by Bill Blume
“I will be,” she said. “Thank you, David.”
“David?” Why was she—? Then he remembered. “Oh, sorry. My name’s Gidion. I just said that to the vampire in case he got away. Didn’t want him to tell his friends what my name was.”
“How did you know I was there?” she asked.
“I didn’t. I’m a vampire hunter. That’s a safe house that I recently found. Wasn’t expecting anyone to be in there yet. They usually don’t find their meals that early in the night.” She rubbed her temples with her fingertips. Probably better to steer the conversation to more normal waters. “You from around here?”
“Yeah. You?”
He nodded. “Richmond, born and raised. How old are you?”
“Seventeen,” she said. “I’m a senior.”
“Where?”
“Midlothian Springs High.”
He laughed. “We’re rivals. I go to West Chester. Our teams play this Friday.”
That at least garnered a smile. All things considered, she was handling this pretty well. It’s not every day a vampire tries to kill you and someone cuts its head off.
“Do you mind if I borrow your phone?” she said. “I need to call my parents.”
“That’s not a good idea,” he said, “not yet. We need to get our stories straight. First things first, tell me how you ended up in that house with Mr. Fangs-and-Polka-Dots.”
“It’s still Monday, right?” she said.
He nodded.
“I was walking back to my car when that guy walked up to me. He asked me for directions to the mall. Next thing I knew, he’d grabbed me and tossed me into his trunk. Don’t remember much after that. I think he hit me.” She rubbed the back of her neck. He looked and saw a nice bruise there. Yeah, he’d knocked her out or at least made her dizzy enough to keep quiet until he’d gotten her to the safe house.
“Where were you when he grabbed you?” he asked.
“Where? Oh, um, it was my guitar lesson.”
“And that is where?” He’d heard Dad make this complaint about 911 callers. Ask them where they were, and they’d say something like “Richmond” or “the West End,” as if that really told a dispatcher where to send help.
“Richmond Music Center,” she said.
“You take lessons there every Monday night?”
“Yeah.”
“All right, we need to give you some kind of cover for being out this late.”
She looked confused. “Wait, aren’t we going to tell the police?”
Great, this conversation again. “That’s really not an option. Do you have a boyfriend?”
“That’s really none of your damn business.”
He sighed. This wasn’t going as smoothly as he’d expected. “Tamara, we need a way to explain you being out late. If you have a boyfriend, that’s going to limit certain options.”
“I can’t just tell my parents the truth?”
“Oh, sure. ‘Sorry, Mom and Dad, I got abducted and nearly eaten by a vampire. I didn’t mean to stay out so late.’ Yeah, that’ll work.”
“Oh.”
“So, back to my previous question. Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Recently broke up.”
“Perfect. I mean, um, sorry.” Jeez, he really had no skills with girls. “Look, this might be totally out of character for you, but probably best to tell your folks you met a cute guy, decided to hang out with him and lost track of time.”
“So, in addition to nearly getting killed, I’m going to get grounded,” she said. “That’s just perfect.”
“Sorry, and it’s gonna need to be plenty later. We gotta get you cleaned up before you go home.”
“Just where are we going?” she asked.
“You ever see those vampire movies where the vampire gets killed and the body goes all ‘poof’ into ashes?” He saw her nod. “Yeah, doesn’t work like that. Fortunately, my grandpa owns a funeral home with a cremator.”
“Oh.” She must have decided that was more than she really wanted to know, because she immediately changed the topic. “What grade are you in?”
He was tempted to lie that he was a junior, but figured she wouldn’t believe that. “Sophomore.”
“I’m a senior.” She said that with the typical, I’m-a-senior-so-that-makes-me-superior tone. “My folks are supposed to believe I spent tonight out—with you?”
Nice. “Recently broke up, huh?”
“Sorry.” The way she smiled at him, he could tell she meant it. “I do appreciate you saving me. I really do. I just…” The smile cracked as tears ran down her face again. She turned away to look out the passenger door window. “Sorry, I’m not usually like this.”
This was the first time he’d spent more than two minutes with a vampire’s intended victim right after the attack. He’d never considered what this time must be like, and he thought about Ms. Aldgate. For her, this wasn’t even finished. At least once he got Tamara cleaned up, back to her car and home, this would be done.
“It’s okay.” He reached over to give her a reassuring pat on the arm, but he stopped short. That just seemed a little too forward. “We can’t speed right now, but once we get this guy dropped off, I’ll be able to drive faster.”
They spent the rest of the drive in silence until they reached the funeral home. Gidion called Grandpa on his cell to let him know they were there and to open the back door. He sounded pissed. He decided to use Tamara as an excuse to get out of here fast.
“Tamara, this is Grandpa Murphy.”
She waved and smiled at him, but her eyes went all over the place. Most people never got to go inside a funeral home by the back.
“Good to meet you, darlin’,” Grandpa said.
Gidion popped open the trunk and whispered to him. “She could use an ice pack. You got any handy?”
“Yeah, got a few in the break room.”
“Tamara, there’s a small kitchen, first door on the right. Get an ice pack from the freezer for your head and neck.”
“Thanks.” She walked past them. He noticed she did her best not to look inside the trunk.
“We’re gonna have a long talk about this, kid.” Grandpa lowered his voice as she walked out of the garage. “Maybe not tonight, but this kind of thing can’t happen again. You got it?”
They did a three count and lifted the body onto the gurney. Hurt his arm, too. He made a mental note to also get himself an ice pack.
“Sorry, but I couldn’t just leave her there, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to drive anywhere but straight here in a borrowed car with a body in the trunk.”
“You just better hope that girl doesn’t talk.”
They pushed the gurney to the cremator room. With any luck, the most talking she’d do would go a long way to improving his reputation. Spending a night out late with a senior girl…Oh, yeah. Didn’t get much better than that. Of course, with her going to another school, what were the odds of anyone at West Chester even hearing about it? Damn.
“Do I wanna know how you bagged this guy in his boxers? Nice ones, by the way.”
“Probably not.” Gidion placed the head on the conveyer, between the body’s legs.
“Where’s your car?” Grandpa asked.
“Left it parked a few blocks from the safe house,” Gidion said. “Didn’t want to risk transferring a body from one car to the other in the middle of the ’burbs. Gonna pick it up and dump off the vampire’s car after I’ve gotten Tamara back to hers.”
“There’s blood all over that girl’s shirt. If she goes home looking like that—”
“Relax, Grandpa.” They paused for another three-count lift onto the cremator’s conveyer. “I’m gonna run her by my house so she can clean up.”
“Your place?” Grandpa grunted what he thought about that. “Hope you’re thinking with your brain and not your third leg.”
“Just trust me.”
“Uh huh.” Grandpa’s voice was thick with sarcasm. “I’m sure that she’s a fine-looking catch has nothing
to do with your generosity.”
“Hadn’t really noticed.”
“Sure.”
Gidion decided not to argue that point, mainly because he knew he was full of crap. He tossed the vampire’s clothes on top of the body.
“You already search this guy’s stuff?” Grandpa asked.
“Yeah, didn’t find much, but I scored another cell phone and his wallet. These nomadic vampires like to travel light, don’t they?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
Gidion rubbed his right arm. Damn, that vampire did a number on it with the frying pan.
“You get hurt?” Grandpa asked.
“Right arm got hit pretty hard, but I’ll be fine.”
Grandpa checked the temperature gauge on the cremator. “Still warming up,” he said to himself, then looked back at Gidion. “Take tomorrow night off. Your dad working a double again tomorrow?”
“Yeah, he’s going in at four.”
“Dinner at my place. Come by at six, and don’t be late.”
“I’ll see you later, Grandpa. Love ya.”
“G’night, boy.”
Gidion found Tamara still sitting in the break room. She hadn’t bothered with the lights, just settled on the moonlight coming in through the window. She had an ice pack planted on the back of her neck. He grabbed an ice pack from the freezer for himself.
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
“This,” she pointed to the back of her head, “I’ll get over. Just dreading when I call my parents. They’re probably already worried, and they’re gonna flip when I tell them I was out all this time with a boy.”
“Let’s hurry then. We’re gonna run by my house. You can wash the blood out of your hair when we get there, and I’ll see if I can get your shirt clean.”
She eyed him suspiciously as he said that. “Uh huh.”
He wasn’t sure why she was giving him the evil eye, but then he realized he’d essentially told her he planned to take her to his place and get her shirt off. Hunting vampires was a lot easier than talking to girls.
Chapter Thirteen
Gidion was relieved to see his dad hadn’t come home from work early. He parked the Crown Vic on the side street. Page barked like crazy until they got inside. Tamara looked as scared of his dog as she had of the vampire.
“Sorry, I’m more of a cat person.” She had resorted to an awkward shuffle to slowly get by his dog. By this point, Page had stopped barking and was sniffing Tamara in all the inappropriate places.
“Page! Quit that!” He grabbed her by the collar. “Sorry.” The dog resisted at first, but finally gave in as Gidion dragged her into Dad’s room and closed the door.
He led Tamara to the bathroom. He’d given some thought to how to get her shirt without coming across like some pervert.
“I’ll give you one of my hoodies.” God knows, he owned enough of them. He hid most of them in his old toy chest which lived in his closet these days. Bloodstains were the main reason for why he owned so many. “Here you go.”
“You really have a thing for grey hoodies, don’t you?” she said with a smirk.
“I once read that grey is harder to see at night than black.” He shrugged. “Not sure if that’s true, though.”
“Weird.” She took the hoodie from him.
“Um, your strip. I mean shirt! Your shirt!” Oh, dear Lord. He was an idiot. “I mean…just drop your shirt and jeans outside the bathroom door, and I’ll do what I can about the bloodstains while you shower.”
Going by the expression on her face, she was either really amused or seriously pissed with him. “You’ve never been on a date, have you?”
“Uh, no.” He was too embarrassed to lie and just went downstairs to the kitchen.
He scrubbed the sink clean and then heard a soft thud to his right. Tamara’s green shirt and blue jeans had landed at the base of the stairs in a small pile.
“Figured I’d save you the climb.” Tamara’s voice came from upstairs.
“Oh, thanks.” He walked over to pick them up and looked up the stairs in time to see her looking down at him. She was leaning out of the bathroom door. He couldn’t see much of her, but he could see a bright green bra strap going over her left shoulder. She laughed at him, the dumbstruck look on his face, just before she disappeared back into the bathroom.
“I have a senior girl in her underwear in my bathroom,” he whispered to himself. “Wow.” Then he heard the shower start running, and he knew his stupid grin must have been as wide as his face. He now had a naked senior girl taking a shower in his bathroom. “Wow.”
He forced himself to tune out the sound of the shower, the way the water got softer or louder as she moved around in there. He needed to hurry, but the sight of her in that green bra kept distracting him. Damn. She was really hot.
By the time the shower turned off, he was soaking his hoodie in the sink. He heard a loud whirring sound from the bathroom and realized that must have been a hair dryer. He didn’t realize they even had one.
“Hey, I hope you don’t mind,” Tamara said as she walked into the kitchen a few minutes later.
“Mind?” What was she talking about?
“I went digging through your room for some pants.”
That’s when he realized she was wearing some of his sweatpants. “Oh! No, I mean, yeah, that’s cool. Sorry, I was so focused on, um.” He stopped himself short of saying he’d been focused on her breasts. “The shirt. Just didn’t, um. You know.”
Oh, God, he was making an absolute idiot out of himself.
She leaned against the counter, and looked at the sink. “My shirt and jeans in there?”
“No, I already finished with those. Tossed them in the dryer. Did the best I could. The jeans will probably be fine, but I think the shirt’s done for. It’ll be good enough to get you home, as long as your parents don’t look too close at it.”
“Thanks for trying.” She leaned closer and touched the water. “Cold water?”
“Yeah, works better when you’re dealing with blood stains. Hot water just cooks the stain into the fabric.” Thank God. Something he could talk about without going all tongue-tied.
“Neat.”
He smiled at her and noticed the hoodie she was wearing wasn’t zipped up all the way, a hint of that green bra visible. Was she flirting with him or just messing with him…or maybe both? If she wasn’t flirting, then this was just cruel and unusual punishment.
“You can keep that.” He pointed at the hoodie and wiped his brow. Damn, she had him sweating. “Might help hide the bloodstains.”
“Thanks.” She canted her head. “You must be a big Batman fan, huh?”
“What? Oh, the shirt.” He’d forgotten he was wearing his shirt with the red bat logo on it. “More of a Red Robin fan than Batman, but this is a good luck charm. The Chinese consider red bats good luck.” He wanted to bang his head against the wall. ‘More of a Red Robin fan,’ he repeated in his head. Could he possibly kill his chances with this girl any more than by showing off what a comic book geek he was?
“I like it.” Her smile looked sincere enough.
“Got an extra one, if you want it.”
“Considering the night I’ve had, suppose a little extra good luck wouldn’t hurt. My dad always keeps a rabbit’s foot on his desk.”
“Really? Any idea where he got it? I’ve been wanting to get one.” He’d seen a few on eBay, but he wasn’t sure he trusted those to be the real thing.
“No idea. As far as I know, he’s always had it.” She looked away from him after she said that. “Where are your parents?”
“Dad works the midnight shift in Henrico County’s 911 Center.”
“What about your mom?”
“Died when I was little.”
She winced. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“That her?” She pointed towards the wedding portrait hanging near the kitchen table.
“Yeah.”
“She was re
ally pretty. You look a lot like her.”
He nodded. Dad had always said he could see a lot of Mom in his face, especially the shape of his nose. He sometimes worried that looking at him hurt Dad, reminded him of losing Mom.
“So why do you do this?” Tamara asked. “I mean, you hunt vampires?”
“It’s a Keep family tradition. Oh, that’s my last name, Keep. Not sure how far back it goes, but the Keeps have hunted vampires for a long time.”
“So your grandfather and dad also hunt vampires?”
“Used to. Grandpa quit when my dad was ten or thereabouts. Ruined his leg falling off a bridge. After that, he trained Dad to do it. Dad quit right after Mom died, and then Grandpa trained me.”
“How do you know a bad vampire from a good one? I mean, how do you know which ones to kill?”
Gidion laughed. “I just kill the ones with fangs.”
“They don’t all have fangs?”
“Yeah, they all have fangs. That’s the point.” He grinned at her. “Sorry, just a little vampire hunter humor.”
To his relief, she smiled at his quip.
“But how can you be sure one isn’t good? I mean, the guy who had me tied up when you showed up, pretty obvious, but what about one you just happen to see walking down the street?”
“Look, this isn’t like Twilight, and they aren’t searching for the reincarnation of lost loves or any of that stupid crap. We’re their food. It’s that simple.”
“And that automatically makes them all bad?”
He couldn’t fathom that she needed to be convinced of this, not after nearly being killed by one of these things. Then again, this was probably part of that whole denial thing, the hope that things weren’t really as bad as they were.
“Let’s put it this way. If chickens had the sense and the ability to defend themselves, do you think they’d worry about which humans are good or bad?”
“Ew.” She looked like she was going to be sick again. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat chicken again.”
“Sorry.”
She shrugged. “Hey, I asked.”
The dryer buzzed, sparing them anymore vampire-hunting small talk. Her clothes weren’t completely dry, but they were close enough to get her past her parents.