by Ian Hall
Mandy jumped up excitedly. Those tits again, man. “He tried to warn us off because we’re getting close!”
I just nodded my head. “And that’s the reason why we’re going back to Harris. I’ll get Reynolds.”
The doorbell went, and Mandy looked out the window. “FedEx. That’ll be my blood!” and she vanished. I could just see the poor delivery guy’s eyes as she opened the door, those tits still swaying.
Honestly - I felt grateful for any reason to get out of there. My heart lay in Harris. So, whatever the eff my tongue had been doing in Lyman’s mouth - I had no freaking clue. One minute, I sat there - okay…I straddled him…and the next all I could think was “kiss him.” Then I did it. The urge proved far too compelling; I couldn’t stop myself.
I just hoped he wouldn’t have some pressing, urgent need to talk about it. But, if I knew Lyman Bracks…leaving it alone wouldn’t be an option.
I let him and Mary-Christine have their space for a couple hours. The ten pints of fresh human blood were more than enough to distract me anyway. Those mice were more like taking a diet pill than having a meal; they could pacify my gut but my mind still felt hungry. I took two full bags for breakfast, draining each to the last red pearl.
I also thought hard on the matter of the two sharp little nubs, barely visible through my gums. I supposed vampires were like sharks; rip out one tooth and another drops down in its place. Before too long, I’d have back everything that Helsing doctor took from me. Even if I never got my chance to squeeze the lights out of her whorish eyes, I had the satisfaction of knowing Miranda was only mortal; someday she’d rot beneath ground. But, I’d go on forever. Intact.
“So, suck it, bitch.”
“Um…okay…where would you like to be sucked?” Lyman asked.
I’d been checking out my new teeth in the reflection of a teaspoon. Apparently, I’d been a little too caught up in the activity. It’s not an easy thing to sneak up on a vampire; but, somehow Lyman managed.
“Where’s Mary-Christine?”
“She’s gone home to talk her mother into letting her join the expedition to Harris.”
Not sure why that pissed me off so bad, but I found myself banging the spoon down on the counter like a temperamental child.
“Wonderful. She’s soooo much fun to have around.”
Surprisingly, he chuckled. “Mary-Christine has her moments.”
I grinned sarcastically. “Too bad I keep missing them.”
Shuffling up like some cocky cowboy, Lyman came to stand up close to me. He positioned himself at my back, arms coming around to either side. His mouth drew up to my ear; each word he spoke tingling my neck.
“I’m more interested in our little moment,” he whispered.
Pressed up against me, I could feel and hear Lyman’s beating heart; fast as a freaking jack rabbit. Suddenly I felt nervous, like taking an exam I hadn’t studied for. Do I turn around and fling him to the ground? Stand still and just let him make his move? Elbow him in the gut and run away?
As the seconds wore on it became clear that Lyman felt no more prepared for this test than me. He drifted back slowly, coming to lean against the sink. His expression, cold and unreadable as I turned around; disappointment or relief? I couldn’t tell.
“I guess we’ve got a lot to talk about…” I said, disbelieving that statement actually came from me instead of him.
But, Lyman went for the easy out. “We need to get those documents FedEx’d to Howard Weeks right away.”
I felt a little like I’d just gotten off a carousel; I think I physically shook my head just to get my bearings.
“Wait. You mean the sketches and journal? I don’t want to just ship them off to the Helsings! We need those for ourselves!”
Lyman sounded a bit flippant, “Really? How many languages do you speak, Mandy? ‘Cause we’re gonna need a whole linguistics bank to decipher the writing.”
He didn’t give me a chance to respond. Like a man on a mission, Lyman stalked down to the safe room, leaving me to trail behind.
“Howard Weeks will have resources - people who can interpret the journal, maybe even figure out if these symbols on the cover mean anything. We’ve got to learn to trust the team we signed up with, Mandy.”
“Would that be the same team that did this,” I opened my mouth up, “to me?”
Lyman waved me off like the torture the Helsings put me through was yesterday’s news. “Also the same team that’s been supplying you with a steady stock of blood and me with my meds. So, I think they’ve proven their loyalty to us.”
I felt intensely stubborn. And yet oddly rejected. So, I crossed my arms obstinately and stomped my foot.
“I’m not just giving them up, Lyman!”
He rolled his eyes. “Relax. We’ll scan everything before we send it, so we’ll have our own copies. Agreed?”
As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t really find a problem with that. So, I nodded curtly. His glare softened to a look of appreciation.
“You are one stubborn vampire, Mandy.”
Next thing I knew, Lyman came at me again. This time he didn’t wait to see how I would respond. He pushed me up against the wall, fingers in my hair, mouth probing mine. I could feel his excitement as my own started to rise.
Holy shit. Was this really happening?
Enemies Close, Friends Closer
I don’t know why I kissed Mandy again; I’m not sure I ever will.
But I know why I stopped.
The clinch with Mandy in the bedroom only had one place to go, and it felt the same in the safe room. If I didn’t push myself away, there was only one destination for this runaway train; I would lose my virginity to Mandy, and I wasn’t sure if I felt ready.
Mandy is a beautiful girl, and her breathless look against that wall proved difficult to leave, but it didn’t feel right. It didn’t seem to be either the right place, the right time, or the right girl; and for my first time, I wanted all three.
She released a deep breath. “What was that all about?”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure.” I turned away and began to set up the scanner. Only busywork would ease my boner, and that meant keeping my hands and my thoughts from Mandy Cross.
Boy did I work. Silently Mandy passed each page to me, then replaced it after I’d scanned it. I dumped the data onto the hard drive, emailed it to Mandy and myself, then booted it into a flash drive. On an afterthought, I then emailed the complete file to Doctor Wang at Chicago’s V-Study.
“Happy?” I asked my strangely mute assistant.
She nodded.
I know I’d crossed some form of romantic Rubicon, and I wasn’t sure of exactly what to do, so I walked away. The little angel on my shoulder patted me on the back, telling me I’d done the right thing; Mandy was a bit of a tart, and she’d been with more men that I’d had hot dinners, and if we’d gone all the way, it would have complicated our little nest totally.
Of course, the little red devil on the other side called me a fucking idiot; in truth Mandy Cross is one of the hottest girls I’d ever seen, and boy, what fun I’d just thrown away. As I mulled over my decision, it proved difficult not to manufacture the porn movie in my head. I needed a diversion, and suddenly my phone rang, providing it.
“Mary-Christine?”
“Can you come over, Lyman? Mom wants to see you.”
“Sure.” I said, as I walked briskly back to the cellar. “Coming right now.”
Mandy was staring at the computer screen. “I’m off to see Roni Muscat. Can you get Reynolds to sweep the area, check if Alan’s still watching us?”
“Sure.” Her fingers deftly dance over the keyboard. I’d never noticed how fast she could type before. In my mind, my hand slid up the inside of her smooth thigh.
Forbidden ground.
Mandy looked at me as if she expected an answer. “The language?”
I shook my head. “What?”
“Are you here today?” she said, traces of
irritation in her tone. “I said, I think the language is some kind of Romanian, but it’s not quite right.”
“Wow,” I said, surprised. It appeared too gobbledygook to me, but she seemed to be making headway. I walked back upstairs, trying hard to knock those characters off my shoulders. Especially the little red one.
Roni Muscat was not the same confident woman that I’d met several months ago. She appeared quiet, reserved, and distinctly nervous. “I’m sorry, Lyman. I really am. Dave went too far, and he’s being punished for it.”
“We’re all after the same thing, Roni.”
“I know, it’s just, working with a vampire. It takes a bit of getting used to.”
Mary-Christine rubbed her mother’s shoulder. “Mandy’s fine mom, she’s a huge help to us.”
Oh boy. I couldn’t shake the notion of how she’d helped me getting two boners in one morning. “She’s working on the new language right now. She thinks it’s some form of Romanian.”
Well, we left Roni’s house with permission to be away for the weekend, and a promise to watch our backs. Mary-Christine’s mom seemed better for my visit, and we were back at my house in less than an hour. Reynolds’s car slid into the driveway as we arrived.
“Big black Buick,” he said as he opened his door. “Sitting on the main road, just there.” He pointed west. “They took off before I could do anything, right onto the highway, and headed east. Too fast for me to follow.”
“At least they’re gone,” Mary-Christine said.
“Descriptions?”
“Both male, one totally bald, kinda freaky. The other one? Alan McCartney. I recognized him from the photos you have.”
So we set off towards Harris in two cars, Mary-Christine with me. She acted so attentive to me, that I even stopped feeling guilty.
Mandy and Reynolds took the package to the FedEx depot in Flagstaff, the plan was to meet by the Harris Conoco gas station.
Waiting on Reynolds and Mandy, we cruised the streets looking for the black Buick. I was just nearing the outskirts when the phone rang. Mandy. “We’re following the car.”
“Where?”
“Heading out of town to the north. Same road we met the Mize twins on.”
“What is it with that road?” I turned our car round and headed north.
Five minutes later, I saw Reynolds’s car by the side of the road. When we stopped behind him, he got out holding his hands up in frustration. “Mandy’s gone after them.”
“What?” I walked up to him.
“She said that we’d be seen tailing them, and she’s right. The road’s way too dusty.”
“She’s got her cell phone, right?”
“Oh, yeah. I made sure of that. And she’s armed to the teeth too.”
I shook my head. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
One minute Lyman’s got me pinned up against a wall, the next he’s taking off with Mary-Christine. Just as well. I had bigger fish to fry; namely Alan. First I had to reel the son-of-a-bitch in; and I’d take great pleasure in scraping off his scales.
Reynolds drove, each of us politely ignoring the other. The trip started out as a simple enough detour: drop the package off to be delivered. I didn’t suspect we’d actually catch up to Alan Freaking McCartney.
I kept my eyes well up the highway, watching his Buick drift lane to lane as if on a lazy Sunday drive. I cracked my window, letting his scent blow back at me. My mouth dripped with anticipation for the taste of his blood.
“Puppy’s thirsty?”
I turned to Reynolds. Just as he’d been throughout the trip, his eyes were forward and his mouth on mute. I even went through the trouble of craning my neck to check behind me. The backseat was empty - just as I knew it would be.
“How’d you like snogging that little geek?”
If it weren’t for my seatbelt I’d probably have launched straight through the windshield.
“Tell me, Mandy, did Lyman even know what to do with it once he got it up?”
WTF?
I pulled down the visor and flipped open the mirror. My eyes looked back at me, startled and confused. It wasn’t that crazy reflection of mine this time.
Chuckling. Loud and vicious. Coming from everywhere.
“Do you hear that?” I asked Reynolds?
He leaned his ear closer to the steering wheel. “I don’t hear anything. What is it?”
“No. Not the car,” I replied stupidly. “You don’t hear…laughing?”
I thought he might pull the car over right then and there. Instead, Reynolds just gave me a severe stare - taking his eyes off the road for a dangerously long time, I might add.
“It’s happening again, isn’t it?”
His tone demanded an answer and left no room for defiance. I went for denial instead.
“Just my head playing tricks on me.”
My taunter tsk’ed at me, “C’mon, baby. Don’t you recognize my voice?”
Holy shit. I couldn’t be…
I turned to Reynolds, he had been staying back from the flow of traffic - and tried to keep my voice from betraying desperation. “Can you get a little closer?”
“Not without running the risk of being seen.”
“Doesn’t matter; I’m pretty sure Alan knows exactly where we are.”
“What’re you talking about, kid?”
I pleaded with him, “For once - please just take my word…”
Reynolds drifted over to the fast lane, passing two vehicles, then slid back in line on the right. Still not close enough. I caught the tail of the Buick heading off the ramp, toward Harris.
“That’s him! Don’t lose ‘em!”
“Relax, Mandy,” Reynolds said smoothly, “this ain’t my first rodeo.”
Relaxing was the last thing on the agenda. I held my breath and gritted my teeth as we came to a stop at the intersection directly off the highway. No sign of the Buick.
“You picked the wrong team to play for,” that voice, Alan’s voice, told me, “but, it’s not too late, Mandy Cross. You can still come home…”
“Where’s home?”
I asked it out loud and Reynolds (naturally) assumed I was talking to him. He pointed to the right, in the direction of my apartment. “That way.”
With no further ado, he headed off toward Brick Street. A couple turns later and I spotted Alan up ahead. Now we had no line of cars to hide behind.
“There he is,” I said and made a quick call to Lyman.
“We need to talk, Mandy Cross,” Alan said. “Have your taxi driver drop you off at the four-way stop. Head west and you’ll come to an old barn about a hundred yards up the road. I’ll be waiting.”
“Pull over!” I shouted.
Reynolds swiveled more than steered the car off to the side.
“What’s going on?” he demanded, sweeping his gaze from one shoulder to the other like expecting an ambush.
“I’ll take it on foot.”
Reynolds coasted the car back on to the street. “The hell you will! Way too dangerous, Mandy; even for you.”
“Listen - that fucking voice in my head...it’s him - Alan! He wants to meet up.”
“You’d be alone; two against one.”
“This is something I’ve got to do…”
Reynolds tapped the wheel hesitantly, but eventually pulled off into the parking lot of some outlet store. He got out and popped the trunk, returning only a minute later with a cache of arms.
“Take these,” he said, handing me a coagulant pistol and a handgun, “and leave your cell phone ON. Don’t even think of going off the grid; you may be the vampire but I’ve got the tracking experience. I’ve got your back if you need me.”
Coming from Reynolds, that sounded as close to a sentimental goodbye a person could hope for. I left him at the car, heading for my impromptu rendezvous with Alan ‘Freaking’ McCartney.
For once I felt unsure of what to do. Mandy had an agenda, and if we took off after her, we could do more harm than
good. I didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone, but I sat by the side of the road for an hour.
Reynolds looked twitchy too, seemed he had grown quite attached to her.
“I can do a recce,” he said at last. “Stay out of the way, report back.”
I couldn’t stand it a moment longer. “Go for it.”
He rummaged in the trunk of his car and pulled out a briefcase. The man never failed to surprise me. In seconds, an assembled sniper rifle lay loaded with scary-big ammunition.
“Sniper too, huh?”
He just grinned, pulled on a camouflaged vest with a thousand pockets, and walked off with a big grin on his face.
“He worries me sometimes,” Mary-Christine said, watching him from the passenger seat.
“I know what you mean.” Like watching a lion calmly stalking his prey. “So what do we do now?”
“We could make out.”
I stood open-mouthed for a second, my rebuke literally on the tip of my tongue, then I just shook my head. “I think we should be more alert than that.”
I turned to see her grinning at me.
About fifteen minutes later my phone went. Reynolds.
“What’s up, Frank?”
“Looks like Mandy’s in an old barn, about a mile up the road. The Buick’s parked outside, door’s open.”
“Anything we can do?”
“Not really. I’m going to get a bit closer, but we have to assume at least two vampires inside, maybe more.”
“Okay, keep us informed.”
“Will do.”
I felt so useless. Mandy could be lying in pieces, and I felt powerless to do anything. But there really wasn’t a thing I could offer. I felt helpless, than after a while, bored and frustrated.
Reynolds again.
“Yes, Frank?”
“Blonde male inside, so that makes at least three.”
“Any sign of Mandy yet?”
“Negative.” And he hung up.
“Crap.” I grinned at Mary-Christine. “Frank’s gone all military on us.”
“Are you worried?”