Someone Should Save Her

by Robert J. Crane

  Benjy put a gentle hand on Roxy’s arm. She shoved him off. “Ivan’s right,” Benjy said, trying to conceal his hurt feelings at her rejection. “I know you’re upset. But we don’t know what happened, really. We don’t even recognize the guy that did it. Assuming he really is handing him holy water.”

  “You think he’s handing him a vodka chaser?” Roxy spit, acidly.

  “I’ve seen this guy before,” I said quietly, staring at my phone in concentration. Another lie. Well, this was the truth, but understated. A lie of omission.

  All three heads spun in my direction.

  “What?” Roxy asked, a slight hiss manifesting in her speech.

  My brain had been spinning through their entire conversation. I knew eventually they’d place Mill. They might even be able to track him back to Draven’s party, and the two of us walking out together post-Theo. That was a nice little mine that could blow me up at any time, detonating all my lies in one spectacular BOOM that would end in three very angry vampires descending on me. Long odds, but not ones I wanted to play at the moment.

  Besides, why keep it bottled up when I could spin a lie into it and use it to my advantage? Voila, suddenly “Elizabeth” has useful information. We’d better keep her around! Besides, if I did it right, I could steer these vamps in a completely wrong direction.

  Roxy smoldered. “How do you know him?”

  I drummed my fingers on the leather seat, still staring in concentration. “He was at Draven’s party.”

  “Who was he there with?” Ivan asked.

  “Theo,” I said. Sticking to truth could only work in my favor. Other vamps could back up my story. “I met him—briefly—before Theo tried to get me alone.”

  “What was he like?” Benjy asked. He was leaning forward in his seat.

  I shrugged my shoulders. I had to tread very carefully. I wanted to divert their attention from Mill, who was going to get an earful when I spoke to him next. He may have been protecting me by offing one of them, but surely he must have realized that by doing what he did, the remaining three would go to high alert, seeking revenge?

  “He hardly said a word to me.” I finally pried my eyes off the picture on my phone. That part was true. He hadn’t really spoken to me at all until after Theo was dead and he found me on the balcony, clutching my stake, washing Theo’s blood from my hands in the pool.

  Benjy frowned. “Theo was one of Draven’s favorite underlings. Always did what he was told.”

  “That’s what you think,” Ivan replied. “Theo had a habit of sneaking off and having his exploits plastered all over the newspaper the next morning in the form of a missing person.”

  “So this guy, Theo’s friend. Did you get his name?” Benjy asked.

  “I did, but I can’t remember it.” Eyes looking up was the signal that you were trying to recall something.

  “Think.” Roxy was cool, a little snap to her voice.

  “Something with an M … Mark? Michael? Melbourne?”

  Roxy opened her mouth to lash out, but Ivan stepped in.

  “Rox, if she doesn’t know, she doesn’t know. Give the girl a break. She had other things on her mind during that party.”

  Roxy glared cool daggers at me from across the limo.

  Benjy looked at Roxy, rubbing his hands along his pants, leaving dark smudges. I guess vampires did sweat. “You think this guy knows we’re plotting against Draven?”

  I didn’t know which was better; for them to think that Mill actually had been Theo’s friend, or that he was happy to see him dead. My head was starting to spin trying to figure out the web of alliances in Draven’s territory.

  “Maybe he was getting revenge for his friend,” Roxy said, turning her hostile gaze on me, as if she had read my thoughts.

  Now that I had owned the fact, I needed to stand up for it.

  “You think that drink was meant for me?” I asked, trying to seem just a touch rattled. You know, as one would be following a failed assassination attempt. I couldn’t help throwing a dark spin on it. “I mean, normally I’d be mad if someone stole my drink, but in this case …”

  Roxy did not find that amusing.

  “If this guy was there for me on Draven’s behalf,” I said slowly, “I’d be a pile of black goo right now. Draven’s not subtle. Holy water? Not his style.” I shook my head. “No, something else is going on.”

  This was all true. Well, except for the black goo thing, and maybe the timing of wanting me dead. But there definitely was something else going on. If these guys knew I was playing them, there wouldn’t be an ounce of blood left me in.

  “If this guy was watching me,” I went on, “then they would know that we literally just met tonight. Why would Draven strike one of your people? Why not just … kill me?”

  Roxy hesitated. Good. I found a weak point. I pressed on.

  “Killing Charlie to hurt me makes no sense, because it wouldn’t … hurt me. It didn’t.”

  All three of them glared at me, their eyes blazing.

  “Not that I’m not sad and freaked out about his death,” I added, holding my hands up defensively. I really had to stop talking before I thought about what I meant to say. “What I’m saying is that Draven is a lot more cunning than that. He was making a statement here. Not to me—he’d do that by ripping my entrails out and exposing me to daylight. I think this one … was to all of you.”

  Benjy, Roxy, and Ivan all exchanged uneasy looks. The fact that even Roxy showed a flicker of doubt …

  Man. I was suddenly so very glad I worked my lying game to A++ before getting cast out of New York. If I’d stumbled into this as some sweet innocent—like Laura—there was no way I would get out alive.

  Scratch that. Survival still wasn’t exactly guaranteed.

  “You know … I think she’s right,” Ivan finally said.

  I wished I could have sighed with relief. I’d successfully pushed the attention away from Mill and me, and back onto Draven.

  I should be working for the CIA or something. I had gotten so good at lying that I had just convinced a bunch of vampires that the vampire I knew that had killed their friend to protect me hadn’t actually been behind it.

  I was even a little surprised myself.

  “Why would Draven kill Charlie?” Roxy asked.

  Ivan’s jaw clenched. “It is very hard to believe that Draven would punish us this harshly just for complaining about how he runs things.”

  “You don’t think it’s because of Charlie’s … activities, do you?” Benjy said. “Draven really doesn’t like leaving a trail of bodies. Not in his territory.”

  “I told Charlie to clean up his act.” Roxy grimaced. “I didn’t think it’d get him killed, though.”

  It was odd to me, sitting there with these vamps who were as good as enemies to me. We all had the same enemy in Draven, though. It was like some weird hate triangle.

  “I need to know who’s behind this. And if it is Draven, then he’s going to pay for what he did. Nobody crosses us, not even the Lord of the territory,” Roxy said.

  Benjy and Ivan both looked apprehensive, a fine return to when I’d talked about removing Draven earlier. Silence fell, and I didn’t dare break it.

  Roxy blazed like a phoenix in the throes of death. “We’ve been attacked …” she said, slowly, pronouncing every word clearly in the interior of the limo, “… this means war.”

  Chapter 22

  We arrived at the airport a few minutes later. Roxy’s face was set in a steely, determined expression. Ivan and Benjy were giving her a wide berth. I happily followed suit. Clambering back aboard the plane, my heart constricted when I saw the empty glass that Charlie had been drinking out of, exactly where he had set it down before disembarking.

  Stop it, I cajoled myself. He harassed Laura with the rest of them. He deserves no pity.

  I took my seat beside Benjy and was glad that no one felt the need to fill the silence with small talk. If they wanted to grieve Charlie, then I was mor
e than happy to give them the space to do that. It meant that I didn’t have to fill the time with more lies. Which was getting exhausting, even for me.

  I pulled my cell phone out, let everyone—including Iona—know I was on my way back to Tampa, that I was fine but had a lot to tell them.

  Mill received a very different message from me.

  What in the actual heck were you thinking? Thx for the backup, but the Instaphoto gang saw you in one of my pics. Told them I recognized you from the party but didn’t know you. Hope you had a good reason for what you did. On our way back to Tampa now. Meet soon?

  I hit send, deleted the message, and then turned my phone on to airplane mode.

  The tension in the cabin was palpable. Roxy had her arms wrapped around herself, and she was chewing on her bottom lip as she glowered out the window.

  Ivan was scrolling through pics, and I saw him hesitate—snaps with Charlie.

  Benjy was lying with his head back against the seat, staring up at the ceiling. Unlike the flight out here, this was subdued. The frenetic energy was gone. Little was said between us. The noise of the engines pervaded, rather than the laughter of three friends joshing each other like college-aged boys on a night out. Which was what this was, I supposed—what it had been.

  Periodically, throughout the flight, Roxy would let out a low, primal sort of growl. It made me flinch every time, but she was too busy looking out into the twinkling, starlit darkness.

  Twenty minutes after we had crested above the clouds, however, she shattered the silence with another pronouncement.

  “We need numbers.” She was gnawing one on of her fingernails. She turned her beady stare on Benjy. “We’re turning that girl tonight.”

  My stomach plummeted.

  She was talking about Laura. She had to be. I guess it was possible that they were harassing some other poor girl, but they had made it pretty clear that night in her backyard that they wanted her to join their posse.

  I was trying to keep my face blank, but it was really tough when my telltale heart was thundering against my ribs.

  Grimly, I realized that I’d made matters for Laura a whole lot worse. In getting involved, and drawing Mill out here to intervene, I’d caused this little hole to open in Roxy’s clique. Laura was in grave and immediate danger—and it was my fault.

  Worse: right now, I had no way of telling her what was coming. And odds were that I wouldn’t have a chance to talk to her until it might be too late.

  My future came down to two choices. I could let these vamps follow through with this decision, or I could stop them.

  And stopping them meant killing them.

  Two stakes. Three vamps.

  This was going to be interesting.

  The plane descended through clouds intertwined with silvery moonlight. The near-silence between us had lifted now, or at least was trying to: Benjy kept trying to engage Ivan in a conversation, but Ivan wasn’t interested. Between attempts, he kept throwing nervous glances toward Roxy, who was still glaring out the window. She was all puffed up like a bomb ready to blow. Familiar, salty air assailed me as we clambered off the plane. I’d been an off-and-on fan of it since moving here—off because it reminded me that I wasn’t in New York anymore; on because there was something strangely addictive about the tang blown in from the Bay—but this night it meant I was home, so I was most definitely leaning toward the “on” side of things. The time on my phone was just before three in the morning. Dawn was still a few hours away, but I needed to make my getaway fairly soon; I couldn’t exactly fake sizzling in the sunlight.

  “Get the limo,” Roxy said, pointing at Benjy. “I want this done before the sun comes up.”

  Damn—Laura had three hours. Tops.

  I was going to have to deal with this sooner than I was ready to.

  Ivan followed Benjy out of the hangar, and Roxy turned on the spot and stalked off toward the office. Probably to pay the fee for the charter.

  Was it possible that they had willingly separated? And that her back was turned to me? Checking for the stake in my hair—still there, unnoticed—and the one in my waistband,

  I waited until Roxy’s heels had clacked her out of sight, then slipped behind a red cargo container.

  I gently pulled the stake from my hair, and my curls tumbled down over my shoulders.

  I literally had one chance to do this. She wouldn’t linger in the office long. I had to make my move if I was going to.

  I tried to move, but my feet wouldn’t budge.

  When I’d killed Theo, it was a sudden and defensive sort of decision. It wasn’t premeditated. Not like this.

  What I was planning … if you left out the fact they had already died …

  Was murder.

  But Roxy wasn’t human. I couldn’t get thrown in jail for killing someone who wasn’t alive anymore. She wouldn’t leave a body behind for the police to discover. She would just cease to exist, becoming a room temperature slick of black goo.

  But what if … what if I didn’t make it? What if it didn’t work for me? What if the third time was a charm—but for bad luck?

  I’d thought about my death a lot over the last few months. I was only seventeen. It didn’t seem fair for someone as young as I was to die. Because even if they decided to turn me as punishment, I’d still be dead. I wouldn’t be able to go home to my parents, or stay in Tampa.

  What was it about me that made me jump into harm’s way so easily? Was this bravery? Lunacy? Maybe a little of both?

  My hand tightened on the wooden stake. I wished I had sanded it down a little more; a few stray splinters poked the tender skin of my palm like miniature wooden vampire teeth.

  Roxy was standing in the doorway of the office. I could see the man behind the desk who she was waiting to speak with; he was on the phone, chatting to someone on the other end like it wasn’t three in the morning.

  I took a few deep, quick breaths before pushing myself away from the cargo containers and across the room toward Roxy, as silently as I could. A breeze blew, hard. Sea air was overridden by the scent of diesel. It came in a great gust, the smell, like a tanker had spilled beyond the doors of the hangar.

  The man behind the desk rose to his feet, pointed at the phone to his ear, and mouthed to Roxy—apologizing for needing to take the call. A very important matter, apparently, albeit a very funny matter, going by another hearty laugh that rattled him as he turned and stepped farther into the room. A heavy door on the other side of the building squeaked open, and then the man’s voice disappeared as the door slammed shut. Roxy didn’t turn. She crossed her arms.

  It wasn’t difficult to imagine her tight-lipped expression at being held up.

  What on earth was I doing? It was like my body was on autopilot, and my brain was yelling hysterically for it to stop.

  Have you ever watched a horror movie when the character starts to hear their heartbeat in their ears? And they start to get tunnel vision? Like time itself has slowed down. I felt like it wasn’t me, it couldn’t have been me—

  My mouth was dry. All I could taste was the gasoline in the air. My fingers gripping the stake were freezing and as white as bone. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up straight.

  I was five feet from her. Four. Less than three.

  How had she not heard me yet? Did she care? Did she even suspect me?

  I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth as I pulled my hand back to strike, and then struck Roxy square in the back.

  Clink.

  The stake collided with something hard—and, like armor, utterly impenetrable.

  Roxy whirled around—but I only caught a glimpse of her fiery stare before hands wrapped around my waist, wrenching me away from her.

  I was thrown through the air, tumbling over like a barrel down a hill. I yelped—then slammed the floor, all sense of up and down momentarily lost. Benjy stood over me, fangs bared.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Elizabeth?”

  I edged ba
ckward—

  He moved so fast I didn’t see it. One moment he loomed; the next his full weight was pressed against me, a hand wrapped around the stake still, somehow, in my hand.

  I shrieked, jerking out a flailing kick that he ducked too easily—then rolled, stake under me as I slipped out from beneath Benjy. He just chuckled—like Byron.

  Which was a disadvantage for him. It pushed the fear aside and coaxed my anger to the surface.

  He lunged at me again, weight pressing down against my right arm—

  I didn’t even wait to see. I thrust out with the stake in my left hand, and felt it sink into flesh.

  At the same second, a searing pain flared up my right arm.

  Benjy screeched, relinquishing his grip on me. I scrabbled away, free, widening the span of hangar floor between us—

  Stake buried in his chest, Benjy writhed. Mad, wild eyes, all whites, stared above him as he hissed, clutching at the wood sunk into his heart, body contorting like something out of The Exorcist.

  It was too late for him. His skin was already dissolving, decades of long-postponed decay finally setting in. Black blood ran from the corners of his mouth, out of his ears. A sulfurous stench came with it, nauseating and powerful.

  Far-off, I knew that I should feel a surge of victory. But this was so sickening, so horrifying to watch again—so I scrabbled away.

  Pain shot through my forearm again—a long, bloody scratch, running from my elbow all the way to my wrist.

  I touched it with trembling fingers.

  “Well, well, well,” said Roxy, over the last wheezing breaths left Benjy’s body.

  She stepped past it—what was left of it, anyway. Her eyes were wide with surprise, but more sickeningly, with delight.

  “What do we have here?”

  I stepped backward, brain still running at half capacity, knowing only that I couldn’t penetrate whatever armor she wore, so I should run, now—and clanged against the red container. Roxy knelt down in front of me, and ran a thin, white finger down the length of my arm, as if to use my blood as paint.

  “Our new friend is still living after all.” She smiled, but it quickly turned to feral disgust. “At least … for another few seconds.”