Vampire

by Richie Tankersley Cusick

  “We don’t open till noon today.” Jake passed some coffee to Darcy, who shook her head. “What’s the matter with you? You look terrible.”

  “I didn’t sleep very well.” Darcy avoided his eyes and turned her cup slowly on the table. She felt Jake’s stare upon her, then felt it shift away.

  “Bats?” he asked casually.

  She shrugged and took a swallow she really didn’t want. “I dreamed someone was in my room.” She glanced at his face, but his expression didn’t change. “Why aren’t you ever home?”

  Her question seemed to catch him off-guard. He took a long time washing his hands at the sink … drying them on a towel.

  “I have a club to run.”

  “And that takes all your time?”

  He shrugged. “Most of it, yeah.”

  “But it closes, doesn’t it? And you’re never home—” She broke off abruptly, sensing that she’d pushed too far. He put his cup into the sink. A muscle clenched in his jaw.

  “Don’t nag me, Darcy, I told you I hate that.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” she mumbled.

  “You sound just like … you know … and just like Liz—” He stopped, shaking his head, and turned on the hot water.

  “Liz said you and she are very close.”

  “Yeah, she’d like that, wouldn’t she?”

  “Would she?” Darcy went on innocently. “Have you two gone out or something?”

  “Once. When she was trying to get back at Brandon … only I didn’t know it at the time.” He scowled, as if angry for having revealed that much of himself. “I really hate girls like that,” he added coldly.

  “But you didn’t know,” Darcy said gently. “Did … did that hurt you? When you found out?”

  “I hate it,” Jake went on, as if he hadn’t even heard her. “Girls like that just take and take and nothing’s ever enough. They get their kicks from trying to manipulate guys … from humiliating them.” He stared long and hard out the window. “Your mom’s always been like that, too. It’s a real power kind of thing.” He glanced over with a wry smile. “But then I guess she doesn’t have much good to say about me, either.”

  Darcy avoided his eyes. “She says you’re crazy. And irresponsible.”

  “Yeah, that’s right.” Jake snorted. “You just never know what I might do. Which doesn’t say much for how she feels about you, if she’s willing to leave you with me.”

  Darcy stared at her coffee, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. Beside her chair Jake stopped and looked down.

  “Stay away from me, Darcy. Understand? Just don’t get around me at all.”

  He pressed his lips together and turned away. Darcy waited for him to say more, but he only picked up a dishrag and began wiping furiously at the counter.

  “You really do hate women, don’t you?” she whispered.

  “So what business is it of yours anyway?” he said quietly. He flung down the rag and started for the door, feeling in his pockets for his keys. His other hand froze on the doorknob, and his eyes flashed in her direction as a strange stiff smile slid across his lips.

  “I don’t like questions, Darcy. Sometimes it’s better not to know things.”

  Darcy stayed in her seat a long time after he’d gone, a low, steady panic building in the back of her mind. I can’t think about this … it’s too crazy … too horrible.… I won’t think about this—She hurried upstairs, trying to escape her dark, ugly suspicions, but they followed her, demanding to be acknowledged. Too many things, Jake … too many strange, frightening things I don’t understand.…

  Darcy picked up her pillow and flung it against the wall, threw herself across her bed, her fists pressed to her temples, forcing all the bad thoughts away—and it was Jake in my room last night when Brandon and Kyle showed up, Jake leaning over me, his face so close to my neck.… She closed her eyes and lay still, and then she opened them again and slowly turned her head.

  There was a piece of paper lying where her pillow had been.

  Startled, she reached out and began to read it.

  “Darcy,” she began, and even before she was finished, her hand began to shake.…

  It was a short message. And quite clear.

  It was written in blood-red lipstick.

  YOU ARE MY CHOSEN ONE

  18

  I’m not going to get upset over this. Someone’s just trying to scare me.

  “Yes, we do private parties,” Darcy said mechanically, handing the customer a brochure. “Have a good time.” It’d be so easy to get in.… Liz worked here … Elliott has a key … Jake hides an extra one outside … that basement window … “No, ma’am, not too scary. No, they don’t move or anything, they just stand there.” There’s no telling how long that note’s been in my room—just because I happened to find it today. “No, sir, we’re not a restaurant, we’re more like a horror museum. Sorry.”

  Gratefully Darcy watched another group disappear into the Dungeon, emptying the lobby. She leaned wearily onto the counter, cradling her head on her arms. She wished she could talk to someone, but the only one here was Elliott. She had no idea where Kyle and Brandon were, but after Liz’s little performance last night, she didn’t dare call Brandon’s house and leave a message. Maybe he’s at rehearsals.… She looked longingly at the door. There was no way she could leave right now, and she wasn’t even sure there were rehearsals on Sunday. Chosen one … what does that mean?

  “Darcy?”

  She jumped as a hand touched her arm, and she found herself looking back at her own face in Elliott’s dark glasses. The miniature Darcy looked pale and frightened, and the real one stepped back.

  “What do you want, Elliott?” She stared at his glasses and resisted an urge to run upstairs and lock the door.

  Elliott’s head bowed slightly. A shadow seemed to pass beneath the lenses. “You always stare at me. Like you think I can’t see you.”

  “I …” Darcy’s hand crept to the pocket of her jeans, where she’d thrust the note. “I don’t mean to stare.”

  Lifting one hand, Elliott slowly drew off his glasses, his pale gray eyes blinking calmly as she took another step back. “Here. I’ll take them off.”

  “No—I mean, you don’t have to—”

  “It makes some people nervous,” he said softly. “When they look in my eyes. It makes some people scared.”

  To Darcy’s relief the phone rang, and she hurried behind the counter to answer it. “Dungeon of Horrors—may I help you?” Then putting one hand across the mouthpiece, she nodded at Elliott. “Don’t you think you should be watching those people going through?”

  Elliott hesitated, as though her words were sinking in, then he slipped his glasses back on and slunk out of sight through the beaded curtain. Letting out a deep breath, Darcy went back to her phone call. She was surprised at the deep imprint in her hand when she hung up the receiver. She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been holding it—as if it were her only link with the outside world.

  People began filing out, clustering around the counter for souvenirs. Darcy threw herself into hostessing, not wanting to think about the note anymore, but the message had burned itself into her brain. “Yes, I have lots more postcards of the Dracula exhibit.…” You are my chosen one. “Yes, sir, the guillotine is real—and sharp.…” Jake was in my room last night … bending over me … watching me sleep.… “I’m not sure about the Space Cannibal—I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that movie.”

  Darcy’s head came up slowly and the room receded around her in a blur. All the events of the past few days began spinning furiously through her mind—doubts … fears … all forming a terrible pattern … a dark, frightening revelation.…

  “Miss? Miss, are you all right?”

  Darcy came back in slow motion. “Yes … yes, I’m fine.…”

  You are my chosen one.

  Chosen for what? Death at the hands of a deranged killer? The Vampire’s next victim? Then … does he know me?
/>   Do I know him?

  She was never so glad to see the place clear out. Turning the Closed sign out, she started toward the office when she heard someone tap on the door. Impatiently she inched it open, speaking near the crack. “Sorry, we open again at ten tomorrow.”

  “Come on, it’s just us.” A voice laughed, and Darcy threw the door open, flinging herself first into Brandon’s arms and then Kyle’s, while the boys regarded her in dismay.

  “Oh, God, I’m so glad to see you!” She pulled them inside and latched the door behind them. “I really need to talk to you.”

  “What’s up?” Brandon’s smile faded, and he caught Darcy’s shoulders in a steadying grip as Kyle looked on worriedly. “Hey … easy … was there trouble here or something? Where’s Elliott?”

  “No. I don’t know.” She shook her head in frustration. “I mean, no, there wasn’t trouble here, but something happened, and I don’t know where Elliott is, I guess he left—”

  “Whoa—” Brandon was pushing her gently down into a chair. “Are you hurt or something?”

  “I’ll call Jake,” Kyle began, but Darcy put a restraining hand on his arm.

  “No.” Again she shook her head, wringing her hands together. “There’s just so much I have to tell you.”

  “It’s okay, we’ve got time.” Brandon sat in the chair facing her and put one hand on her knee. “Darcy, come on now, what is it?”

  “I can’t believe I’m even saying this”—she fought back tears—“and I don’t want to say it—I don’t even want to think it—” She looked at him helplessly, one tear slipping down her cheek. Kyle hovered at Brandon’s shoulder, looking distressed. Brandon’s face softened, and his hand caressed Darcy’s cheek.

  “You can tell us,” he encouraged.

  “No, I can’t. You’ll think I’m horrible.”

  “You can,” he coaxed again and brought his face close to hers, his expression worried and sad. “Darcy, what’s going on?”

  “Oh, Brandon,” she whispered. “It’s … about Jake.”

  “Jake?” Brandon and Kyle exchanged glances. “What about Jake?”

  “I’m afraid he’s a … I mean … do you think he could be a murderer?”

  The word came out at last, and she stared down at her hands, feeling heavy and sick. The sudden quiet was like the sea rushing through her head. In the doorway the red beads rustled softly as if someone were standing behind them, listening.

  “Jake?” After an endless moment Brandon’s voice sounded shocked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Jake? A murderer? What are you talking about—”

  “The Vampire,” Darcy said miserably. She looked at Kyle for support, but he seemed as stunned as Brandon. “All those girls with their throats cut—I saw the bloody towel—I saw the lipstick—and he followed me at the market—”

  Brandon was looking more dazed by the minute. “Towel … lipstick.”

  “And he acted so nervous at the market—you can’t tell me you didn’t notice that—he kept looking around, like he wanted to leave. You remember, he really didn’t even want to go with us—and then that girl was dead—”

  “What happened?” Brandon was staring at her like she was crazy. “Did something happen today to set you off on this? Where’s Jake now? Is he here?”

  “I don’t know where he is, that’s just the point! Jake’s so weird and Elliott’s so creepy and—” She was fumbling in her pocket and now she waved the note under his nose. “Here. Read this.”

  Brandon took the note carefully, as if Darcy’s odd behavior might be contagious. Another look passed between him and Kyle. “What is it?”

  “Brandon—please—just read it, okay?” She watched his face as he mouthed each word silently to himself. “Doesn’t it all make sense? He told me not to go in his closet—he caught me in there, and he told me not to do it again—”

  “God, Darcy, maybe the guy just wants his privacy. Why were you snooping in his closet anyway?”

  “That night we were looking for towels—and it was your idea to snoop, not mine!”

  “I never said snoop, I only said to—”

  “That’s when I found the lipstick … it fell out of some clothes or something.”

  “And that makes him a murderer?” For the first time Brandon sounded like he was trying not to laugh. Kyle turned away so she couldn’t see his face. “Maybe he just had a date, and she asked him to hold it for her!”

  “I found a towel in there, too. Full of blood-stains. And someone sneaked in with him one night. Jake was bleeding, and the next day his hand was all bandaged. And whoever was talking in his room sounded really scared.”

  “And where were you while all this was going on?”

  “I … listened from the living room.” She looked at the floor, feeling two pairs of eyes settle on her. “But I can show you the towel.” She brightened. “It’s right upstairs!”

  Brandon looked reluctant. Darcy jumped up and grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the stairs. Kyle shrugged and started after them.

  “Come on, Darcy,” Brandon protested, “do you really think we should be doing this?”

  “I know you don’t believe me, so I’ll prove it to you.”

  As the boys stood uneasily in Jake’s bedroom doorway, Darcy rummaged through the junk in the closet.

  “What if he comes back?” Brandon tried to reason with her. “Jake’s always been real good to us, Darcy, we don’t want to—”

  “It’s gone,” Darcy mumbled.

  “What? Are you sure?”

  “It was right here on the floor, and now it’s not. Why would he move just that towel if he didn’t have something to hide?”

  “Look a little more. Maybe you’ll find the knife he used on all his victims.”

  “Scalpel,” Kyle corrected him. “They’re pretty sure it was a scalpel.”

  “That’s it!” Brandon said excitedly, turning to Kyle. “All this time we wondered where Jake was—he’s been going to medical school to be a doctor!”

  Kyle ducked his head, trying not to laugh, and Darcy glared at them.

  “Don’t make fun of me. Don’t you understand what might be happening here?”

  “I understand that you’re freaking out.” Brandon held out his arms and motioned her over. “Come here. Has it ever occurred to you that you’re reacting just the way Liz wanted you to?”

  “Liz?” Darcy looked surprised. “What does Liz have to do with this?”

  “Probably everything. I told you when Liz hates someone, she means business. She probably planted that note just to give you a nervous breakdown. I wouldn’t want to give her the satisfaction of telling her it worked.”

  Darcy stood stiffly, eyes narrowed. “You think—Liz—”

  “She worked here, I know she had a key. She could have gotten in anytime she wanted.” He regarded her for several seconds, then gave an exaggerated shudder. “Boy, you really had it all figured out there for a minute, didn’t you? Poor old Jake—”

  “He talks to all those monsters down there,” Darcy said stubbornly. “I know he thinks they’re real—especially Dracula. Doesn’t that suggest anything to you guys?” She looked pleading, and Kyle finally nodded.

  “Well, yeah, I know it seems kind of funny, but—”

  “Look,” said Brandon, “all I know is Jake’s a real private person, and I like him a lot. If he wants to talk to mannequins, that doesn’t make him a murderer.”

  Brandon abruptly turned and went back downstairs, Darcy and Kyle trailing behind. At the lobby door she threw out her last suspicion.

  “And there’s Elliott,” she said adamantly. “I think maybe he’s part of it, too.”

  Brandon turned and looked down at her, his face screwing up in reproach. “Oh, no, not Elliott-in-the-crowd again.” He started to reach for her, but Darcy stepped away.

  “I’m sorry I even said anything. I thought you’d at least listen.”

  “I did listen. And I have to give you credit,�
� he said admiringly. “I mean, you figured this whole thing out all by yourself—”

  “Forget it. Just forget it.”

  “Look, Darcy—” Kyle began.

  “I thought you were my friends.”

  “We are,” Brandon said, but Darcy took another step back.

  “Just leave, okay? I don’t need this right now—”

  “Oh, come on, Darcy, you’re getting all upset over nothing! You’re doing just what Liz wants you to do!” Brandon spun around, throwing up his hands in frustration. “Living with a vampire under your own roof.…”

  “Well”—Kyle glanced away, as if reluctant to say what he was going to say—“I mean … I can kind of see why you’d jump to conclusions.” Brandon shot him a patronizing look, and Kyle stammered, “Well … like those bats … Jake didn’t even seem surprised about them. And he was jumpy at the market. I noticed it, too.”

  “And has it ever occurred to either of you that those bats could have been a warning of some kind? A clue to the Vampire’s identity? And there’s a door on the fire escape that I’m pretty sure opens into Jake’s closet.”

  There was silence as the three of them looked at one another. Brandon scraped his foot along the floor, almost belligerently.

  “So what about Elliott, huh? You’re always seeing Elliott everywhere you go—where does he fit into all this?”

  “Come on, Brandon, let’s just drop it,” Kyle began, but Brandon brushed him off.

  “No, man, I’m really interested. I want to know who she suspects and why. I want to know how she’s solved this whole weird mystery.”

  Darcy’s tone was defensive. “Well, how should I know? Maybe he’s the one who picks out the victims and—”

  “They’re never together,” Brandon cut in. “Have you ever seen Jake and Elliott hanging out together?”

  “Yes—the night you and Liz had that fight, they both showed up at the same—”

  “Oh, come on, Darcy, that’s only ’cause I called Jake and needed someone to drive my car!”

  Brandon’s face went pensive, then unexpectedly he chuckled. “Elliott an accomplice. That’s really good. This is the guy who believed that the reason he didn’t die in his accident was because he was destined to be some sort of savior.”