by PM Drummond
“You can do all that tonight?” I asked.
Griss jumped up from the chair in one fluid movement.
“You don’t live over two thousand years without making some connections, darlin’.”
Two thousand years. I tried to imagine living that long. If I had to live a day like this more than a few times, I’d be a raving lunatic. Of course, it was possible that just today would do the trick.
We walked up the stairs, Rune in the lead, me in the middle, and Griss in the back. I felt Griss’s eyes and thoughts on me.
“Griss,” I said. “If you can read my thoughts, why aren’t you giving up and backing off?”
“I can’t read your thoughts.”
“Why not? I thought that’s what you guys do.”
“I don’t have enough of your energy in me to home in on you. And you throw a lot of static. You’re hard to lock in on.”
“So if you absorbed enough of my energy, you could read me from then on?”
“Nope. Just until I’d used up the energy I’d absorbed from you, then I’d need more. Didn’t Rune explain any of this?”
“Shut up, Griss,” Rune said.
Rune entered a code in the alarm panel at the top of the stairs, and the door opened. We walked out near the end of a narrow service corridor with a closed door directly across from where we’d just exited and another to our left marked “Exit.” Long strips of black fabric blocked the opening at the end of the corridor creating a soft door. Keypads flanked the sides of the door we just came out of and the door across from us.
Booming music and a myriad of voices pushed their way through the opening at the far end of the hall. Raw-edged energy flowed through the opening in giant shock waves, pounding my chest. My head rattled, and I gritted my teeth to stop them from chattering. It felt as though thousands of invisible embers bombarded my skin. It was like being sprayed with hot oil.
Griss peeked around at my face. It was the first time I’d seen his expression completely serious.
“Rune,” he said, “we need to get her out of this hall. That stupid fabric door doesn’t block the energy from the club at all.”
Rune put his arm around me and moved us toward the door across the hall. The embers still stung my skin, but the excess buildup of power flowed through my contact with him. He entered a code on the panel next to the door. The door clicked open, and he ushered me inside. Once Griss closed the heavy metal door, the embers stopped. Hands on knees, I gasped and tried to calm the residual buzzing in my head.
“What the heck was that?” I said between coughs and wheezes. “I felt like I was being cooked alive.”
“That,” Griss said, “was the life force of hundreds of partying humans in all their drunk and horny glory.”
“No,” I said. “I went to a club a few years ago, and it was nothing like that.”
“It is possible that as your ability becomes more uncontrolled, you are becoming more sensitive,” Rune said almost as if to himself.
I straightened and took a deep breath.
“Well, all I can say is I now have a deep empathy for lobsters, and I’ll never eat one again.”
Griss laughed and patted my back, leaving his hand on me a little longer with each pat. Rune shot a look at him, and he dropped his hand, a naughty-child grin on his face.
Rune guided me to the stairs, which were the only thing in the tiny area we were in. At the landing on top was a steel door with no handle and no keypad. Rune held his hand to the door and closed his eyes. A scraping sound and a metallic clank echoed through the small space, and the door slid open. Once inside, Griss shut the huge, two-inch thick panel of steel, which served as a door, and slid home a steel bolt that spanned the length of the twelve-foot door.
I stopped and ran my hand over the cold metal.
“Who opened this?” I said.
“Rune,” Griss said. “Vampire security system.”
Rune again guided me in front of him, separating me from Griss. We walked down a long hall toward two opposing doors at the end.
“No one else has a reason to be here,” Rune said. “I opened the door with abilities much like your own. No one else but a vampire and perhaps now you can open the door.”
The doors at the end of the hall were also sliding metal slabs. The bolt on the right-hand door faced us. As before, Rune placed his hand on the door to the left and it opened.
“Why is that bolt on the inside?” I asked.
Rune swept his hand inward, inviting me into the room he’d just opened.
“That door leads to the fire escape outside,” he said with a smile. “Even vampires must adhere to fire codes, it seems.”
When I entered the room, automatic lights illuminated an expansive office. To the right sat a conversation pit area with a chocolate brown leather sofa and four matching club chairs around an oblong coffee table made of an ebony wood. A narrow, marble-topped buffet table sat behind the pit area and in front of another steel sliding panel. This panel, like the other ones, spanned from ceiling to floor and was at least twelve feet wide.
To the left sat a massive desk made of the same dark wood as the coffee table, the grain gleaming deep within the shining surface. Two guest chairs sat in front of the desk, and a high-back, leather chair commanded the area between the desk and the matching credenza behind it. The office exuded masculinity in deep brown, black, leather, and exotic wood tones.
Only one aspect of the office stood out among the rich decor. The entire expanse of wall behind the desk was dedicated to a mural of a beach. I tried to make sense of the beautifully painted picture in the scheme of the room. The scene’s perimeter was dark, which did seem to blend into the colors surrounding it, but the center of it glowed with the blues, oranges, golds, and yellows of a magnificent sunrise. Streaks of light shot from the cresting sun crowding out the twilight. The image was beautiful in its own right, but didn’t quite fit with the somber tones of the room.
Besides, wasn’t the sun lethal to vampires? Wouldn’t a sunrise like this mean certain death to—
One glance at Rune confirmed my gruesome train of thought. The light that shone in his eyes only a moment ago was gone, replaced by a dull matte of pain deeper than anything I had ever experienced in my short but dysfunctional life. He broke eye contact and walked to the desk.
“Damn creepy, huh?” I jumped at Griss’s voice and spun to find him lounged across the sofa. He motioned his head toward the mural.
“It’s like a human having a mural of a plane crash in their living room,” Griss said.
I sucked in a breath. “Plane crash,” I said alarmed. “I just realized, I can’t fly. I’ve never flown. I can’t do it.”
Rune sat at the desk typing on his computer.
“Do not let Griss concern you with his ill-timed and thoughtless comment. Flying is one of the safest ways to travel.”
“No. You don’t get it,” I said. “I can’t drive a regular car because I fry the circuitry. I’ll crash the plane or at a minimum have everyone floating two feet off their seats. And even if I make it there in one piece, I can’t rent a car and have any hope of driving it without it going up in smoke.”
I plopped down in one of the chairs that faced the desk. Rune’s fingers hesitated in their quick movement over the keys.
“What about a sedative? Have you ever taken one?”
“My parents tried medication when I was a child. It would work for a few days, then wear off. No matter how much they increased the dosage.”
“Interesting.” His eyes squinted as he looked me over. “Were you ill much as a child?”
“What? No. I was never ill. What does that have to do with it?”
“It is a possibility,” he said, “that your gift acts as a second immune system or enhances your immune system in some way. It might also work to negate the effects of medication.”
“How can that happen? It’s just energy that’s involved,” I said.
“Remember what I said
earlier?” Rune asked. “If you can manipulate energy, there is little you can’t do. Humans can heal themselves of disease by the sheer force of their will. That will manipulates the energy of the host, boosting metabolism and destroying diseases that human medicine cannot.”
“So how does that create my anti-medicine constitution?”
“I believe after enough time, your gift somehow neutralizes whatever invades the body.”
“Okay, so how does that help me get to Montana?”
“You said the medication would work for a few days, correct?” He picked up the telephone receiver on his desk and dialed a number.
“Yes.”
“So we send you with one medication and bring you back with a different one.”
“I can’t fly unconscious.”
“A sedating medication only. Something that will interrupt the nerve impulses, but won’t put you out.”
Someone picked up on the other end of the phone, and Rune had a short conversation in Spanish, then disconnected. He dialed another number, and after a short conversation in what sounded like Russian, he hung up the phone. He pulled out his cell.
“Smile,” he said.
“What?”
He snapped my picture with the phone and pushed more commands like he was sending it to someone.
“What was that?” I asked.
He turned back to the computer and continued to type.
“It’s arranged,” he said. “You will have medication, new identification, credit cards, and a stocked overnight bag within two hours.”
“And let’s just hope your plane isn’t delayed, or you miss a connection,” Griss said.
What an ass, I thought.
“To say the least,” Rune said.
Tony drove me to John Wayne Airport in Santa Ana for my seven a.m. flight. LAX in Los Angeles was closer, but Rune figured LAX was huge and hectic, and my stress level would be minimized at a smaller airport. The airport may have been smaller, but the security line to be scanned to get to the gates seemed a mile long.
Tony stayed with me, insisting that Rune would know if he didn’t see me to the gate as instructed. He stood next to me like a bodyguard, and he looked the part. He was about six-five with arms the size of hams, picnic roast size not the little puny ones. He looked about forty-ish but there wasn’t a line on his face. If I had to guess, I’d say he had Italian genes with his slightly olive complexion and short-cropped shiny black hair. As bad-ass as he looked, he was quiet and polite, like he had a stern Italian mama somewhere that brought him up to be respectful.
“Honestly, Tony,” I said, “there are only ten more people ahead of me. You can go. I don’t need to be babysat. I won’t have a babysitter when I get to Montana.”
Tony shook his head.
“No ma’am. My instructions were clear. I stay with you till you get checked through the Homeland Security checkpoint.”
“I don’t even know why he’s going to all this trouble,” I said.
Tony looked thoughtfully at me a moment. “I’ve not seen Mr. Rune so animated,” he said. “Ever. In all my years of serving him, this is the most interest I’ve seen him show. In anything or anyone.” Tony pursed his lips together like something was distasteful. “And he chuckles now. Almost laughs. He’s never chuckled.”
I rolled my eyes. “He seems to have a pretty cushy life, and plenty of money. He’s good looking and doesn’t seem to want for anything,” I said.
“And yet, he enjoys none of it,” Tony said. “And spends more and more time staring at that mural behind his desk.”
We shuffled a few more inches forward—me inside the ribbon rope, Tony on the outside. I looked back to him to plead my “really you can leave” case again and was knocked to the floor by a woman in a business suit. She’d been dragging a small Pullman suitcase, reading something on her mobile phone and walking at a clip that my grandmother would have called “so fast her butt must have been on fire.”
She ran into both Tony and I at the same time. Tony and the woman wound up on top of me with my overnight bag tangled up in the woman’s Pullman handles.
“Oh dear,” the woman said. “I’m so sorry.”
She pushed up with one hand on my chest and one hand on my suitcase. If there was anything breakable in my suitcase, it was a mess now. I cringed at the thought of opening the case in Montana and finding a gooey clump of shampoo-clotted underwear.
My energy level ratcheted up a notch despite the sedative I’d taken before I left Rune’s club. The woman helped Tony to his feet then held a hand out to me as I lay sprawled on the floor. I grabbed at her hand but caught hold of her arm instead. She clutched my forearm and pulled me up with such force my feet left the ground.
“Whoa,” I said. “What do you bench press, two fifty?” Her bicep had been like steel.
The woman laughed nervously.
“I’m so sorry.” She lifted my suitcase, dusted it off, and handed it to me. “I got some sort of a shock from you when we touched. It made me misjudge my own strength, I guess.”
Great, I’d supercharged her with just a touch. Good thing she didn’t have a heart condition, or I’d have probably killed her.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “I could escort you to the first-aid office if you’re not.”
She touched my arm and an audible snap and spark made her pull back and put her fingers in her mouth. My hair lifted, and I hurried to smooth it. Three of the electronic scanning gates in front of us went off at the same time. Two of them didn’t have anyone in them.
“I’m fine, really,” I told her. “Just fine. You can leave.” Please leave before I accidentally kill you.
I spoke more harshly than I’d meant to, and the woman stepped back. I hoped I hadn’t said the thing about killing her out loud.
“Well,” she said, brushing her suit off and picking up her things. “Okay then. Sorry again.”
She left without a second look back.
“Great,” I said to Tony. “I’m just a laugh a minute. I think I need another sedative.” I lowered my voice. “Or I’m never going to get through those gates.”
The frazzled security guards had stopped the lines of waiting people and were in the process of resetting the gates.
“If I do that to the security gates, what am I going to do to the plane?” I whispered and pulled Tony to me, careful to touch only his jacket collar. “I’m going to kill whoever is on the plane with me. I don’t think I can do this.”
With two fingers, Tony pulled his jacket from my grip, careful not to touch my hand.
“It’s okay, Ms. Marlee,” he said. “The boss said you could take up to three of those pills at a time, possibly more as time goes by. He said you had a strong constitution.”
I chuffed and pulled the pill bottle from my backpack. It was a legitimate-looking medicine bottle from a national chain pharmacy with my fake name on it. I didn’t even want to think of how he pulled that one off. The directions said to take one pill two times a day. I’d already taken three in the last four hours.
I popped two more of the pills in my mouth and swallowed them dry, gagging only slightly. In the ten minutes it took the security personnel to restart the gates and get the line moving again, I felt calmer, a little giddy, in fact, and hungry for something crunchy.
“I think I’m okay now.” I smiled at Tony. “Too bad these things don’t work on me long term.” I pulled him to me again to whisper, “My little problem wouldn’t be a problem anymore.”
He smiled at me uncertainly again pulling his jacket from my grip.
Eventually, the line turned, and since he was on the outside of the ribbon, he couldn’t go any farther.
“Will you be okay?”
“Just peachy,” I said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
CHAPTER SIX
TIBBY FROM NOWHERE
Fortunately for me and all the passengers and crew aboard the aircraft, I did not cause it to plummet to the ground. That consi
derable feat had taken no less than four more sedatives out of my first bottle, each pill lasting significantly less time than its predecessor. My plane landed in Montana, and I rented a car and bought a map with the ID, credit card, and cash Rune had given me. According to my new driver’s license, my name was Marilyn Marie Montgomery.
I checked the bottle’s dwindling supply as I found the little Ford Escort in the rental parking lot. I pressed the unlock button on the key fob and flinched, waiting for it to spark and go up in flames. The fob stayed intact and the door locks thunked open. Relieved, I threw my overnight bag and backpack in the front seat, got in, and started the car. It fired right up, but the radio cracked in and out and the speedometer pegged, went to zero, then pegged again. That’s what I got for letting my healthy, well-earned paranoia slip.
I shut the car off before I fried it completely, took two more pills, and waited until I felt the medicine calm my tingling skin. After ten minutes, I started the car, but the dashboard instruments again showed signs of distress, so I shut it off again.
I dug the other sedatives out of my backpack. Rune had said to use these on my way home. He’d assumed that I wouldn’t become immune to the first medication until about halfway through the visit. At this rate, I’d have to figure something else out for the trip back. I seriously hoped I didn’t wind up having to walk back to Southern California. I hadn’t brought my cross-trainers or enough socks.
After taking the sedatives, luckily, the car worked normally, and I was on my way.
When Griss had said that Aunt Tibby lived out in the sticks, I hadn’t really appreciated the term. I appreciated it now. The directions my mother had given Griss were filled with instructions like, “turn at the dirt road beyond mile marker twenty-three” and, “go two-point-four miles and turn onto the dirt path.” My mother must have last been here when she was a teenager, because a lot seemed to have changed. I had to backtrack several times, and I was just beginning to feel like I was caught in one of the old reruns of The Twilight Zone I used to watch as a kid, when I finally found my great-aunt’s home, although “home” wasn’t really the right word for it. It was more of a rustic cabin with a small, lopsided outhouse about forty feet behind it.