Ravenous

by Forrest, V. K.

  “I swear. I wasn’t following you. How could I? I had no idea you . . . I have no idea where you live. I just have this thing for faces. I . . . I recognized you. But . . . but I can forget you. Swear I can.”

  Liam loosened his grip on the old man’s throat. He didn’t need anyone seeing him beat up an old man in an alley. He looked over to where the crowd was spilling into the street. With all the excitement of the parade and the growing darkness, no one seemed to notice them. He glanced in the other direction. Mai and her father had reached the end of the alley and waited for him, her back to him. She was a smart girl.

  “You swear this was an accident?” Liam said. As he spoke the words, he went over in his head anything he could have said to the bookie that night in the trattoria to give away where he lived. He hadn’t. He would never do something like that. He wondered if the Rousseau brothers had anything to do with it, but that didn’t make sense, either. The police had taken Anthony home; even if Dan and Levi had been crazy enough to follow them to Anthony’s house and feed on him, they would have left him with short-term amnesia. He would have remembered nothing about them or anything they said.

  It was a coincidence that he and Anthony had run into each other on the street. Pure coincidence, he decided. Life was stranger than fiction sometimes.

  “Liam?” Mai called.

  Liam slowly released Anthony. “You learn anything more about the guy I asked you about?”

  “Got a lead,” he said, raising his hand to his throat as he looked up warily. “My cousin’s got a sister-in-law in the same parish as his parole officer. I’m working on it.”

  Liam knew he would never get the information out of Anthony if he scared him too badly. “I apologize for my behavior. A man can’t be too careful. I’ll make it well worth your while, should you locate the man in question. You have my number. I have yours,” he added.

  “So I can go?”

  Liam nodded. “Sure. Have . . . have a good evening with your sister. Really. I apologize.” He took one last look at the man in the Red Skelton costume and hurried down the dark alley.

  “Who was that?” Mai asked, looking over her shoulder as Liam urged her across the street.

  “It was no one. Come on.”

  “Didn’t look like no one to me,” Corrato the zombie said.

  “How about some boardwalk fries?” Liam kept moving. “I know the best place in town to get them.”

  The zombie nodded. “Prince appreciates a decent boardwalk fry.”

  Mai rested her head on Liam’s shoulder and, wrapped in each other’s arms, they danced slowly to the music of the Isley Brothers. After the parade, they had sat on a bench on the boardwalk with her dad and shared a bucket of beach fries. The band had started playing and they’d sat for a while, watching everyone dance. It was a festive atmosphere, with people mingling and laughing, human and vampire together, and Corrato seemed to thoroughly enjoy himself. But then he said he was tired and it was time to go to bed.

  Mai had asked Liam for just one dance before they left. He’d considered saying no. He didn’t need anyone in Clare Point who hadn’t yet seen him with her to see him holding her in his arms. Besides, he didn’t dance.

  But when he’d tried to say no, he hadn’t been able to do it. Her face had been too earnest. Too sweet. Before the words were out of his mouth, she was telling him it was okay. And then the song began. He’d always had a soft spot for the Isley Brothers.

  “If you leave me now,” he sang, mostly to himself, feeling ridiculously nostalgic, “you take away the biggest part of me. . . .”

  “Oh, baby,” she sang softly. “Oh no, woman, please don’t go.”

  “I like this one better than the Chicago song,” he said.

  “Me too.”

  Turning slowly, Mai in his arms, Liam noticed how the bare lightbulbs strung back and forth over the dance area cast a pale yellow light, a light so forgiving that he almost couldn’t tell who was vampire and who was human. If only the world could be more like this.

  Over Mai’s shoulder, Liam spotted Kaleigh. She was slow-dancing with Rob. She lifted her gaze to meet Liam’s and he realized her eyes were red. She’d been crying.

  You okay? Liam telepathed, concentrating on keeping the message strictly for her, which wasn’t easy to do with so many Kahills around. Liam’s public telepathy skills were a little rusty and the whole sept was a bunch of Nosy Parkers. Living and working the way he did, he didn’t usually have to worry about anyone else listening in.

  I’m okay, she answered. Then she smiled. Sadly.

  Want to talk? he asked, and then wondered what the hell was wrong with him. Sitting around like this, waiting on the High Council, was making him weak. He needed to get back on the road, track a serial killer or something and get out of touch with his softer side.

  I don’t know. Maybe. Might come by tomorrow after Rob goes back to school. Give you an update on your mom’s house.

  Come by tomorrow, Liam urged.

  The song ended and Mai opened her eyes and looked into his. She was smiling more with her eyes than with her mouth. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “For the dance? Sure.” He kissed the top of her head and took her hand to lead her back toward the bench where her father waited.

  “Not just the dance.” She resisted and he was forced to stop. She was strong, for being so petite. “For everything,” she said. “For letting us stay. For caring.”

  “I think he stole some diamonds.” Liam just blurted it out.

  Her forehead wrinkled in shock. “Uncle Donato? Diamonds?”

  Liam nodded. People were walking around them, bumping into them on their way on and off the dance floor. The band began to play “Mustang Sally” and there were hoots and applause.

  Liam glanced around. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  “We’ll talk about it now,” she said. But she let him lead her away from the crowd so they could hear each other above the music. Her father sat on the boardwalk bench, not too far away. “You think he stole diamonds from this guy? You’ve got to be kidding me.” She set her jaw angrily. “How long have you known about this?”

  He’d gone on the Internet at the Clare Point public library and done research on the missing diamonds Fia had told him about this week. He’d actually found some information about the diamond theft. The rare pink diamonds had been mined in Tanzania and disappeared during shipment after a private sale. Nowhere on the Internet did it indicate that the mafia or the Weasel had been suspected in the heist. Insurance had paid on the theft fifteen months after the diamonds disappeared. It was unknown if they had ever been cut down and sold on the black market, the only way they would not have been identified.

  Liam didn’t know why he’d kept the information from Mai until now; obviously, he had to tell her at some point. At her house the other day he’d looked around. There was no safe and whoever had been there had made a pretty good initial search. Donato wouldn’t have been dumb enough to take the diamonds there anyway, would he? The diamonds had to be long gone, didn’t they?

  “How long have you known?” she repeated.

  “Bits and pieces, a few days. I still don’t have the full story, but it’s not easy to track. A lot of the guys involved are dead now.”

  “They were murdered?”

  He smirked. “Old age.”

  If she thought that was amusing, she didn’t respond.

  “The diamond heist was in the mid-eighties. Then the Weasel went to jail for twenty years.”

  She was still in shock. “The bastard had Uncle Donato killed over diamonds?”

  “A lot of diamonds. Rare pink diamonds worth millions of dollars. I’m not positive that’s what the Weasel is looking for, but if I find him, that’ll be my first question.”

  She rested her hand on his arm. “That sounds like a bad idea, you looking for him. If . . . if the mob is involved in this, shouldn’t I just take Babbo and run? Disappear?”

  The sad fact was
that that might be her best option, but it would be difficult with her father, the way he was. And how would they support themselves? He wasn’t ready to tell her to run, not yet. “Give me a few more days,” he said. “I’m going to be shipped out in the next week or two anyway, so I’ve got limited time. Let me use the time.”

  He could tell by the look on her face that she had a thousand questions: about her uncle, about his mob involvement, about Liam. Bless her, she asked none. Instead, she turned toward her father. He had gotten up off the bench and tucked Prince under his arm. Apparently, he was ready to go and intended to head out, with or without them.

  “I guess we’d better go. He’s getting antsy. I don’t want him disappearing in the crowd. I don’t know if he’s got enough wits about him right now to find his way back to your apartment.”

  “Sure. We’ll go.” Liam hesitated. “But I want to ask you something. I’d like to ask your dad about the diamonds. See what, if anything, he knows. Would that be okay?”

  She looked at her father, then back at Liam. “I can’t imagine he—” She stopped herself, and raised her hand and let it fall. “Sure. Talk to him. But I’ve tried since this whole thing went down with Uncle Donato. I’ve never heard anything about these diamonds ever. The word mafia was never brought up in our household. We barely spoke of Uncle Donato over the years. We saw him at family gatherings, he sent birthday and Christmas presents, but that was the limit of my contact with him. And now, since Uncle Donato’s murder, my father won’t answer any questions about his brother. The minute I bring up the subject, he just starts in with the crossword puzzle nonsense. But go ahead. Have a try. You going to ask him now?”

  Liam shook his head. “He’s tired. It’s time to go home. I’ll try to catch him when he’s in a good mood. Maybe feels like talking.”

  She gave a little laugh, but it was without humor. “Good luck with that. The man’s so close-mouthed, he could have been a mobster himself.”

  That night, Liam stayed awake and waited for Mai to come to his room. After the sex, he’d almost asked her to stay. He had been tired but afraid to sleep, afraid of the nightmares. How having Mai in bed with him was going to change his dreams or what happened that night, he didn’t know. He didn’t ask and she had gone back to her own room. Eventually he had slept. And dreamed.

  Last night he’d managed, in his dream, to reach the chamber where the brothers had been. He got as far as the little boy handcuffed to the cot. Then the blood had started. At first, he had just seen it at the boy’s wrists, only a drop or two. Then it had begun to pour, first from the boy’s ears and nose, then his eyes. Then the walls. The blood had slowly risen: to Liam’s ankles, then his knees, then higher. First the pedophiles had drowned in the blood. It was funny how a vampire who consumed blood, who loved blood beyond all reason, could also be so repelled by it. In the dream, he reached for the boy, tried to save him, but the child was still handcuffed to the metal frame of the cot. Eventually the blood rose over their heads in a great ocean of thick, wet, warm death. Liam woke up coughing and choking, his eyes blurry with tears. As he sat up, gasping for breath, he could still feel the blood gushing down his throat.

  Around four, he gave up on going back to sleep, rose, went for a run in the game preserve, and fed there. The blood of the deer he captured, then set free, didn’t really satisfy him, but at least it nourished him, and he walked home, his head clearer. He showered and was early for 8 a.m. Mass. He was kneeling at the back pew when Father Kahill entered the church nave by way of the chancel.

  Liam knew better than to approach him. They made eye contact, but then he went about his tasks, and soon two altar servers joined him and the congregation began to file in. Several people said good morning to Liam, but no one attempted to have a conversation with him, except for Mary Kay, Fia’s mother, who stopped to suggest that he suggest to Fia that she attend Mass more often.

  “I’m not sure anyone can tell Fia what to do, Mary Kay.” He looked up at her. “You ought to know that by now.”

  Mary Kay frowned. “Any word from your mother?”

  “Not really.”

  “We all expected her back by now. You know, to have come to her senses.” She looked around to see if anyone was listening, then, satisfied they weren’t, she leaned closer. She smelled of blueberry muffins. Mary Kay Kahill could be a royal pain in the ass, but she made the best blueberry muffins he’d ever eaten, in twenty-seven lifetimes. “You don’t think that Victor is holding her captive, do you?”

  He flashed her a mischievous grin. “More like the other way around.”

  She drew herself up, puckering her mouth. “So you’re not worried?”

  “She’ll come home, Mary Kay. She’s pissed off because the Council wouldn’t let her marry Victor, and I can see her point. My father is dead forever. Murdered. Why shouldn’t my mother find a little happiness in Victor’s arms?” He sat back against the pew. “She’ll cool down and come back eventually.”

  After his father’s death, Liam had suffered from guilt over the fact that he wasn’t here to help his mother get through the ordeal. Not that he would have had much to offer, emotionally. And it angered him that he hadn’t been able to help the sept catch the killers, but he’d been in the midst of several investigations in Europe and the High Council had insisted he remain entrenched.

  “I just thought she’d come home by now,” Mary Kay went on, “you being in all the trouble you’re in. And now with you living with that human.”

  “I’m not living with a human,” he corrected. “She’s just staying a few days. With her father.”

  “And a dog,” Mary Kay whispered conspiratorially.

  “And a dog,” he agreed, not sure what that had to do with anything.

  “Well,” Mary Kay went on, “I don’t mind saying, everyone’s talking about it and no one likes it much.” She cupped her hand around her mouth. “Everyone’s saying it doesn’t make things look good for you. That your days on the you-know-what team might be coming to an end.”

  “Oh, they are, are they? I don’t suppose you’ve heard when the Council will be discussing the matter with me? You are a member now, aren’t you?”

  “You have to have an interview first. And there’s the investigation,” she pointed out.

  He looked up at her. “I don’t suppose you know who will be conducting this interview?” Or when the hell it’s going to take place, he wanted to add.

  “No, but I’m sure you’ll hear something soon.” She looked away. “Oh, there’s Roberta. You take care now, Liam. Stop by anytime. I know how you like my muffins.”

  Liam wanted to ask if he could skip the visit and just pick up some muffins, but he let Mary Kay go.

  After Mass, he stopped for a Sunday paper for Corrato at the newsstand. While he was there, he picked up a crossword puzzle book. He found Corrato sitting out front of his shop on a chair Mai must have carried down from the kitchen. It was sunny and pleasant there and the sidewalk was wide enough that there was actually room for a café table and chairs, a possibility Liam had never considered. The rat terrier sat on the sidewalk beside him, standing guard. As Liam approached, he spotted Mai inside unwrapping pieces of china from a cardboard box. She waved.

  “Brought you the paper, Corrato.” Liam offered it. “And a crossword book.”

  The older man set the paper on his lap, removed his reading glasses from his shirt pocket, put them on, and read the cover of the book. “New York Times Wednesday Crosswords.” He looked up at Liam. “Not hard.”

  “No, sir.”

  He raised a finger. “But not easy. See, they get harder as the week goes on. It can take a man half a day to do the whole Sunday crossword puzzle in the New York Times.”

  “Yes, sir.” Liam sat down on the sidewalk beside the dog. Prince eyed him. He looked at Prince and the dog shifted his weight uneasily. Liam got the idea that the mutt was waiting for him to turn into a tiger again.

  “I know you don’t like to talk about
your brother, Corrato, but I need to ask you a couple of questions.”

  “Seven-letter word, beginning with an L, meaning—”

  “That’s not going to work with me today,” Liam interrupted.

  Surprisingly, the old man went quiet.

  “I’m not asking because I want to know your brother’s business, or yours,” he added. “And I have no intention of calling the cops or getting anyone into trouble. I’m only asking because I’m concerned about Mai’s safety.”

  “He’s looking for us, isn’t he?”

  Corrato spoke so softly that Liam had to strain to hear him.

  The old man stared straight ahead. Maybe at the coffee shop across the street. Maybe at nothing. “That’s why we’re here and not home.”

  “Yes.” Liam waited for Corrato to speak again, but when he didn’t, Liam went on. “A man named Machhione. You know him?”

  Corrato didn’t respond.

  “From what I’ve been able to figure out, your brother worked for Machhione for years.” He watched Corrato closely. The man knew how to put on a poker face. “Some people called Machhione the Weasel. That ring a bell? He was from Union, same place where you grew up, but he worked out of Brooklyn.”

  “This has nothing to do with me or my daughter,” Corrato said. He was angry; that was pretty evident. What was also evident was that he seemed to understand exactly what Liam was talking about and where he was headed. “I left Jersey in 1988.”

  “But your brother started working for the Weasel sometime in the seventies. Before Carlo DeCava disappeared.”

  “I don’t know anything about that either. What’s a four-letter word—”

  “Do you understand that Mai’s life is at risk?” Liam interrupted, looking the old man in the eye.

  Corrato stood up, tucking the paper and the crossword puzzle book under his arm. “Do you understand that the less anyone knows, the safer they are? That means you too, buster. “

  Liam was still sitting there alone on the sidewalk staring at nothing, trying to figure out what his next move was, when Kaleigh came down the sidewalk half an hour later. She wore jeans, flip-flops, and a hooded sweatshirt with the hood up, her hands shoved in the front pocket.