She tossed her head at me. “You can bang all night and day for all we care.”
“Thank you,” I said uncomfortably.
“Are you jealous, Sylvie?” Mandy pressed. “Is that it? Didn’t we promise never to touch your darling Ed?”
“I
actually never signed off on that one…” Mindy began.
Sylvie screamed. Loud and shrill. “There are vampires in Chicago!”
The twins stared at her.
Turned and stared at each other.
Mandy turned and stared at Sylvie tentatively. “The landlord, you mean?”
Sylvie pulled her hair. “Vampires!” she cried, turning purple. “Real, living vampires!”
“Not…actually living—“ I attempted.
“The kind that feast on humans, drink their blood! Drink your blood! Do you understand what I’m saying, girls? I saw one tonight! Saw him rip a man to pieces right in front of my eyes! And toss the pieces around like confetti!”
Her last words seemed to echo against the apartment walls in the ensuing silence.
Mandy and Mindy sat in silence across the coffee table staring speechlessly at Sylvie.
Then they stared speechlessly at each other.
Then Mindy turned and looked up again at both of us.
“Vampires? For real?”
“Yes!” Sylvie pleaded.
Mandy looked back at her sister. “Cool!”
* * *
We told them everything after that.
Well, I held back about Mitzi and me being Readers, but we unloaded in full detail about everything else.
The girls sat shoulder to shoulder together on the couch--twin Cupie dolls on a carny ring-toss shelf—pretty painted mouths open, porcelain eyes wide, hanging on our every word like two kids just learning there is no Santa Claus.
Then we told them about Ivan.
Mindy gasped.
Then slapped her knee with a defiant smack. “I knew it! I knew it the first time we dated! He kept staring at my neck!”
Mandy turned coolly to her twin sister. “You dated Ivan?”
Mindy bit her lip, hunched low. “Just…once.”
“You said, ‘the first time’!”
“Twice then. It was no big deal, Mandy.”
Mandy’s eyes narrowed. “It was those times you borrowed my black dress, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it!”
“So?”
“You impersonated me!”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“All night long, he thought you were me!”
“Well, it’s not like he was going to marry you or anything!”
“I can’t believe this! I knew that voice sounded familiar! You were doing him over the Ouija board just now, weren’t you?”
“No.”
“Weren’t you?”
“I was doing Brad Pitt.”
“Brad Pitt my ass!”
“You wish!”
“Girls!”
They jumped before Sylvie’s high C.
“Can we please get back to the point! Which is to help Ed here and, hopefully, prevent the rest of us from acquiring new sets of dental work! All our lives are in danger, do you understand the gravity of this? All of us! The entire planet!”
The twins nodded meekly.
“So try real hard to grow up for a few minutes! And lay off the Ouija board shit, huh? Any stuff like that is way too dangerous now!”
The twins nodded meekly.
Sylvie heaved a weary sigh. “Okay. So. Where were we--?”
“Ivan,” I said.
“You’ve both been with Ivan, is that true?”
“Apparently!” from a huffy Mandy.
I came over to the couch, touched Sylvie lightly on the shoulder. She moved aside and I sat down across from the twins. Looked them in the eye, on to the other. “Think carefully, now,” I began earnestly, “and be honest, that’s very important. The times you were with Ivan. Was there any sucking involved?”
Mindy jerked. “That’s a rather personal question, Ed—“
“Your neck, Mindy! Did he ever get near your neck!”
The twins looked at each other. “Well, he kissed mine,” Mindy said.
“After you blew him!” Mindy snorted.
I leaned toward them, looked hard into their eyes now. “Are you sure? Absolutely certain? Just kissed! Nothing more! Not even a little nibble?”
They both shook their heads.
I sat back, blew out pent-up breath. “Well, that’s a break, anyway.”
“They both walk around in broad sunlight, Ed,” the poodle reminded me, nodding at the girls.
“I know, Mitzi, I know…” accidently speaking aloud again, “I’m just being cautious.”
“What did he say?” from a confused Mindy.
“He talks to the dog,” Sylvie told her.
Mindy looked over at Mitzi.
Then back at me. “Oh.”
“I think I’ll have that drink now,” Mandy said softly.
“This could actually be advantageous,” Sylvie was explaining mixing the drink, “you two having such an intimate relationship with Ivan. Have you ever worked for him?”
Both twins settled back like innocent cherubs. “Worked?”
Sylvie turned levelly. “C’mon, you guys! Cards on the table! We’re trying to help get Ed his girlfriend back. It’s going to hard enough without little white lies.”
Mindy shrugged. “I did. A few times,” she admitted.
“A few times this year or a few times this month?”
Mindy sighed. “Month.”
Sylvie turned to the other girl. “Mandy?”
Mandy nodded.
“Good. Then he’ll expect you at the gallery opening this weekend. That’s three of us that are acquainted with Ivan, including me. Three of us whom he won’t suspect or be surprised to see show up. Now. If we can keep him distracted somehow, and Ed can figure a way to slip Clancy out of there--”
“Not possible,” I sighed, pacing myself now, “like I said, Ivan will remember me from the rooftop party in KC—remember whose girl he stole. And even if he didn’t, there may be a bigger problem…”
“Like?” from Sylvie.
“Like I’m not sure how anxious Clancy will be to see me. Or even to leave Chicago.”
“I thought she was your girlfriend,” from Mandy.
I nodded wryly. “’Was’ being the operant word. Before Ivan got his talons on her. Got his mind inside her. I’m not sure Clancy even remembers who Clancy is anymore.”
“You mean she might be a vampire!”
I shook my head. “No, she’s immune to vampirism. But not, apparently, to the magnetically charming Kolcheck. He’s got her under some kind of sway.”
“Did you say she’s immune?”
I waved my hand. “It’s a long story, for another day. Right now I’ve got to figure a way to get into that gallery party without Ivan suspecting me. I can worry about confronting Clancy later.”
“That’s simple,” Mindy shrugged, “go in disguise!”
I smirked. “Good idea, sweetie, but Ivan is the Prince of the Vampires. Not an entity easily deceived. It would have to be one hell of a disguise. A vampire can smell who you are!”
Everyone was silent for a time.
Sylvie and I continued to pace, passing each other on the carpet.
Then Mandy leaned forward on the couch. “How do you mean, he can smell?”
I tossed my head. “You know, like an animal. Vampires have hypersensitive hearing, hyper sight, and especially hyper olfactory acuity. Akin to a bat. They can tell one human from another in total darkness.”
“Damn,” Mindy muttered admiringly, “nice senses!”
Mandy chewed her lip. “Your scent, could it be…disguised somehow? You know, covered up with something? Like say, aftershave?”
I rolled it around. Looked over at Mitzi.
“Unlikely,” she said carefully. “Possible…maybe! Dangerous to try with a vampire as advanced as Ivan. But yes, theoretically possible, I guess.”
“Possibly,” I told Mandy. “Why?”
Mindy suddenly whipped around to her sister. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Mandy was all smiles. “Who knows more about disguises than anyone in tow
n?”
The twins grabbed hands, squealed and bounced on the cushions like adolescents.
“Binkie O’Brien!”
THIRTEEN
Binkie O’Brien was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen.
She was also one hell of a jazz artist.
She sang nights at a little place near the Navy Pier called The Blues Wing, named ostensibly after jazz clarinet genius Charlie “Bird” Parker, who’d played there often during the ‘40’s along with other greats like Jimmy McPartland and Eddie Condon—and Count Basie and Lester Young over from St. Louis and up from Kansas City--going way back to the Boss Pendergast days.
Jazz in America (where it was born) isn’t held in as high esteem with the current populace these days—just try to find a radio station dedicated to it—but The Blue Wing struggles on trying to keep the “Chicago style” alive and breathing.
The atmosphere inside the Wing didn’t look the least on the wane; it was as dark and cool and sweetly downbeat as the music coming from the stage, and from the beautiful voice of Binkie O’Brien. Under a blue spot, accompanied by only piano and horn, she wore a shimmering white strapless that caught the soft light with gentle winks as she belted and whispered and scatted from somewhere way past the sparkles, deep down in her whisky soul.
The twins got us front row seats and I could have sat there all night and listened to that woman ply the blues, wiggle to the Dixeland and slide effortlessly into the Traditional. I was a fan after the first ten minutes.
Backstage she was a petulant diva whose blonde wig came off quickly before her bulb-ringed vanity mirror, revealing a short mane of tight dark curls against coffee and cream complexion. She looked thirty but was well into her sixties according to the girls. Sitting there in a low cut nearly naked back applying lipstick and powder for the next set, yacking with the twins, she didn’t appear to notice the guy from Topeka standing quietly off to the side wishing distantly for an autograph.
Her speaking voice was rich-syrup South with only a touch of nasal Chicagoan.
“You girls behavin’ yerselves? Findin’ runway work in this Christ-awful recession?”
“Enough to pay the rent,” from Mandy.
Binkie grunted at her reflection, tapped down a loose lash and finally glimpsed me cursorily in the glass. “Who’s the drink of water, your new agent?”
“This is Mr. Ed Magee,” Mindy told her. “He needs an outfit.”
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