Falling Dark

by Christine Pope

  My gaze fell on my purse, which I’d set down on the dining room table. God, I wanted to pull out my phone and call him, which was just ridiculous. He hadn’t even been gone ten minutes. All I’d succeed in doing was show him what a needy twit I was.

  But maybe I could text Candace. If she wasn’t doing anything — and I sort of doubted she was, except working when she should be trying to relax — maybe I could convince her to come over so we could eat takeout and watch some silly girly movie. Or better yet, some kind of courtroom drama or police procedural, so I could listen to her talk about everything the screenwriters had done wrong and we could laugh at it together.

  That sounded like a great way to pass the time. It would be one evening down, and then Silas might be back two days later. And if not, at least I’d only have one more night to get through after that. Three nights was nothing, right?

  I picked up the phone and sent the text.

  My hopes were dashed, though, when she responded a few minutes later.

  Sorry, hon. I’m up to my eyeballs in briefs, and if I get to bed before midnight, it’ll be a miracle. Rain check?

  Sure, I typed back. I totally understand. Maybe next time.

  Absolutely. If we can get the other side to settle this coming week, then I’ll have a life again. Keep in touch.

  Will do.

  Damn. But there wasn’t much I could do about it. I might be selfish, but I wasn’t selfish enough to ask Candace to get behind in her work just so she could come over and hold my hand.

  My phone rang, and I startled, because I was still holding it. I looked down at the screen, but I didn’t recognize the number. Definitely not Candace calling back, or Silas reaching out to see if I was all right.

  Usually, I let calls like that roll over to voicemail. If I didn’t know who you were, then I wasn’t about to pick up. For some reason, though, I pressed the “accept” button. Maybe it was just that the call had caught me off guard, coming so soon after my text exchange with Candace.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Serena Quinn?”

  At least I was in enough possession of my wits to counter that question with, “Who’s calling?”

  “Ms. Quinn, I’m Lora Stiles, from the Washington Post. I was hoping you could give a comment on your brother formally announcing his candidacy?”

  Damn it. I was tempted to hang up right then and there, but I knew that kind of reaction wouldn’t play well in the article this Lora Stiles was planning to write. I supposed I should be glad that I’d gotten a call, rather than having a reporter ambush me as I was going to check my mailbox or something. But how had she gotten my number?

  I told myself not to be too surprised; everything could be bought and sold these days.

  “Well, Jackson let the family know that he planned to make the announcement in the very near future,” I lied. “So it wasn’t a surprise. But of course we’re all very happy that he’s decided to run for President. We think he can do a lot of good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s someone at the door.”

  Before the reporter could even interject, I pressed the red button to end the call, and then touched the tiny switch on the side of the phone to mute the sound. That way, Lora Stiles could call back as many times as she liked, but I wouldn’t have to listen to the phone ring until it flipped over to voicemail. I didn’t want to turn it off all the way, just in case Silas called me from the airport or something. He hadn’t told me which flight he was taking, but I knew he would be catching the earliest one that was available. And it was LAX; I hadn’t been to France since high school, but even ten years ago, flights from Los Angeles to Paris had been fairly frequent.

  My phone vibrated. I looked at the number, and saw it was the reporter’s. Persistent, but I supposed that was her job. Still, she wouldn’t get any satisfaction out of me.

  I dropped the phone back inside my purse, then went upstairs to change into some fresh clothes. And maybe another shower, just a quick one to give me a sort of reset. That sounded like a good idea.

  That short shower turned into a long one, followed by more than a half hour of blow-drying my hair and putting on some makeup. Why I was wasting my time, I wasn’t sure. Silas was gone, and I certainly didn’t expect any other company. But it was something to do, something to use up a spare hour. By the time I was walking down the stairs, thinking maybe I should make myself a snack, the day had already begun to grow darker. Not sunset yet, but it felt gloomy enough, since the clouds from earlier hadn’t dissipated, although the rain had stopped.

  I was headed to the kitchen to get some water when the doorbell rang. Great. Were reporters now going to start camping out on my doorstep? True, Lora Stiles’ area code indicated that she’d been calling me from the East Coast, but that didn’t mean some of the local journalists hadn’t decided to begin stalking me in person. A hell of a time for Silas to abandon me, although I knew I was still protected, that the other gula, Emanuel, was on guard duty now.

  When I looked through the peephole, I saw my neighbor Brian standing outside. I relaxed slightly when I saw his face; no doubt he’d noticed me missing, and had come over now that I was home so he could make sure everything was okay. True, he could have texted me, except that he hated texting. He liked to talk in person.

  So I turned off the alarm, then opened the door. “Hey, Brian. Come on in.”

  “I just wanted to check on you — you didn’t come home last night, but then I thought I heard you come in a few minutes ago.”

  “I was out,” I said, and he blinked, then lifted an eyebrow.

  “Out? The agoraphobe went out?”

  “I do leave my house sometimes, you know.”

  “Not all night.”

  I couldn’t really argue with that statement. However, I also wasn’t in the mood to kiss and tell, especially with Brian. If Candace had come over the way I’d hoped, I might have confessed something of what had happened between Silas and me the night before, even while making sure I didn’t relate any of the more supernatural aspects of the evening. As much as I wished I could discuss what had happened with my best friend, I knew that was impossible. No matter what happened, I had to keep Silas’ true nature a secret. Since I could tell Brian was waiting for some kind of explanation, I said, “I crashed at Candace’s. We went to the movies, and it got late.”

  A strange glint entered his blue eyes. His lip curled, and he said, “Come, come, Serena. I saw you leave with that Sam person. I know you weren’t with Candace.”

  Something off about Brian’s expression…and his words…sent little flickers of doubt through me. Not that he wouldn’t press me for info about a “hot date” — Brian loved to gossip. But his responses somehow didn’t feel quite right, even though I couldn’t put my finger on exactly why.

  “Okay, I went out with Sam. I stayed at his place. End of story. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  A satisfied nod, as if Brian was pleased with himself for getting me to confess the truth. “Did he tell you who he really is? What he is?”

  I stared at my neighbor, alarm bells pinging in my head. There was no way in the world Brian could have known anything about Silas, about the secrets he kept, unless….

  The condo’s temperature was comfortable enough, but right then I went so cold, I might as well have been standing in a meat locker. “No.”

  “Oh, yes,” Brian said. He wore a loose-fitting chambray shirt, untucked, which I knew his partner Lewis hated but was Brian’s standard attire when he was working. The shirt had large chest pockets, pockets that always had a variety of pens and pencils tucked into them. They were just as full today, only I realized, as I began to back away from him, that one of those “pens” wasn’t a pen at all.

  It was a hypodermic needle.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Somehow I managed to stammer, “W-what are you doing, Brian?”

  “I don’t want to use this on you,” he said, his tone reasonable, although that weird glint was back
in his eyes, a glint that told me this really wasn’t Brian standing in front of me. I didn’t know when it had happened, or how, but my neighbor was now a semivive. And I’d invited him in because I had no reason to suspect he was anyone — or anything — more than the man I’d known for the past three years. “I’ve heard you’ll wake up with a hell of a headache.”

  “Then don’t use it.”

  “I won’t, if you cooperate. Mr. Montfort wants to talk to you. You just have to come along with me.”

  “Come with you where?” I asked, desperately trying to stall for time.

  “Does that really matter? He wants to talk to you…and he wants to show you something.”

  I didn’t know which option sounded more ominous. For a desperate moment, I wondered if I should try to fling a chair at Brian, do something so I could make a break for it. After all, he wasn’t the world’s most impressive physical specimen. Yes, he was taller than I, and bigger, but he spent most of his days in a desk chair and had a slight paunch — something I knew Lewis nagged him about on occasion, telling him he should use the exercise room at our condo complex. It wasn’t as if I’d be taking on one of Montfort’s fellow vampires, all of whom looked like perfectly toned specimens of humanity, despite not being human at all.

  But then I remembered how unnaturally strong that first stringy-looking semivive had been. That guy had appeared as if I could have broken him over my knee, and yet he’d been able to fight back against Silas for a good moment or two before eventually being overpowered. I had no reason to believe I’d get very far if I tried to take on Brian, no matter how sedentary he’d been when he was still human.

  I crossed my arms. “Maybe I don’t feel like talking to Lucius Montfort.”

  Brian laughed. Or rather, his mouth opened, and a sound that should have been a laugh came out, but it was completely false, a counterfeit of laughter made by a creature that no longer understood what humor was supposed to be. The sound made me go even colder than I already was.

  “Serena, you need to understand that what you want or feel doesn’t matter right now. You will come with me…one way or another.”

  “Okay,” I said at last. “Let me get my purse.”

  “You won’t need it. Come along.”

  Of course he wouldn’t want me to bring my purse. It contained my cell phone, which could be dangerous. The handbag also held a few items that would be completely useless when it came to trying to get away, like my lipstick and sunglasses, but my purse was my security blanket. It would feel so much worse to walk out of here without it, almost like going out barefoot.

  However, I knew arguing wouldn’t do me any good. “Can I at least get my sunglasses?”

  He considered that request for a moment, even as he directed a sideways glance at the window and the gray gloom of late afternoon outside. There wasn’t much day left, and he probably thought my request a foolish one. Still, he only lifted his shoulders slightly and replied, “I suppose so.”

  My hope was that I’d be able to get out some kind of text under the pretense of fumbling in my purse for the sunglasses. Unfortunately, Brian — no, he wasn’t Brian anymore — not-Brian followed me into the dining room and watched me through narrow eyes as my fingers closed on the soft leather case that held my glasses. There was no way in hell I’d be able to get any kind of a message out, especially since the phone would have already locked itself down, and I would have had to enter the security code before I did anything else.

  So I didn’t even bother, but got out my sunglasses, then asked, “What about my house keys?”

  “I’ll take care of that. Give them to me.”

  Not so much as a by-your-leave, but then, I’d already sort of realized that the semivives were a little short on social niceties. With shaking fingers, I got the keys from the inner pocket of my purse where they resided, then handed them to not-Brian.

  He took them from me. “All right. No more stalling. We’re leaving.”

  Crap. Crappity crap crap. Right then I really wished I hadn’t lived such a solitary existence. If only I’d made friends with more people in the building. Maybe that way I’d have a better chance of someone dropping by unexpectedly. Problem was, even if I had been more social, anyone coming by the condo really wouldn’t have seen anything out of the ordinary. Just Brian over for a visit, which happened several times a week. Anyway, the last thing I would have wanted was to put anyone in danger, just to try to save me.

  No, it really looked as if there wasn’t much I could do.

  Don’t lose hope, I told myself as I went to the door, and waited in the hall while Brian locked up the condo. He didn’t mention the security system, and I didn’t ask. I wasn’t sure what good it would do me to have the alarm on, but maybe if someone broke in and the security company was forced to answer, that would get the police on my trail.

  Unless the would-be robbers stole my purse. It was kind of a target, sitting exposed on the dining room table like that. No, they wouldn’t take the purse, just the cash and credit cards it contained.

  And I realized that my thoughts were babbling away because I was scared shitless and didn’t know what I was supposed to do. A superhero I most definitely was not.

  Or even an ordinary hero, come to think of it.

  As we headed down to the garage level, I found myself glancing around at my surroundings without trying to appear as if I was looking around. Silas had said he’d left Emanuel to watch over me, but I didn’t see any evidence of such observation. Surely this Emanuel should have known I wouldn’t be leaving my condo except under duress, not when I’d just told Silas that I knew I needed to stay put until he got back from France. And my substitute guardian should have also known that I didn’t go places with Brian. We visited each other’s condos and chatted there, but the only people I ever went out with were either Candace or someone from my own family.

  But no one swooped in to save me, or to intervene as Brian pressed the remote for the garage door opener, and signaled that I needed to enter and climb into his older but meticulously maintained Audi A4. Mouth dry, I fastened the seatbelt, then waited as he got in and turned the key in the ignition.

  Maybe I should have tried to elbow him in the throat as he was backing out of the garage, but I didn’t know if I’d be able to grab the wheel before we crashed into the bank of garages directly behind us. Instead, I sat mute and unmoving in the passenger seat, watching as he pulled out onto Cordova, then headed over to Arroyo Parkway.

  To my surprise, however, he went south, where the parkway would eventually turn into the 110 Freeway. I’d assumed he would be taking me to Lucius Montfort’s mansion in San Rafael, which meant we should have gone north and west.

  If that mansion even was in San Rafael. The topography I’d seen in my vision had seemed to indicate that much, but I didn’t know for sure.

  There was so much I didn’t know.

  Still, I didn’t want to telegraph my uncertainty to not-Brian. “Aren’t we going the wrong way if you’re taking me to Lucius’ house in San Rafael?”

  That question earned me a sharp sideways look before he returned his attention to the narrow, winding highway in front of us. “How did you know where it was?”

  Ah. So the vision had been right. Well, that was something, although I didn’t know for sure what I would be able to do with that information. “I have visions. Or didn’t your master tell you about that?”

  A faint scowl etched itself on the semivive’s features. “He told me. We just didn’t know that you’d had visions of his house.”

  “I see a lot of things,” I said, my tone somewhat snotty. Too bad I didn’t see this one coming….

  Apparently the same thought had crossed not-Brian’s mind, because the frown disappeared, replaced by a small, mocking smile. I hated seeing such unpleasant expressions on my neighbor’s familiar features, because they only served to reinforce the realization that he wasn’t himself anymore, that something else had taken control of him.
>
  We cut through downtown, the lights in the high-rises beginning to appear through the approaching dusk, and I experienced a pang as I thought of the night I’d spent with Silas, of how happy I’d been to wake up in his arms. And that had been only a few hours ago. I couldn’t believe this was the same day. If only I could somehow hit rewind on the events of this afternoon, go back and tell him that he couldn’t leave me alone.

  Only he hadn’t thought he was leaving me alone. He’d thought there would be someone in place to make sure this sort of thing didn’t happen.

  Except it was happening.

  Since it was now early on a Sunday evening, the traffic wasn’t as hideous as it normally might have been. Too bad, because if we’d been sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic, I might have had the opportunity to open the door and escape that way. I would have gladly taken the risk of dodging traffic if it meant getting out of that car. Unfortunately, you didn’t really have that option when cruising along at sixty-five miles per hour.

  We headed west on the 10 Freeway. I wondered just where the hell not-Brian was taking me. Maybe Lucius Montfort had safe houses all over the greater L.A. area, and the mansion in San Rafael was only his main base of operations. I just didn’t know.

  However, when we got off the freeway at La Cienega and began heading north, that creeping sensation of cold returned. I couldn’t say I knew these neighborhoods like the back of my hand, especially as darkness fell and day slipped into evening, but I knew enough to recognize this route as the one I would take to get to my sister’s house and studio.

  Sure enough, not-Brian jogged over onto Melrose, then turned down the side street where Vanessa’s home was located. I saw her black BMW SUV in the long driveway, with a dark gray Mercedes S-class with tinted windows parked next to it. I didn’t recognize the Mercedes, but I had a feeling that it belonged to Lucius. All the windows in the house were dark, and the fixture next to the front door was off as well. I could see the edge of the driveway because the solar lights that bordered it had just begun to flicker on, but overall the place had an empty, abandoned feel, despite the cars sitting in the driveway.