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Vampire

Page 2

by Richie Tankersley Cusick


  “I guess she would,” Jake said offhandedly, “if her throat was cut.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant.” Kyle brought one hand slowly to his own neck, frowning. “Here—right over her jugular vein—there were these marks. I mean, they didn’t break the skin or anything—it was like someone painted them on.”

  “Like his signature.” Jake shrugged. “The murderer signing his name.”

  “Like bite marks,” Kyle said solemnly. “You know. Like … a vampire.”

  2

  You’re not what I expected,” Liz said, studying Darcy with a cool stare.

  Darcy moved her hands away from her ears, trying to hear through all the noise. The Club was packed, thick with smoke and dancing couples, laughter, shouting, and blaring music. From their corner booth she had a clear view of the stage where the band was finishing up its set, and as Liz spoke again, Darcy leaned closer, forcing a smile.

  “What did you expect?”

  “Someone more sophisticated, I guess. Not like a little kid who needs a babysitter for the summer. You are seventeen, aren’t you?” Her lips moved in a mean smile. “But we hardly look the same age, you and I. In fact, Jake seems much older than you. I guess because he’s so mature.”

  “Is he?” Darcy remembered Jake’s jersey and sneakers and all the stories her mother had told her through the years. “We’re only six years apart. My mother was already twelve when Jake was born.”

  “He never talks about you,” Liz said, as if she and Jake had had many conversations. “He never even mentions you.”

  “I don’t guess he’d have any reason to. He and my mom aren’t exactly close.”

  “So she dumped you.” Behind her glasses, Liz’s eyes looked triumphant.

  Darcy met the stare and held it. “Yes. She dumped me. It’s not the first time, and it probably won’t be the last. As a matter of fact, I’m a professional dumpee.”

  A flicker of surprise cut across Liz’s face. She reached for her glass, twirling her straw slowly. After a moment her eyes lifted again to Darcy’s.

  “So what do you think about him?”

  “Jake?” Darcy hedged. “He’s … not quite what I expected.”

  “He’s wonderful.” Liz’s chin lifted. “And we’re very close.”

  “How nice for you.” Darcy forced pleasantness into her tone. “How do you know each other?”

  “Kyle knew Jake first—Kyle was coming in here all the time to listen to music. And then Jake hired this band Kyle’s in. I don’t know how much longer that band’s going to stay together. Personality problems in the group. Kyle’s such an optimist, but you can bet he’ll be the first one replaced—the lead singer wants all his buddies in the group, even though none of them are any good.” She looked exasperated. “Anyway, Kyle and Jake got to be good friends, and that’s how I got my job at the Dungeon. I kind of run the place. Jake spends so much time here at the Club, he doesn’t really have time for that stupid horror show of his.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know that.” Darcy’s eyes went to the stage, where the guys were laying down their instruments, preparing to go on break. “I love this music. Kyle’s a really great drummer.”

  “One of the best around.” Liz actually smiled. “He has great hands.”

  “Is he your boyfriend?”

  “Boyfriend?” Liz echoed, then gave a harsh laugh. “He’s my brother. Couldn’t you tell?”

  Darcy shook her head, flustered. “You don’t look anything alike.”

  “You’re right. He’s the cute one.” A smile hardened at the corners of her mouth. “But I’ve got the brains.” For a long moment she stared at the stage, her hands twirling the glass around and around on the tabletop between them.

  “That’s so horrible about that murder.” It was the first thing that popped into Darcy’s mind, and she wished instantly that she’d thought of something else to break the awkward silence.

  “Yes.” Liz was looking at her again, her expression thoughtful. “Vampires. What a horrible way to die.”

  “But they’re not real.” Darcy started to laugh, then felt it stick in her throat as Liz glared at her. “I mean, you don’t really believe—”

  “I believe in everything,” Liz said shortly. “Look, here comes the rest of the gang. Move over.”

  Darcy saw Kyle making his way toward their table, with two more boys following him. Liz bent her head and spoke quickly.

  “The guy with the ponytail—that’s Brandon. He belongs to me.” The look she gave Darcy held a silent warning. “He and Kyle are best friends. The one trailing behind is Elliott.”

  “Why is he wearing sunglasses in here?”

  “He always wears them.” Liz nudged her over even farther. “He had a motorcycle wreck last month. He’s not all there, so don’t be surprised at anything he does. I don’t know why Kyle even bothers with him, he’s so weird.”

  Mildly alarmed, Darcy scooted closer to Liz, making more room in the booth. As the three boys came up to the table, Brandon struck a dramatic pose and grinned down at them with a heart-melting smile.

  “Congratulate me, ladies. I got the part.”

  “You did?” Liz’s voice rose above the noise. “Oh, Brandon, I knew you would!” As Liz reached out for him, Darcy couldn’t help noticing the change that came over her. Liz’s coldness had totally disappeared, and the beaming smile she gave Brandon transformed her whole face until it was almost pretty. As Brandon continued to smile down at them, Darcy tried to study him without being obvious—coal-black hair pulled back in a queue, black eyes fringed with thick lashes. He could almost be sinister, Darcy thought, with his broad shoulders and dark good looks. And as she stared at him, she suddenly realized he was staring back, and she hurriedly dropped her eyes.

  “Sit down,” Liz ordered him. “I want to hear all the details.”

  “There’s really not much to tell.” Brandon slid easily in beside her. “I just read some lines and stuff. But I think it was my swooping that did it.”

  Kyle sat down beside Darcy, laughing. “Didn’t you have to bite anyone?”

  “Maybe that comes in rehearsals.” Brandon glanced at Darcy then back to Kyle. “So where were you? I thought you were going to try out—”

  “Oh, he chickened out,” Liz said irritably. “As usual.”

  Kyle looked embarrassed. “It’s not that, it’s just—”

  “Hey, man, I know you could have gotten the part—you were the only competition I was worried about.” Brandon clapped Kyle on the back, but Liz gave a derisive laugh.

  “He wouldn’t have gotten it, Brandon, quit telling him things like that.”

  “I didn’t have time.” Kyle shrugged and did a drum roll on the table with his hands. “Anyway, I’d rather be your manager—it’s a lot less work.”

  “He’s just too shy.” Brandon gave him a teasing hug. “He couldn’t handle all those girls swooning all over him—”

  “Come on, cut it out.” Kyle squirmed out of his grasp, embarrassed, and patted the seat. “Sit down, Elliott, and get me out of this.”

  “No,” Elliott murmured.

  “You’re going to be so great.” Liz snuggled up to Brandon’s side. “I can’t wait to see you in costume.”

  “Yeah, I’ll swoop even better once I have my cape.” Brandon chuckled, his eyes flicking again to Darcy. “You must be Darcy. Kyle told me you were here. I’m Brandon.” He thrust out his arm across Liz, giving Darcy’s hand a firm squeeze. “Do you even know what we’re talking about, or do you think we’re completely crazy?”

  Liz reached for her glass, bumping his arm away from Darcy. “Oops. Sorry.”

  For one quick instant Brandon’s eyes shot to her face, his smile fading.

  “Hey,” Liz said as he stared at her, “it was an accident. Okay?”

  After a moment Brandon nodded. His voice was deep, soft, and slightly husky. “Sure, Liz. Okay.”

  “The Community Theatre Group is putting on their production of Dracul
a,” Kyle spoke up, breaking the tension. “And Brandon just got the lead. That’s great news, man. What a choice role.”

  Brandon nodded. “Thanks. Now, you guys better show up to give me moral support.”

  “Count on it. So when’s the first performance?”

  “How should I know? I’ll be lucky to remember the first rehearsal.” Brandon signaled the waitress and nodded to their group as she whipped out her pad. “Cokes all around? Darcy?”

  “That’s fine. Thanks.”

  Brandon smiled at her, and she felt an unexpected warmth inside.

  “You know … you’re very pretty.” His eyebrows raised appreciatively, and Darcy’s cheeks flamed.

  Kyle chuckled. “You’re embarrassing her. Can’t you behave yourself for one—”

  “Her mom dumped her,” Liz said smugly. “Just like extra baggage.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence. Darcy looked down at her fingers twisting together in her lap.

  “We really hope you have a good visit,” Kyle said hastily. “There’s a lot to do here in the summer—concerts, museums, art shows—there’s always something going on.”

  “Murder,” Elliott said.

  Everyone turned and stared. He was standing behind Brandon, and he moved one hand slowly up to his forehead.

  “It hurts,” he said quietly.

  Exchanging swift looks with Kyle, Brandon started to get up. “Maybe we should go,” he said. “It is pretty hot in here.”

  “And loud,” Kyle agreed. “I need to get home anyway. I can give him a ride. Liz, you coming?”

  Liz looked up at Brandon. “Brandon can take me home.”

  Brandon cast her a sidelong glance. “Hey, sorry, but I’ve got some stuff I’ve got to do.”

  “Come on,” Kyle said, jerking his thumb toward the door. “Unless you’d rather walk.”

  “Fine.” Liz shoved Brandon off the end of the seat, not bothering to hide her annoyance. As Brandon stood aside to let her out, she stalked past him, throwing him a chilly smile. “Don’t let stardom go to your head, Brandon. Just remember—I know what you’re really like.”

  As Brandon looked uneasily at Kyle, Darcy felt something brush her arm and jumped as Elliott leaned in over her. His thin, pale face was framed by wispy blond hair, and she could feel the intensity of his stare behind the dark walls of his glasses.

  “I’m leaving now,” he said softly.

  Darcy nodded, trying to avoid looking at his unsettling expression. “Goodbye, Elliott. It was very nice to meet you.”

  A faint smile quivered at the edges of his lips. “It was very nice to meet you,” he echoed, but his voice was flat and emotionless. “It was very nice.”

  Again a quick look passed between Kyle and Brandon.

  “Come on, Elliott.” Kyle touched him lightly on the shoulder. “I’m parked close.”

  Elliott turned obediently, following for several steps. Then without warning he spun around, his hands gripping the edge of the table as he leaned in closer to Darcy’s ear.

  “I can tell the future,” he whispered.

  As Darcy drew back in alarm, she saw Brandon gesturing to Kyle behind Elliott’s back … and Liz several feet away, her face hard, but curious.

  “Come on, Elliott,” Kyle said firmly, pulling on his friend’s arm. “Let’s just go.”

  But Elliott was bending closer, his hidden gaze traveling slowly over Darcy’s face.

  “I can tell the future,” he said again, and his voice was chillingly matter of fact.

  “Can you?” Darcy asked hesitantly.

  “Yes,” Elliott said. “I’m afraid you’re going to die.”

  3

  As Darcy stared at him, she was vaguely aware of a long, loud silence, even though the noise around her was deafening. She could see the black lenses, so close to her, and Kyle’s face somewhere off to her left, and Liz approaching silently, her arms locked over her chest. It was Brandon who broke the spell at last, who pulled Elliott away and gave a choked sort of laugh.

  “Come on, Elliott, we’re all going to die—”

  “So much for your psychic powers,” Kyle joined in, and turned on Liz. “Did you put him up to this? This sounds like something you’d do—”

  “I wouldn’t give that weirdo the time of day.” Liz was indignant.

  “The gypsy said so,” Elliott faced them solemnly. “She told me I could tell the future.”

  Liz rolled her eyes. “I thought we weren’t supposed to tell what she said. You blew it, Elliott.”

  “I didn’t blow it. That’s not all she told me. I’ve always been able to tell the future. I can’t say what else she told me.”

  “Okay, I can tell the future, too.” Kyle nodded, pulling on Elliott’s arm. “I see a car and a ride and Elliott feeling much better. See you later, guys.” He took Elliott’s elbow and guided him firmly out the door, Liz following behind.

  Brandon slid in beside Darcy and offered her an apologetic smile.

  “He’s always been … different, you know? But after he had that wreck … well …” He spread his hands, his face puzzled. “I don’t know. He’s just Elliott. He doesn’t mean anything. He just gets mixed up.”

  Darcy nodded slowly, rubbing the chill from her arms. “What was all that about a gypsy?”

  Brandon smiled again, resting back against the seat. “The five of us went to a carnival a couple weeks ago and got our fortunes told by this old gypsy. It was just for fun—the place was closing up, and it was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

  “Fortune-tellers are kind of creepy,” Darcy said. “You always wonder where they come up with all that stuff they tell you.”

  “Well, they make it up. Nobody really believes it. But then … God only knows what she told Elliott. He’s not like other people. We shouldn’t have let him go in.”

  “What happened to him? In the accident, I mean.”

  “Head injury. He’s lucky he’s still alive.”

  “You all seem so close. Have you known each other long?”

  “Since grade school. We all grew up around here … go to school together. Except Liz is a year ahead, so she’s already out. Guess the rest of us will be graduating together next year, too … at least, I hope Elliott will.…” His voice trailed off, and he frowned down at his napkin. “Look … I want to apologize for the way Liz was acting.”

  Darcy tried to shrug it off. “It’s not your fault. I just wish I knew what I’ve done to upset her so much.”

  “You haven’t done anything,” Brandon said quickly. “She’s not the easiest person to get along with. And I should know.” His laugh was humorless. “We haven’t been getting along for a while now.”

  “That’s too bad.” Darcy wished she could sound more sympathetic, but Liz’s insults were still too fresh.

  “Well”—Brandon shrugged—“I don’t like feeling smothered. But that’s not your problem. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. She must really care about you.”

  Brandon said nothing. The waitress came with their order, and he suddenly grinned over at Darcy.

  “We have a lot of Cokes to drink. Good thing I’m thirsty.” He grouped all the glasses in the middle of the table, and they each chose one. “Guess you haven’t had time to see any sights.”

  “Just the Dungeon of Horrors.”

  “Yeah, it’s cool, isn’t it? All those great exhibits. Now that it’s summer, you’ll be swamped with tourists.”

  “Really? It doesn’t look like anybody could even find it.”

  “Westonport looks different in daylight. It’s the oldest part of the whole city, and they’ve rebuilt a lot of it, tried to save all the historical stuff. There are still neighborhoods around it, though. We all live pretty close.”

  “Does Jake really live at the Dungeon?”

  “Yeah, his apartment’s upstairs. I guess he told you how he ended up with the place, huh?”

  Darcy shook her head. “My mom just told me he’s always been kind of
eccentric.”

  Brandon laughed. “Eccentric. That’s pretty good. Eccentric. I like it.” His eyes sparkled and they swept Darcy’s face. “He was really close friends with this old guy named Gus—we all knew him—he had the Dungeon for years and years—absolutely loved horror movies. Anyway, Gus dies and leaves everything to Jake—the Dungeon, the apartment, what money he had, and all his debts.” He laughed again. “Jake said it’d be more trouble than it was worth, but Gus said Jake was the only one who’d take care of the place after he was gone. And Gus was right—Jake really loves that Dungeon.”

  “So what was Jake doing before?”

  “Before Westonport? Drifting, I guess. He never talks much about his past, and some of the guys I’ve seen him with, I wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley, know what I mean? This club is the best thing that’s ever happened here—it’s a place for kids to come and have a good time without drinking or getting in trouble. Jake’s tough—but he’s fair.”

  “Is he happy?”

  Brandon thought a minute. “Yeah, I guess. Whoever knows with Jake?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s such a loner. Jake only lets you know what he wants you to know.” Brandon nodded to himself. “So what’s the situation between him and your mom?”

  “There is no situation.” Darcy gave a short laugh. “She was older when he was born, so they pretty much led separate lives. From what I hear, he was pretty unconventional, and she was pretty intolerant.”

  “So your mom’s never in touch with him?”

  “Only when she wants something. Like when Gran and Gramps died, and Mom fought the will. And when my father died, and she needed money.”

  “Wow.” Brandon’s eyes widened. “She came to Jake for money?”

  Darcy nodded, looking puzzled. “Yes, and he even gave her some. So all these years I thought Uncle Jake was very rich.”

  Brandon threw back his head and hooted with laughter, making Darcy smile.

  “Now that I’ve seen the Dungeon, I guess I had the wrong picture of him.” She laughed along.

  “You sure did.” Brandon gasped for breath. “Wow … Jake gave your mom money. Yeah … Jake’s all right. But he’s not rich.”

 

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