B005N1TFVG EBOK

by Bruce Elliot Jones

  “So why were you with her? Curled up so contentedly there below her stilettos?”

  “Nothing content about it. I was learning.”

  “Learning? Learning what? To be a vampire?”

  Mitzi stretched luxuriously, mouth wide, pink tongue curled; something kind of cute and almost human about it. “No, Sport. I didn’t need to learn that.”

  A sudden chill formed in the steaming water around me. I stole a look sideways at the handsome mutt beside me. “Are you saying…you’re a vampire?”

  “I am now.”

  Shit, I thought. “Shit,” I said, “since when?”

  “Since Alicia.”

  “She bit you?”

  “Other way around.”

  I looked down at the washcloth in my hands, a sinking feeling in my gut. “Is there really any point in my cleaning up?”

  A chuckle-snort. “I’m not going to suck your neck, Eddie Magee.”

  “No? How can I be sure of that? Exactly?”

  “Not that kind of girl. Or vampire, for that matter.”

  I added more hot water from the faucet anyway. “What does that mean?”

  When she didn’t answer I looked over at her again. Really a beautifully animal in some ways under the full glow of my stuttering fluorescent bathroom lights. “Mitzi? Are you asleep?”

  “There are all kinds of vampires, Ed. Just like there are all kinds of people.”

  “And you’re the kind that hunts other vampires.”

  “The bad ones, anyway.”

  “There are good ones?”

  “Jesus. I hope so.”

  “You don’t sound so sure. No offense.”

  “None taken. I’m new at this too. Several weeks new. I didn’t ask to swallow that woman’s blood. It was instinctual. She kicked me.”

  “But she keeps you around anyway?”

  “I can look real soulful when I want to. Like one of those Chuck Jones cartoon dogs.”

  I sat up straight in the tub, felt the water roil heavily, trickle down my back. I put my face in my hands a moment. “I’m confused. Bear with me here. So you were a dog first, right? A what, a stray…?”

  “Kind of like you, Ed.”

  “…and then you bit this Alicia character and now you’re a vampire. Dog.”

  “Part vampire.”

  “What’s the other part?”

  “Alicia. The part of Alicia that went down my throat. I sort of…inherited part of her. Her memories, her affinities, her idiosyncrasies—“

  “--her bloodlust.”

  Mitzi actually rolled her eyes; I didn’t know dogs could do that. “I told you--I’m not going to bite your neck, Ed. I many have liked the taste of human blood somewhere way back in my ancestral canine brain, but I can assure you I have nothing but abhorrence for it now.”

  I shook my head in bewilderment. “Look, I know I’m slow—“

  “You’re not so bad.”

  “—but I still don’t get it. So, you’re Alicia’s dog, is that it?”

  “Was Alicia’s dog. Your dog now, Ed.”

  I frowned. “What about Alicia? I mean, won’t she be suspicious eventually if you’re not hanging around anymore?”

  “Eventually. We’re going to have to deal with that.”

  “We?”

  “Sorry, Ed. You’re in for a pound, now.”

  “Okay. So. Deal with it how?”

  “Very carefully. You don’t want to go up against Alicia, Ed. I’m not sure even I could. She’s incredibly powerful. Old school vampire powerful.”

  I started rubbing furiously at my arm again. “And do I have a choice here? I mean, supposing just for instance I don’t wish to join the Vampire Hunters of America.”

  When I looked, Mitzi was sniffing between her legs. She looked up with what might almost have been embarrassment. “You may as well know. I’ve never been spayed.”

  I sighed. “Mitzi, how many vampires are we talking here? And what are our chances, with just the two of us? And why would I willingly commit suicide?”

  She was silent a long moment. Then: “Why does NASA work their asses off to get us to the moon? Why do pharmacologists slave away every year to come up with new flu vaccines? Why do--”

  “Okay,” I nodded, sufficiently humbled. “What about assistance? Can we get some help with this thing?”

  She gave her crotch a last lick, then settled back down. “No help. Not right away, anyway. The degree a given vampire might want to exterminate another given vampire is predicated on the degree to which they themselves are vampires.”

  “They come in degrees?”

  “This isn’t the late show, Ed, Chiller Theater, it’s not Bela Lugosi and fog machines. As I said, vampires vary as much in personality and temperament as ordinary humans. Some bad, some good, some you probably wouldn’t want to kill even if you thought maybe you should. Brain surgeons, for instance. Mother Teresa types. Dog catchers on the other hand you could probably do right away. It’ll all take some sorting out. A lot of hard work, late hours, and likely very danger. But hey, it’s your big chance to be a real private eye, Ed! Your lifetime ambition! As opposed to being a half-ass reporter.”

  “Thanks. You may as well know I don’t respond well to flattery. You still haven’t said how many.”

  “It’s a disease, Ed, it always was. It just went underground for a time—a long time--almost disappeared completely. The truth is, every human alive probably has a tiny strain of vampire in them now. You know, like how they say in the next hundred years or so there won’t be any white people or black people anymore—just coffee and cream? That isn’t the problem. It’s like HIV. The problem starts when it becomes full blown AIDS. That hasn’t happened for five hundred years or so.”

  “Until now.”

  “Until now.”

  “And it’s how far reaching? Like, all over the country?”

  Mitzi got up, stretched again, wandered over to the scales and put her front paws on it. Shook her handsome head. “Damn. Gaining weight...”

  “You look fine.”

  “Really? Thighs not getting a little chunky?”

  “No.”

  “Not too much tummy?”

  “No.”

  “Not too many nipples?”

  “Very funny. Can we get back to the subject?”

  She snorted at the scales. “I don’t have much info on Europe, but from what I can glean—and I’m new at this as I said—it’s pretty limited in North America to the States. So far. The question is, is that by design?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  She turned from the scales. “I have reason to believe the cult may be as small as a single state, maybe even one town.”

  “One town? You mean, here? Topeka, Kansas? Why?”

  “It makes sense when you think about it. If you’re a minority like a vampire, you want to thrive and grow, but not too quickly, not too noticeably, until you can get your numbers up. And not some place teeming with cosmopolitan types, intellectuals. So you start out slow, build your numbers cautiously, blend in, hide in plain sight. When you’re sufficiently strong, got one small town under control, you can start to move on to the next, and then the next.”

  “Invasion of the Body Snatchers.”

  “Good analogy. Good movie. You see it?”

  “Only the first one.”

  “Kevin McCarthy. That’s the best. The Donald Sutherland version wasn’t bad but the film lacked that black-and-white noir feeling, don’t you think?”

  “Control.”

  “What?”

  “We were discussing control.”

  “Right. As your army strengthens you expand your territory, move on to the bigger cities, Cleveland, San Diego…finally the major metropolises. Once those are gained…”

  “Yes--?”

  “…we’re all part of the living dead.”

  I tried to keep up, head whirling. “What about the suburbs?”

  “They’re already among the dead.�
��

  I looked at her.

  “That was a joke, Ed. I’m trying to insert some levity here so I don’t lose you.”

  “Well. I admire your composure under the circumstances.”

  “Suburbs are next to last.”

  “What’s last?”

  “The White House.”

  “Oh, God. President Dracula.”

  “Don’t laugh. Point is, one day you’re not a minority anymore.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Yes. We could use Him, about now. There’s never a Son of God about when you need one.”

  I thought about it a moment, feeling all creepy and spidery inside. “But for now you’re sure it’s just a local problem, right?”

  She hesitated. “I’ve gotten word there may be a sect forming somewhere in Oregon. I can’t confirm that.”

  “Why Oregon? Oh. Right. The rain. Dark skies.”

  “Vampires love dark skies. Some can apparently even move around outside on cloudy days, though I haven’t quite figured that one out yet. I’ve got thick luxurious fur so I don’t have to worry,” she said smugly. She nodded at me. “I wouldn’t rub too hard at that arm, by the way. You’ll force their blood through your pores.”

  I froze with the washcloth.

  Mitzi put a paw up on the lip of the tub, cocked her head, accessing my arm. “It’ll disappear in a few hours anyway. No real need to clean that mess in the living room.”

  “It will disappear? How can it do that?”

  “Because it isn’t real blood, Ed. It’s dead. Fades pretty fast. Can I get in there before all the hot water’s gone?”

  I looked down at the tub. “You just said you didn’t need to clean it off.”

  “I haven’t had a bath in months, Ed. I could use a tidy-up.”

  I pulled up my knees. “I could make room for you…”

  She stared at me. “You do realize I’m a girl dog, right? With a human woman’s mind? I mean, you comprehend that part, right?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  Mitzi blinked at me. Finally snorted and trotted to the bathroom door.

  “Not on the first date, Ed.”

  FIVE

  I awoke that night a 2:17 a.m. feeling like I was smothering.

  The reason I knew it was 2:17 was the radium dial on my nightstand clock radio. The reason I felt I was smothering was that something was sitting on top of my chest.

  I’m not all that much of a sleeper but let’s face it, it had been a long day, very long, me pretty wrecked from all the fun of getting fired, meeting a talking dog and wasting a vampire in my cellar within the same twelve hours. So it took a moment to wake up fully, and realize all that craziness wasn’t waking from a dream. The dream had been rather pleasant, something about an old girlfriend and me walking on a beach together. It was reality that was nuts.

  The more I swam up from sleep, the more I felt smothered. A few seconds later I was certain someone was sitting on my chest, doing the smothering. Then I made out two blazing red eyes in the darkness staring down at me and had an immediate and very bad feeling I knew who they belonged to. Somebody who wasn’t in the cellar any more.

  Strange because I was pretty damn sure I’d done a thorough job down there with my makeshift stake and hammer. Sure, I was new at this kind of thing but I’d seen my share of classic Universal and Hammer films, I knew what went where and how. And the talking dog had certainly seemed satisfied with my work.

  Making it all the more disconcerting when I realized it was the dog herself sitting astride my chest creating that smothering feeling, those two blazing eyes belonged to her, fixed now unwavering on the pulsing area below my chin, a low growl in her throat when I attempted to shift my weight just the tiniest bit.

  I wanted to say something but my larynx seemed to have closed up on me.

  I couldn’t bear looking into those fixed hot coals anymore so I shut my eyes, remembering that dogs can interpret eye-contact as a form of threat.

  It wasn’t any better in the dark: the dog’s weight was still heavy on my chest and I could feel that awful stare even if I couldn’t see it. There was only one thing to do-- and it was either going to get me out of this or have my throat torn open for me.

  I swallowed hard and found my voice.

  “Doggy? Is that you?”

  Stupid, I suppose. Of course it was her, I just couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  The dog remained silent.

  Maybe she was dreaming? Walking in her sleep? As opposed to curled at the foot of my bed like a good dog. She’d done that earlier, I recalled now, after she’d had her bath, we’d talked a bit and I’d turned off the light. I even thought I remembered hearing her snoring softly. Kind of cute. Kind of nice to have a doggy there, protecting you in the wee, vulnerable hours of the morning. Comforting.

  I was really having trouble breathing now. She had to get off.

  And then she did. The weight lifted and I felt the bed give beside me and the pressure of her curling up at my ankles again.

  “Sorry about that.”

  I drew in shaky relief. “Doggy? Are you…all right?”

  “Yeah. Fine. Go back to sleep. Nothing to worry about.”

  I cleared my throat nervously. “Peeing myself in the middle of the night is nothing to worry about?”

  “You didn’t pee yourself, I’d smell it, and I said I was sorry, are you going to press this, Ed, make me feel bad?” She certainly sounded like her old self.

  Keeping my mouth shut would have probably been the smart thing. Of course, not wanting to grow up to be a private eye would have been the smart thing, too. “Yes, I am going to press it, if you don’t mind. What the hell were you doing just now?”

  She was quiet for a moment. Then: “And I prefer you referred to me by my name—‘Mitzi’--not as ‘doggy.’ It’s degrading.”

  I grunted. “Yeah, well I’d prefer you didn’t read my mind, but I guess we can’t have everything, right?”

  “If you’re going to get testy I’m leaving…” The bed gave again and I heard the thump of her hitting the floor.

  “If I’m going to be testy!”

  I could hear her trot to the bedroom door. “Hey, it was your idea we sleep in the same room! For ‘mutual protection’, you said!”

  “The same room, not the same bed!”

  “Well…there’s only one bed! Am I supposed to sleep on the floor?”

  “You know, some dogs sleep out in the garage!”

  “The name is Mitzi! M-I-T-Z-I! Not ‘dog.’ And fine! You want me in the garage, I’ll go sleep out in the garage! With the rats!”

  “I don’t have rats!”

  But she was gone; I could hear her padding away indignantly down the hallway.

  Then the house was still for a time, except for my heavy sigh.

  After a while I heard her pad back up the hall to the foot of the bed. “I’m having trouble with the door…”

  “Mitzi, will you please knock it off. I don’t want you sleeping in the garage. I just don’t want you, you know, sitting on my chest like…like…”

  “A vampire?”

  “…the Hound of the Baskervilles.”

  “I apologized for that.”

  “With those two charcoal briquettes you call eyes.”

  “I ap-POL-O-gized!”

  “Licking your chops.”

  “Not one time did I lick my chops, Ed Magee!”

  I sat forward, flung up the blanket. “See this!” I shook the sheet. “This is dog drool!”

  And suddenly she was barking, very loudly, and leaping up on the bed again and starting to get right in my face, just the smallest hint of pink behind the liquid eyes. Then the pink shifted to luxurious brown again and she scooted back with a heart-tugging kind of whimper.

  “Oh, shit! I’m sorry! Shit! Eddie? Are you okay? Are you mad? Don’t be afraid of me, please! I’ll go away now, okay? Sleep in the garage. No, wait, the door. I’ll, uh… I’ll sleep inside beside the door. T
hat okay? Ed? You all right?”

  “I’m fine, Mitzi, fine. The question is, are you?”

  She lingered hesitantly at the baseboard, turning in little circles. “Yes! No! I don’t know! Maybe…”

  “Maybe?”

  I could feel her trembling through the bed. “I thought I could control the infection with just…my mind. Keep the carnal impulses at bay. Maybe I was wrong, maybe I’m more one of them than I thought! I don’t want to hurt you, Eddie! I love you!”

  I blinked. “You love me?”

  “Well. You know. The way a dog loves its master. Not that I think of you as my master exactly, I’m nobody’s slave—oh, you know what I mean.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded wistfully in the dark. “Nice to hear, though. Been a while since anyone said they loved me.”

  She turned one more circle then stood quietly, still shivering. “I wish…”

  “What?”

  “…you could hold me.”

  I looked about the dark room, shrugged. “Well…oh, hell. Fine. I can hold you, if you like.”

  She shook her head, shaking the mattress a little. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea. Not sure this whole…arrangement is a good idea anymore.”

  I never felt more at sea. I gestured meaninglessly at the air. “Well…maybe we should take you to a doctor or something.”

  “A vet?”

  “No, a real doctor. I mean, a human doctor.”

  She made a settling motion and I imagined her lying there miserably, head between her paws. “They wouldn’t know what to look for, Ed. And if they did know, they’d be one of them.”

  I nodded. Hadn’t thought of that. “Yeah…”

  It was quiet for a time.

  “Ed? What are you thinking about?”

  “I was wondering if you can go outside in the daylight?”

  “Yes.”

  “In the sun, I mean?”

  “My fur protects me.”

  I shrugged. “Then I’m not worried about it. And neither should you be.”

  “Really?” Hopeful. “You think?”

  “I do.” I laid back, turned on my side and pulled the blanket to my chin, ignoring the damp area. “Now why don’t we get some sleep? You said we had a lot of work to do tomorrow.”