The Falstaff Vampire Files (21 page)

They covered the two-story house in a living, crawling mass that billowed and moved in waves. Some crawling over each other. Some floating up, as if buoyant, to circle about and return, like pigeons rising from a flock and settling back down again.

The glints of red were huge, round eyes in otherwise featureless faces.

One of them left the pack and zoomed toward me—red eyes, burning like coals. It seemed to see me behind the curtain. I dived down straight down to the floor without a moment’s hesitation. A moment later I heard a rustling at the window and a gentle bumping against the glass as if someone were tapping on the window with a balloon—bizarrely light, considering that they seemed to be the size of humans.

I could see the reddish glow on the floor reflected from the luminous eyes peering into my window. I backed up along the floor until I was at the opposite wall, where they should not have been able to see me. Occasionally one of them bobbed past the gap between the curtains and I caught a flash of moving, shark-gray flesh and neon red eyes. They didn’t seem able to break the glass—they encountered it like fish at the edge of a tank, puzzled, interested. There was a faint slithering sound along the exterior wall of the cottage.

My mouth was so dry, I could barely swallow. I made myself take deep breaths and stayed on the floor as I scrambled into the next room. What were they? How could I keep them out? Were these creatures of the night, like vampires, who would be gone with the morning light? I wanted to talk to Vi, worried that they might be hurting her—not that I knew how to stop them if they were.

I called and got Vi’s voicemail. I huddled on the floor. Faint bumping noises outside and I saw the red light of the creatures’ eyes reflected on the wall opposite as they clustered at the window. I looked over to the door and saw the same red flickering around the edges of the door. The digital clock on the wall read 2:30. I called Larry.

“I sincerely apologize for calling so late.” Even I could hear the fear vibrating in my voice.

“Hi, Kris, don’t worry about the time. What’s going on?”

“That’s just it, Larry. I’m not sure what’s happening, but I need to talk to you about something I’m seeing. It’s either a hallucination—or, I don’t know what.” I explained about the floating creatures outside Vi’s place and my window.

“How very William Blake.”

“Don’t go Joseph Campbell on me, Larry.”

“No, hon, I was trying to make you laugh. What you describe sounds terrifying. Shall I come over?”

“Okay, but Larry—”

“Yes, dear.”

“If you see anything that looks dangerous, turn around and run like hell. Call me from home. Don’t put yourself at risk.”

“Hang in there, Kris. I’ll be right over.”

Chapter 57

Kristin Marlowe’s typed notes

August 27th predawn hours

Ten minutes later I buzzed Larry
through the gate and he walked past the hordes of floating monsters as if they did not exist. I pulled him inside without a word and shut the door on the creatures hovering just outside.

Hugging Larry made me feel much better. But the specter bobbing curiously at the window over his shoulder made me feel much worse.

Larry clearly didn’t see it, and his presence didn’t stop my seeing it.

“Let’s start by turning on a few lights,” he said. “You’re sitting in the dark.”

I let him turn on a lamp. The light masked the creatures outdoors, but it made me feel more vulnerable, a victim targeted in a spotlight.

“You’ve just been through an awful tragedy, Kris.”

We went into my small kitchen—the window over the sink and counter faced Vi’s garden and the back of her house, but I purposefully sat in the little breakfast nook facing away from the window. Larry sat facing me, ignoring the creatures outside the window.

“Do you think I’m having a breakdown?”

“Tell me what you see now.”

“I’m making a point of not looking, but whenever I do, they’re there. I realize that by telling you this I’m putting myself in a vulnerable position.”

He squeezed my hand. “You can trust me not to abuse your confidence. All I can say for starters is that you’re definitely seeing a reality that I’m not seeing. Have you been eating regularly? I know you’re grieving, and if you forget to eat, that can put you in an altered state.”

“Some of my neighbors brought food. I’ve been eating.”

“You aren’t on any medications that might explain what you’re seeing?”

“No.”

“Would you like to be on some medications? I brought my prescription pad and some sample packs of anti-psychotics. But I would also be happy to drive you to the emergency room of your choice and talk to the docs there. If we do that, I’ll stick around and back you up, however you want.”

I hugged him again. “You’re a true friend, Larry, and I really appreciate that offer. But as a friend, I would ask you to not do that for the moment. I’m freaked out, but I’m hoping whatever it is will just go away and not come back.”

“You’ve never had this kind of hallucination before?”

“Never.”

“I’m not an expert on this particular area, but it does seem late in life to begin visual hallucinations, unless there’s some kind of toxic mold in the house that’s starting to affect you. Maybe you’ve got a brain tumor.” He saw my face and patted my hand. “Just trying to cheer you up. Maybe someone slipped some hallucinatory drugs into a chicken noodle casserole in a misguided attempt at comfort food. Did anyone bring you suspicious brownies?”

I had to laugh, which made me feel a little better. I hated to withhold the information about Vi’s death, but he hadn’t seen it, and he didn’t see the monsters swarming on the house now, so I hesitated. He already thought I was hallucinating—bringing up vampires would convince him I was totally delusional. “Did Bram Van Helsing talk at all about Vi’s death?”

“No. He went back to Arizona to clear up some details and get his car. From everything he said, Vi’s sudden illness and death must have been very traumatic. He did say he was very touched to have been able to help you, and he was coming back here this weekend.” He smiled a little mischievously. “He asked me not to be offended at how hurt he was that you thought he was gay.”

“I apologized for that, okay? I’ve been living in San Francisco too long.”

“I had a feeling he liked you, and this just confirms it.”

“Thanks, that cheers me up. I’m looking forward to seeing him again.”

“And seeing more of him next time.” Larry winked.

I had to laugh. Somehow Larry had accomplished the impossible and made the terror fade just a little.

He patted my shoulder. “Okay, Kris. Now that we’ve got your love life back on track, let’s do an assessment. You told me what you see. Do you hear anything? Voices? Whispers, unusual sounds?”

“No.” Now that he mentioned it, I considered how odd that the mass outside was so amazingly silent. Suddenly I took comfort in the possibility that this was a passing hallucination.

“How about other senses—do you feel as if anything is touching you? Like a crawling sensation on your skin?”

“You’re creeping me out even more, Larry.” I shuddered. “No tactile sensations, but thanks for suggesting it.”

“It’s very common for people who have recently lost a loved one to experience hearing their voice or briefly seeing them.”

I shuddered. “Yes. I’ve heard of that.” I was pretty sure Vi’s vampire life was not a delusion, but would I know if it was?

Larry put his hand on my forehead. “No sign of a fever—infections can cause hallucinations. We could take your temperature, but your forehead is actually cool and not clammy. No outward signs of shock. No hot and cold feelings?”

I shook my head.

“You’re shaking a little, though.”

“Scared,” was all I could say.

Larry got up and came over to hug me again and sat down next to me on the padded bench of the breakfast nook keeping an arm around my shoulders. “You’ve had such a rough time the last few days. Are you sure you don’t want to come back to sleep in my guest room, just to get away from this place for awhile?”

I sighed. “No, thanks, I’d better stay. I’ve got to feed Vi’s cats in the morning.”

“You’re shivering. How about if I tuck you in with an extra blanket and warm up some milk for you with toast. In my handy dandy drugs sample bag I have a mild sedative if you’d like it--no?”

I shook my head and managed a shaky laugh. “I might warm up some milk. I’m better now, thanks, Larry. You should go home—you’ve got my clients to see as well as your own tomorrow. But thanks for coming over at this hour and listening to me without judgment. I think I just needed to hear a professional verdict of sanity.”

“Relative sanity, Kris. Everything is relative.”

“Thank you, Doctor Einstein.”

He left soon after. I watched him go through the gate, and a few inches away on the other side of the window the red-eyed creature stared at me. I made eye contact and for a dizzying moment I was pulled into the human-looking iris in the middle of the neon-red eyeball.

The thing opened a mouth that was crowded with razor sharp teeth and smashed it up against the window pane with a solid thunk. Then it began to suck. Each one of those needle-like teeth opened up, drawing energy out of me. I could feel it, almost see the life force draining out of me in a tangible gush. I staggered a step forward.

The phone rang and I jumped. That broke whatever link had been established. I heard a loud pop. It might have been the creature peeling away from the window glass. I resisted the urge to check, and backed away. It didn’t seem to be breaking the glass or coming in, but I felt drained. The damn thing had been sucking my life force through the window.

I turned and scrambled for the phone.

Vi’s voice was loud and harsh on the line. “Stay away from the windows. Keep your back to them. Any attention draws them. Their eyes kill. Don’t look.”

She hung up.

I held the phone stunned for a moment, then remembered that Sir John’s voice had somehow reached me to say something similar when I was pulling Vi away from the window. The night she got sick. Two nights before she died.

The trembling had been replaced by a bone-deep weariness. I went to get some duct tape out of a drawer and taped the edges of the curtains down so not even a trace of window could be seen. I couldn’t help but think of a schizophrenic woman I’d met working at a free clinic, who lined her coat and hat with aluminum foil to ward off dangerous thought wave transmissions. Somehow that didn’t seem so crazy to me at this point. What if I had told Larry that a phone call from a dead woman had given me suggestions about warding off red-eyed, energy-sucking creatures.

I looked at my watch. It was nearly 4:00 a.m. I sat in the chair, well away from the window, and tried to think clearly. Finally I pulled out my purse and dug out Edgar Morford’s card. The vampire lawyer’s number was the same as the one I had copied from Sir John.

If midnight was noon in the vampire world, as Sir John had told us, then 3:45 a.m. would fall toward the end of his business day.

Chapter 58

Kristin Marlowe’s typed notes

August 27th 4:00 a.m.

Morford answered on the first ring.
“Kristin.” Either a psychic vampire, or one with caller I.D.

“Edgar, something weird is happening.”

“Describe it.”

“I can see the back of Vi’s house from my front window. It’s covered in a swarm of huge gray—things with red eyes. I think they saw me and now some of them have come over to my window.” I couldn’t disguise the raw edge of hysteria in my voice.

“ You just had a narrow escape. You must have known not to look in their eyes or you wouldn’t be talking to me. “ His voice grew cautious.”I think I know what you’re dealing with, but just to be sure, describe these things.”

“Red eyes, different sizes, but they look somewhat human. Except they float. They’re bumping up against my window like moths. I think—” My throat was so dry I could barely speak. “I think one of them was draining my life force when I made eye contact.”

“Never do that, and don’t give them the slightest invitation to come in.”

“They could get in?”

“Only if you are insane enough to invite them.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Then you should be safe if you ignore them.”

“But they’re crawling all over Vi’s house.”

“That is puzzling.” His voice tone was chilly. “We don’t know a lot about them. Studying them is dangerous. It’s not unheard of for living humans to see them if they have been vampire-bit. Sir John drank your blood—any vampire can tell this when they meet you. But the horde you describe only swarm when living people invite them. You didn’t invoke them somehow, did you, even by accident?”

“My God, no!”

“They can bring humans over into a kind of undeath. We call them the Others but they do not speak to vampires except to kill us. No one knows where they came from or how to destroy them. I cannot imagine why they would attack Violet’s house. It was Sir John who brought Violet over, was it not?”

“Yes. He did. I saw it.”

“Eyewitness testimony is persuasive.” His tone was dry, as if he suspected me of not telling the whole truth. “Violet rose up like a vampire—that I myself saw.”

“Can they hurt Vi? They’re all over her house.”

“She’s going to her orientation meetings, isn’t she?”

“Of course she is. She wouldn’t miss them.”

“Don’t worry, then. From the first night she has received instructions about how to deal with them.”

“But you said your organization takes care of vampires in need.”

“Not the Others—or their spawn. Avoid them. They will kill you. Or worse.” He hung up on me.

Bastard. So there was some kind of class war going on among vampires. British vampires with titles and their guests got preferential treatment. Vampires with property got custom coffin bases and an education. Bring us your tired, your poor, your correctly bitten humans, okay. But if you get bitten by seething masses of inhuman, fiends with red eyes glowing like coals, you’re on your own.