by Ray Garton
"I think I'll do that," Keoph said. "To tell you the truth, I don't feel all that safe wandering around out there."
"That's wise. Let's take a look at the hotel's plans."
Keoph got the plans and rolled the sheet out on the dining table. They took the two candlesticks from the center of the table and put them on each curled end of the sheet. They studied the plans silently for awhile.
"We could always go in the front door, guns blazing," Davey said.
"That might draw a lot of attention to us," Keoph said.
"Yeah, we don't want that."
After thinking for awhile, Keoph said, "Look, there's a sub-basement connected to the storm drain. Providing we can remove one of those damned manhole covers, we can go down the manhole, go to the hotel's sub-basement, go up through the basement and into the hotel."
"Excellent plan," Davey said. "As for the manhole cover—we'll take a crowbar. Hell, maybe Norman could lift it off."
"I think Norman could lift most things," Keoph said.
"There's no way I'll be able to get down a manhole with that shotgun contraption on me. I'll have to put it on once we're down there."
They both yawned as they rolled the plans up.
Davey called Norman and told him to get his friends together and meet him and Keoph at Mrs. Dupassie's at eight-thirty that evening. From there, they would go to Vicki's and get familiar with their guns.
"I'm going to bed," Davey said after hanging up the phone.
"Yeah, me, too," Keoph said.
"I'll set an alarm and come wake you up."
"Sounds good."
Davey showed Keoph his room. Keoph closed the door, kicked his shoes off, and flopped onto the bed. He was asleep in less than a minute.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
After taking a second shower, Karen put the nightgown back on, limped to the bed, and stretched out.
She couldn't make herself clean enough. She feared she never would.
She was having difficulty with her experience with Anya. She had never been with a woman before and found the idea mildly repulsive. But she had never experienced sex so intense, so completely immersing— Anya had made her feel pleasure she had not known possible. Afterward, though—after Anya had left and Karen had slept for awhile—it bothered her. It made her feel even dirtier. It made her feel something she hadn't felt since she was a child—shame.
There were no clocks anywhere in the room and her watch had been taken from her, so she did not know how much time passed until Anya came back into the room.
"I hope you like Chinese," Anya said. She carried a brown paper bag and put it on the coffee table. From the bag, she removed four cartons of Chinese take-out.
Karen was famished. She'd finished off the caviar and crackers earlier, but that seemed so long ago, and had not been very satisfying. She unwrapped the chopsticks, pulled them apart, and opened the cartons. It all smelled so good, she started eating even before she knew exactly what it was she was putting into her mouth.
"How would you like some music?" Anya said. "You like Norah Jones?"
Karen did not respond—she was too busy eating. She did not look at Anya, did not make eye contact with her. She kept her head down as she ate.
Norah Jones began to sing over the stereo speakers, the volume low.
"I like Norah Jones," Anya said. She sat down on the couch beside Karen, reached over and touched her earlobe.
Karen jerked away, startled.
"You're still afraid of me, Karen," Anya said. "I don't want you to be afraid of me."
"Then leave me alone," Karen whispered after swallowing some food. "Then let me go, if you don't want me to be afraid of you."
"I could do that. But I don't want to. Do you know that your eyes are among the most beautiful I've ever seen? And I've been around a long time, Karen, a very long time. I've seen a lot of eyes. I've watched the life drain from a lot of them. Others, I have just... loved. You're a beautiful woman, Karen. I enjoy giving you pleasure. This evening, we're going to give each other pleasure."
Karen continued to eat.
"I can make you, you know," Anya said. "I can and I will. That's the only reason you're here, Karen. As soon as I saw you, I wanted you. I get what I want. Always. I take it, because I never expect anyone to give it to me. And because I can."
Karen said nothing as she chewed her food.
"You don't believe me?" Anya said.
No response from Karen. She went on eating, until she felt a dull ache in her head. It quickly grew worse and she stopped chewing, closed her eyes, and put a hand to her temple.
"You're getting a nasty headache, aren't you, Karen?"
Karen put down the chopsticks and pressed the fingertips of both hands to her temples as the pain grew worse.
"It feels like someone is stabbing a hot poker through the center of your skull, doesn't it?" Anya said.
The pain became steadily, rapidly worse, until she was pressing both palms to the side of her head, eyes tightly closed. Through clenched teeth, she said, "Please ... stop."
The pain was gone instantly, but not before tears spilled down Karen's cheeks.
"See?" Anya said. "The pain's gone, that quickly. Like I said, I can make you if you refuse. I can make you do anything." She reached over and slowly ran her hand through Karen's hair. "If I wanted, I could give you eternal life. Did you know that? You would never age a day afterward. I could. If I wanted to. But I've learned to be very careful about whom I turn. It'll all depend on how cooperative you are this evening. But you go ahead and eat now. I know you're hungry."
She lightly touched the back of Karen's neck, then came around and stroked her throat with a knuckle. "You have such beautiful skin. You must take good care of yourself. Do you moisturize?"
Karen said nothing. Instead, she fought the urge to shrink away from Anya's touch. She picked up a carton of Peking beef and continued eating.
"You eat until you're full," Anya said. "I have some wine, too, if you'd like."
No response.
"Okay," Anya said. "You eat and I'll be back in a little while."
As soon as Anya left, Karen looked around the small apartment again. No windows, and only one locked door. The room seemed smaller now than it had earlier. She felt claustrophobic. She paid no attention to it and went on eating. She ate until she felt like she would explode. It felt good to be full, sated. She lay back on the couch with a hand on her belly and fell asleep.
She awoke to a kiss from Anya. When she opened her eyes, Anya's face filled her field of vision, smiling.
Anya took Karen's hand and lifted her to a sitting position. "Come with me," she whispered.
Karen got up and allowed Anya to lead her to the bed. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach. She did not want to do what was about to be done.
"Take off the nightgown," Anya said.
Slowly, Karen removed the gown. She trembled, afraid she was about to throw up. Naked, Karen lay on the bed.
Anya began to remove the forest green suit she wore, a suit that made her look like a savvy business woman, a mover and shaker. In that suit, she looked like she should be carrying a briefcase. "We can do this the easy way," Anya said as she undressed, "or I can make you. It's up to you, Karen." Clothes off, Anya got onto the bed with her. "What'll it be."
Karen's lips pressed together so hard, they turned white. She said, "You'll... have to make me."
"All right, then. But it's much more fun when you play along."
Karen said nothing more.
Anya lay down on her back beside Karen.
Karen lay there for awhile and did nothing. Then she felt herself sitting up and rolling toward Anya. Against her will, Karen kissed her. She passed her hand over Anya's ample breasts and slowly moved it down, down, until it was between her thighs. Karen could not fight it. She could not even try to fight it. Her actions were completely out of her control. She tried to make her body go limp, but nothing happened—she continued to kiss
Anya's body and stroke her middle finger up and down between her labia as she grew moist. She felt like a big marionette, as if she were being manipulated by some great puppeteer.
She closed her eyes as she kissed her way slowly down Anya's body, until her mouth touched the strip of hair that went down the center of Anya's trimmed pudenda. She smelled Anya's musky odor. Her eyes remained closed as she buried her face between Anya's legs and tasted her moisture. She slipped her tongue inside Anya, completely against her will. She tried to groan, to make some sound of protest, but she had no voice. She was allowed to lift her head for a breath, but went right back to what she was doing.
Anya squirmed and moaned and clutched at the blankets as Karen licked her, sucked on her clitoris, and finally slipped a finger inside her.
Karen was doing to Anya exactly what Anya had done to her.
She loathed every second of it.
As she made love to Anya unwillingly, she wondered where Keoph was. Was he looking for her? What had become of Davey after Casey's death? It seemed she had been locked away for a long time— weeks, perhaps even months.
Anya cried out as she reached orgasm. She reached down and put both hands on Karen's head and pressed Karen's face hard against herself, grinding against her mouth.
When it was over, Karen found she was once again in control of her own body. She rolled off Anya and gasped for breath, Anya's fluids glistening on her face.
They lay there in silence for a long time, both naked and breathing hard.
Finally, once her breathing calmed down, Anya sat up and got off the bed. She started to put her clothes back on.
"I have work to do," she said. "But I'll be back. I'll spend tomorrow here with you. We can sleep together." She grinned. "And play together."
After Anya left, Karen got up, went to the bathroom, and vomited into the toilet. She took another shower, a long one. Long and hot. She scrubbed her body furiously, but she could not remove the filth.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
As I said before," Vicki said as they went back upstairs from the basement, "nothing makes me happier than the sound of gunfire in my shooting range. I have friends who come over and use it frequently. I'm so glad you gentlemen got some use out of it tonight. Is everyone comfortable with their guns now?" Vicki was in full makeup and wore a dark-blue pantsuit and a pair of black pumps.
They had spent two hours familiarizing themselves with their guns—Keoph, Davey, Norman, and Norman's three friends, Darin and Steve and Neil.
"I think it helped a lot, Vicki, thank you," Davey said.
Keoph was impressed with Norman's three friends. They were not as big as Norman, but they were quite sizeable with what appeared to be muscles on muscles. Unlike Norman, their bellies were flat, and their tight T-shirts displayed their six-pack abs. But Norman, who had been very quiet all evening, towered above them and looked more menacing.
Darin was of average height with buzz-cut blond hair; Steve was shorter and had completely shaved his head; Neil was tallest of the three and heavily tattooed, with long black hair in a ponytail, and large intense eyes. They all looked young, no older than their early twenties.
Vicki had instructed them on the use of the HK MP5 submachine guns, and had set off another couple of the XM84 stun grenades so they would know what to expect when they used them.
"Could I interest you gentlemen in a drink?" Vicki said as they headed down a hall to the front of the house.
"I could sure use one," Keoph said.
Vicki took them into the den, where there was a full bar. "What's your poison, Gavin?" he said.
"Scotch, please. Neat."
"One scotch coming up," Vicki said as he went behind the bar. "Anyone else?"
"Nothing for me," Davey said.
Norman and his friends just shook their heads. They'd hardly said a word all evening. Keoph had noticed their failed attempts not to stare at Vicki when he wasn't looking.
A lovely blond woman in a long robe came in with a wineglass in hand.
"Gentlemen," Vicki said, "this is my wife Lynn." He introduced all of them to her and Keoph and Davey said hello.
"I came for a little more wine," Lynn said with a smile.
"Allow me," Vicki said. There was a half-full bottle of red wine on the bar. Vicki uncorked it and poured some into Lynn's glass.
"I'll leave you boys and go back to the old movie I'm watching," she said, then left the den.
"She's great," Vicki said after she left. With a laugh, he added, "We do all our clothes shopping together."
Vicki poured Keoph's drink and handed it to him. "I'm not asking, so don't think I'm being nosy, but I'd sure love to know what you boys are up to with these guns and grenades. Am I going to read about you in the paper?"
Davey smiled and said, "We're hunting vampires."
Vicki tilted his head back and laughed. "All right, I get it, no more questions." He poured himself some wine and lifted his glass. "To good luck in whatever you're doing," he said.
Keoph raised his glass and nodded before taking a sip.
They were going to need all the luck they could get.
In the car, as Davey drove them away from Vicki's house, he said to Keoph, "I thought you wanted to get out of there fast."
Keoph shrugged. "I really needed that drink. Firing those guns suddenly made it... I don't know... real. Know what I mean?"
"Oh, yeah."
Keoph turned in his seat and looked at the four muscular boys cramped together in back. "You guys know the schedule, now?" he said.
They all nodded.
"We meet at Mrs. Dupassie's tomorrow at eleven," Keoph said. "From there, we go to the hotel. Davey and I are going to go over there tonight and look for manholes. We'll try to find one that's nearby but not too out in the open because we'll be climbing down there in broad daylight with guns and grenades, so we can't afford to be seen."
"What if we are seen?" Norman said.
Keoph looked at Davey. "That's a good question."
Davey said, "We just have to look like we've got every right in the world to do what we're doing, and we've got to do it fast."
"Maybe we should put the guns in something," Keoph said.
"That's not a bad idea."
They dropped Norman and his friends off outside Norman's house in Sherman Oaks. Then Davey drove to a nearby all-night Walgreens drugstore. He and Keoph went into the store and found some grey canvas satchels with shoulder straps. Each was just big enough to carry one of the guns, extra magazines, and a couple grenades. Davey's shotgun wouldn't quite fit in the satchel, so he would have to be as inconspicuous as he could on the way from the car to the manhole. Davey bought five of the satchels, and a simple black cloth purse with a long shoulder strap.
Back in the car, Keoph said, "What's the purse for?"
"Something for me to carry more cartridges in."
"Mrs. Dupassie says Karen's not on the first floor, so as soon as we get in there, we should go upstairs."
"The elevator goes down to the basement," Davey said. "We can use that."
Keoph's neck and shoulders were tight and achy. There was tension in his voice—in Davey's, too.
We're really going to do this, Keoph thought. He felt a tingle move down his back. Davey and Norman and Norman's friends had an advantage—they were vampires. Keoph was far more vulnerable than they.
Davey drove them to North Hollywood, to the Royal Arms Hotel. He drove by slowly.
The hotel was on the corner of Newton and a narrow side street called Halley. On the opposite corner was a strip mall with only one store, a nail salon—the other windows had for lease signs in them. Davey pulled into a gas station down the street and turned around, went back by the hotel, and turned down Halley. Behind the strip mall was a deserted lot, and beyond that, an apartment complex. Davey made a U-turn in front of the apartments, went back up Halley, pulled into the strip mall, and parked.
"Come on," Davey said. "Let's see if we can find any man
holes."
They got out of the Mercedes and walked away from the strip mall to Halley.
"There," Keoph said when he spotted one in the glow of a streetlight.
Davey went back to the Mercedes and opened the trunk. He came back with a crowbar and they went to the manhole. Davey shone his light on the cover.
There was a hole near the edge of the manhole cover. Davey wedged the end of the crowbar in the hole and lifted. It was heavy, but the cover came up. He let it drop again, and said, "Come on."
Davey put the crowbar behind his seat as he got into the car.
As Davey pulled out of the strip mall parking lot, Keoph said, "It worked."
"Yep, that's all I wanted to know. Now, I suggest we go back to my place and you get a good night's sleep," Davey said. "If you can't get to sleep, I've got some sleeping pills in the medicine cabinet, I think. You need to rest up and be ready for tomorrow. I'll go to bed early in the morning and sleep awhile before we go. They'll be sluggish in the middle of the day—the only problem is, so will we. Our advantages will be surprise and those guns. Since all the victims are probably locked up, I think it'll be safe to shoot anything that moves, and keep shooting until it goes down and stays down." He looked at Keoph a couple times and said, "You ever shoot anybody before?"
"Once," Keoph said. "Early in my career. This woman hired me to find her husband, who had disappeared a week or so earlier. She knew he'd run out on her, but she wanted me to find him so she could get a divorce and hit him up for child support. I traced him to Las Vegas. He caught me following him and didn't like it. He took a shot at me. I took a shot at him. He missed, but I caught him in the thigh."
"What happened to the guy?"
"His gun was stolen. He was arrested in the hospital emergency room. I'm assuming his wife got what she wanted, but I didn't stick around to find out. It was just my job to track him down, which I'd done. Of course, I ended up going to court as a witness. It was a big hassle."