by Elle Jasper
“What will buying drugs do to help us against the Arcoses?” I asked. “And I think after having his balls yanked into a twist, he knows I don’t rattle easily.”
Luc and Phin chuckled, and Eli glared at me. “It keeps us from getting kicked out. Better to watch who your brother and his friends pick up. Just do it, Riley. And we’ll leave by the front entrance. You don’t want that big Tibetan on your ass.”
“You want access to their supplier,” Phin added. “And to the rooms. It’s apparent that Valerian has your brother and his friends using this place. Not just to gather more kids for his army, but probably to lure victims.” My stomach sank at that last part.
“Did Seth’s friend recognize you?” asked Josie, who’d been quietly watching.
“I don’t think so,” I answered. “He stared at me for a few seconds like I was a pork chop, but that’s it.”
Luc and Phin chuckled; Eli did not. He just stared at me, angry, and I couldn’t understand why he was so pissed off at me.
“Okay, guys, let’s go,” said Josie, and headed up the alley toward the street. She glanced over her shoulder, then stopped and looked directly at me. “Bye, Riley. Don’t worry — we’ll keep an eye on Seth.”
“Peace out,” Luc said, following her, and Phin grinned and hurried up the alleyway. I watched in awe as the Dupré siblings mimicked Seth’s and Riggs’ free-running moves, using every ledge and flat surface to spring effortlessly off of — and at a much faster pace than Seth and the others had. At the rooftop of the building across the street, Josie stopped, turned, and waved, and then the three disappeared into the darkness.
“Come on,” Eli said, his voice angry, edgy. “Let’s get this over with and get out of here. Place makes me sick.” He opened the door and held it for me, and I held his gaze as I walked through. I didn’t look back as I walked to Kelter’s office, and when I got there and turned, Eli had gone. Inside, I found Kelter at his desk, smoking a joint, which smelled just as bad as the corridor.
“That little prick owes me money,” I said, making up something on the spur of the moment to explain why I’d run after Riggs. I leaned a hip against Kelter’s desk. He was pasty white and didn’t seem to really hear what I was saying. Of course he was half lit with liquor and pot, but his tolerance was usually a little higher. “So, what do you got for me?” I said.
He regarded me through a vapor of Mary Jane, but the cockiness from before was gone. He looked genuinely scared, and I felt no pity for him at all. “What do you want, Riley?” he asked. His eyes squinted as he pulled another drag.
“Tonight, nothing. Not after the stunt that kid just pulled. Later? A couple dozen Oxys,” I said, the familiar words feeling dirty against my tongue. “Enough for a party. As long as you’re still in good with your cousin?” Kelter’s cousin was on the SPD, and yeah — a dirty cop.
“Tonight’s a freebie.” Kelter reached into his desk drawer and retrieved a ziplock similar to the one Riggs had taken, only smaller, quart sized, and rolled like a cigarette. He stood and eased around the desk, leaning close to me, and handed me the dope. When I reached for it, he grabbed my arm and held it tightly. I resisted the urge to shove my knuckles into his carotid.
“Room four, babe,” he said, and moved his other hand to my thigh. “That’s our old room, remember? When you’re ready for the seven deadly sins, let me know. You remember the rules, right?” he asked, and slid his fingers along the inside seam of my leather pants. “Or do you need a little reminder?”
Inside I screamed; I wanted to knee his nuts so bad it hurt. But instead I put on a pouty face and nodded. “Yeah. I remember. There are none.”
He laughed. “Good,” he said, and drew another toke from his joint. The scent was making me nauseous, and I wanted out of there. “And here I thought all this time you’d cleaned your ass up and made something of yourself.” He chuckled, and I swear his pale face made him look like a ghost. “Guess I was wrong, huh?” He dropped the bag in my hand. “Once a junkie, always a junkie. See ya round, Riley.”
I didn’t answer him; instead, I shoved the dope in my pocket, pushed away from him, and left his office, slamming the door behind me. It didn’t drown out his laughter. What a nasty freak. I was halfway to the double doors when Eli stepped out of the shadows. Immediately, a protective hand went to my lower back. Within the horseshoe, it was like some seedy club in a movie; two guys were standing close, sharing a joint; another couple was hot and heavy against the wall not two feet away, her laced leather shirt completely undone and his hands all over her breasts. Two girls had staked out a dark alcove near the bathroom, one sprawled across the other’s lap; they faced each other, making out and feeling each other up. The one on top had on a short plaid schoolgirl skirt with her knees pulled up, and her thonged ass was hanging out. Swear to God, people these days had no freaking humility. I wasn’t a prude or anything, but damn. “Get a room,” I muttered, but no way did they hear me, and even if they did, they didn’t care. The pressure of Eli’s hand guided me past all the club lovers and into the main room, where we entered a mob of people dancing. Not once did his palm leave my skin. People bumped and knocked into me as they moved to the music, and each time they did, Eli’s grasp tightened against my flesh. I could feel his entire body pressed against me as we weaved through the crowd, and my body hummed with awareness. I liked it.
Close to the door we ran into Mullet and a tall, leggy girl with a pitch-black bob, straight-across bangs, black pants, and a red tank top with suspenders. Her Goth boots made her an easy two inches taller than Mullet. He made quick introductions; then we left. Mullet had never gotten into the bad stuff, like what went on in the back rooms. He was strictly a partier of music and drink. A really good guy. I sometimes wondered how he remained my friend when I’d been into so much awful stuff.
At the door, Zetty gave me the stink eye; he knew something was up, and although I hadn’t been around him in some time, it didn’t set right with me that he thought I was into Kelter’s shit again. But I couldn’t tell him otherwise. I waved good-bye and felt his all-knowing mystical Tibetan eyes on me until the door closed.
Outside, the heavy, wet air from the recent rain hung thick around us, the salt marsh from the Savannah River throwing off a weighty scent, and I breathed deeply, relieved to be outside. I glanced back at the Panic Room and again wondered how such a nondescript building could contain so much . . . sin. And how easily I had become a part of it, way back when.
“Get on,” Eli said, the anger back in his voice. I looked at him like he’d lost his mind, wondering why he was so mad — especially at me. He said nothing more, so I climbed on and we headed up Martin Luther until we reached Bay.
“Head to Congress Street,” I said over his shoulder. “Molly McPherson’s.”
At the traffic light he stopped and half turned to look at me. He said nothing.
“Because I don’t feel like going home yet,” I said, and I didn’t. Home was where Seth wasn’t, and it was where Eligius Dupré would be, and the walls of my apartment would close in on me. “Please?” I asked, and really didn’t like having to plead. Eli didn’t answer, but he made the right turn, and we parked across the street from Congress and walked to Molly’s.
Inside the atmospheric Scottish pub, I weaved through the small crowd gathered at the long, polished mahogany bar to Martin, the bartender, then grabbed the corner booth by the front window and ordered another whiskey. Eli slid into the booth across from me, his mouth drawn tight, brows pulled together in a pissed-off expression. He didn’t order anything. His light eyes regarded me with such depth, and although he usually observed me in such a manner, tonight was different. There was something different gleaming there, and I wanted to know what it was. I waited, thinking he’d tell me on his own. Too much to expect from a guy, I suppose — even a vampiric one.
The whiskey arrived, the waitress left, and I leaned forward. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked, now feeling angry myself. “It’s
my brother out there. Not yours.” I literally boiled inside, all of a sudden, and since no one else was around who could take the blame, I put it all on Eli. I let it all out. “My whole life is screwed up. One day I’m doing well; my brother is smart, safe, and doing super in school; my business is going great and we’re happy — despite our mother being murdered by a freaking psycho and our loser father a lifer in some penitentiary. Now? I wake up and discover . . . unexplainable things exist, my little brother is fast becoming one of them, I have to drink drugged tea to keep an entire family from making me their main course, and I’m trying hard to understand it all, and do what I can to get things back the way they were. So lose your sucky attitude.” I sat back, glaring, my heart beating fast. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
Eli regarded me for several seconds, then leaned forward. “I am not a thing,” he said, his voice deadly low. “And I didn’t ask to be your fucking babysitter.” He raked furious eyes over me and muttered something in French. “Deal.”
I kept my eyes locked on his as I lifted my whiskey, downed it in one gulp, pulled two bucks from my pocket, and dropped them on the table. “Duties relieved,” I snarled, and headed for the door. I was the last person who needed a freaking babysitter; I’d gone through too much in my young life and handled a lot of problems most never encounter in their entire existence. Screw that. I threw a hand up at Martin when he said, “Take it easy, Riley,” and I pushed out into the City Market nightlife crowd. It was nearly midnight; the tourists had somewhat thinned, but the locals, the SCAD students, still hung around, and would for a few more hours. It wasn’t like I blended into the crowd; I stood out because of more than my choice of clothing. I was tall on top of it, and I knew that if Eli wanted to come after me, he’d have no trouble. Still, leaving returned to me some sort of control; I’d lost it, and dammit, I wanted it back. I didn’t like my every move being tracked. It was . . . suffocating.
As I walked up Congress, moving farther away from Molly’s, the air grew somewhat quieter, and Capote’s familiar music tinged the air; I headed straight for John-son Square and found him among the mossy oaks. When he saw me, he lowered his sax.
“Now, dere’s a sight,” he said, grinning. “How you walk in dem things?” he pointed to my boots.
I walked up and hugged the older Gullah, and he patted my back. “Dere now, baby. You don’t worry about nothin’, you hear? You listen to da Preacher man and do what dem Duprés say.” He chuckled the laugh of a man who’d seen it all. “I known you long enough, Riley Poe, to know you ain’t takin’ fast to havin’ someone tell you what to do, right? But you keep dat temper down.” He looked at me. “You mind dem.”
I gave Capote a smile and a nod. “I’ll do my best.” I inclined my head to his sax. “Don’t stop playing.”
“Ha-ha,” Capote laughed, and gave a nod. “I never do, baby.” He started again, his music soothing and enlightening all at once. So, even old Capote knew about the vampires of Savannah. Somehow, I wasn’t shocked. A slow, light drizzle began again, but I didn’t care. I stood there surrounded by towering live oaks draped in moss, and I watched the long gray clumps sway in the breeze. The streetlamps cast a tawny glow against the slick brick and cobbles, making them seem glassy, and I inhaled a long, deep lungful of sultry August air. It almost calmed me, until I remembered the cicadas. Rather, their absence.
A couple walked up, wrapped in each other’s arms, and stood close by to listen to Capote play. I stood there for a moment longer; then with a wave, I left and started walking up Whitaker toward Bay. I let my thoughts ramble. I was somewhat shocked that Eli had allowed me this much freedom; perhaps he sincerely was sick of babysitting and had gone back to his parents with a refusal to do it any longer. I couldn’t blame him. I’d been a bitch. I’d allowed the situation to overwhelm me, and I’d called him a . . . thing. I of course hadn’t meant the Duprés were things, but at the time, it had sounded that way; maybe I’d allowed it to sound that way, too. Some small, sick part of me wanted to make Eli sting, and I didn’t know why. I thought of Eli as anything but a thing. I found him intriguing, mysterious, and disturbingly unique. The attraction I felt for him seemed real, not just heightened because he was a vampire. Hell — I sometimes had to remind myself he really was a vampire. Other than his exceptional capabilities, and his transformation in my bedroom when Seth had lunged toward me, I’d not witnessed anything overt. He and his siblings and his mother and father certainly weren’t like Hollywood vampires. They seemed like an ordinary, loving family. Yet . . . I felt it. I felt that they were anything but ordinary — that, and much, much more. Precarious circumstances were keeping things settled. I knew that. Just like I knew that one day very soon, I’d see them. Really see them.
Just as I crossed Bryan Street, I heard them. I don’t know how I knew it was Riggs, Seth, and the others, but I did — maybe it was their distinctive, squeaky, adolescent laughter. I searched the darkness, down Bryan Street, and there they were: seven altogether, wearing dark hoodies like some weird fight-club, free-running hoodie cult, surrounding some skinny dude on the sidewalk. He was alone, and the boys were harassing him, crowding the guy against a car parked on the curb. I couldn’t tell which one was Seth; they all looked alike from my vantage point. They weren’t full-fledged vampires yet, still just a bunch of stupid kids experiencing quickening, so I changed directions, ducked into the shadows, and moved toward them. I knew I could take at least three of their skinny little asses out; maybe then they’d run off and leave the guy alone. Junkie or not, I wasn’t going to stand by and watch while they killed him, or lured him. Whichever.
By the time I’d gotten close, the boys had surrounded the guy and were pushing him, laughing, calling him foul names. I could tell right then that the guy was as high as a kite; he just flailed between the boys, and they laughed, and he even laughed with them. It enraged me. He didn’t deserve what they had for him — either transformation by the Arcoses, or ending up as their freaking dinner. Both were unacceptable.
No sooner did I step out of the shadows than I was pushed back into them, and Eli’s body pinned me against the brick wall of an empty historic residence that had a FOR SALE sign in the yard. Damn, he was fast. Freaking fast, silent and strong. I pushed with all my strength and couldn’t budge him a fraction of an inch. I hadn’t even heard him coming. We were front to front, our bodies pressed intimately together. He looked down at me as the brick scored into the bared flesh of my back, and he put his finger to his lips. Shushing me.
He glanced over his shoulder and then lowered his mouth to my ear. “No matter what you see, stay here,” he warned, and when he lifted his head and looked at me, I saw just how much he meant it. I nodded, and just that fast he moved off of me. I barely felt the air shift as he stirred.
In the next breath, Eli stood among the boys and in one lightning-fast move pushed the junkie clear; he landed on the other side of the car with a thud and a moan. Now the boys surrounded Eli, and they became a pack of wild dogs, darting at him, growling; in the middle of two streetlamps, a long shadow fell over Eli, and as I watched, my gut in knots, I saw his transformation. It took all of two seconds, and as I caught glimpses of his horrible face, opaque eyes, unhinged jaw, and jagged fangs, my insides clinched with fear. It was still a hard thing to comprehend. Don’t hurt them! I yelled inside my head. I wanted their asses kicked, not killed. They were just boys, and one of them was Seth. Eli had two by the throat; I couldn’t tell who they were, but their faces were so pale I could see their seemingly luminescent skin almost glowing from where I stood pressed against the brick. Eli dangled them high, their sneakers completely off the ground; then he threw them — threw both of them. They landed in the street, and like strung-out users, they jumped right up, unfazed, and lunged at him again. The others followed. Next, adolescent bodies flew everywhere as Eli tossed them like rag dolls; the boys got right back up and surged toward him. Snarls and curses filled the air as they fought; I don’t know how much control
Eli issued to keep them alive, but he somehow managed. I couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe with two, they wouldn’t make such bold moves.
The moment I stepped out of the shadows and into the street, one of the rabid boys noticed me and lunged. I mean freaking lunged. He was on me in seconds, and I found myself flat on my back in the middle of the street. Beneath the hoodie I stared into a pair of opaque eyes and a pale face; relief washed over me when I saw it wasn’t Seth. It was his other friend, Todd, and I grabbed the boy by his skinny throat and held his gnashing mouth away from me. The sensation of his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down against my palm made me want to shake him off. But the kid was as strong as a friggin’ ox, and it took all of my strength to push him back and shove him off of me. I rolled and crouched, and just as Todd lunged again, I kicked with the flat of my shin and knocked him back. It was almost as if he hadn’t felt it; he rushed me again, and this time I gripped both of my hands together to make one big fist and swung upward as he neared me, then elbowed his solar plexus. Still he came at me and in seconds had me on my back again. As much as I hated it, I fished the dope out of my pocket and dangled the baggie in front of Todd with my free hand; his eyes averted from mine, and he grabbed it. Then a smile pulled at his mouth, and it made my insides ice over. His fist came down on my mouth with blinding speed; I didn’t even have time to deflect it. Warm liquid spilled onto my lip, and the pinpoint pupils in Todd’s white eyes widened as he stared hard at me, at my mouth. At my blood. Damn.
Out of the darkness, the other Duprés emerged and descended upon the boys; it took all of three seconds for the boys to realize they were outweighed. Todd leapt off me, and he and the others took off down the street, laughing, leaping off ledges, and doing crazy, mindless jumps that landed them into handstands; they kept on running, kept moving. I could hardly believe one of them was Seth. Seth wouldn’t believe he was Seth. Phin, Luc, and Josie took off after them in the same manner, until darkness swallowed them all. Only their echoes bounced off the buildings of the historic district.