"Are you following me?" he asked.
"What? Are you paranoid or something? I've never seen you before in my life, pal." John said. "If you recognize me or saw me twice tonight, it's merely a coincidence. Why would I follow you?"
"That's what I would like to know." he replied coldly.
"I'm taking a shortcut through the alley," John glanced past the man to the flashing neon sign. "to the Blue Tortoise bar."
He didn't turn to look. He never shifted his gaze for a moment from Father Bryant's face. "Of course you are." His voice was filled with patronizing undertones. "Why did you choose such a sinister path?"
"Pardon me?"
"Alleys are not safe byways to travel. One doesn't know what kind of villainous persons lie in wait to accost the unsuspecting traveller." The dark angel said sweetly.
"What?"
"Fine." The vampire looked at him like he was an idiot. "To say it simply and inelegantly; you could’ve chosen a safer route."
"If you get out of my way I'll leave this alley." John stepped around the figure and set a quick pace. He would be out of the alley in moments. Immediately John felt a presence at his side. He didn't hear footsteps, but knew the man was right next to him keeping pace. John turned to look. With the slowness of a lizard in the cold, the man turned his head and smiled at John. White teeth glimmered in the dim light. Did John see fangs? He wasn't sure. He could feel those bright eyes on him after he quickly looked away.
"I thought I'd give you an escort out of the alley. Just to keep you safe."
"Thank you, no." John said curtly. His flimsy composure was beginning to slip. Fear bubbled up threatening to become a full blown, run from the danger, panic.
"I'll join you for a drink."
John cringed at the comment. "I drink alone." he said. He was almost to the end of the alley. He could see people walking by. Once on the street he would be safe from the vampire next to him. But right now it could easily overpower him and drag him further back into the alley if it chose. Such an act might go unnoticed from the street.
"No one should drink alone. One gets depressing thoughts when one drinks alone." said the smiling man.
"This one likes to drink alone." As John finished the statement they were suddenly out of the alley and on the street. No one paid much attention to the pair emerging from the alley. "Have a good night." John hastily crossed the street, jaywalking had not been his intent but he felt the need to escape immediately. He bypassed the Blue Tortoise bar and walked through the crowds on the street. As he walked he glanced behind him to see if he was now being followed. There was no one obvious. This meant nothing. He had made a mistake following the man from the church. A better plan would have been to check out the church in the daytime. His actions tonight could have gotten him killed.
John needed a moment to rest, calm his nerves. Maybe a drink would help him. A bar was up ahead. At the door to a bar he stopped. He gazed intently up and down the street to see if his stalker could be found. When he decided it was safe, he pulled open the door and entered.
The inside of the bar was dimly lit and moderately crowded. Smoke hung in the air. John sat at an empty space at the bar and motioned to the bartender. The young man came over and set a napkin in front of him.
"What can I get you?"
The bartender's badge gave John his name. "Johnny Walker Red, neat, please, Joey." John stole a look around the bar as he pulled out his wallet.
"Is there something wrong, sir?" Joey noticed his perturbed state.
"No. I think not." John said glancing around the bar. "Everything seems to be fine."
The bartender pulled a bottle of Johnny Walker from the speed rail and grabbed a rocks glass. He poured in two fingers of whiskey with a practiced hand and placed the drink on the napkin. "That will be $5."
John took a charge card out of his wallet when a haunting voice next to him spoke. "How's it going, Joey?" The man from the church and the alley was next to him. Blood drained from John's face. John turned to look at the mysterious threatening figure.
"Why are you badgering me?" John handed the MasterCharge to Joey.
"Do you want to open a tab?" Joey asked.
"No. Close it out. Thanks." John was curt and a bit desperate. He felt trapped. Even if this man were not a vampire, he was playing with him.
Joey regarded both of them for a moment. "I'm doing pretty good, Ice. You?"
John snapped back and looked at the bartender. What was going on? Did Joey know the stranger who was harassing him? Joey had an odd look on his face, a mixture of fear and awe and dark desire.
"I’m good. I'll have the usual." Ice said without paying the frightened man next to him any attention.
"Sure thing, Ice." Joey turned and went to the cash register. He ran a slip on the credit card slider and brought the bill back for John to sign. John added a tip and signed the slip. He took the carbons from his transaction and put it into his coat pocket. He pulled out his wallet and put the charge card away.
There was an oppressive silence surrounding the two men even though they were in a noisy bar. Neither spoke. John dreaded the silence and Ice luxuriated in it. Each breath John took was like a hurricane gale in the encompassing quiet. Ice sat patiently. Non-threatening. Sipping a drink from a coffee cup the bartender brought him. John noticed there was no money exchanged. Abruptly John spoke first.
"Ice?" John asked. "That's your name?"
"I go by that name." Ice replied. A satisfied smile crept slowly over his countenance. The fish was on the hook. "It's not my given name, of course."
"What's your Christian name?" John asked as innocently as he could. If he could get the man talking he might learn something. He might glean some information, or it might give him time to figure out an escape. He didn't know what the man intended, but it felt dangerous, dire. He was a mouse and Ice was the cat. The mouse wanted to survive the encounter.
Ice cast a furtive, sidelong glance at John, his face showed only mild amusement. "I haven't gone by my Christian name for some time." Ice's voice was touched by bitter sentiment. "It was a lifetime ago. I don't need it." Ice slowly turned the coffee cup, he watched as the light shimmered off the liquid. Condensation was on the outside of the cup so John could tell it was cold. There was no ice in the cup so the liquid itself was cold enough to condense water vapor from the air.
John was shocked to think a vampire might have humans who would willingly help them. There was probably an agreement of some kind. Money, or something more. Maybe they were would be victims who had struck bargains with the creatures so they wouldn't be killed. If humans were helping the vampires at the church or the one sitting next to him, it would complicate his nascent plan. How many might there be? Killing a vampire is one thing. Killing the humans helping them is murder.
John looked at the mirror behind the bar as he was thinking. Sitting next to him was his tormentor. John glanced next to him and then to the mirror. Ice was looking him in the eyes.
"Problem?" Ice smiled into the mirror as he asked.
"No." John replied. Ice cast a reflection. Another part of vampire lore was wrong; they can be seen in mirrors. Or maybe Ice was a man. John's whole idea of vampire hunting was coming apart. He had found them in a church. Or maybe he had just found a pale, charismatic preacher. He was being stalked by one. Or maybe it was just a guy who liked to freak people out. The reality of killing Sean was so remote now. Was it even real?
John downed the whiskey in one gulp. If he was going to be killed by a vampire tonight, he might as well get on with it. This would be interesting. Would Ice follow him out of the bar? Was the cat now tired of the mouse and would let him leave without being molested further? John quickly got off the barstool and walked to the door without a word. He didn't look back as he opened the door and exited onto the street. He quickly hailed a cab. His rental car was back to the restaurant. He needed to get it before he decided his next move. Should he continue his quest, or quit and return to Colorado?
Once ensconced in the back of the cab did he finally turn to see if he was being followed. Would riding in a car it matter? Ice had found him at that bar without too much trouble. Maybe he could find John or follow him without being seen. His paranoia was starting to rise.
Ice watched John leave in the mirror. He motioned Joey over. "Can I see that man's credit slip?" A request and a bit of a command. Joey went to the cash register and found the credit card slip John signed. Joey handed the slip to Ice. He took note of the name and number imprinted into the slip by the sliding machine. "Joey, I need the phone."
When the phone was in front of him, Ice dialed the church office. It was always staffed day or night. "Amanda, it's Ice. I need you to call MasterCharge and track down a name and card number for me. It's someone here in town. I want to know where they are staying. Probably at a hotel I think. Not one of the expensive ones if I’m right." Ice hung up the phone and went back to contemplating the liquid in the coffee cup.
Having a business which dealt with credit cards sometimes proved useful.
Chapter 7
Knock Knock Knock
Ice walked up to the Travel Lodge. The information from the credit card company led him to the motel away from the Strip. It was the typical two story motel structure in a U shape, with three sets of stairs leading up to the second level. There was parking all around the perimeter of the rooms and around the pool at the center of the courtyard. It was a short stay, no frills place. There was a bed and a bathroom and not much else. The credit card company said this was where the man Ice had run into on the street was staying. There was something about him. He seemed to intuitively know about Ice, understand what he was; the man was afraid of him. The most surprising thing he learned from the credit card company was this man’s occupation. He was a Catholic priest. They hadn’t had a threat from the Catholic Church for decades. Belief in real supernatural creatures was uncommon in 1987. The church might still have its rare exorcisms for demons and demonic possession, but belief in vampires was not to be expected. Malcolm told stories of pious people being a threat to him but Ice had never personally experienced it in his relatively young, 140 years, of unnatural life. Humans were easy to fool, easy to beguile. Their own reality would deny the truth even as it drained their blood.
Ice walked through the parking lot and looked at the cars. All were from out of state. Most were from California and Arizona. A few cars were from states which were further away. The credit card company said the priest was from Colorado. Ice looked around the parking lot, making sure he was not observed. The priest had a rented car at the airport. There were several in the lot. He knew which rental company the man was using. One car had a license frame from the rental company. The Ford Taurus should be the his car. He looked in the window. Inside was a map on the passenger seat but other than that, it was clean.
Ice walked quietly up the stairs. The front desk provided him with the priest’s room number. He was listening, wary. Ice might be reckless in some situations but this wasn’t one of them. His adversary believed in magical thinking, so belief in vampires was not too much of a stretch.
A light was on in the priest’s room. A sliver of amber leaked through the drawn curtains. Ice stopped at the door and listened. There was sound of movement, but no TV or radio could be heard. The priest wasn't asleep even though it was after two a.m.
John was startled by the sharp knock at the motel door. He glanced at the clock by the bed. 2:20 a.m. He wasn’t expecting anyone and no one knew he was staying at the motel. Packing his belongings couldn’t have been loud enough to disturb the rooms to either side of him. His luggage lay open on the bed. On the floor hidden by the bed was a small open bag with stakes and a small sledgehammer. He was almost finished packing and was about to leave to search for a new hotel or motel. He didn’t feel safe after encountering Ice three times. Seeing the vampire the first time had been and accident. Finding him wandering the Strip had been another accident. Having him follow and taunt him at the bar scared the hell out of John. Had Ice found him again?
John cautiously approached the door and looked through the eyehole. There was no one there. Had it been a random knock in the night? A mistake by someone looking for another room? He turned away.
Knock, knock, knock.
John spun back to the door. His heart rate quickened. He crossed to the window and moved the curtain slightly to peer out. The movement of the curtain could have been a draft in a old motel. No one could be seen outside. He walked back toward his luggage to resume packing. He was spooked. The whole night had gone from a pleasant surprise to being terrifyingly real.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Here’s a knocking indeed. If a man were porter of hell-gate, he should have old turning of the key.” John whispered. The lines from Shakespeare’s Macbeth were apt, though the joke did little to calm his fear. Outside the room Ice heard his prey whisper the line. He smiled. The man had an education.
John approached the door. The security chain was on, the deadbolt was locked and so was the doorknob. Again he looked out the eyehole. Still no one was to be seen. He slowly, quietly unlocked the deadbolt and unlocked the door knob. John cracked the door slightly and looked out. There was no one in sight. Opening the door as wide as the security chain allowed, he looked both directions. Nothing. He shut the door.
Instantly.
Knock, knock, knock.
John took a deep breath and opened the door again. Ice stood as still as a statue in front of the door. A coy smile crossed his lips. John slammed the door shut and turned the deadbolt and locked the door handle.
"Hello, John." Ice’s voice was whispered but still pierced the door. "Or should I call you Father Bryant?"
"Jesus Christ." John whispered.
"Is he in there with you?" Ice asked. Of course he had heard John’s exasperated exclamation. "I don’t think even he could assist you now."
“Shit.” John whispered. He stepped back from the door and quickly looked around the room. He was in a sealed concrete box two stories above the ground. In the bag on the floor were the white thorn stakes he had made. His research into vampires said white thorn wood was the most effective when killing vampires. It had magical powers. “How ironic.” John thought. “A Catholic priest using magic to fight a mythical creature.” He pulled a stake from the bag. Ice continued to speak through the door.
“John, Father, why don’t you open the door? You don’t have another way out. The bathroom window is small and twenty feet off the ground. You’d break a leg trying to jump out even if you could wriggle your way out.” Ice said. “Let’s chat.”
Ice was right. He was trapped. Daylight was hours away. He had to act, had to do something. It needed to be surprising and decisive. John figured he had one ace in the hole. He walked back to the door and unlocked the deadbolt and the door knob.
Ice heard him walk to the door. What was the priest doing? Ice could breach the door easily. It was no barrier for his strength. Ice wanted to know what he was doing in Las Vegas. Was it chance he had stumbled into the vampire church? Was it chance again when he ended up following Ice down the street?
The door opened a crack. Ice leaned his right shoulder against the wall near the door jamb. His face filled the space created by the chain.
“Hello,” Ice purred, “why are you here?”
“Las Vegas?” John was angled away from the door. The door blocked Ice from seeing the stake in his right hand. “Vacation. I have a new system for counting cards.”
“Funny,” Ice said, “Las Vegas is a strange place for a priest to vacation. Wouldn’t the Vatican or Rome be better suited to your... life?”
“Maybe,” John replied. “But I love Rodney Dangerfield. Will he ever get respect?”
“Why were you at the church tonight?”
“Your church? You know I’m a priest, you do the math.”
“You weren’t looking for us?”
“Us? Who is the us you refer to?�
� John asked pointedly. “I’m in the God business. I also find evangelicals fascinating. It is mind boggling to me what the congregants believe. I don’t understand why they weep and crawl on the ground. It was research.”
“So it was chance, a mere accident you were there? You were just looking for pointers.”
“Yes. 100% dumb luck.” John smirked.
“100% bad luck I'd say.” Ice was still appeared calm but was feeling more and more agitated.
“Who is us?" John asked as innocently as he could.
Ice looked at him intently. “I do think you know, but how you know or why you know I couldn’t guess.” Ice sighed a long sigh. “The real question is; what do we do now?”
“You could leave me the fuck alone.”
“I don't think that’s possible.” Ice whispered.
“I can stay here until dawn. You can’t enter and I’m never going to give you permission.” John said smugly.
Ice stepped back from the door. Father Bryant confirmed he knew what Ice was. The priest had stupidly admitted it. Something had to be done. Something needed to be done now. There was still the game to play, pieces on the board to move. Ice looked both ways on the second floor landing and turned around to survey the parking lot; deserted. He knew the priest was watching his every move. He turned back to face the door. For dramatic effect Ice looked, searched the entire door frame and door as if trying to figure a way in. A frown crossed his face.
In a blink Ice stepped to the door; his hand pressed it open with enough strength to break the security chain. Links of the woefully inadequate barrier fell to the floor. Ice caught the door before it slammed into the wall and stepped into the room, closing it behind him.
A surprised and terrified Father Bryant stumbled back. He wasn’t prepared to have the vampire snap the chain and enter the room. He angled his body and hid the stake in his right hand behind his back. Hopefully Ice hadn’t seen the weapon.
Blood Stakes Page 7