I grasped Wendy's hand. "Let's go. The change in venue might refresh our conversation."
Bob waited under the awning. His aura burned bright orange and flashed in rhythm to the agitated beat of his pulse. As soon as he saw us, he started down the stairs and across the sidewalk. "Felix, let's take your car. I'm too upset to drive."
"Where are we going?"
Bob held up his cell phone. "Ziggy's chalices called. He's been murdered."
Chapter 15
I SPED NORTH ON Colorado Boulevard in my Dodge Polara. The wind drummed across the convertible top. Wendy sat beside me while Bob gave directions from the backseat. Considering it was a Tuesday night, I didn't have much problem running red lights and weaving through traffic.
Bob and I wore sunglasses, with just enough tint to hide our eyes while still allowing the use of vampire night vision. Around us, human auras glowed in their cars and on the sidewalks.
"What did the chalices tell you?" I asked.
"Those idiots didn't say much. Mainly blubbered about how scared they were going into Ziggy's house, and then they found him dead." Bob craned his neck to read the street signs. "We're getting close."
"Could it be vânätori de vampir?" Wendy asked.
Bob rubbed a meaty hand across his face. "Don't know yet. I'd hate to be right about that. Ziggy liked skimming the margins of human society, so he could've been murdered by a hoodlum or a speed freak."
Wendy looked back at Bob. "Or another vampire?"
"Yes, that's a possibility," Bob replied. "Ziggy had lots of enemies, both human and undead."
Wendy shifted her head to check out the passenger's-side mirror. "We've got company."
Headlights closed rapidly on my rear bumper. I tensed my grip on the steering wheel and readied my foot to stomp on the accelerator. Who followed? Humans? Vampires? Auras being psychic energy, they didn't reflect through mirrors. A glance over my shoulder revealed three orange auras inside the car. With the recent mention of Ziggy's many enemies, the unannounced arrival of vampires alarmed me.
Bob twisted around to look out the back window when his cell phone chirped. Ironically enough, the chime was a funeral dirge. He answered the call, speaking quickly, then snapped his cell phone closed. "It's my friend Andre and his pals. They'll be going the back way to Ziggy's house."
I turned east into an older, fashionable neighborhood. Ranch-style houses of brick and stone stood behind manicured lawns and neatly arranged shrubs. The car behind us careened up the next street.
Wendy rolled her window down. The night chill blasted into the car. She wrinkled her nose. "Phew. All I smell is arsenic trioxide and sodium nitrate. Americans don't garden, they wage chemical warfare on their plants."
Zipping up her jacket, she tipped her head out the window and made a faint hooting sound.
Bob pulled off his sunglasses. I took his cue and removed mine. The fuzzy auras of cats and small rodents slinking beneath the hedges sharpened. I spied two bright-red auras clumped together behind a thick bush along the wall of a house. A pair of very excited humans. Ziggy's killers waiting in ambush?
"On the left," I said. "Two humans."
Bob scrambled to his left window. He chuckled. "Relax. It's a couple of kids fooling around. One of them's getting a blow job."
"Homework for a sex ed class?" I asked.
"Hope she gets an A," Wendy added.
"They're both boys," Bob replied. "I doubt they'll ask for extra credit."
Something darted in front of the windshield. I tapped the brakes. The flying streak vanished as rapidly as it had appeared. "What the hell was that?"
"What was what?" Bob gripped the top of my seat and searched past my shoulder.
"I don't know." I rubbed my eyes. Maybe I was hallucinating.
Wendy rolled her window back up. "It's safe. No one's waiting for us."
"How do you know?"
"A little bird just told me."
Bob pointed to a house at the right where a cottonwood tree grew in the center of the lawn. The curtains were drawn across an illuminated picture window. A small, battered sedan sat beside the curb. "That's the chalices' car. Pull up behind it."
I parked my Dodge close to the rear bumper of the little Toyota. Stickers of rock bands and slogans were plastered across the trunk lid and rear window: Guano Apes. Devotchka. Depression Is Anger Without Enthusiasm. A Clear Conscience Is Usually the Sign of a Bad Memory. And my favorite: Oral Sex Won't Cause Brain Freeze.
Wendy jerked her door open and started for the house. We followed her across the lawn and past the cottonwood tree. Bob and I surveyed the area as we approached the front door.
"How come you're so sure it's clear?" I asked.
A horned owl fluttered to a tree branch above us. The owl hooted and flew off.
Wendy hooted back and remarked, "Like I said, a little bird told me."
"Got any more tricks, Dr. Dolittle?"
"Lots, but the night's young yet."
Bob strode ahead and his silhouette crossed before the picture window. He placed his hands on the wooden front door. Bob stood quiet for a moment, then declared, "I'm not detecting anything dangerous."
Nudging Bob aside, Wendy grasped the brass door handle and clicked the thumb latch. "How many times do I have to say that the coast is clear? Whoever did this is long gone."
"How would the owl know?" I asked.
"That's what the cat told the owl." Wendy pointed to the small red aura hiding underneath a car across the street. She pushed the door open, leading us into a foyer. Most of the interior lights were on. Plush carpets in beige accented the restrained furnishings of pale oak and earth-toned leather.
"I figured Ziggy to be heavy into industrial fetish," I said. "This place looks like a Marriott hotel."
"For a Kinko's manager he lived well," Wendy noted. "Where'd he get the money?"
"Besides satisfying his carnal appetites," Bob replied, "Ziggy polished his skills as a scam artist, hence his many enemies. Don't act surprised. Vampires aren't known for their moral scruples."
We followed a soft sobbing drifting from the back of the house.
The closer we approached the sobbing, the more my vampire senses tingled. My fangs grew. I pulled Wendy's petite frame behind me. She elbowed me in the ribs and took a place next to me.
We stepped into a sunken den. The male chalice lay curled in the fetal position. Shivering, he sobbed quietly and stared up at the woman chalice, who knelt beside a prostrate figure. Tears dripped from both chalices' reddened eyes. Wrinkled white shirts clung to their sweaty bodies.
Despite Wendy's assurances that we were safe, the hairs on my skin stood in fear. I walked forward a step to examine the body.
Ziggy's decapitated corpse lay supine, surrounded by the flakes of his dried vampire blood. What had been his sternum was a black pit marked by a ragged hole in his shirt. The gruesome stump of his neck looked like a rolled slice of bacon. His head rested against the leg of an end table, a lock of long white hair flopped over his eyes, which stared emptily up at the ceiling. His mouth gaped open, as if he'd been killed in mid-howl. Our collective gaze lifted to a darkly spattered pattern of holes punched into the wall.
I said, "Looks like someone pressed a shotgun to our friend Ziggy and gave him both barrels."
Wendy opened a pocketknife and knelt beside the body. She poked into the wound and dug out a pellet of buckshot the size of a pinkie fingernail. Polishing the pellet on her sleeve, she revealed a shiny ball. "Sterling silver. Someone's taking their vampire killing seriously."
"You've noticed? I thought the decapitation was a good clue."
Orange auras shone through the blinds covering the French doors along the back wall.
"It's Andre," Bob said.
The doorknob clicked. One door swung open. A vampire wearing a green velvet sport coat and denim jeans entered, crawling upside down like a spider across the header above the door. Bracelets on his wrists reflected the den lights. His ponyt
ail dangled to the floor. He crept across the ceiling and scowled suspiciously at us and Ziggy's corpse.
Two more vampires came through the door, walking onto the carpet in normal fashion. The woman was the petite brunette we'd seen earlier at the El Pingüino lounge. A padded-shoulder leather motorcycle jacket covered her torso, giving her a muscular, intimidating appearance. The man was older and thin. His close-cropped gray hair started from a well-defined widow's peak.
Bob welcomed him. "Andre. Sorry I couldn't tell you more over the phone. We just got here ourselves."
They made introductions among us all. Andre spoke in a heavy accent. Carmen, the vampire woman, unzipped her jacket and displayed the cleavage within her leather halter-top. Dan Sky-Pony, the vampire on the ceiling, let his cowboy boots swing down and he hung for an instant by his fingertips before dropping to the floor. He paced around the female chalice and caressed her head as he licked his lips.
Bob picked up Ziggy's head and pushed the upper lip back to reveal holes in the jaw where the incisors had been pried out. "Vânätori de vampir. This was a ritual killing, and they've taken his fangs as proof."
Andre stroked his face in a gesture I'd describe as nervous. His eyes flitted from side to side as if looking for something the rest of us hadn't seen.
"You okay, Andre?" Bob asked. "You look…"
Scared, I thought.
"I'm fine," Andre blurted. He coughed to mask a glint of embarrassment. Vampires aren't supposed to show fear.
Dan stood over the body. "I can't figure how this happened. Ziggy hasn't lived this long by being careless."
"I'm not so sure," I interrupted. "Remember how he scoffed when you first brought up the question of the vampire hunters. I think maybe he did get careless."
"Or maybe it was someone trying to make it look like vampire hunters," Wendy said.
"What do we know about these vânätori?" Carmen asked.
"Very little, unfortunately," Bob answered.
"So what do we do?" Sky-Pony asked.
Bob took Ziggy's head and cradled it under his arm like a basketball. "Learn more. Stay alert."
Carmen pointed to the corpse as if it were a heap of misplaced trash. "What about that?"
"The usual means of disposal. Solar immolation." Bob studied the layout of the den. A large bay window faced east across an open yard. "This place is perfect."
He told the chalices, "Find a tarp or a shower curtain." Bob dragged his shoe through the flaked vampire blood on the carpet. "And a vacuum cleaner."
The female chalice returned with a shower curtain, a plastic one of yellow and blue stripes. The male chalice found a Hoover upright in the closet.
We pulled Ziggy's corpse to the middle of the curtain, which we then dragged against the wall. Bob had the female chalice strip the body. He ordered the male chalice to vacuum the dried blood and clean the wall.
"We'll spackle and paint the holes later."
Carmen took Ziggy's Tag Heuer watch and wallet. Wendy bundled the clothes and shoved them into a plastic garbage bag.
Using the shower curtain, we dragged the corpse to the middle of the room and arranged the body so the feet pointed toward the bay window. Bob set the head upright by the neck.
As a final touch, Wendy bent over and adjusted the scrotum and penis. "Wouldn't want Ziggy to be uncomfortable."
Carmen and Sky-Pony shared a pack of cigarettes and lit up. She tapped her toe and exhaled a jet of smoke. "So we have to wait here till morning?"
"Patience. When morning comes, we'll divide the spoils." Bob tipped his head toward the chalices. "You'll enjoy it."
Bob and Andre rummaged in the kitchen, collecting food for an impromptu wake. Bob cooked steaks, hash browns, and corn on the cob. Like every modern vampire, Ziggy kept jars of animal blood in his refrigerator. Sky-Pony and Carmen went to the bar on the opposite side of the den. One of them found the stereo and played jazz. Carmen made drinks. Andre took a paring knife and sliced the arm of the female chalice and ordered her go to every one of us and offer blood as if she were dispensing gravy. I declined the offer.
We lounged in the den, ate dinner, and sipped drinks. Andre chuckled as he recited vampire anecdotes in his bad English, much of which Bob had to translate.
Wendy and I shared Manhattans. With the rye whiskey seeping into our bloodstreams, she and I set our plates aside on the coffee table. She kicked off her shoes and, before I could protest, climbed into my lap and rested her head on my shoulder. Wendy's body settled against mine. She didn't weigh much, a hundred pounds maybe. Her green aura softened and pulsated in tempo to the low purr coming from her throat.
Where our auras overlapped, my orange and her green took on an iridescent shine, something I'd never witnessed. Then again, I'd never had a dryad sit on my lap.
Wendy didn't ask to impose on me. She simply assumed that I wanted her close. Which I did. Problem was, I didn't want to admit my desire to her…or myself.
Wendy wove her fingers into mine and snuggled against my neck. My aura grew brighter and other things stirred. Sky-Pony tapped Carmen on the knee and then pointed to me.
Was I the first vampire ever to feel embarrassment? We were fearsome killers, rapacious as wolves, and yet at this moment, I, Felix the vampire, felt as awkward as a schoolboy at a dance.
Wendy whispered into my ear. "I can slide off you. Just say the word."
I didn't.
After a moment, she brushed her lips against my cheek. "I knew you wouldn't."
Bob turned on the TV by the bar and switched to the Weather Channel. Sunrise was to be 6:27.
The other vampires searched Ziggy's room and brought out a tray of Dermablend and sunblock, which we gooped on. At 6:00 A.M. we put on our sunglasses.
Carmen opened the blinds on the bay window. We vampires tucked ourselves into the shadows of the den. The dawn sky lightened, turning from black to purple, and now to blue. The rays of the sun peeked over the roof of the house on the other side of the yard. The sunbeam splashed against the wall. Minute by minute, the beam widened and scrolled down toward Ziggy.
When the sunbeam touched Ziggy's head, his skin wrinkled and smoldered. The stench of burning, rancid meat smacked us like a wave. The sun's rays lapped down Ziggy's body like a ravenous tongue of fire. His flesh turned black. Smoke curled against the ceiling.
The smoke detector went off. Centuries of death held at bay reclaimed Ziggy's corpse. His charred body collapsed into a pile of ash. Carmen closed the blinds. We took off our sunglasses. Sky-Pony crawled up the wall and yanked out the smoke detector's battery to silence the wail. The chalices started to cry again.
"How do we explain Ziggy's disappearance?" I asked.
Bob replied, "The Araneum will arrange it that he died of ‘natural causes' while vacationing in Panama. We'll appoint someone to take care of his estate. Now to clean this mess."
We lifted the shower curtain by the corners and carefully poured the ash into a garbage bag.
"What would happen if we added water?" Carmen joked. "Would we get instant vampire?"
"Yuck," Sky-Pony said. "I don't even like instant coffee."
A garbage bag filled with ash and another bag stuffed with his clothes, this was all that was left of Ziggy.
"You vampires aren't very sentimental," Wendy said.
"I doubt Hallmark makes a card for this," Bob replied.
Carmen stepped behind the female chalice. "Now that we've finished our janitorial duties, time for the vampire initiation. As reward for your loyalty, welcome to the ranks of the damned."
Carmen's eyes glowed in bloodlust. She grasped the female chalice's shirt collar with both hands and yanked. The chalice staggered to remain on her feet. Carmen wrestled with the chalice until the shirt and bra tore free. The chalice stood before us, bare-breasted. Sweat trickled down her pale face. Her eyes stared out into nothingness.
Sky-Pony grabbed the male chalice by the hair, ripped off his shirt, and forced him to kneel beside the female
.
"We've lost one vampire and gained two." Sky-Pony slapped the male chalice. "This is what each of you wants? Immortality as one of us?"
Both chalices whispered a frightened duet. "Yes." Their auras turned an incandescent red like heated metal.
All the vampires bared their fangs and circled the chalices. The vampires stripped naked and tossed their clothes behind them. Their orange auras merged and lit the darkened room with the fearsome intensity of a bonfire burning out of control. They would attack without hypnosis so that the screams of the chalices would fuel their undead ardor.
Carmen and Bob each took an arm of the female chalice and sank their fangs into opposite sides of her neck. The chalice squirmed—now a pale form of jiggly flesh—and shrieked in agony, for they bit without secreting anesthetic enzymes. Blood streamed down between her breasts.
Sky-Pony and Andre wrestled the male chalice to ground. Giving in to panic, he fought them. They fended off his blows and laughed as they relished this opportunity to prolong the kill. Their bare feet tracked blood across the carpet. So much for our tidiness.
So long as I never drank human blood, I would be immune to this descent into the lurid recesses of our feral nature. I've spilled enough human blood as a soldier.
Wendy looked me over. "Why are you still dressed?"
"I have my reasons."
Bob's loud snarl surged above the screams of the tormented chalices. He called me. "Felix, join us." Blood smeared the stubble of his beard and dotted the hairs on his chest.
"You know I can't, Bob," I said. "And after tonight? What do we do about the vampire hunters?"
Bob's blazing eyes narrowed. "The vânätori de vampir will get what's coming to them."
Chapter 16
I HADN'T MUCH CARED for Ziggy, to be honest. What disturbed me was that a vampire was murdered. It just happened to be him.
My personal dangers had escalated. The conspiracy behind the outbreak of nymphomania remained guarded by trigger-happy federal maniacs. Someone had tried to steal my computer and conked me on the head, and I'm sure that same guy had used me for target practice. Was he one of the vampire hunters prowling the streets of Denver?
The Nymphos of Rocky Flats Page 11