Jody was angry with herself for being pulled into this exchange. "It says 'free' right there on the cover."
The bum pointed to the sign hanging around his neck and tried to look tragic. "Maybe you could give me quarter for it anyway."
Jody started to walk away. The bum followed along beside her. "There's a great article on recovery groups on page ten."
She looked at him.
"Someone told me," he said.
Jody stopped. "I'll give you this if you'll leave me alone." She held out the cosmetics bag.
The bum acted as if he had to think about it. He looked her up and down, pausing at her cleavage before looking her in the eye. "Maybe we could work something out. You must be cold in that dress. I could warm you up."
"Normally," Jody said, "if I met a guy who was unemployed and illiterate who hadn't bathed in a couple of weeks, I'd be standing in a puddle with excitement, but I'm sort of in a bad mood tonight, so take this bag and give me the fucking paper before I pop your little head like a zit." She pushed the bag into his chest, knocking him back against the window of a closed camera store.
The bum offered her the paper tentatively and she snatched it from his hand.
He said, "You're a lesbian, aren't you?"
Jody screamed at him: a high, explosive, unintelligible expulsion of pure inhuman frustration — a Hendrix high note sampled and sung by a billion suffering souls in Hell's own choir. The window of the camera shop shattered and fell in shards to the sidewalk. The store alarm wailed, paltry in comparison to Jody's scream. The bum covered his ears and ran away.
"Cool," Jody said, more than a bit satisfied with herself. She opened the paper and read as she walked up the street to the club.
Outside the club Jody got in line with a crowd of well-dressed wannabees and resumed reading her paper, enjoying the stares of the men on line in her peripheral vision.
The club was called 753. It seemed to Jody that all of the new, trendy clubs had eschewed names for numbers. Kurt and his broker buddies had been big fans of the number-named clubs, which made for Monday-morning recount conversations that sounded more like equations: "We went to Fourteen Ninety-Two and Ten Sixty-Six, then Jimmy drank ten Seven-Sevens at Nineteen Seventeen, went fifty-one fifty and got eighty-sixed." Normally, that many numbers in succession would have had Kurt diving for his PC to establish trend lines and resistance levels. Jody glazed over at the mention of numbers, which would have made living with the broker a bit of an ordeal even if he hadn't been an asshole.
She thought, I wonder if Kurt will be here. I hope so. I hope he's here with the little well-bred, breastless wonder. Oh, she won't care, but he'll die a thousand jealous deaths.
Then she heard the alarm sounding down the street and thought, Maybe I should learn to channel some of this hostility.
"You, in the LED!" said the doorman.
Jody looked up from her paper.
"Go on in," the doorman said.
As she walked past the other people on line she was careful to avoid eye contact. One single guy reached out and grabbed her arm.
"Say I'm your date," he begged. "I've been waiting for two hours."
"Hi, Kurt," Jody said. "I didn't see you."
Kurt stepped back. "Oh. Oh my God. Jody?"
She smiled. "How's your head?"
He was trying to catch his breath. "Fine. It's fine. You look…"
"Thanks, Kurt. Good to see you again. I'd better get inside."
He clawed the air after her. "Could you say I'm your date?"
She turned and looked at him as if she had found him in the back of the refrigerator with green growing on him.
"I have been chosen, Kurt. You, on the other hand, are an untouchable. I don't think you'd be appropriate for the image I'm trying to project."
As she walked into the club she heard Kurt say to the next guy in line, "She's a lesbian, you know."
Jody thought, Yep, I've got to work on controlling my hostility.
The theme of 753 was Old San Francisco; actually, Old San Francisco burning down, which is largely what Old San Francisco used to do. There was an antique hand-pump fire engine in the middle of the dance floor. Cellophane flames leaped from pseudowindows driven by turbine fans. Nozzles in the ceiling drizzled dry-ice smoke over a crowd of young professionals ar-rhythmically sweating in layers of casual cotton and wool. A flannel-clad grunge rocker here; a tie-dyed and dreadlocked Rastafarian there; some neo-hippies; a sprinkling of black-eyed, white-faced New Wave holdovers — looking alienated — contemplating the next body part to have pierced; a few harmless suburban homeboys — here to bust a move, def and phat, in three-hundred-dollar giant gel-filled, glow-in-the-dark, pneumatic, NBA-endorsed sneakers. The doorman had tried to make a mix, but with fashionable micro-brewery beer going for seven bucks a bottle, the crowd was bound to overbalance to the side of privilege and form a thick yuppie scum. Cocktail waitresses in fireman helmets served reservoirs of imported water and thanked people for not smoking.
Jody slinked onto a barstool and opened her paper to avoid eye contact with a droopy-eyed drunk on the next stool. It didn't work.
" 'Scuse me, I couldn't help noticing that you were sitting down. I'm sitting down too. Small world, huh?"
Jody looked up briefly and smiled. Mistake.
"Can I buy you a drink?" the drunk asked.
"Thanks, I don't drink," she said, thinking, Why did I come here? What did I hope to accomplish?
"It's my hair, isn't it?"
Jody looked at the guy. He was about her age and balding, not quite finished with what looked like a bad hair-transplant job. His scalp looked as if it had been strafed with a machine gun full of plugs. She felt bad for him.
"No, I really don't drink."
"How about a mineral water?"
"Thanks. I don't drink anything."
From the stool behind her a man's voice. "She'll drink this."
She turned to see a glass filled with a thick, red-black liquid being pushed in front of her by a bone-white hand. The index and middle finger seemed a little too short.
"They're still growing back," the vampire said.
Jody recoiled from him so hard she nearly went over backward on her barstool. The vampire caught her arm and steadied her.
"Hey, buddy," said Hair Plugs, "hands off."
The vampire let go of Jody's arm, reached across to put his hand on Hair Plugs's shoulder, and held him fast to his seat. The drunk's eyes went wide. The vampire smiled.
"She'll rip out your throat and drink your blood as you die. Is that what you want?"
Hair Plugs shook his head violently. "No, I already have an ex-wife."
The vampire released him. "Go away."
Hair Plugs slid off the stool and ran off into the crowd on the dance floor. Jody leaped to her feet and started to follow him. The vampire caught her arm and wheeled her around.
"Don't," he said.
Jody caught his wrist and began to squeeze. A human arm would have been reduced to mush. The vampire grinned. Jody locked eyes with him. "Let go."
"Sit," he said.
"Murderer."
The vampire threw his head back and laughed. The bartender, a burly jock type, looked up, then looked away. Just another loud drunk.
"I can take you," Jody said, not really believing it. She wanted to break loose and run.
The vampire, still smiling, said, "It would make an interesting news story, wouldn't it? 'Pale Couple Destroys Club in Domestic Disagreement. Shall we?"
Jody let go of his wrist but stayed locked on his eyes. They were black, showing no iris. "What do you want?"
The vampire broke the stare and shook his head. "Little fledgling, I want your company, of course. Now sit."
Jody climbed back onto the stool and stared into the glass before her.
"That's better. It's almost over, you know. I didn't think you would last this long, but alas, it must come to an end. The game has become a bit too public. You have to bre
ak from the cattle now. They don't understand you. You are not one of them anymore. You are their enemy. You know it, don't you? You've known it since your first kill. Even your little pet knows it."
Jody started to shake. "How did you get into the loft to get Tommy's book?"
The vampire grinned again. "One develops certain talents over time. You're still young, you wouldn't understand."
Part of Jody wanted to slam her fist into his face and run, yet another part wanted answers to all the questions that had been running through her mind since the night she was changed.
"Why me? Why did you do this to me?"
The vampire stood up and patted her on the shoulder. "It's almost over. The sadness of having a pet is that they always die on you. At the end of the night, you are alone. You'll know that feeling very soon. Drink up." He turned and walked away.
Jody watched him leave, relieved that he was gone, but at the same time disappointed. There were so many questions.
She picked up the glass, smelled the liquid, and nearly gagged.
The bartender snickered. "I never had an order for a double of straight grenadine before. Can I get you something else?"
"No, I've got to go catch him."
She picked up her paper, got up, ran up the steps and out of the club. She found that if she stayed on the balls of her feet, she could actually run in the high-heeled pumps. Chalk one up for vampire strength, she thought.
She grabbed the doorman by the shoulder and swung him around. "Did you see a thin, pale guy in black just leave?"
"That way." The doorman pointed east on Geary. "He was walking."
"Thanks," Jody tossed over her shoulder as she took to the sidewalk, waiting to break into a run until she was out of sight from the club. She ran a block before taking off the pumps and carrying them. The street was empty; only the buzz of wires and the soft padding of her feet on the sidewalk broke the silence.
She'd run ten blocks when she spotted him, a block away, leaning against a lamppost.
He turned and looked at her as she pulled up.
"So, fledgling, what are you going to do when you catch me?" he asked in a soft voice, knowing she would hear. "Kill me? Break off a signpost and drive it though my heart? Rip my head from my shoulders and play puppet with it while my body flops around on the sidewalk?" The vampire pantomimed flopping, rolled his eyes, and grinned.
Jody said nothing. She didn't know what she was going to do. She hadn't thought about it. "No," she said. "How can I stop you from killing Tommy?"
"They always betray you, you know. It's in their nature."
"What if I leave? Don't tell him where I'm going?"
"He knows we exist. We have to hide, fledgling. Always. Completely."
Jody felt strangely calm. Perhaps it was hearing the "we." Maybe it was talking in a normal voice to someone a block away. Whatever it was, she wasn't afraid, not for herself, anyway. She said, "If we have to hide, why all the killings?"
The vampire laughed again. "Did you ever have a cat bring you a bird it had killed?"
"Why?"
"Presents, fledgling. Now if you are going to kill me, please do. If not, go play with your pet while you can."
He turned and walked away.
"Wait!" Jody called. "Did you pull me through the basement window?"
"No," the vampire said without looking back. "I am not interested in saving you. And if you follow me, you will find out exactly how a vampire can be killed."
Gotcha, asshole, Jody thought. He had saved her.
Chapter 27
Bridging the Boredom
Half past midnight. He stood at the top of the southwest tower of the Oakland Bay Bridge, some fifty stories above the gunmetal-cold bay, thinking, Jump or dive? He wore a black silk suit and he paused for a moment, regretting that the suit would be ruined. He liked the feel and flow of silk on his skin. Oh well.
Two miles away Jody was walking up Market Street wishing that she could just get drunk and pass out. I wonder, she thought, if I found someone who was really drunk and drank his blood? No, this damn system of mine would probably identify alcohol as a poison and fight the effects. So many questions. If only I'd remembered to ask them.
She stopped at a phone booth and called Tommy at the store.
"Marina Safeway."
"Tommy, it's me."
"Are you still mad?"
"Not mad enough, I guess. I just wanted to tell you to stay in the store until after daylight. Don't go outside for any reason. And stay around the other guys if you can."
"Why? What's the matter?"
"Just do as I say, Tommy."
"I cleaned up the loft. Mostly, anyway."
"We'll talk about it tomorrow night. Stay at home until I wake up, okay?"
"Are you still going to be pissed?"
"Probably. I'll see you then. Good-bye." She hung up. How could he be so smart sometimes and so ignorant other times? Maybe the vampire was right, a human could never understand her. She suddenly felt very lonely.
She ducked into an all-night diner and ordered a cup of coffee as rent on a booth. She still could enjoy the smell of coffee, even if she couldn't keep it down.
She opened the paper she had bought from the bum with her cosmetics bag and began to read through the personals. "Men Seeking Women," "Women Seeking Men," "Men Seeking Men," "Women Seeking Women," "Men Seeking Small Fuzzy Animals"; there was a wide selection of categories. She scanned over the more mundane entries until her eye settled on one under "Support Groups." "Are You a Vampire? You don't have to face your problem alone. Blood Drinkers Anonymous can help. Mon.-Fri. Midnight. Rm. 212 Asian Cultural Center, Non-Smoking."
It was Friday. It was midnight. She was only ten minutes from the Asian Cultural Center. Could it be this simple?
The first thing she noticed when she walked into room 212 of the Asian Cultural Center is that all of the people sitting in a circle in molded plastic chairs, all twenty of them, were giving off heat signatures. They were all human.
She was backing out of the door when a pear-shaped woman in a leotard and black cape intercepted her and took her hand.
"Welcome," said the woman. She sported a set of rather wicked-looking fangs that caused her to lisp. "I'm Tabitha. We're just getting ready to start. Come on in. There's coffee and cookies."
She led Jody to an orange plastic chair and urged her to sit down. "It's hard the first time, but everyone here has been where you are."
"Not bloody likely," Jody said, wiping a speck of Tabitha's spittle from her cheek.
Tabitha pointed to a plastic medallion that hung from her neck by a heavy silver chain. "See this chip? I've been clean and bloodless for six months. If I can do it, so can you. One night at a time."
Tabitha squeezed her arm, then threw her cape over her shoulder, turned dramatically, and stalked across the room to the cookie table, her cape billowing behind her.
Jody looked at the other occupants of the room. All were talking, most were sneaking looks at her between sips of coffee. The men were all tall and thin with protruding Adam's apples and bad skin. Their dress ranged from business suits to jeans and flannel. They might have been a chess club out for the evening if not for the capes. To a man, they wore capes. Four of seven had fangs. Two sets of four were made of glow-in-the-dark plastic.
Jody focused on two of them whispering in the corner. "I told you, this is a babe-fest. Did you see the redhead?" He sneaked a look.
His partner said, "I think I saw her at Compulsive Cleaners last week."
"Compulsive Cleaners, I was going to try that. How are the odds?"
"Lots of gay guys, but a few babes. Mostly they smell like Pine Sol, but it's hot if you like latex gloves."
"Cool, I'll check it out. I think I'm going to quit going to Adult Children of Alcoholics, everybody's looking to blame, no one's looking to get laid."
Jody thought, I don't know if I want to hear quiet desperation this clearly. She changed her focus to the women in
the room.
A six-foot-two brunette woman in a black choir robe and Kabuki-like makeup was complaining to a washed-out blonde wearing a tattered wedding dress. "They want to be tied up, I tie them up. They want to be spanked, I spank them. They want to be called names, I call them names. But try and drink a little of their blood, and they scream like babies. What about my needs?"
"I know," said the blonde. "I asked Robert to sleep in the coffin one time and he left."
"You have a coffin? I want a coffin."
Christ, Jody thought, I've got to get out of here.
Tabitha clapped her hands. "Let's get the meeting started!"
Those who were standing found seats. Several men tried to shove their way into the seats next to Jody. A skinny geek with peanut-butter breath leaned in to her and said, "I was on 'Oprah' on Halloween. 'Men who drink blood and the women who find them disgusting. If you want, you can come by my place and watch the tape after the meeting."
"I'm out of here," Jody said. She jumped up and headed for the door.
Behind her she heard Tabitha saying, "Hi, I'm Tabitha and I'm a bloodsucking fiend."
"Hi, Tabitha," the group said in chorus.
Outside Jody looked up and down the street wondering which way to go, what to do. She paused by a phone booth, realizing that there was no one she could call. Tears welled in her eyes. Why even bother to hope? The only person who had the slightest idea how she felt was the vampire who had made her. And he had made it clear that he wasn't interested in helping her — the evil fucker.
I should set him up with my mother, she thought, then the two of them can look down on humanity together. The thought made her smile.
Then the phone rang. She looked at it for a second, looked around for someone else who would answer it, but except for a guy standing by his car a couple of blocks away, the street was empty.
She picked up the phone. "Hello."
A man's voice said, "I thought you would show up here eventually."
"Who is this?" Jody asked. The man sounded young, his voice was unfamiliar.
"I can't tell you that yet."
"Okay," Jody said.
"Bye."
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