“Preferably without causing a multi-state manhunt for a bunch of cop killers,” I added, eyeballing Sally.
“You take all the fun out of this,” she cooed. “I don't suppose you're all up for a high speed chase?”
“In this land-yacht?”
“No, I suppose not,” she said, still without a trace of panic. “Looks like there's an exit coming up in about a mile. Take it and then pull over, preferably someplace dark.”
“And then?” Ed asked.
“And then try not to act guilty, obviously.”
He did as instructed. Tom, for his part, managed to get his shit together long enough to rummage through the glove compartment for anything useful. He was in luck and found both a registration and insurance card for one Harold Lively ... ironic considering his not-so-lively status right now, at least according to Sally.
The exit, as many in upstate New York tended to be, was dark and not well traveled. For about the ten-thousandth time in my life, I marveled how such vast rural desolation could exist so close to the insane urban sprawl of the city. Streetlights were few and far between, as was traffic, thankfully. Thus, Ed had no problem pulling over into the gloom as the boys in blue glided in behind us.
“Now, everyone just be cool,” Sally said, sounding like a character from a Quentin Tarantino movie.
The cop, a lone trooper on interstate traffic duty, got out and slowly walked up to the driver’s side window. Ed put on his best friendly smile. “Good evening, officer,” he said, perhaps a little too overly chipper.
In return he got the standard, “License and registration, sir” response followed by, “In a rush tonight?”
Ed handed over the documents. “Heh. Sorry about that. Sometimes I forget how fast this boat can actually go.”
“Uh huh. Have you been drinking tonight, Mr. Vesser?” asked the trooper, glancing at the license.
“No, sir,” he replied in that same trying-too-hard tone. “Just borrowed my uncle's car to take some friends to the movies.”
“Wait here,” said the trooper, turning back toward his cruiser – probably to run the license and registration through the system.
“Smooth going, Slick,” whispered Sally. She then opened the door and stepped out.
The cop stopped what he was doing for a moment, no doubt to take in the sight of her. She had that effect on people. However, then his training took over. “Please step back into the car, ma'am,” he said, his eyes appearing to be focused on a spot somewhere south of her face.
“Please, sir,” she said in a voice that sounded genuinely agitated. “I need to speak to you. Please!”
That last one caught the cop's attention and he waved her over. He shouted back toward us, “The rest of you just stay where you are!” and together they walked back to his car.
“What the hell is she up to?” I asked once she was out of earshot ... maybe. Damn sensitive vampire hearing.
“Dude,” Tom said. “Isn't it obvious? Chick like that knows how to play ‘em. A little sucky-sucky action and we'll be on our way.”
“No. I don’t think so,” Ed replied. “Did you see the way she was acting? She’d better not be selling our asses out. What do you think, Bill?”
“She has shown a penchant for bitch-like behavior,” I replied, starting to wonder if maybe this wasn't a good idea. I really hoped she wasn't about to fuck us over. If that happened, I'd probably have to act. Sure, I didn't want to have a dead cop on my conscience, but I didn't want to wind up in San Quentin either. Of course, that assumed I lived long enough to do so. One medical exam, and I'm sure some lawyer would try parading my ass out into the sunlight for a press conference, and then POOF! No more Bill.
“So, what do we do?” Tom asked. He had been so caught up in his little X-rated fantasy that he hadn't considered the other possibilities. A slight twinge of panic had worked its way into his voice.
Before I could answer, most likely with something lame, Ed spoke up. “We play it by ear. Pretty much the only thing we can do. If it comes down to it, Sally's not the only vampire in the car.”
“Are you sure you want me to...”
“Listen,” he interrupted. “From the sound of things, we're already waist deep in shit's creek. You, my friend, are in even deeper. If she's trying to screw us over, you're gonna need to decide pretty quickly whether you're going to swim or swallow.”
“Okay,” was about the only intelligent response I was capable of giving. Hopefully it didn't come down to that.
We all turned to watch what was happening. The cop's car still had the flashers going, so it was difficult to tell, but we could see both their silhouettes. However, that all changed in the space of a heartbeat ... for those of us who still had them, at least. One second there were two shadows, and the next, it was a jumbled confusion.
A few moments passed and the lights on the police car all turned off. When my vision finally readjusted to the darkness, I saw Sally closing the front door and turning to walk back toward us. Sprawled, unmoving in the dirt next to the car, was the police officer.
I jumped out of the Escalade to confront her, but when she reached me, she looked oddly out of breath. Weird. She should've been able to break that guy in half without so much as suffering a hair out of place.
Before I could speak, she held up a hand to silence me. “I suggest,” she said, catching her breath, “we discuss this on the road.”
Sound advice, all in all, I thought, holding open the door to let her in. She stumbled a bit, so I helped her out, catching an elbow in the gut for my troubles. Oof! Guess she wasn't that wiped out. Jeez, it's not like I was purposely trying to cop a feel. Not my fault her ass just happened to be in the way.
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
Ed, not being a fool, peeled out the second I was back in my seat. I saw his eyes lock onto Sally’s in the rearview as he said, “No bullshit. I want to know exactly how fucked we are.”
“Relax,” she wheezed. “Whew! That took more out of me than I thought it would. We're fine. Harold Lively is the one who's fucked but, considering his current condition, I don't think he'll mind all that much.”
“I have no clue what you're talking about. English please.”
“What did you do?” I asked, even though I had a sneaky suspicion of what she was going to say.
“I compelled the cop – basically planted the thought in his mind that Harold was alone in the car. Then I decked him.”
“You can do that to a person?” Ed asked.
“Well, yeah, all you do is ball up your fist and...”
“No, the first part,” he clarified.
“I guess so,” she answered. “Heard it could be done but never tried it myself. Thought my head was going to pop off there for a second, but then it took hold.”
“But the cop's okay?” I asked.
In response, she gave me her typical attitude. “I'm touched that you care. He's gonna be out for a while. Cracked jaw and probably a concussion, but he should be fine. Harold, on the other hand, is going to have one hell of an APB out for him,” she said with a smile, pleased at her own cleverness.
“Impressive.”
“It was, wasn't it?” she agreed smugly.
“Yes, with one little exception.”
“What? Annoyed that I didn't consult you first?” she asked with an annoyed sniff.
“No. Annoyed because the cops are going to be after us anyway.”
“You might want to keep up with the conversation. I just finished telling everyone that the cops would be after Harold.”
“Yes, Harold – who just so happens to be driving around in the same Escalade that we’re sitting in,” I said with just a trace of my own smugness.
She stared at me with a blank look for a moment and then blurted out, “Oh crap.”
“Oh crap is right. So, I suggest we hightail it back to the city as soon as possible and ditch the pimp mobile here at the first chance we get.”
For
once, there was no dissent with something I suggested.
Grudge Match
We parked the Escalade close to Flushing Meadows and gave it a thorough wipe down for prints. I wasn't worried so much for Sally, but Tom, Ed, and I were still on the grid, so to speak. Once finished, we ditched it and headed about a half mile south to grab the M train.
It was a long ride back home with several transfers, but there was one high note to the whole thing. I don't think I'd ever been so at ease riding the subway that late at night. Ed and Tom both looked fairly relaxed, too. Safety in numbers is great and all, but it doesn't beat traveling with two vampires, at least one of whom has shown relatively little concern so far for silly things like human life. There were definitely some perks to this whole undead predator of the night thing.
We finally arrived back at our building in the wee hours of the morning. Well, at least we couldn't complain that it hadn't been a full day.
We stopped at the stoop of our apartment and I turned to Sally. “Heading back to SoHo?”
“In a bit. Just as soon as we plot out some next steps. We should probably have a contingency plan ready in case Jeff is already on the warpath.”
“In other words, you're reluctant to leave my studly side,” I said with a grin.
“I'm no scholar of linguistics, but I'm fairly sure the English language doesn't allow words such as studly to appear in sentences about you,” she shot back.
Unfortunately, our little discourse – or as I liked to think of it, foreplay – was cut short by Ed.
“Uh oh,” he said from the top of the stairs.
“Define ’uh oh.’”
“This.” He stepped aside to give the front door a small push. It opened freely. “I haven't pulled out my key yet.”
“Someone could have left it unlocked,” I pointed out.
“More like someone kicked it in,” Tom said. “It looks like the lock is all busted.”
“Coincidence?” I asked Sally.
“Call me pessimistic, but I don't think you're going to get that lucky.” She walked up the steps and ordered my roommates to stand aside. She looked over the area for a moment and then declared, “Vampire but, lucky us, only one.”
“How can you tell?” I called up to her.
She pointed to her nose. “It's obvious. Can't you smell it?”
“We can do that?” I sheepishly asked back, getting an unsurprising eye-roll in return.
“Should we get out of here?” Ed asked.
“No. I think he's gone,” she said, and then turned to me to add, “Yes, we can do that, too.” Bitch.
“Get out of my way.” I pushed past her to the door and then started walking up. My roommates followed right behind.
As we could have guessed, the door to the apartment had also been kicked in. Hell, it had almost been kicked in half. Whoever had been here had definitely been disinclined to take no for an answer.
“Motherfucker,” said Ed softly as we walked in.
The place was trashed. Debris that had once been our belongings littered the floor, holes had been punched in the walls, and the couch had been utterly gutted.
“Think someone wanted to get our attention?” Tom asked. I could tell he was attempting to stay strong, but his voice cracked a little at the edges.
“Maybe just a little,” I quipped.
“Whoa,” Sally said as she entered. “Hope you guys were insured.”
I was going to say something to that, but Ed caught my attention. “Please tell me this isn't what I think it is.” He pointed to a section of floor close to the kitchen.
I stepped over to him. The area was clear of debris with one notable exception. There was an arrow drawn in some brown sludge-like substance pointing toward the counter where the only things that remained untouched were our phone and answering machine.
“Looks like someone shit on the floor and then drew with it,” I said. Tom stepped up and echoed the sentiment.
“That's just wrong on so many levels,” Ed replied.
“I think,” Sally said, “that someone was trying real hard to make sure you didn't miss that.” She indicated the blinking light on the machine. Someone had left us a message.
My roommates and I looked at each other for a moment. I'm sure we all could guess whose voice would be awaiting us on the message. Well okay, they had never heard my dickhead coven leader speak, but I'm sure they could make an educated guess if they had to.
“We should probably see who we need to send the cleaning bill to.” I pressed play. To the surprise of absolutely nobody, Jeff's voice started speaking back to us.
“Hey, asshole. Nobody was home, so I let myself in. Hope you like what I did with the place. Gives it some character, don't you think?”
“This is just the opening course. I don't know if you heard or not, but your buddy, Ozymandias, is going to be out of town for a little while. What that means for you, Dr. Dead, is that his protection is now null and void. Your ass is mine, and don't think any of that Freewill bullshit is going to save you.”
“Now, you're probably thinking you might hightail it out of town and you still might, not that it would matter. I'd hunt you down and make you hurt for a long time. But just to give you some reason to stay and play, I have a little incentive for you. I got your mom, bitch.”
”What?” I blurted out, but Sally shushed me.
“Say hello to your baby boy.”
I could hear a female voice whimpering in the background for a few moments before being silenced by what sounded like a slap.
“That's enough. Now, I'm a fair master. If you do what I say, I might let your dear old mommy walk out of this alive. But you’d better hurry, because I'm getting hungry. There's an old warehouse down by the docks on West Tenth. Be there at dawn. I'll leave the front porch light on for you.
“You show up and I'll let you trade yourself for her. If you pussy out and run, she dies ... badly. And then I still hunt you down and kill you. Either way you look at it, you come to an end. It's up to you whether you do it like a man or a dog. I'll be waiting.”
“He has my mom?” I asked, panic setting in as the message ended.
“Calm...”
“Do not tell me to calm down!” I snapped at Sally. “We are not even remotely close to the proximity of calm here.”
“I take it that fucker was Jeff,” Ed commented.
Sally nodded in response.
“Dude,” Tom said, sounding nearly as shocked as I did. “We gotta save her.”
“No shit,” I growled at him, causing him to jump back a little. “Sorry, man. Didn't mean that.”
He nodded to let me know it was cool, but then got that panicky look in his eye again. “What about your dad? He didn't say anything about him.”
“Oh, God.” A sinking feeling began to permeate my very being.
“Don't jump to conclusions,” Ed said, trying to exude some rationality onto the situation. Yeah, good luck with that.
I didn’t mean to, but I practically jumped down his throat. “What other conclusion is there?! What the hell did that fucker do to my parents? We have to go check on him.”
Bill The Vampire (The Tome of Bill Book 1) Page 23