“With my life,” said Padillas, taking the next paper from the stack and signing it. “I’m sure my money’s safe in his hands.”
Padillas stood up and offered his hand to the young woman, thinking again of how nice it would be to feel her body next to his in bed. He hadn’t had sex in over a year, since the cancer had taken charge of his life. And he didn’t think he was up to it now either. Besides, this was not a high priced hooker in front of him. She had a wedding ring, though from experience he knew that did not always stop a woman from wanting some strange cock in her.
“Are you sure you’re OK, sir,” said the woman, rousing Padillas from his thoughts. “You don’t look well.”
“Just tired,” said Padillas, blinking the tiredness from his eyes. “I’ll be OK with a little sleep.”
Sally smiled as she took his hand in a firm business shake, placing her other hand over the top of his. Padillas’ eyes widened as she traced her fingers gently over his palm when he withdrew his hand. Padillas smiled back, shrugged his shoulders and turned away.
So she would have been an easy conquest after all, he thought as he walked through the door of the bank. Money is the greatest aphrodisiac in the world, followed by power.
Padillas opened the door to the Mercedes parked in front of the bank and slid into the back seat.
“Where to now, sir?” asked the driver, looking through the rear view mirror.
“Take me to Sister Fannie’s,” said Padillas, wiping the sweat off of his face as he fought back the nausea. “I want her to tell me what she sees.”
“Yes sir,” said the driver, pulling the car out into the street and accelerating away. Padillas sat in the back, looking out over the city, his city, for maybe the last time he would see it in the light of day. The Fall was finally here, but that didn’t mean much in Florida except for slightly cooler temperatures.
I miss the Winter, he thought, nostalgia taking charge of his emotions. Though he had grown up in Florida, from Greek parents who had settled in Naples in the early part of the twentieth century, he had traveled extensively in the Marines and on summer break in college. Plus, when he had made his fortune he had traveled around the world, skiing in Europe and Colorado, diving in Australia. He still found central Florida to be as close to paradise as anywhere he had ever been. But sometimes it was nice to feel the actual weather of the world.
When I’m well again I will travel where ever I want, he thought. Though it might not be the same at night. But it’s better than nonexistence.
His thoughts were broken as the car pulled into the drive of a modest house. A hand lettered sign in the front yard told the world that Sister Fannie, reader of fortunes, was open for business. Padillas was out of the car as soon as it stopped and headed up the sidewalk to the front door. He rang the bell and waited for a moment, hoping that the old woman was at home. And that she was not busy with another client. He didn’t think that was likely when there wasn’t another car parked in the drive or on the street in front of the house.
After what seemed like longer but could have only been a few minutes Padillas heard the sound of someone moving toward the door. The door swung inward just a bit, stopped by a chain that kept it from opening further. A wrinkled black face looked through the small opening. The face smiled, the door shut, and Padillas could hear the sound of the chain being withdrawn from its slot. The door swung wide open again, to reveal the short, heavyset black woman standing inside, running one hand over her kinky gray hair.
“Welcome, Mr. Padillas,” said the woman in the accent of the Caribbean. “I did not have you down for an appointment this day.”
“I was hoping that you might have some time to see me today, Madame Fannie,” said Padillas, flashing the woman a smile.
“Of course. Of course, Mr. Padillas,” said the woman, returning the smile. “I had a cancellation, so this is your lucky day. Come in.”
Padillas walked through the doorway, watching his feet to keep from stepping on the two or three cats that seemed to orbit the woman wherever she walked within her house. He reached down and ran his hand over the soft fur of an orange tabby and was rewarded with a vibrating purr.
“Mr. Max sure seems to like you, Mr. Padillas,” said Madame Fannie, leading the man back to the room that she used to give her readings.
“I’ve always liked Max,” said Padillas, himself a cat man. “He reminds me of one I had a decade or so ago.”
“How is the pain today?” asked Fannie, as she shooed the cats away before opening the door to the reading room.
Padillas felt a chill run up his spine as she mentioned his illness. That was what had made him a believer. When three years before this woman had told him that he had a terminal illness growing in his belly. Weeks before even he knew of the illness. The doctors had confirmed it at that time, and given him a year or two to live. Fooled them, didn’t I, thought Padillas. He had lasted three years, though the pain told him the time was coming, soon.
Padillas looked around the darkened room as he entered it. The small round table sat directly in the middle, the black cloth draped over it as always. Madame Fannie flicked a lighter and lit the black candle in the holder in the center of the table, then turned off the low light that had illuminated the room.
“Have a seat, Mr. Padillas,” said the woman as she sat in her own chair. Padillas sat in the offered chair, resting his elbows on the top of the table. “And what can I do for you today, sir?”
“I have come to a crossroads, Madame Fannie,” said the man, staring into the light of the thick candle. “I know what I need to do. But I would like some assurances that everything will work out.”
“And if I can’t find any assurances for you, Mr. Padillas?”
“Then I’ll take the truth,” answered Padillas. “I may not follow the advice, but I’ll listen to it.”
“Of course, sir,” said the woman, her eyes staring at him across the short space. “You have always been one to follow your own path, even when it was one that would cause great harm to others. Or to yourself.”
Padillas felt the thrilling shiver again. The woman did not use tea leaves, cards, or the lines of his palms, the props she may have used on other, more gullible clients. But Padillas could feel the power in this old woman, power that did not need to be revealed other than through her words.
“So what’s the verdict, Madame?”
Fannie stared at him for a while longer. Time seemed to slow, as she looked deeper and deeper into his eyes, like a hypnotist bringing her subject into a trance state. But he knew the woman was looking into his soul, not his mind. And that she would see the truth of the matter.
“I see death,” said the woman in a quiet voice. “I see much death. Your death. The deaths of many others. And I see something after death, but not the afterlife that most of us face.”
“What is this something?” said Padillas, leaning closer to the woman. “What does it mean to me?”
“Damnation,” hissed Madame Fannie, her eyes going too wide to seem possible to the man. “Eternal and irrevocable damnation. An eternity of Hell, both on Earth and after you no longer walk the Earth.”
“But I will still live on?” said Padillas, his right hand reaching out and grasping the woman’s forearm in a tight grip. “I’ll live forever, won’t I?”
“You must leave,” said Madame Fannie, pulling her arm out of his grip with surprising strength. “On my soul I can tell you no more.”
“Please, Madame…”
“Leave,” she said loudly, standing up and turning on the light to its full brightness. “You must leave.”
Padillas stood up as he reached for his wallet. Leafing through the bills he pulled three hundreds out and tossed them on the table.
“I don’t want your money, Mr. Padillas,” said the woman, holding the door open. “I do not want you to return. You are no longer welcome in my home.”
“The cats need to eat,” said Padillas, ignoring the money as he walked f
rom the room. Max was outside the door and rubbed against his leg as he left the room. Padillas reached down and touched the cat on the head. Max looked up, his eyes wide and teeth bared, a loud hiss coming out of his mouth as he ducked away from the hand.
“They know,” said Madame Fannie. “They know of the terrible thing you will choose to become. For the love of God do not do this thing.”
Padillas looked over at the woman, slowly shaking his head, then turned to walk to the front door. He pulled it open, then turned back to the woman.
“I thank you for all of your help through the years,” said Padillas, looking into the woman’s eyes. “I’m sorry we had to part this way.”
“I too am sorry,” said Fannie. “I fear for your soul. I fear for my soul, if I had anything to do with leading you down this dark path.”
Padillas turned and walked quickly down the concrete pathway back to the driveway, feeling like the devil was chasing him the whole way. Am I doing the right thing, he thought. But the pain that hit him as he opened the door told him all he needed to know. He did not want to die. He was afraid to die. All of his money couldn’t keep him alive. But he could still cheat death.
And she knows, he thought, as the driver backed the car from the driveway to the street. I can’t have that. No one but the trusted few must know that I have died and come back. So she must die. Not tonight, or even the next day, because people might have seen me come in here and link me with her. But soon she must die.
Padillas lay back in his seat on the way home, smiling as he thought of the end of his pain that would come with this night.
* * *
Madame Fannie poured herself a stiff drink of rum and sat down in the comfortable chair in the living room. Max and Sabrina jumped onto the chair and climbed onto her as she took a large chug of the alcohol, then pulled a fat joint of marijuana from the side table and lit up. The old woman took a heavy toke, feeling first the smoke enter her lungs, then the wave of relaxation that swept through her body.
She knew she would not sleep well this night, no matter how much weed she smoked or alcohol she drank. There wasn’t enough in the city to cover up the terror of what she had seen in the soul of George Padillas. She had seen death in many forms. She had known that George Padillas dealt in death himself. Both in the deadly drugs he moved into Central Florida, and in the people he had gotten rid of to protect that terrible business. And she had still dealt with the man because his money was good and she could tell herself that she was not furthering his business with her predictions.
But today she had seen different types of death. Death that brought more death, and perpetuated itself down the line, into eternity. Death that came on leathery wings in the night Death that captured the soul and held it in bondage. And she had seen her own death in the soul of the man. Because she knew, and he could not afford to have her know.
Fannie took another toke of the good pot, and held it in her lungs. Max settled on her chest and started purring deeply in his body, the soothing vibrations passing into her. Fannie ran her fingers through his soft fur. Sabrina meowed from her perch on the chair arm.
“Jealous,” said Fannie, putting the half joint into the ashtray on the side table and stroking the female Calico. I’m an old woman, she thought, playing with the cats. Death will not be that frightening to me. Losing my soul is frightening. And who will take care of my babies?
Her three other adult cats bounded into the room at that thought, followed by the two kittens. She had no relatives, no family other than the cats. And she could not stand the thought of the trusting cats ending up in the animal shelter. Or on the street, fending for themselves.
There is hope, she thought, sifting all of the images she had seen in her reading of the man. There was another shadow in the background. A shadow that radiated the same evil as the others, but somehow felt different. A shadow that came out of the darkness and stopped the other shadows before they took the life of an old Jamaican woman. She continued to pet the cats as she settled back into her chair and tried to forget what she had seen.
* * *
Lucinda tried to move on the table, feeling the horrible illness that fatigue brought on her, and the terrible hunger that fought its way through the feelings of sickness. The vampire flexed her arms and legs, trying to break the restraints that held her to the table. But she was just too weak to accomplish even that simple task.
“I wouldn’t bother,” said the man standing by the door, holding a crucifix in his hand. “Those straps can hold a rhino down.”
Lucinda turned her head toward the voice, baring her fangs. She could smell the blood of the man, his life pulsing through his veins. She could almost taste the blood in him. The sweet blood that would chase the hunger from her body. That would give her the strength to leave this place.
“You want me, bitch,” said the man, who she now recognized as Jake. He walked over to the table, holding the cross before him. Lucinda felt the new terror fighting its way through the sickness and weakness. She turned her face away from the symbol, removing it from her sight.
“Let’s see how you like this,” said Jake, putting the cross on her forearm. The symbol touched her flesh with a sizzling sound, as she opened her mouth in a silent scream, agony lancing through her.
“God Dammit, Jake,” roared a voice from the doorway. Footsteps sounded on the wood floor, and the cross was jerked away from her flesh. She let out another hiss from the pain, but also felt the relief of the cessation of the burning into her arm.
Lucinda turned her head back to see Jake being pulled back by the large form of Manny. Manny twisted the smaller man around by his shoulder and slapped Jake across the face.
“The boss said she wasn’t to be harmed. Motherfucker,” yelled Manny, backhanding the man. “What fucking part of that didn’t you understand?”
“I’m sorry, Manny,” whined Jake, putting a hand up to defend his face. Manny knocked it down and grabbed the front of Jake’s shirt, pulling the man toward him till they were staring at each other nose to nose.
Lucinda struggled against her bonds. There was food here, enough to satisfy her hunger and more. But she couldn’t get to it. She felt weaker than a normal human, much less a hunter of the night. Part of that was the daytime, when her powers were not present. Another part was not having slept in her resting place during the morning. And the third was having gone through the night without feeding. That was the part that was really taking it out of her. And the holy room was not helping all that much, augmenting all of her other illnesses.
“You watch her,” said Manny, giving the man one more shake and releasing him. “The boss wants her in one piece and as healthy as she can be. And I want what the boss wants. So do your job, or I’ll make sure your ass is dead, motherfucker. Understand?”
“Sure, Manny,” stammered Jake, looking from the man to the vampire and back to the man.
Manny stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Jake stared at the closed door for a moment, then back at Lucinda. He jumped at the look on her face; the hungry smile of a hunter that knew you would be in its larder, eventually. Jake started for her, the crucifix in his hand coming up. He stopped a few feet from her, the expressions on his face showing the war of emotions that was going on within.
“You’re mine, bitch,” hissed Jake, staring down at her. “For what you did to my friend, last night, you’re mine. When the boss is done with you I get to take care of you.”
“And you’re mine,” whispered the vampire, staring into the man’s eyes, projecting her will toward him. The man looked away under the gaze, anger turning to fear in his eyes. “When I am free of these bonds all of you are mine.”
* * *
“You ready for another long and sleepless night?” said Jeffrey DeFalco, looking over at Washington.
“I could do with a little help,” said the detective, stirring her coffee with a plastic stick. “I wish the chief would give you some more manpower.”
/> “I’m grateful for what he gave me,” said DeFalco, glancing back at the Padillas house. The shadows were growing longer on the ground as the sun started on its path below the horizon. “I could be out here on my own, like in the past. And I’ll have to tell you. Every other time I’ve tried to get this girl through a one-man stake out I’ve failed. Two of us double my chances.”
“But so far also failure,” said the woman, nodding toward the house. “At least we know Padillas is in there tonight.”
Washington turned back toward DeFalco, a look of alarm on her face.
“But what if she’s already gone, and we’re wasting our time here?” said Washington, looking down at the briefing sheet she had gotten from the station. “There was no body found last night. Or the night before.”
“I don’t have anything better to do,” said DeFalco, staring at the Padillas house. “If she’s gone somewhere else I sure don’t know where. And she normally doesn’t pull off of a target until that target is dead. So I think my best bet is to stay right here on the probability that she’ll be back, until she can verify that Padillas is dead.”
“I guess I don’t have anything better to do, either,” said Tanesha, smiling.
“I think you might have a future in the Bureau,” said DeFalco. “You have a good, inquisitive mind. We could use you in the field.”
“All I have is a Criminology Degree,” she answered. “I thought you needed a Law or Accounting Degree to get in the Bureau?”
“Not always,” said DeFalco, looking into her eyes. “We can get you on a scholarship to further your studies. And you can serve as an apprentice in the meantime.”
“An apprentice?”
“I need someone to help me in my cases. My pursuit of darkness,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and looking into her eyes.
“You’re not going to let this end if you destroy her, are you?”
“You think she’s the only one out there?” he said, looking back into the night. “You remember Tashawn? How he threw the car through the window of the hotel? Well there are more being made like him every day. Every night more of these hunters go out and feed. And in their wake they leave new vampires. Most people don’t believe it. But you do. You’ve seen it. You know it’s real. And I can use someone who knows to be on my side.”
The Hunger Page 23