She yanked her hand back from the doorknob and I did the same with mine from her mouth. That last one was for both our benefit. Had Sally swallowed my blood, she would have been reduced to a quivering ball of puke. The plus to me was...well, she wasn’t biting my fucking hand anymore. My God, what a mess things had become and we hadn’t even gotten into the apartment yet.
“What the fuck was that?” Sally hissed as she cradled her still smoking hand.
“My latest excuse to get a shot of penicillin.”
“I meant the door, dickwad.”
“How the hell am I supposed to know? I’m not an expert in apartment security. I’m lucky my place even has a fucking door.”
“It feels like someone was holding a blowtorch to it.”
Remembering the fire safety video they made us watch in sixth grade, I placed my hand against the wood of the door. It was cold, so no fire in her apartment - a good thing overall. I sniffed the air, and it lacked the distinct smell of smoke. So what was happening?
“Do you have any paper?” I asked as a thought hit me.
“Paper?”
“Yes, paper, Sally. Don’t ask why, just give me a piece.”
Her eyebrows narrowed. “A piece?”
“Of paper. Come on, we don’t have time for this shit. Someone is eventually going to notice us loitering out here.”
“Hold on a sec.” She opened her purse and rummaged through it. Finally she said, “Ah, here we go.” She pulled out a crumpled slip and handed it to me.
“What is this, a prescription for skank-off?”
“It’s a parking ticket, genius.”
“You got a ticket?” I started to smirk. Focus was nearly impossible with Sally around.
“It’s not mine. I don’t own a car.”
“Then who...”
“Remember that Durango I borrowed?”
“Never mind, I don’t want to know.” I held out the edge of the paper and pressed it against the doorknob.
“That’s not how you pick a lock.”
“I’m testing a theory.”
After a few seconds I pulled it away and held it up. “It’s not smoldering.” I touched the tip. “It’s not even warm.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Remember that business card, the one from Sheila?” I sure as hell wouldn’t ever forget it. After she had nearly immolated me, it had fallen out of my shirt pocket. Through some bizarre bit of coincidence, although I suspect it somehow wasn’t that at all - fucking fate - the company Sheila had started was named Iconic Efficiencies. Weird isn’t even close to being the word for that.
“Yeah, so?”
“It was intact. My clothes were practically incinerated, yet the card was completely unharmed.”
“I remember. Didn’t you say something about a portion of her power rubbing off on it?”
“I was just taking a stab in the dark at the time, but what if I was right? What if that’s exactly what happened?”
I reached out toward the doorknob. I needed to be fast, being that pain wasn’t something I was overly fond of. I placed the tip of my index finger against the metal and almost immediately felt the temperature begin to rise. I pulled back, but a thin wisp of smoke drifted up from it anyway.
“She can do that?” Sally asked, eyes wide.
“Beats the fuck out of me. I was hoping you’d know.”
“I don’t think anyone knows. Icons were lethal to vampires. I doubt any of us ever got close enough to study them for an extended period of time. If they did, they didn’t live long enough to save it to our archives.”
“Great.”
“So how come the door itself didn’t burn you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a conductive thing...or maybe it has to do with touch. She’d be in physical contact with the doorknob more than the rest of it.”
“Okay, let’s go with that. Then why...”
“Who are you people?” a voice called from down the hall. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
Vampires have excellent senses. Unfortunately, they don’t work all that well when we aren’t paying the fuck attention.
* * *
“Who are you?”
Sally and I locked gazes and her eyes blackened. Oh shit. I shook my head and turned to face our accuser.
An old lady stood in the doorway of another apartment. What she lacked in height she made up for in girth. Her white hair was in curlers and she wore a pink nightgown that more closely resembled a muumuu. Considering the color, she looked like some bizarre anthropomorphic pig. I tried to push that thought from my head. If I started to laugh, her next reaction would probably be to call the cops about the drunken assholes in the hallway.
I needed to make up something before Sally decided to show this lady her own spine. “I’m sorry. I was in the neighborhood and decided to check on my...sister, Sheila.”
“Sister? You’re her brother?” she asked, her tone dubious.
“Yeah. My...wife and I were in the area...” Sally let out a heavy sigh behind me. I gritted my teeth. All she had to do was keep her fucking mouth shut, albeit that was a tall order for her - you could cut out her tongue and she’d still somehow find a way to be snarky.
“A bit late to be visiting,” Sheila’s neighbor pointed out. Outside of her size, she reminded me a lot of Mrs. Caven. She had been my nosy downstairs neighbor...at least until she had been turned into a vampire and subsequently gotten her head blown off. I guess every building has a busybody, but this woman had no idea how close she was to losing the busy part of the equation and just winding up a body.
“Well, maybe we weren’t quite in the area. I was worried. I haven’t heard from my sister in a while. I mean, we usually talk every week. I was up, couldn’t sleep and figured...y’know.”
I was babbling, but hoped to come across as a worried relative rather than an undead monster standing in a hallway making up bad lies at three in the morning.
“I didn’t know she had a brother...” I opened my mouth, but the woman kept talking. “Not that I would have any reason to know. That one mostly keeps to herself. Not the best of neighbors. Here I am, all alone. You’d think she’d come over and offer to help out...”
Oh Jesus Christ. I couldn’t blame Sheila. Had this annoying witch lived in my building, I’d have learned to rappel out the window rather than meet her in the halls.
“Well?”
“Huh?” I had momentarily tuned her out.
“I asked how you got in. She better not have given you a key. That’s against building rules.”
Fortunately, Sally jumped in and saved my hide. “We were let in. Someone was coming out and held the door for us.”
The lady’s eyes narrowed. “Tall fellow, greasy goatee, ratty clothes?”
“That’s the one,” Sally lied. Whereas I sputtered like a twit, she was cool as a cucumber. Telling a few white lies wasn’t exactly an alien concept to her.
The old lady made a sound of disgust. “Damn hippy. I think that one is selling drugs. Coming and going at odd hours and always leaving the door open. I’m reporting him to the super.”
“Probably a good idea,” Sally said. “You never know who’s going to be let in.”
“Tell me about it. People are animals these days. Freaking monsters.”
“You have no idea.”
* * *
Sheila’s neighbor from Hell was still in the middle of lecturing us on the need to be quiet and courteous to others when Sally finally had enough.
I felt the compulsion rattle my bones a split second before I heard it.
“GO BACK TO SLEEP!!”
Sally slumped against me from the effort, her nice, soft parts not going unnoticed, but it had the desired effect. The eyes peering out from the neighbor’s jowly face glazed over. She immediately turned around, walked back into her apartment, and shut the door.
“That was close,” I sighed with relief.
“For her,” Sally
gasped.
I decided to let it slide. Truth be told, I was proud of her. She wasn’t above gutting any humans who got in her way. I was impressed that she both showed restraint and was willing to put in the effort. Typically, compulsion is a sort of psychic command between vampires. Older vampires use it to keep younger vamps in line. It doesn’t work on me, hence the name Freewill, but it’s fairly common to see it done in our ranks. Compulsion also works on humans, albeit not to the same degree. It requires a lot more concentration, and typically the best results come from a powerful vampire to a weak-willed person. Sally wasn’t very old, so the effort cost her. Thankfully, though, the neighbor was apparently susceptible.
“Kind of loud, though,” I said, as my ears (and cortex) continued to ring. “Aren’t you afraid the other...”
“No. Why do you think I worded it like I did? Even if I did wake up the whole floor, they’re going to just turn over and go back to dreamland.”
“You hope.”
“If not...” Her eyes blackened again. The meaning was clear. Anyone else who decided to check on us was going to be in for a very bad start to their day.
Fortunately, we appeared to have gotten lucky. No other curious faces peeked out of their doorways. After a few minutes, it became evident that I wouldn’t have to stop her from turning this place into the set from a Friday the Thirteenth movie.
“So what now? We just wait here in the hallway until she wakes up?”
“Or comes home.”
“Will you stop that!”
“Just being a realist.”
“More like a jealous bitch.”
“Jealous? Of her? She’s not even that good...”
“Can we focus here?” I snapped. Goddamn it. What is it about women that makes them so fucking catty about other women? It’s like they can’t wait to stab each other in the back. If the world were populated entirely by females, I can only imagine the planet embroiled in some Highlander-type game of “There can be only one.”
“Fine. The plan hasn’t changed. We still need to get in, even if just to confirm she’s not there.”
“Why do you...”
“Come on, Bill, she slept through the phone ringing, the doorbell buzzing, us arguing out here like two fucking morons, and then a compulsion...and no, I have no idea if that would even work on the Icon. She’s either not home or she’s in a freaking coma.”
Damn Sally and her logic. Still, she was right. We couldn’t just hang out here until the sun came up.
“How do we do it? Kicking in the door seems overkill.”
“Hold out your arm.”
“Why?”
“Do you want to get in there or not?”
“Fine.” I held out my arm. Sally grabbed the sleeve of my jacket and tore it off.
“What the fuck?”
“Oh please, you don’t look any worse than you already did. Besides, it’s not like I was going to rip mine. Do you know what this thing cost?”
“At least a week’s worth of private lap dances?”
She gave me a sour look and turned back to the door. Wrapping the sleeve around her hand, she grasped the doorknob and gave it the same treatment as she did downstairs. One loud *crack* later and it swung open. Being a vampire means never needing a lock pick, but it’s gotta be hell on the repair bills.
“Be careful,” I said. “If my theory is correct, this whole apartment could be a vampire minefield.”
“I know. Hands to myself.” She took a step and stopped. “Does she own a gun?”
“How the hell should I know?”
“Oh yeah, that’s right. You’ve never been here.” She placed one foot over the threshold. “How’s it feel knowing I got in before you?”
“Bite me.”
“No thanks. I’m just warning you, though, this bitch takes a shot at me and all bets are off.”
“What are you gonna do, try to bite her? Oh yeah, that’ll show her. She might even need to rent a steam cleaner to get you out of the carpet.”
Sally turned to glare at me, but I shooed her forward so we could avoid getting caught breaking and entering should her compulsion fail to hold.
Once in, I shut the door behind us, taking care not to touch the handle with my bare skin.
“She’s not here,” Sally decreed.
I almost asked how she knew, but then caught myself. One of these days I would get used to having superhuman abilities. I took a deep breath through my nose. Sheila’s scent immediately filled my nostrils. Damn, I had almost forgotten how nice she smelled.
I held my breath. What if her powers extended to her lingering scent? I waited a moment. When I didn’t immediately immolate from the inside out, I let out a laugh.
“What’s funny?”
“Nothing, just being stupid.”
“I’m surprised you don’t laugh twenty-four / seven then.”
I ignored her and tried to focus, but it was difficult. Fantasies of Sheila and me running along a beach together ran through my mind as I breathed in her essence. We were in a park having a picnic. We were enjoying a day out in the...I shook my head to clear it. Jesus Christ, that was pathetic even for me. One whiff of her perfume and suddenly I had tampon commercials running through my head. Okay, concentrate, Bill. Save the Summer’s Eve fantasies for another time.
Sheila’s scent was all over the place...duh, it was her apartment. My own place probably smelled like an unholy fusion of Tom, Ed, and myself to an outsider. The more I took it in, though, the more I realized it wasn’t recent. The odors were lingering, not fresh. Sally was right, she wasn’t there. I’m not exactly skilled in this, but I’d say it had probably been several days since she had been...maybe longer.
I looked at Sally, who just shrugged nonchalantly.
“You’re not surprised, are you?” I asked.
“Nope. I figured we had a good chance of finding this place empty.”
“Why?”
“Think about it. What’s the first thing you did after learning you were a vampire?”
“I went home and tried to resume my normal routine.”
“Okay, you’re a bad example. Think of someone whose entire life isn’t centered on being a dork.” Sally walked around the apartment, looking at what was on the shelves. She stared at a few pictures on an end table, presumable photos of Sheila and her...life, I guess. When she started talking again, her tone took on an odd faraway quality.
“She’s had an entire month on her own. That first night, she was probably far more freaked out than you. You only had the surprise of finding out she was the Icon. She, on the other hand, had her entire world turned upside down. One second her life was normal and the next...poof, magic and monsters are real. The thing is, who are you gonna talk to about that sort of stuff? You got lucky, Bill. Your friends are the type that probably jizzed themselves the second you told them what was up.”
She continued talking. For some reason, her tone perhaps, I didn’t want to interrupt.
“Not so with everyone. Most people know that if they tried telling anyone that sort of thing, even their best friend, they’d just look crazy. So what does she do? I’m thinking a normal person either finds a bar or pops open a bottle of hard liquor. Maybe it all even seems like just a nightmare come the morning. She gets back into her routine, probably not even realizing that she’s grabbing onto it like a drowning man with a life preserver.”
“How do you...”
“She tried to move on with her life. It’s amazing how a new day can make the monsters seem so far away. Who knows how long she kept it up, maybe even an entire week - but little by little, it ate into her. I wonder how many times over those first few days her hand hovered over the phone as she debated whether to call you - maybe even hoping that you would reach out first to either tell her it was all real or confirm it was a dream.”
Okay, now I was starting to feel like a real shit.
“Eventually, though, it was too much. Maybe she couldn’t deny it anymore or m
aybe her powers flared again. Hard to say on that last one, though it’s possible. It might have been spontaneous or maybe she just bumped into the wrong person. From there...well, who can say? All we know is that she’s not here now.”
“How do you know so much?”
“Just guessing.”
“Were you?” I prodded.
“Yes,” she replied, a little too harshly. Almost immediately she was back to being her normal self. “And don’t ask me about it again or I’ll cave your skull in.”
I held my hands up in a placating manner. She turned away, then began poking her head into the other rooms of the apartment.
“What are you looking for now?”
“Nothing, just being nosy. She’s not much for interior decorating, is she? I think my grandmother had more style.” She stopped in front of a shelf and pulled out something. “Ooh, I don’t have this CD.”
“Put that back,” I demanded.
“Oh please, Bill. It’s not exactly grand theft.”
“It’s not yours.”
“She doesn’t even listen to it.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Simple. I’m not on fire right now.”
Bitch!
* * *
Sheila’s apartment was a bust. There were no messages on her machine and nothing to indicate where she had gone, assuming she had gone anywhere. Sally had checked her closets and, in between criticizing her wardrobe choices, said everything appeared pretty full. If she had taken anything with her, she had packed light. I haven’t cased too many apartments in my time, but if I had to guess, I’d say it seemed as if one day she left as normal and simply never returned.
I wasn’t sure what that meant. Colin’s team, whoever they might be, hadn’t had time to arrive yet. As for Decker, I doubted it was him. He wasn’t that subtle. If he and his people had found out Sheila was the Icon, they would have taken out a full page ad in the New York Times proclaiming it.
Was it possible she just decided to leave on a whim? Maybe, but my gut was telling me no. There was one other possibility to consider, though. If she truly felt alone - thought that she was either losing her mind or becoming some sort of monster - could she have...
“What’s wrong, Bill?”
Holier Than Thou (The Tome of Bill) Page 9