Someone Should Save Her

by Robert J. Crane

  “Gregory …” I muttered, clutching my hand over my heart that was beating wildly. He peered in through the window, an almost crazed look on his face.

  “What about Gregory?” Laura asked on the other end of the phone.

  I reached over and grimaced at the pain in my arm as I threw open the limo door, drawing the scent of low tide and salty air inside. Gregory was standing out in the night, fully dressed, his face pale and eyes wide behind his glasses.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked. “Why are you up at this hour?”

  “You called me,” Laura answered.

  “Not you, Laura,” I snapped.

  “Laura?” Gregory asked. “Is that her on the phone?”

  I glared up at him. “Why did you just knock on the window of some weird limo?”

  Gregory’s brow furrowed. “I got your text,” he said. “And since the fashion squad wasn’t trying to break down Laura’s door, I assumed it must be you.”

  Mill turned to me. “This kid is involved too?”

  Gregory’s eyes moved from me to Mill, who was sitting in the seat beside me. One of his eyebrows arched. “Who’s the Cro-Magnon man?”

  Mill’s eyes darkened.

  “Cassie, who are you talking to?” Laura called from phone earpiece.

  “Just get down here, Laura. You’re safe—for now. But not for long.” I looked up. Gregory was hesitating outside the limo door.

  “Oh, get in,” I said. “It’s not smart to talk where other people could overhear us.”

  “Wait—” Mill started, but Gregory had already climbed inside.

  “Fine,” Laura said. “I’ll be down in a second.”

  “Don’t dawdle,” I replied, moving aside to make room for Gregory. “Bye.” I hung up the phone.

  “So, what, are you stalking Laura now?” I snapped at Gregory when he was in and the door closed behind him.

  “You should talk,” Gregory said, “sitting outside her house at four in the morning.”

  “I’m trying to protect her,” I said. “What are you doing?”

  “The same, but less stylishly,” he said, crossing his arms as he looked around the limo. His face blanked as he noticed my arm, his defensiveness melting. “Cassie … you’re bleeding.”

  “I’m aware of that,” I said.

  He shifted his gaze to Mill, giving him a firm once-over. “Did he do that to you?”

  The two stared at each other suspiciously.

  “No,” I said. “Another vampire did that.”

  “Another—wait—”

  Laura appeared, shrouded in moonlight and wearing a comical—given the circumstances—fluffy pink bathrobe. Her hair looked perfect despite just getting out of bed, as though she’d styled it before setting foot out of the house. I leaned across and opened the door for her as she approached, a look of trepidation on her face. She was walking jerkily, eyes darting—searching for vampires. Well, bad news, Laura: you’re about to meet one.

  “Get in,” I said, low.

  Laura crossed the last of the distance to the limo on quick feet. She slipped in beside me, Gregory having begrudgingly moved over opposite Mill .

  In one trembling hand, I caught sight of an improvised stake: a piece of broken trellis.

  “It smells like rust and cologne …” Laura mumbled. Her eyes widened when she saw Gregory. “What are you doing here?” And she continued her visual sweep of the car. “And who’s this guy? Why is he covered in tar?”

  “Vampire,” I said dryly. Their expressions twisted in horror.

  “But he’s a good vampire,” I said, taking only the smallest amount of pleasure in seeing Gregory lean away from Mill nervously.

  “I won’t eat you,” Mill said to Laura. “Either of you,” he added with a quick glance at Gregory.

  For some reason, Laura did not relax.

  “Wait, was he one of the ones who helped you with Byron?” Gregory said, his eyes narrowing.

  “Sort of,” I answered.

  “Can someone please tell me what is going on here?” Laura asked, wrapping her arms tighter around herself.

  “Not now,” I said. “Later, yes—but we need to get away from here, before Roxy and Ivan show up.”

  Laura asked weakly, “Roxy and Ivan?”

  “Your stalker friends.” I added, “What remains of them, anyway.”

  “Where are we going?” Gregory asked.

  Mill looked from me to Laura. “I have a place that we can go.”

  “Where?” I asked.

  He knocked on the window to the driver, and when the smoky glass divider slid down, gave him an address.

  “That’s on the Bay,” Gregory said.

  “I know.” Mill turned his dark eyes on me, and I tried not to make too much of it. “It’s my place.”

  Chapter 26

  Mill lived in a place that I did not expect: along the eastern side of the city, across the street from the longest sidewalk in the world that ran all the way down the southern peninsula of the city, and was nestled right alongside Tampa Bay. It was a modern building with clean lines, more windows than cement stretching up into the sky.

  The limo dropped us off near the front door. The lobby was of the swank city type; crystal chandeliers, marble floors, and blooming orchids on every surface. Mill moved swiftly through, even as the man behind the front desk waved at him. Gregory, Laura and I followed awkwardly, awed and out of place.

  After a thoroughly uncomfortable and silent elevator ride, we stopped at the tenth floor. Mill stepped out and walked all the way down to the end of the hall. He unlocked the door and flicked a light switch, then stood aside to let us in.

  We stepped into a large rounded foyer, with doors on either side, that led down a hall into a large, open room with a back wall of windows. There were pine hardwood floors, whitewashed walls, and an intricate glass lantern that hung over our heads.

  “Whoa …” Gregory whispered, sliding his hands into his pockets.

  Mill didn’t react; he locked the door, which had three seriously large locks, and then walked farther inside, turning on more lights.

  I followed.

  The apartment smelled of leather and bergamot, and I realized with a start that I noticed that scent every time Mill was around.

  Mill was a minimalist. He had two sparsely decorated bookshelves on either side of the flat screen television. There was only one painting on the wall across from the windows; a series of rolling hills in the dawn light. A black leather sectional took up most of the living room, wrapping around a plain glass coffee table with a stack of books about architecture, and rested on top of a plain grey rug.

  I saw what looked like open Japanese paper doors, and a sleek desk in the dark room beyond. The kitchen was also dark, but I saw high-end metal everything, and what looked like a wine fridge, glowing blue.

  I shuddered. Wine coolers and I were not on good terms.

  Mill set his keys in what looked like a bowl made of real silver on a simple wooden buffet table beneath the painting. Beside it rested a small dragon carved from a bright green stone. Was that actual jade?

  How long had it taken to acquire these things?

  “I bet the view from here is amazing in the daytime,” Laura said breathlessly, stepping toward the windows like a fly drawn to a bug zapper.

  I glanced at Mill. “Yeah. How do you deal with all the sunlight in a place full of windows?”

  Mill reached for a small remote on the buffet table. He pressed a small red button, and blinds that had been nearly invisible above the windows slid slowly down over them like drooping eyelids.

  “Ah.”

  “For a safe house, this is pretty impressive,” Gregory said, giving the room an appreciative glance around. I wasn’t sure I wanted to admit it out loud, but yeah. It was a pretty cool place. And nothing like Byron’s, which had been over the top fancy, full of gold and velvet. A good thing, really—I couldn’t bear to be here otherwise.

  “Cassie, come
with me,” Mill said. “I’ll get you some clean clothes.”

  Right—my bloody arm. I knew that he had insisted it didn’t bother him, but there had to be a limit to his tolerance.

  I hesitantly followed him down another hall. He stepped into the last room on the left, another clean, simple affair fragranced with that pleasant air of leather and bergamot. The bed had a dark headboard, pristine white down comforter, and a half a dozen pillows. Two white end tables were adorned with simple glass-bottomed lamps. A little bonsai tree, which seemed to be flourishing, sat atop the dresser.

  “Why do you have a bed in your room?” I asked him. “I mean … you don’t sleep, right?”

  He pulled a black t-shirt out of the dresser and tossed it at me. I caught the faint scent of bergamot again.

  Mill opened another drawer. “Of course we sleep.”

  I watched his face carefully, which remained blank. He tossed a pair of pajama bottoms at me, red plaid.

  He straightened and pointed at another door along the wall. “The bathroom is in there. Go ahead and get cleaned up. I’ll get a bandage for your arm.”

  And with that, he left the room.

  The bathroom was modern and clean, also entirely white. Marble sink, glass-walled shower, and yet another tall window spanning from floor to ceiling.

  I set to work peeling the bloody fabric from my skin. It was hard to believe that only been a few hours before I had been getting dressed in my best clubbing attire – well, mine and Xandra’s – to just see what these vampires were about, maybe get some insight into their plans.

  I tossed my filthy clothes into the sink and turned on the hot water.

  I glanced at the shower and debated hopping in, but the idea of being so vulnerable nearly made me vomit in the sink. Instead, I used my bare hands to wipe as much of the dried blood, both mine and Mill’s, off me before pulling the t-shirt and pajama bottoms on.

  The hot water was soothing, easing some of the tension in my muscles. The bar of soap frothed nicely and smelled of lemon and lavender.

  My own blood washed out easily, but the vampire blood was another story. It looked like tar and dried like tar. I scrubbed at it with the flowery-scented soap, but to no avail. The stake tangled with the pile of clothes. I fished it out, rinsed it off, then dried it and tied my hair into a bun, pushing the stake through to secure it. At this point, I didn’t want to be without one ever again.

  Feeling significantly better, not to mention cleaner, I bundled my damp clothes and padded back out into the living room.

  I found Mill sitting on the couch with a book in his hands. He had changed and looked good as new. A package of bandages rested on the arm of the couch beside him.

  Gregory and Laura were whispering to each other, though not quietly. Gregory’s shoulders were hunched up to his ears, and Laura’s lips were pressed tightly together. Gregory looked like he was trying to console Laura. Laura didn’t seem to want any of it. She kept flinching as if she expected to get attacked by Mill.

  Mill pretended they didn’t exist. He looked up when I stepped into the room.

  “Feel free to leave your clothes over there,” he said, pointing to one of the barstools. “Vampire blood is hard to get out. I’ll take care of it for you. But first, let’s get you bandaged up.”

  He moved over on the couch, making room for me to sit right beside him. He turned to Gregory and Laura. “You can sit too, you know.”

  Laura laughed nervously, playing with her hair. Gregory just hesitated.

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  That seemed to stir them to life. They slowly made their way around the couch to join us.

  “So, what now?” I asked Mill as he started to unwrap the bandage.

  Mill’s fingers were like ice against my skin as he began to wrap the gauze around my arm. It was almost pleasant against the low burn of my clotting wound—almost. Because, helpful to me or not, he was still a vampire—and I was his natural prey.

  “Well, we’re safe from the remaining two for now,” Mill said when at last the bandage was secure. “They may know my face, but they’ll have no luck finding me or where I live. And they didn’t follow us.” He examined my arm carefully to ensure he had covered it well. “Besides, if you’re right and they want war, they aren’t going to skip town after what just happened.”

  “What do you mean, ‘remaining two’?” Gregory asked, his eyes fixed on my arm in Mill’s grasp.

  “Well,” I launched into a modified version of the night’s events. I didn’t give all of the details of my fight with Benjy, or how disgusting the fight between Mill and Ivan had been, but by the time I was finished, both Gregory and Laura’s faces had turned ghostly white.

  “So they were coming to …” Laura gulped. “Turn me?” She stumbled over the word.

  Gregory’s jaw tightened. “Why tonight?”

  “Didn’t you hear my story?” I asked. “We cut their little posse in half tonight and gave Roxy a holy facial.”

  “Yeah, but …” Gregory said, “what was turning Laura tonight going to accomplish?”

  Mill stepped in. “Roxy is an emotionally driven creature. She was grieving the loss of one of her lovers—”

  “Wait, lover?” I asked.

  Mill turned his eyes patiently onto me. “Why else would she have reacted that way?”

  I swallowed hard. Maybe he was right. And I’d just thought this was her gang. Maybe there was more at work here than I had thought. I tried to push it out of my mind.

  Laura made a whimpering sound. “I don’t want to become part of this kinky Instaphoto vampire gang.”

  “No, you really don’t,” Mill said. “Nobody does. It’s why they have to turn humans to get members. No self-respecting vampire wants to be part of what they’ve got going on.”

  “This whole thing is just so bizarre,” Gregory continued. “Fascinating, almost.” Laura shot him a murderous look.

  “I said ‘almost,’ didn’t I?” He cleared his throat. “What do we do now? It’s not like we can just live here at Mill’s condo forever, as nice as it is.”

  Mill nodded, and then suddenly straightened.

  “Get to the spare bedroom,” he whispered, rising to his feet so fast it didn’t register in my brain.

  “What?” Laura whispered, grabbing Gregory’s arm tightly.

  Gregory’s face flushed.

  “Door on the right,” Mill whispered, gesturing for us to move. “Quickly. Quickly!”

  “Mill, what is it?” I breathed as Gregory and Laura stumbled past the coffee table. “It’s not them, is it?”

  “No,” he replied. “Go. I’ll explain later.”

  I hesitated, but his gaze was ominous and forceful. “Go!”

  I turned and hurried down the hall after Gregory and Laura.

  We slipped into the room and closed the door behind us, falling into darkness.

  “Shh,” I whispered to Gregory and Laura—their breathing, hers in particular, was loud, rapid.

  I pressed my ear to the crack between the door and the frame. Mill’s footsteps hurried across the condo. The sound of locks being unfastened …

  “Hello, my love,” said a woman’s voice, smooth as fresh-poured blood. “I was wondering if you were home. I brought you something … fresh.” She rattled a plastic bag.

  A blood bag.

  Mill had a girlfriend.

  A vampire girlfriend.

  Chapter 27

  “Who is it?” Laura hissed.

  I nearly jumped out of my skin. I’d forgotten she was there for a second.

  “Some woman,” I said. “Hold on.”

  I returned my ear to the door. The new vampire woman was talking animatedly.

  “… didn’t answer my calls? I thought we’d talked about that,” she was saying.

  “Kate,” I heard Mill reply, sounding particularly drained. “I’m sorry. I had other things to take care of tonight.”

  “I’m not an idiot, you know,” the Kat
e replied nastily. Heels clacked against the hardwood floor, growing louder—she was coming this way. “That’s what you say every time you ignore my calls. Pretty soon I’m going to start to feel like maybe your heart just isn’t in this, Mill.”

  My heart hammered against my chest, worried that she might walk straight into the room.

  But Kate’s steps stopped short—still in the living room, I thought.

  “You’ve got that look again, like you’re guilty about something,” Kate snapped. “Did you make a kill and not invite me? You’ve been seeing other women again? Sneaking around?” She sounded less upset as she ticked off the possible offenses, like going on a human hunt without her was the height of betrayal. My head whirled at that.

  “No, Kate,” Mill said, a touch of annoyance in his tone. “I haven’t done any of that. Shouldn’t surprise me you’d accuse me, though; they say the guilty see their crimes reflected back every time they look at someone …”

  Kate did not respond to that for a long moment, but when she did, it was a doozy. “Whose clothes are those?”

  Oops.

  A weight like lead formed in the pit of my stomach.

  “You want to tell me why you’re here this close to morning?” Mill countered.

  “You want to tell me what you were doing all night where I couldn’t reach you?”

  “Not exactly, no,” Mill answered.

  “Fine,” she said. “Then maybe you’ll be interested in the latest piece of gossip I heard this evening.”

  She took a moment to pause dramatically.

  “There’s talk of war, Mill.”

  War? That was what Roxy had said. The weight in my stomach increased.

  “Why?” Mill asked.

  Kate laughed, a loud and sharp sound that made me grit my teeth. “Apparently, another vampire was murdered tonight. In Miami.”

  My blood went cold, my knees weakened. How in the world did the news travel that fast? Charlie’s body was still warm in the grave, figuratively speaking.

  “Cassie, what’s she saying?” Gregory whispered.

  I shushed him again.

  “Varycas, the Lord of Miami, seems to think that it was a territorial move orchestrated by Draven himself. The kill happened in one of his nightclubs, in full view of everyone. The guy got slipped holy water.” There was disdain in Kate’s voice. “Stupid. And messy.”