The Comanche Vampire (25 page)

“Ready,
honey?” he said, slipping on his jean jacket.

“Sure.
Sara and Steffi are coming too,” she said. Ned glanced up to find sister Sara
grinning from ear to ear, a suitcase sized purse hung over one arm.
 
Beside her, the Goth girl glowered.
 
From her glare, he guessed she didn’t want to
make the trip any more than he did.

“All
right,” Ned replied.
 
He resisted a powerful
urge to stomp out to the truck but he managed to stroll.
 
The three women crowded him so close it took
effort to turn the steering wheel. “Tell me how to get to the store.”

On
the day before Christmas, the traffic flowing into the parking lot resembled a
multi-lane freeway.
 
Ned slowed to avoid
two near-accidents and paused as another driver shook his meaty fist at an old
woman driving a boat-sized Chrysler.
 
He
spotted a single parking space at the far end and headed for it, but a sports
car whipped into the slot before he could.
 
Shoppers raced across the pavement pushing shopping carts piled high
with bags and one woman cradled a huge frozen turkey to her bosom like a
newborn baby.
 
“How about if I drop you
three off and pick you up when you come out of the store?”

Anne
pursed her lips together. “I thought you’d come with us.”

That
was about the last thing Ned wanted.
 
He
needed to track down an easy donor and he’d hoped for a little space.
 
He longed to spend time with Anne, but he’d
rather not make nice with Sara and her daughter. “Do you want me to?” he asked
as he suppressed a sigh.

She
nodded. “I could use your help and it’ll go faster.”

Without
comment Ned whipped into an open parking space and cut the engine.
 
He bailed out of the truck and the three
females followed suit.
 
Sara led the way
and they trailed her into the bustling supermarket.
 
The racket of many shoppers echoed off the
ceiling and beneath the sound, canned Christmas carols played over the
loudspeakers.
 

A
rush of smells hit Ned, an intense mixture of cologne, baking bread, frying
chicken, air freshener, and more. Although some might be pleasant on their own,
the combination became noxious in his nose.
 
Sara parked her huge purse in a shopping cart and Anne sent the others,
including Ned, off to find items from the list.
 
Ned picked out a half a dozen large sweet potatoes and bagged them, then
returned for his next assignment.
 
Anne
sent him to search for brown sugar, baking powder, and a bag of butterscotch
chips.
 
He tracked them down and headed
back, hands full.
 

As
he tossed the items into the shopping cart Sara stared at him and Ned noticed for
the first time how bright the fluorescent lights overhead were.
 
He glanced down and noticed his hands
appeared almost clown white.
 
Although
he’d donned a ball cap before leaving the house, he figured his face must show
up pale too.
 
“Ned,” Sara cried. “You
look awful.
 
Are you okay?”

With
effort he mustered a smile. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

“You
don’t have any color in your face,” she said. “Why, you’re paler than Amber.”

Amber,
the anorexic girl, did look washed out and Ned had noticed.
 
“It’s the lights in here, I think.”

Ned
wanted to end the inquiries before Anne returned and the conversation
continued.
 
She appeared with three loaves
of bread clutched to her chest, trailed by Amber, who carried several packages
of bacon. “What about the lights?”

“Ned
looks really white,” Sara said. “He doesn’t look well.
 
Check him out and see what you think, Anne.”

She
turned toward him and frowned. “He is,” she said as if he wasn’t standing a
foot away.
 
He braced himself for the
questions to begin.
 
“Ned, are you okay?
Sara’s right.”

“I’m
fine,” he said through gritted teeth.
 
“I’ve got a bit of a headache but other than that, I’m great.”

Anne
sighed. “Is that why you didn’t really want to come into the supermarket? I
wish you’d said something.
 
It always
worries me when you turn so pale,” she said and then turned to her sister.
“He’s done this before.”

“He
should get checked out,” Sara said. “He may have some chronic condition or
something.”

Amber
put the bacon into the cart. “Oh, geez. Mom, let him alone.
 
So he’s a little pale.
 
What’s the big whooping deal?”

“If
he’s ill…”

His
desire to end the scene before other shoppers began to stare caused Ned to
bark, “I’m not.
 
And it’s Christmas Eve,
so let’s get the shopping finished.”

A
hand landed on the small of Ned’s back. “I do have some presents left to wrap,”
Anne said. “And Mom wanted help with the cooking, so I guess we should.
 
Ned, why don’t you go pick out whatever you
need for your head and wait for us in the truck? If you take something now,
maybe you can get ahead of it.”

“Sure,”
he said.
 
A thought slammed into his
brain with the force of bricks.
 
He’d
picked up a small gift for Anne and had it tucked into his luggage but now he
wondered if he should’ve got something for her family. “Come help me find
something.”

She
looked perplexed but nodded.
 
As soon as
they turned down another aisle, Ned said, “Should I have gifts for your family?
And if I should, how many of them are there? You said there’s a lot more who’ll
come.”

Anne
linked her arm through his. “You’d need about forty gifts but no, it’s all
right. I’ve got presents for my parents, siblings, the kids, and my
grandmother.
 
No one else expects
anything, but I hope you got me something.”

“I
did.”
 

She
tilted her face upward toward his with a smile. “Good.
 
Now, tell me if you’re really okay.”
 

He
kissed her. “I am.
 
Go on back to
shopping. I’ll be waiting in the truck when you’re done.”

“We
won’t be too long,” she told him.

To
placate Anne, he bought a bottle of some headache remedy and a soda.
 
Outside in the sunlight Ned figured he looked
like hell, but he headed down the sidewalk.
 
He’d spotted a small park not far from the store so he made for it with
haste.
 

Despite
the cool temperatures a few people walked their dogs, several children played
on the swings and a couple of old folks sat on the benches.
 
Ned picked out a woman with a rambunctious
German shepherd on a leash.
 
She remained
near the edge of the green space and as he watched, the dog paused to hike his
leg against a bush.
 
He approached, hands
tucked into his pockets. “Good morning,” he called. “That’s a fine animal.
 
What’s his name?”

The
woman glanced up from beneath her knitted tam. “King,” she said.
 

Her
eyes narrowed with wariness and although he couldn’t blame her, Ned turned on
his magnetic charm. “That’s a perfect name,” he said as he moved closer.
 
He knelt down to pet the dog as the woman
hovered.
 
“Does he have fleas?”

“Why,
no, he doesn’t,” she snapped.
 

Ned
pointed to a speck of dirt near the collar. “Then what’s that?” he asked.
 
When she bent down to look he moved with
swift grace and nailed her.
 
His sharp
fangs sank deep into the back of her neck between her hat and coat collar.
 
Ned drew hard to gain what he needed and
finished before she noticed anything.

“That’s
dirt,” she exclaimed. “It’s not a flea.
 
Maybe you’d better get your eyes checked, mister.”

“Maybe
I should,” he said. “Merry Christmas.” Before she could respond he backed away
with a lithe tread and returned to the supermarket parking lot.
 

Gorged
with blood, Ned’s headache evaporated and strength surged through his
body.
 
He reached the pickup as Anne and
the others came out of the grocery store, arms laden with multiple bags.
 
Ned dashed over and took several out of
Anne’s hands. “Let me carry those, honey.”

She
inquired with her eyes and he nodded.
 
Anne’s shoulders relaxed.
 
On the
way home the three gals sang holiday songs and Ned, fueled with fresh blood,
didn’t even mind.
 
If he’d known what
he’d find at the house, he might’ve savored those last few minutes of calm
before the chaos hit.

“Grandma’s
here,” Sara said as they parked.
 

Anne
nodded. “There she is, Ned,” she said as she pointed out the small figure on
the front porch.
 
“And the uncles are
here, too.”

“Are
they from your mom’s side or your dad’s?” Ned asked.
 

Anne’s
smile faded a little. “Well, Uncle Rodney is my mama’s baby brother, but the
other four are my daddy’s brothers.
 
Uncle
Rodney’s gay and he’s brought his partner, Wallace.”

“I
bet the
Delahanty
uncles are straight as a range
line,” Ned said. “Are they much like Bob?”

Her
mouth quirked into an odd frown as she said, “They’re like peas in a pod.
 
They look alike, too.”

Ned
kept silent as he gathered as many of the grocery bags as he could carry.
 
Anne took the others.
 
Sara and her daughter were already on the
porch handing out hugs.
 
Four men who did
resemble Bob joined the group and so did several women.
 
He made a mental count, one grandmother, five
uncles, four aunts and a partner, and came up with eleven additional
people.
 
“I hope they’re staying in a
motel or something,” he muttered to Anne as they approached the house.

“Most
of them are over at Uncle Rex’s,” she said. “He lives in town, too and has a
huge house.
 
The rest are at the local
budget motel.
 
Uncle Rodney and Wallace
are staying at a bed and breakfast inn. If anyone brought kids, they’ll bunk
with Tim’s bunch in the den.”

“So
I’m stuck with David upstairs?”

“Yes,
and I’m sorry, but it’s just tonight and tomorrow night.”

With
black humor, he said, “Aw, well, I can sleep in the truck if necessary.”

Anne’s
eyes snapped with sudden fire. “You’d freeze to death! Don’t even think about
it,” she said. “Now be nice.”
 
Conversation halted as they came across the porch. “Grandma, this is Ned
Big Eagle.”

“Pleased
to
meetcha
,” the old woman said with a saucy
nod.
 
Although her hair was now iron
gray, Ned saw a few faded remnants of auburn hair like Anne’s. “Are you an Indian?”

He
cut her slack because of her age.
 
He’d
been raised to revere the elders and he didn’t think she meant it as an insult.
“Yes, ma’am, I’m full-blooded Comanche.”

“I’m
mostly Texan,” Grandma said. “I’m Irish, too.”

Bob
took his mother’s arm. “Mama, let’s go inside so you can sit down.”

“I’m
ready for supper,” the old woman said. “What’s Rose
cookin
’,
anyway?”

“She’s
got
lasagne
in the oven, same as she does every
Christmas Eve,” Bob told Grandma. “There’s French bread to go with it, too.”

“Why
can’t she fix ham and beans like I always did? It’s more American,” Grandma
said as she headed into the house.
 
Anne
grinned and shrugged her shoulders so Ned forced a smile.
 
If he managed to endure the next thirty-six
hours, he figured he could put up with anything.
 

“Come
meet the rest of the family, Ned,” Anne said.
 

“Let’s
get it over with,” he said and earned a poisonous glare from Anne.
 
Inside, the house teemed with people.
 
He met the uncles and the
Delahanty
ones looked so much like Bob he knew he’d never tell them apart.
 
Ned shook hands with Rodney and Wallace.
 
The aunts ranged from a cool Swedish blonde,
complete with accent, to a short, slender Vietnamese lady named Hong
Hanh
, which Anne told him meant “pink apricot flower”.
 
Her aunts hugged and kissed Ned like he was
family.
 
One of the Texan ones, a rangy
brunette whose bouffant hair had escaped the Sixties without change, squeezed
his ass during their brief embrace.
 
By
supper, Tim and his family joined the festivities.
 
After a brief introduction Ned decided Tim
wasn’t as much of an asshole as Anne’s other brother.