by Matt Kincade
Carmen watched him for a moment. She leaned in, tentatively, and brushed a few strands of hair away from his face. He didn’t move. She cocked her head and smiled a little, still herding that one errant lock of hair behind his ear. Her pulse quickened. She leaned in farther…
Alex snorted and shifted in his sleep. Carmen straightened up abruptly, blushing, and limped away.
She found Jen out on the steps of the back porch. She wore a tight white tank top and the same camo pants. The dragon tattoo that ran from her left shoulder to her left wrist seemed to writhe as she raised her cigarette to her lips. For the first time, Carmen noticed the rest of the tattoo: an armored knight astride a white stallion, facing the dragon with a raised lance. Next to Jen, a red Bic lighter, a bottle of water, and a compact handgun sat on the step.
Jen turned when she heard the sliding door open. She held up a pack of Camels. “You smoke?”
“No.” Carmen, still getting used to the crutches, eased through the door.
“You’re smart. It’s a disgusting habit. I should quit. But…” she regarded the burning cigarette between her fingers. “…this business makes it hard to worry about long-term health risks.” She took another drag.
“I can understand that.” Carmen fumbled with the crutches and managed to ease down into a deck chair. “How is he?”
“Not great,” she said. She stared out into the stand of cottonwoods. Songbirds trilled in the crisp morning air.
“How not great?”
“I don’t know exactly.” Jen stood up. She took her pistol and her cigarettes and moved to the patio chair next to Carmen. “He’s in rough shape. And the worst of the damage is internal. Stuff I couldn’t get to without surgery. I know some people at hospitals who would help out, but…frankly, moving him again might be more dangerous than waiting it out.” She shrugged. “He’s a fighter. If anybody can make it, he can. He’ll make it.”
“You two seem pretty close.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty fond of that dumb hick.”
Carmen hesitated then said, “Are you and he…an item?”
With an amused smirk, Jen flicked ashes from her cigarette. “You mean romantically? No. Not into men so much.”
“Oh. Oh…”
Jen leaned back in her chair. “So, why do you ask? About me and Alex, I mean.”
Carmen shrugged. “No reason. Just curious.”
For a moment, neither one spoke. Jen pondered the glowing tip of her cigarette. Finally she turned her eyes towards Carmen. She said, “He’s not a bad looking guy though, right?”
“Well…I guess…”
Jen smiled knowingly. “You guess.”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing. I just felt like I picked up a little more than platonic concern last night. And this morning, did I or did I not see you damned near lean down and kiss him on the forehead?”
Carmen blushed deep crimson. “I wasn’t—” She paused. “You saw that.”
“Eyes like a hawk,” said Jen. “So, what’s the story, morning glory? I know it gets lonely out there on the road, death right around the corner…things happen. Are you and Alex…” Jen made an obscene gesture with her cigarette.
“No!”
Jen laughed. “Okay, okay. But you’re into him.”
For a long time, Carmen looked down at the table. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“That was actually more of a statement than a question. You’re into him. Nothing wrong with that, he’s a good guy.”
She smiled. “Yeah. He is. I just…” She touched the still tender wound on her neck. “Finding my sister is my first priority, and I don’t know if I…”
“No, it’s okay. You went through something awful. A vampire attack is traumatic. Nobody’s going to blame you if you’re not ready. Least of all Alex.”
“It… Here’s the thing. I’ve been…attacked…before. More than once. When that vampire attacked me, it…I guess it brought up some old stuff. Stuff I thought I was done with.” When Jen looked over, she saw tears in Carmen’s dark eyes. “I swore it wouldn’t ever happen to me again, you know? I worked out. I took martial arts. I learned to shoot a gun. I became a cop, for God’s sake! And then I came up against that vampire, and none of it meant shit. I shot him four times, right in the chest, and he didn’t even care. It was like something out of a nightmare. He just…”
“Hey, it’s okay.”
Carmen let out a bitter laugh. “Maybe I look like I’ve got it together, but when it comes to romance, I’m a fucking mess. I just put up this wall, and I avoid the whole subject.”
Jen scooted her chair closer and put an arm on Carmen’s forearm. “Hey, it’s not your fault. You know that, right? You’ve lived through more than most people ever will. And let me tell you a little secret. Alex, under all that charm and the dopey cowboy act, he’s a fucking mess too. He’s got some serious intimacy issues. But believe me when I say I’ve seen some of the worst of what men are capable of. So coming from me, this is saying something. Alex is one of the good guys. I think he’d be worth your trouble.”
“What happened to him?” Carmen asked. “Why is he the way he is?”
Jen was quiet for a long time. “I don’t think it’s my place to tell you. He’ll tell you his story in his own time. When he’s ready.”
“So why are you telling me all this?”
Jen laughed. “Because he needs to get laid? Seriously, though, because he likes the hell out of you. I can see it. And I think maybe, under that aloof, frosty exterior, you might like him a little bit. Or am I imagining things?” Carmen didn’t answer. “Anyway, I want him to be happy. He deserves a little damned happiness.”
***
Carmen lay in the bathtub, her injured foot propped up awkwardly above the waterline. The water, once scalding hot, was fast approaching tepid, and her fingers were wrinkled up like raisins. “All good things must end,” she sighed, and pulled the plug. As the water drained, she reached for her crutches and used them to maneuver to the edge of the tub, where she dried off and dressed.
When Carmen left the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel, Jen had coffee on, and Alex was awake.
He smiled weakly. “Hey there, darlin’.”
“Hey, Alex. How are you feeling?”
“Feel like I got ate by wolves and shit over a cliff.”
Carmen laughed despite herself. “Sorry to hear that. Does it hurt much?”
“Only when I’m sexy. So, yeah, pretty much all the time.”
Then Jen jammed a thermometer in his ear. “Ow, goddamn it! Easy, woman! Whatcha think you’re doin’?”
“You seem like you’re doing better,” said Jen.
Alex shrugged. “You know me. Tougher’n a two-dollar steak.”
“That’s great. Because I’m sick of babysitting you, and I could use some sleep. Carmen?”
“Yeah?”
Jen pointed to the little box on the floor that a tangle of monitor wires flowed to. “See this screen? Here’s heart rate, blood pressure, intercranial pressure… well it measures all kinds of things. Basically, if any of this stuff gets wonky or stops or makes beeping noises, wake me up. If Alex gets pale or passes out or starts talking crazy talk, wake me up. If blood starts spraying everywhere, wake me up. Otherwise, I don’t want to hear from either of you for six to eight hours.” She went into Alex’s bedroom and shut the door.
Carmen awkwardly sat on the floor next to Alex, placing the crutches next to the couch. “I’m sorry,” she said. She took his hand. “This is all my fault. You knew something was off. You wanted to wait. I should have listened.”
Alex weakly raised his head off the pillow. “Ain’t nobody’s fault. Shit just happens sometimes. Name of the game.”
She met his eyes. “You were right, and I was wrong. I just wanted to say that.”
“Ain’t nothin’,” said Alex. “But you was right too. Clock is tickin’. We still gotta find that sister of yours before—”
Carmen placed
his hand on her shoulder. She sighed, her eyes downcast. “My sister is dead.”
“Hey, you don’t know—”
“No. It’s silly to believe that. I know better. She might be alive, but it’s not damned likely. It’s time for me to let go. The thing is, for all this effort, it’s likely she’s dead. And we’re alive. You’re alive. It’s selfish of me to ask you to risk your life for such a slim chance. And there’s no way I could do this without you.” She smiled. “Besides, I kind of like you not dead.”
Alex grinned stupidly. “Shucks.”
“So, the thing is, a few weeks isn’t going to make any difference. When you’re back up to full speed, we’ll get back to it. This vampire—Don Carlos—he’s been around a long time. He can wait a few more weeks to die.”
“You still game, even though Mia…”
“Well, yeah,” she said, “There’s always revenge. Nobody hurts my sister and gets away with it.”
“So…” said Alex. “You’re gonna hang around? Don’t you have a job to go to or somethin’?”
Carmen said nothing for a moment. “I don’t have a job.”
“Thought you was a cop.”
“I was.” She smiled thinly. “Like I said, I was only on the department for six months. I asked for time off to go take care of my sister. They wouldn’t give it to me. So I quit.”
“Well, you got someplace you gotta go pay rent at? Houseplants to water?”
“Rent isn’t due for a few more weeks. I guess I could always mail a check in.”
“So you’re stickin’ around?”
“Yeah, I guess I’m sticking around. For now. If that’s okay.”
Alex beamed. “Well, that’s just fine.”
Carmen leaned her head back against Alex. He winced at the pain in his ribs, but he didn’t try to stop her.
***
The sun climbed higher, taking the chill off of the morning air, shining warmly on Carmen’s back as she pulled the duffel bag from the back seat of the Audi. The tan leather upholstery was crusted with dried blood and chips of safety glass. She heaved the bag over her shoulder; somehow it hadn’t seemed as heavy the night before. She managed with a single crutch and dragged the bag back to the house. She glanced at the couch and saw Alex asleep again. She opened the bag and began to unpack.
A pair of binoculars. An infrared camera in a case. A half dozen loaded magazines. A laptop. A crowbar and an assortment of hand tools. A coil of climbing rope and a folding grappling hook. A ski mask. Stacks of cash. She got to the bottom of the bag and realized it wasn’t empty. She fiddled with the zippers and found a second compartment on the bottom. The bag was made for baseball players, with a separate, longer compartment for bats. Carmen unzipped it and found two cloth-wrapped packages. One was the Spanish rapier, wrapped in a T-shirt. She set it aside. The second package was wrapped in fine silk, buttery to the touch. She untied a single knot and the silk fell away.
She held a gleaming, black-lacquered sheath in her hand, topped by a cloth-wrapped handle, the graceful curve broken only by a tiny round guard. Carmen used her thumb to push the blade an inch out of the scabbard and grasped the handle. She understood then that it wasn’t a cloth wrap but some sort of fine leather. She pulled the sword free of the scabbard. The blade glistened like a wet mirror. She turned it in the light, watching the pattern ripple. The hamon, the temper line, ran like a wisp of cloud along the back of the blade. Engraved on the blade was the legend “For Alex.” She turned it. The other side said, “Protector of Men.” She pointed the blade toward a window and sighted down the curve of it. She noticed something and turned the blade around again.
The tiny round hand guard was engraved with a picture of a young Elvis Presley. “Oh, Jesus Christ.” Carmen rolled her eyes and slid the sword back into the scabbard.
***
Carmen and Jen once again sat out on the broad wooden deck behind Alex’s house. The afternoon was hot and still.
“Four days is pushing it a little bit,” said Jen, as she gently unwrapped Carmen’s ankle. “But it looks like the swelling’s gone down, at least. How’s it feel?”
“Okay,” said Carmen. She rolled her foot through its range of motion.
“Why don’t you give it a test drive. Carefully.”
Carmen stood up without the aid of her crutches and walked to the end of the lawn and back. “It still hurts a little, but I can put weight on it.”
“You’re a fast healer.”
Carmen shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of practice lately.”
“Now just be careful with it. Just because you’re done with the crutches doesn’t mean you’re healed yet. Ease back into—” Jen’s phone rang. She picked it up from the patio table and answered it. “Yeah? Okay. Where? No, I mean where on the body. Did it pass through? How’s the bleeding?” She sighed in frustration. “I mean, describe the bleeding. Red? Purple? A stream? A fountain? Okay. Okay. Look, just keep direct pressure on it, and try not to move around too much. Yeah. I know you know. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She ended the call. “I have to go,” she said.
“What happened?” asked Carmen.
“Same thing that always happens,” she said with a weary look. “Work-related injury.” She stood up and headed into the house. Carmen followed her. Jen gestured toward Alex as they entered the living room. “I think we’re out of the woods. Alex is on the mend. He just needs some time. I think you can handle it from here on out. Okay?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Great. Just don’t let him stand up for another week or so. Then make him take it easy. You hear that, Alex?”
Alex smiled his lopsided smile. “If it ain’t easy, I don’t take it.”
Jen rolled her eyes. “Yeah, he’s gonna be fine. I made a call, and somebody’s going to come up here tomorrow and get rid of that Audi for you and drop off something that isn’t hot. So you think you can handle this?”
Carmen nodded. “Yeah. I think so. Thanks for everything, Jen.”
“No problem. You just take care of Alex for me. Remember, don’t let him go and hurt himself again. Call me if anything happens. Hopefully I’ll be back around again in a week or so.” She hugged Carmen then went over and kissed Alex on the forehead. “You two take care.” She picked up her medic’s case and headed out the door.
Alex grinned. “Well, sugar, guess it’s just you and me.”
Carmen was furious with herself for blushing.
Chapter Eleven
Jacob gasped and opened his eyes. He recognized his surroundings. The filigree of the patterned ceiling. The ornate light fixture. He was in same room where he’d watched Pablo feed for the first time.
He was lying on the antique chaise lounge. He sat up and felt his chest. No bullet hole. He took a deep breath. No shortness, no ache, no constant urge to cough. He stretched and yawned like a man waking from a deep, restful sleep.
“You’re awake.” The Don sat across from him. He didn’t move.
“I’m alive,” Jacob responded, feeling his chest. “Sort of.”
“More than alive.” The Don crossed one leg over the other. “Your mission to capture the vampire hunter went…poorly.”
The memories of the night before began to return to Jacob. He cringed. “You might say that.”
“Sandoval was too badly damaged, too long dead. I couldn’t turn him.”
Jacob let out a long breath. “I’m not going to make excuses. Everything went to shit. I take full responsibility.”
“Bueno. I detest sniveling.”
“You don’t like me very much, do you?” Jacob said, sitting up.
Don Carlos thought for a moment. “No. You’re of an impure race. You’re loud, brash, uncultured. You have no concept of history.”
“Then why keep me around? Why turn me?”
“Because you have the one quality I respect above all: you’re useful to me.” He narrowed his eyes at Jacob. “The question is…will you continue to be useful?”
&n
bsp; Running his tongue over his new fangs, Jacob answered, “More so than ever.”
The Don’s lips moved in what might have been a smile. “You must be hungry. Do you understand the rules of feeding? The risks involved?”
Jacob nodded. “I’ve picked up on the basics.”
“Good. One of the girls will be made available to you.” The Don snapped his fingers, and a moment later, Luisa appeared in the doorway. She wordlessly looked from the Don, to Jacob, and back to the Don. “Do you have a preference? Pick a girl, and Luisa will fetch her.”
Jacob studied Luisa for a moment. Her face was a blank slate, revealing nothing. Finally he smiled and winked at her. He said, “How about Luisa? Could I take her?”
The Don laughed softly. “No. Luisa is also useful to me.”
“Okay then, Luisa, just go ahead and pick one out for me.”
“Sí, señor.” The woman disappeared from the doorway.
Jacob noticed he was wearing different clothes. A badly fitting shirt and slacks. The former contents of his pockets were laid out on a nearby table. A pack of Marlboro Reds, a Zippo lighter, truck keys, pocket knife, cell phone. He picked them up, one by one, and put them in his pockets.
Luisa returned, dragging a girl in a blue dress behind her. She was shorter than Luisa by a full head, and had her short hair tucked behind her ears. The girl struggled absently, as if she knew it was a foregone conclusion. Her breath came fast and shallow, like a cornered rabbit. Her eyes were wide with terror.
Luisa hugged the girl, ran a hand down her black hair. “Lo siento, mija.”
“Esta bien,” said the girl. “No es tu culpa.” She squeezed Luisa’s hand and let it go, then turned and faced Jacob. She didn’t look away.
Jacob had seen it done enough times. He took hold of the girl, wrenched her head back, and sank in his fangs. The blood that poured into his mouth was sweeter than candy, a headier rush than wine. It was the perfect drug, spilling out of the girl and down his throat. He closed his eyes and moaned, still drinking, unaware of the girl’s slim arms battering against him. She moaned too, high and hopeless. Finally she went limp and began the trembling that he’d seen so many times before. The flow of blood tapered off, then stopped as her heart stopped pumping. It was all over in less than a minute.