Gidion's Hunt
Page 15
“Then why were you crying the other night? He definitely wasn’t feeling all ‘generous’ towards you then.” He had to find some way to turn her back around on this. She was going to get herself killed.
“He was drunk. I was there with a friend, and he came over to make a pass at her. He didn’t even know I was there, not until after she didn’t answer and he realized she was staring at him and me. I’d pointed him out to her just before he walked over, so she knew who he was.” Her voice shook as she said the next part. “Then he saw me; tried to apologize, tried to hug me, and I slapped him.” She wiped a tear from her eye, trying to catch it before it could smear her makeup. “Truth is, Gidion, as embarrassed and humiliated as I felt, I think he felt worse.”
Damn. He didn’t know what to say to that. Before she’d said all that, he’d meant to ask something. He needed a moment to remember what the question was, and the words scratched their way out. “He’s taking iron and eating a lot of beets.”
“What?”
“They’re common traits among feeders—I mean, vampire servants.”
“How would you even know—?” She shook her head and raised a hand to stop that line of thought, a gesture she often used to stop students who had rambled too far off topic in class. “He’s anemic. Always has been. Can’t tell you how many ways I found to prepare beets to make them somewhat edible when we were married.” That last part drew a smile out of her even as she caught another escaping tear on her fingertip.
“He’s anemic.” Crap. Grandpa said vampires could smell when someone was anemic. Most of them wouldn’t even bother with a person who had blood like that, especially not to keep one as a feeder. Too much effort for too little reward.
He was about to ask her why she hadn’t mentioned that beforehand, but how would she have known it mattered? It wasn’t like he’d thought to ask about it.
“If it’s not your ex-husband, then someone else must want you dead. Can you think of anyone who might?”
“I’m sure there are more than a few students I’ve taught over the years.” She crossed her arms. “Fortunately, the kind of student who does poorly in school typically doesn’t have the industriousness to follow through on something like that.”
He supposed she had a point there, and even as much as he despised Mrs. Brown, he didn’t think he’d give her much thought after he was done with this school year. “That doesn’t change that these vampires want you dead. You saw the text message for yourself.”
She leaned forward, her chin resting on her intertwined fingers. “Gidion, the threat might be real, but I can’t hide forever. There comes a point when running from something is the same as choosing not to live.”
Even though she was talking about herself, Gidion couldn’t help but think of Dad and his mom’s portrait. As far as he knew, Dad had never gone on a date since Mom died. A vampire took her from them. Even if Dad and Grandpa would never say it, he knew that’s what happened. As far as Dad knew, Gidion was completely ignorant about vampires, but their entire lives were organized around their existence and always had been.
He nodded. Doing that made him feel beaten, as if he’d just taken one of Dad’s scoldings. “I’m not going to stop,” he said. “I’m close to finding the rest of the coven. I’ll let you know if I learn anything else.”
She picked up a pad and wrote him a hall pass. “Suppose you’ll need this.”
“Uh, yeah, there’s something else I need, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, God, yes.” She ripped off the note and wrote something else on the next sheet. “I’ve got my new cell phone. This is the number. I had it changed just to be safe.”
“Thanks, that’ll help, but I was wondering if you could repeat the stuff you said we were going to have on tomorrow’s quiz? I was a little distracted when you said it the first time.” He shrugged. “Sorry.”
She laughed. “I’m finding it difficult to think of you as a student. For what it’s worth Gidion, while you’re still a boy to me, you’re more like some kind of Van Helsing than someone I teach.”
“Thanks.” He’d never had a teacher say anything like that to him. After the way Grandpa had acted this morning, it was nice to be treated in a way that ranked him a step above others his age.
“Just make certain you do well in my class, Gidion Keep, or that will change very quickly.”
Well, that was short-lived. “Understood, Ms. Aldgate.” He picked up his notebook and wiggled his pencil to indicate he was ready to write the topics for tomorrow’s quiz.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Even running late for P.E. class, Gidion managed to get changed into his shorts and in the attendance line on time. That was fine with him. Meant he didn’t need to use his hall pass which drew less attention to him having stayed back to talk to Ms. Aldgate.
This was the one class Gidion shared with both Seth and Pete. At the start of the school year, he’d looked forward to this class. This week, he’d come to dread it.
Given Pete’s last name was Addams, he was usually first in line, so it was obvious he wasn’t there. As tall as he’d gotten, it wouldn’t have mattered what his last name was. You’d have to be a dwarf or blind not to notice he wasn’t there.
“Seth,” Gidion whispered down to him, “where’s Pete?”
“Haven’t seen him all day.” He tossed in an exaggerated shrug in case Gidion hadn’t been able to hear him. “Wasn’t even sure you were here.”
The coach started talking then and divided them into four groups for volleyball. Gidion and Seth ended up on different teams at different nets, so they didn’t get to talk again until after class in the locker room.
“You heard from Pete at all today?” Gidion asked. He was eager to get to his car and turn his cell back on so he could send Pete a text.
“Nah. He must have called out sick. Dude looked pretty awful yesterday.”
Gidion stole a page from Grandpa and Dad’s books and answered with a grunt instead of the, “You should have seen what he looked like the day before,” he was thinking. He just slid his jeans back on and decided that changing shirts wasn’t all that important.
Seth didn’t press the matter, though. His mind was focused on matters that related to between his legs. “All right, I promised my girlfriend I’d ask, so…”
“Oh, Jesus.” Gidion slammed his fist on the door of his locker. “Tell that stupid twit you call a ‘girlfriend’ that my personal life isn’t any of her damn business.” He grabbed his backpack and marched out of the locker room. The look of shock on Seth’s face and the collective “Ooooo” and laughter from the other guys within earshot brought him up short as he stormed out of the locker room.
“Classy, Gidion,” he whispered. “Way to make a total jackass out of yourself.” He knew he should go back in there and apologize, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He needed to get to Pete’s and find out what he knew, make sure he was all right. All true, but it was also total bull. He was just too embarrassed.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Gidion pulled up to Pete’s house about fifteen minutes later. Death was parked in its usual place in the driveway, so he decided it was a safe bet Pete would be inside.
He hesitated when he saw the front door. He ran his finger over a large dent in the middle of it. The frame was splintered where the lock was. Had someone kicked it open? Normally, Gidion would have placed his money on Pete’s dad as the culprit, but in light of Pete’s current crowd, that wasn’t a sure thing.
His knock was all it took to open the door. “Um, Pete?”
A head peeked around the corner of the hallway, but it wasn’t Pete’s.
“Hey, Gidion.” He hadn’t seen Pete’s little sister in a long time. Sendy (poor kid’s parents really didn’t do her any favors spelling her name like that) must have been eleven now. She’d started middle school this year. She had short, curly blond hair that looked about as haphazard as the house.
“Where’s Pete?”
“Since this morning?”
She shook her head. “Not since yesterday. Mom and Dad and I went to dinner. Pete stayed home, and when we got back he was gone.”
“But his car is here.”
She didn’t sound concerned, and given how the Addams house was, a kid running off wasn’t exactly a first. He’d be surprised if Pete’s folks had even bothered to report him missing to the police. Only thing was, Gidion didn’t think Pete would’ve left without his car. Maybe it wasn’t working, but he wasn’t getting that vibe.
“Yeah, Dad was really mad, too. He said he’s gonna beat Pete a new one for what he did to the door.”
There was no way Pete could’ve done that to the door, not with the condition he was in. Not unless, he’d gotten a vampire transfusion last night. “Did your Dad see Pete kick open the door?”
She shook her head. “Found it that way when we got home. That’s when Dad said he was gonna beat him a new one.”
“Mind if I come in for a minute?” Gidion looked past her. Didn’t look like anything was stolen, not that he could see. The Addams owned a big flatscreen TV, and that was still leaning against the far wall on the floor of the family room. Pete’s Dad had never gotten around to hanging it, so they just left it there. Gidion suspected Pete’s Dad just didn’t have a clue how to hang it and didn’t want to prove it by having it fall.
“I don’t mind.” Sendy waved him in and then followed close behind as he went to Pete’s room.
“Daddy was really mad when he saw it.”
“I’ll bet.” The room looked even worse than it had the day Gidion had last visited. Whereas the place had just resembled a pigsty the other day, the room now resembled a murder scene, minus the blood and the body.
He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, and he was damn sure he didn’t want to be here when Pete’s parents got home. Just before he was going to walk out of the room he noticed a picture on top of the dresser’s pile of crap. The picture was old. It was of Pete and his two brothers. Pete must have been about five. His brother who was now in the military was decked out prophetically in a camouflage t-shirt. The oldest brother Roddy was in the middle, gripping his siblings in headlocks. Only where Roddy’s head should have been, the photograph had been vandalized with a ballpoint pen. What looked like the shape of a “W” was worn all the way through the paper. Roddy’s torso was circled with an arrow pointing at him from the word “Shithead.” Was it possible Pete had run off? His brothers had done the same, although, they’d at least waited until they were adults to do it. He knew Pete had always envied them for getting out, but he’d never realized he might also hate them for leaving him behind.
Gidion looked at Sendy, standing in the hallway, too scared to come into the room.
“You see Pete, promise me you’ll tell him to call me right away,” he said. “All right?”
She nodded and followed him to the front door.
“Um, Gidion, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“What did my daddy mean when he said he was gone beat Pete a new one? A new what?”
“Um,” he cleared his throat as he figured what might be best to say, “probably just meant he was gonna give him a bruise.”
She appeared crestfallen by his answer. “Oh, I thought he meant a new asshole.”
“Oh, uh, could be,” he said. “Just make sure you tell Pete to call me when he comes home.”
She didn’t say anything else, allowing him to walk to his car and leave. He was glad, because what he’d said wasn’t what he’d been thinking. When he’d told her “when he comes home,” he’d intended to say “if.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Every call Gidion made to Pete’s cell just went straight to voicemail. A text message warning his friend that he’d better not have “fallen off the wagon” went unanswered. Everything in his gut said the shit was hitting the fan, and worst of all, he couldn’t do anything about it.
Dad wasn’t working any overtime tonight. At least he was going into work at ten, but that left Gidion trapped at home. He holed up in his room under the premise of studying for tomorrow’s quiz. Dad was preparing dinner, all excited about an early evening of “quality time,” oblivious that the world was hitching a basket ride to the lowest pits of Hell.
Gidion was rereading page eighty-nine of his world history book for the tenth time when something chimed in his room.
“What the hell?”
The chime had come from his blue backpack. He’d stuffed it on the backside of his bed where he tossed most anything that didn’t have a home in his room or he’d been too impatient to bother with putting away. He pulled out Milton the vampire’s cell from the bag.
“Who’s sending you a text message?” He pressed the buttons to find the text.
The message was to the point: ‘Where the fuck R U?’
“Nice.”
The contact info identified the sender as “R.A.”
“Hey, son!” Dad’s voice had that tone that could only be followed by, “Dinner’s ready!”
“Be there in just a minute, Dad!”
He stared at the message and considered his options. A glance out the window confirmed it was already dark, just a little before seven. If Milton hadn’t been beheaded and cremated this morning, then he probably would’ve been circling the block by now.
Gidion decided to answer the text with, ‘Watching after the brat like I’m supposed to.’
“Gidion!”
Crap. He didn’t wait for a reply, just set the phone to vibrate and put it in his nightstand so Dad wouldn’t hear the phone if “R.A.” answered.
“What were you doing up there?” Dad asked as Gidion jumped down the stairs and skidded into the kitchen.
“Homework.” Gidion hoped Dad wouldn’t ask for specifics. Those kinds of details only got him trouble.
“What kind of homework?”
Crap. At least Dad didn’t see him shake his head. Dad was too busy pulling a pan of teriyaki chicken from the oven.
“Um, world history.”
“That’s Ms. Aldgate’s class, right?” He glanced at Gidion as he closed the oven with a hip bump. “Finish setting the table, would you?”
“Sure.” Gidion didn’t have to do much, just pull out the silverware.
“So, that’s Ms. Aldgate’s class?” Dad asked again.
“Yeah, that’s the one.” Gidion tried to contain a smirk, but failed miserably.
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s just you never remember most of my teacher’s names,” Gidion said, “except for the pretty ones.”
“Excuse you?” Dad’s face hardened. Most of Gidion’s life, that look intimidated the hell out of him, but tonight, it just made him laugh.
“Well, it’s true.” He sat in his usual spot that placed Mom’s portrait to his right.
Dad set a plate of chicken and sautéed peppers in front of him. “That is not true.”
“Uh huh.” Gidion knew he should probably back down from this one, but he couldn’t resist. “Who’s my algebra teacher?”
Dad’s lips twisted as if to squeeze the answer free. Yeah, fat chance.
“My science teacher?”
The only answer Dad mustered was a grunt to clear his throat.
“Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Eckert,” Gidion said. “Both ugly, old hags.”
“Mind your manners,” Dad switched to the raised eyebrow look of intimidation. Sooooo not working by this point. “And that doesn’t prove anything.”
“Really? What was the name of my seventh grade English teacher?”
Yeah, Dad’s eyes widened and retreated to his dinner. Oh, he remembered Mrs. Reynolds, all right. She was one of those right-out-of-college teachers who dressed every day like it was Friday night—lots of short skirts and high heels.
Dad glanced back up as he cut off a piece of chicken. “Still doesn’t prove anything.”
Then a thought struck him. “You know, I bet Ms. Aldgate would like you.”
The amusement vanished from Dad’s face. “That really wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“Why not?” Gidion knew it was kind of silly, but he could totally dig Ms. Aldgate as a stepmom. Wasn’t like Dad had done wrong by him or anything, but there were times when Gidion wished he still had a mom. May had always sucked in elementary school when the teachers would get all the kids to do Mother’s Day art projects. Gidion ended up giving most of them to Dad, but one year, he’d given it to his teacher. She was another cute one whose name Dad could probably still remember.
“She’s your teacher. It’s a conflict of interest.”
“What if I promise to do well in her class?”
“You better do well anyway.” Dad tapped the edge of Gidion’s plate with his fork. “Eat.”
This was just stupid. “Look, it’s not like you’re still married. I mean, it’s been more than a decade—”
“Enough!” Dad glared at him, and this time, he scored enough intimidation to force Gidion’s eyes back to his plate.
Gidion cut his chicken into several pieces. He noticed Dad wasn’t holding his fork or knife anymore. Several times, he’d caught Dad looking up at Mom as if he felt guilty about discussing this in front of her.
“Mom was pretty special, wasn’t she?”
A delayed nod answered him. When Dad looked back at him, he managed a smile. “We were like a perfect picture God split into two pieces when we were born and put back together when we met. I never felt like anyone else ever understood me the way she did.”
“Do you think she’d be upset if you dated?” Gidion didn’t need to look at Dad to sense the defensive wall go back up. “I’m just asking.”
Dad looked at her portrait. “Yes, I think she’d mind. Your mom would probably never admit it, but she could be a mighty jealous thing. One girl from our high school who had a crush on me was scared of her even years after we graduated. Your mom was proud of that, too.”