Out of the Night

by Robin T. Popp

  The person being rushed in on a gurney was coding. Doctors and nurses converged around him instantly, and the group disappeared through the doors into the back. A few minutes later, the EMT came back out. He stopped at the nurses’ station, and his voice carried into the waiting room where Lanie caught five words that had her straining to hear the rest.

  “. . . lost a lot of blood.”

  “What happened?” Lanie heard the nurse ask.

  “Heart attack. He’s homeless. Someone found him in the alley.”

  “Probably alcohol-induced,” the nurse said, sounding like it happened all the time.

  “Maybe,” the EMT said doubtfully, “only he didn’t smell of alcohol. And he was carrying a hell of a lot of cash on him—almost two hundred dollars.”

  “Drugs, then?”

  “Be my guess. We found recent track marks on him. Still, if he had a bad habit, you wouldn’t think he’d have cash left over.”

  “Where does a guy like that get that kind of money?” the nurse continued. “Not begging. If he did, then I need to quit my job and start standing on the street corner, you know?”

  “Some of his buddies said there was a place nearby paying them for blood. I’ve never heard of it before, and there’s nothing over in that part of town except derelict old buildings, so maybe they were confused.”

  Lanie stopped listening and turned to look at Mac, who must have felt her gaze on him because he turned his head.

  “You think buying blood from homeless men is the modern vampire’s method of eating these days?” he asked.

  “Maybe so. It would explain the theft of venipuncture supplies. But why? Burton doesn’t strike me as the kind who worries overly much about killing his food.”

  “No, he’s not,” Mac agreed. “But he would be the kind to worry about leaving a trail of dead bodies that might lead me to him. In that event, he might consider an alternative means of getting blood.”

  Mac got up from his chair and went outside to talk to the EMTs who’d brought in the homeless man, while Lanie went to check on Dirk. They met back at the waiting room a short while later.

  “The doctor says that Dirk is still in critical condition, but stable. If he got as much venom in him as you did, he’ll probably be up and trying to get out of here sometime tomorrow.” Through the window, Lanie saw the EMT Mac had talked to drive off. “Did you get an address?”

  “Yep. The EMT refused to give it to me, but I was able to get the address from his log sheet while he wasn’t looking. Feel like checking it out?”

  She nodded, and after Mac gave his phone number to the head nurse with instructions to call if anything happened to Dirk, he and Lanie went outside, got in his car, and left.

  The location where blood was being purchased was several long blocks from their hotel, but it seemed easier to walk there rather than drive through the presumably deserted streets and announce their presence.

  Mac seemed reluctant to talk as they walked along, and Lanie soon found herself too breathless to speak. She didn’t know if he realized how fast he was moving, but since she was able to keep up—breathlessly—she didn’t ask him to slow down. In some respects, she was as anxious as he to get there and see if she could catch a glimpse of her father.

  As they drew closer to the address Mac had “borrowed” from the EMT, Lanie noticed fewer people about and wondered if that was because of the area or the time of night. Even street thugs and the homeless had to sleep sometime, didn’t they? Still, the farther they went, the more grateful she was not to be alone.

  “What do we do when we get there?” she asked.

  “That depends on what we find.”

  All around her, the buildings rose like silent, dark sentinels waiting quietly for them to pass into their lair. Lanie couldn’t help glancing around nervously, feeling like eyes watched her from every direction. So busy was she, looking for potential surprises, that when Mac grabbed her arm, she cried out in alarm.

  “What’s the matter?”

  He scowled and raised a finger to her lips to silence her, then he looked around, even studying the rooflines of the buildings around them. Seconds passed as they waited, and Lanie felt the tension grow inside her. They were standing in front of a building on a corner, and when Lanie moved to stand next to Mac, he put out his arm and herded her behind him.

  Lanie finally heard the shuffling noise, but just as she braced for something horrible, she felt the tension in Mac ease as a homeless man appeared. His ill-fitting clothes were streaked with dirt and hung loose on his emaciated frame. She couldn’t tell what color his matted hair was beneath his hat, and it was impossible to judge his age. When he saw them he stopped, a wary look crossing his face as he tried to back away, clutching something in his hand. Looking closer, Lanie saw that he held a twenty-dollar bill and she quickly glanced at his arm, looking for some sign that he’d recently given blood. His sleeves were down and she saw nothing. Unable to stop herself, she looked at his neck, afraid he might have made a direct donation, but although dirty, there were no obvious wounds.

  “Easy, old man,” Mac spoke gently. “We’re not looking for trouble.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out another twenty-dollar bill and held it up for the old man to see. “Just a little information.”

  The old man stared as if weighing the sincerity of Mac’s offer. Finally he nodded.

  “We’re looking for the blood center. I understand it’s around here. Do you know where it might be?”

  “The mission?” The expression on the man’s face turned worried. “You’re not going to shut it down, are you?”

  Lanie understood his concern. He didn’t want to lose what was probably his only source of income, but she wondered if he realized vampires ran his mission. On the other hand, taking another look at his appearance and guessing what his life must be like, she thought he probably wouldn’t care.

  “I have business with the missionaries,” Mac told him. “Can you tell me where it is?”

  The man nodded and pointed around the corner in the direction from which he’d come. Mac thanked him and gave him the money. They waited until he’d shuffled down the street a ways, and then they rounded the corner he’d indicated. They’d gone only a block when Lanie noticed an increase in the pedestrian traffic. They continued walking, and it soon became obvious which building they sought because all the homeless seemed to be entering and leaving the same one.

  “They seem to be doing a brisk business, don’t they?” Lanie whispered to Mac, worried about the large number of people she saw.

  “You wait here while I go in, and for God’s sake, Lanie, stay out of sight. If you see Burton, Munoz, your dad, or anyone else who looks like a vampire come outside—don’t follow them. Just watch and see which way they go.”

  He started to walk off, but she grabbed his sleeve. “Wait a minute. You can’t go in there and fight them all by yourself. You don’t even know how many there are.”

  He gave her that look she was beginning to recognize—the one that said he thought she was wasting his time with useless protests.

  “Okay,” she conceded. “But, for the record, I don’t like your plan.”

  “Just stay out here so I don’t need to worry about your safety as well as my own.”

  He seemed to be waiting for her to agree, so she swallowed her objections and nodded instead. “Don’t get yourself killed, okay?”

  His hard stare softened. He placed his hand briefly on top of hers and then he was gone.

  Standing there, alone, she felt suddenly exposed. She glanced behind her and spotted a nearby entryway. Thinking it would provide better coverage than being out in the open, she went to stand in it.

  She’d been there almost ten minutes when she got her first indication that something was going on inside the mission. There was a mass exodus from the building as the homeless hurried out. Visions of Mac fighting Burton and Munoz filled her head, and she struggled not to panic. Indecision created havoc with he
r ability to focus; she didn’t know whether she should run to his assistance or run for help.

  So preoccupied was she that she almost didn’t see the shadowed form that flitted toward her and then away. She couldn’t help but remember the way her father and Burton had looked on the security tape, and she was immediately struck with a sense of grave danger—like the small rabbit spotted by a pack of wild dogs. She fell back into the entryway and clutched the locked doorknob at her back, frantic for a way to escape.

  If it had been a vampire, then why hadn’t it attacked her?

  She looked around and though she saw nothing, she couldn’t get over the thought that it lurked nearby, waiting for an opportunity to attack her. Acutely aware now of every shadow and small noise that filled the night, it took all her self-discipline not to let her imagination run away with her. Feeling chilled to the bone, she absently rubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to warm herself. Torn between fear and worry over Mac, she was near to screaming when he finally appeared in the doorway of the mission, looking unharmed.

  Unable to suppress a small exclamation of relief, she ran to him and threw herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his waist, holding him tightly. His arms instantly enfolded her, and she felt his body tense as he looked around. “What’s wrong?”

  “Did you see it?” she asked. “Over there.” She turned slightly, pointing to the spot where the shadowed figure had been. “Something was there. I swear it was.”

  “I believe you,” he said and simply held her until she felt calm enough to leave the security of his arms. When she looked around, they were alone. The streets stood quiet and empty, and she felt a little foolish for the way she’d acted. “What did you find inside?” she asked, trying to divert his attention away from her.

  He sighed. “Nothing. The place was clean.”

  She was confused. “Then why were all those homeless there?”

  “I don’t know. I went around the back way and when I got inside, the place was empty. I must have just missed the vampire who was there.”

  “What makes you so sure one was?”

  “I felt it,” he said simply.

  “You mean, the same way you felt Burton at the reception?”

  Surprise crossed his face. “Yeah, exactly like that. They must have known I was there in the same way.”

  “What now?” She’d had enough excitement for one night and was exhausted.

  “We go back to the hotel.”

  “Good.”

  They walked side by side in silence. After about a block, Lanie glanced at Mac and noticed how wan and pale he looked. She hadn’t noticed before and wondered if it was a trick of the lighting from the street lamps or if he was sick.

  About to ask, the prickling of the hairs along her neck and the pervading sense that they were being followed distracted her. Not sure whether her imagination was working overtime or not, she glanced at Mac, but he appeared lost in thought. She resisted the urge to turn around, but as they continued to walk at their slow, leisurely pace, the feeling grew worse. There was definitely something out there.

  “Keep walking,” Mac said in a hushed voice, grabbing her arm when she would have turned around to look.

  “There’s someone there.”

  He didn’t respond, but as they reached the end of the block, she heard the pounding of footsteps drawing nearer. Lanie and Mac whirled around at the same time, and while she could only stare in horror at the men racing toward them, Mac became a force in action.

  He raised his leg in a back kick and planted his foot in the first assailant’s chest. As that man fell back, Mac rammed the heel of his hand into the face of the second attacker. The third man had the good sense to hesitate after seeing the fate of his two companions, but was not smart enough to turn and run away. Instead, he came at Mac, emitting a loud roar as he swung his fists. All three men were of average height and looked street tough, but they were human—not vampires. Lanie almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. A normal street mugging now seemed laughable.

  Still, the attackers were unrelenting as they ganged up on Mac, who, Lanie thought, was enjoying himself. He met each blow with one of his own, and while he was grossly outnumbered, he seemed to be toying with the men.

  She watched his eyes take on that reddish glow and his lips curled back, revealing his fangs. He slammed his fist into one man’s jaw, snapping the man’s head back with such force that he was unconscious before he hit the ground. It seemed to anger his two friends, because they rushed Mac together, but he was ready for them. When they lunged for him, Mac grabbed them both by the front of their shirts, yanked them off their feet, and slammed them against the side of the building and held them there, feet dangling in the air. Lanie looked on, afraid of what he might do next. The atmosphere around them suddenly changed, and the glow in Mac’s eyes grew brighter as he cocked his head to one side and leaned forward. She saw him run his tongue over his front teeth and, in that moment, knew that he was about to bite the men and drink their blood. The men knew it, too, because in an instant, they went from aggressive attackers to frightened prey. Their eyes grew wide, and she thought she detected a slight shaking in one of them.

  She had to do something.

  “Mac, let them go.” She forced herself to sound calm and steady. No surprises or sudden movements, she told herself. Slow and easy. “You don’t want to hurt them. They’re not worth it.” She moved closer to him, praying that in this vampirelike state, he could still hear her. The eyes of the two men darted back and forth between her and Mac. They were clearly terrified and looking to her for help. She had half a mind to walk away and let Mac do whatever he wanted to them. She wasn’t trying to save their worthless lives. She was trying to save what was left of Mac’s humanity before it was completely lost.

  Slowly, she laid her hand on Mac’s arm, hoping her touch would help him focus on her and not on his desire to attack the men. “Please, Mac. Let them go.” When he didn’t respond, she tried another approach. “I want to go home, now. Please take me home.”

  As if he were trying to wake from a powerful dream, he turned to look at her. She offered him a small smile and watched the light in his eyes fade and his lips relax until the fangs were, once again, covered. “Can we go now?” She gave a small tug on his arm, and he gradually lowered the men until their feet touched the ground. She didn’t try to remove his hand from the front of the men’s shirts, but waited for him to do it. When he did, she let her hand slide down his arm until she could lace her fingers through his.

  “Get out of here,” she ordered the two men, her tone brusque. “And take your friend with you.”

  They didn’t wait to be told twice, but bent over to grab their still-unconscious friend under the arms and haul him away. Lanie didn’t give them another look. She had achieved her goal and prevented Mac from killing the three men, but now grew concerned for her own safety. Mac seemed barely under control to her.

  She gave his hand a gentle tug to get him walking beside her, but didn’t let go of him, praying she was doing the right thing. They reached the hotel without further incident, despite the fact Lanie couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being followed. She was glad when they finally stepped into the lobby.

  Once inside her room, Mac let go of Lanie’s hand and silently headed for his own side. He was back to normal, as far as she could tell, but very subdued.

  “Want to talk about it?” she offered, following him to the connecting doors.

  Mac stared at her. “Were you a psych major in college? No. I don’t want to talk about it.” He knew he was being rude, but at the moment, he didn’t care. He wanted her to leave him alone.

  “Fine,” she snapped, stepping back through the doors, mumbling under her breath. “Good night.”

  He saw the connecting door slam shut, heard and felt the impact of it hitting, and knew he should follow her to apologize, but Christ, he couldn’t deal with it right now. He had to sort out what had
happened tonight.

  Lanie had been right to interfere, and he was grateful that she’d been able to stop him. It meant there was still a shred of humanity left in him, albeit a tiny shred, because he’d enjoyed fighting those men, and there at the end, he’d had every intention of killing them. He’d actually meant to pierce their necks with his fangs and draw blood. And the real horror was that he would have drunk their blood until he’d had his fill, and he would have enjoyed it.

  Clint stood outside the hotel feeling lost—and amazed. The minute he’d felt the strange presence coming through the link he shared with Lance, he’d thought it might have been Hector, whom he hadn’t seen since nightfall. As the presence grew stronger, however, he knew it was one he’d not felt before and he’d quickly packed up everything, sent the homeless away, and left the building, slipping outside to lurk in the deepest shadows, hoping to get a glimpse of this unknown intruder.

  That’s when he’d seen Lanie, waiting in the darkened entryway. He hadn’t expected to see her again—much less here in Washington, D.C.

  Drawn to her, he’d moved closer and then quickly left, moving with such speed that he would appear as little more than a shadow to her. He should have gone back to the lair, but he’d not wanted to leave her so soon, content with simply watching her.

  He’d been surprised when the door to the mission opened and the man who’d confronted them in Taribu stepped out. Even more amazing was watching his daughter run straight into this man’s arms. She obviously cared about him, and Clint felt the familiar weight of fatherly concern.

  Curious, he’d followed them. When the street punks attacked them, Clint had moved closer, driven by a primitive urge to destroy the threat to his daughter. Then he discovered that his help was not needed. The young man with his daughter had reacted with surprising speed and strength in dealing with the attackers, and Clint would have left to return to his lair, reassured that his daughter was in good hands, had he not, at that moment, caught sight of the young man’s fangs and glowing red eyes.