Vampire Blood (29 page)

“Stop it, Irene! Leave her out of this!”

He reached for Annie, but she shoved him away, threw her hands up to her face and screamed. The cry of someone in agony.

“My blood’s on fire ... it’s burning ... please, stop her!”

Annie had never wanted to be one of them. She’d despised him for years for making her so, but it was her gentleness that had, in the end, changed him. Now, because of his stupidity, she was suffering.

He should never have saved Irene. He knew that now, but it was too late.

Annie fell to the floor, begging for the very undead life she’d once abhorred, as her blood boiled beneath her alabaster skin. It began to seep through her pores, through her gown, and in the beat of a heart, she was covered in her own blood. She could no longer scream, only whimper and writhe on the sticky floor at Irene’s feet. A lump of bloody flesh.

Michelson desperately tried to stop Irene, but no matter how he centered his power, his thoughts, Irene was untouched.

She laughed at his feeble attempts.

He dropped to his knees, taking Annie into his arms. She was terrified; unused to pain after all these years.

It occurred to Michelson that possibly Irene had always had the power to take him on, but had been playing sadistic games with him. Waiting for the most advantageous time to confront him.

Annie’s blood flowed across the cold cement and he knew that soon she’d be beyond help.

“Punish me instead! I’m the one you’re angry at.”

Annie continued to moan incoherently in his arms.

“Stop it,
Irene.
You’ve proved your point,” Michelson capitulated, his spirit beaten. “Let her go. Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.” He couldn’t bear to see Annie suffer any more.

“Ah, in the end, I knew you’d see things my way.” Irene’s tone was smug.

Annie collapsed in his arms, her torment halted.

“I didn’t hurt her that badly. She’ll recover quickly.” Irene looked down at Annie with contempt. “She’s so weak. You should never have made her one of us.” She looked at Michelson, though her gaze included the others as well. “Now, you’ll all obey me.” Her cruel eyes touched briefly on each and every one of them. “You’ll do only as I say. You agree, Michelson?”

Michelson hung his head. “I agree. I imagine you’ll want to leave now?” He was silently praying that that was what she’d want to do. Seeing his dream turn into her nightmare, especially now that he’d come to like some of the townspeople he’d already met, was an existence he’d despise. He knew better, even as the words left his lips. Irene wanted to be queen, and not a benevolent one at that, and queens needed submissive subjects. “You never wanted to come here in the first place, or open this theater.”

“No, I didn’t, yet now that we’re here, I’ve opened my eyes to its
possibilities.”

His eyes flitted to the wooden cages, then up at her.

“I want you to open the theater in a few hours, as you’d planned. Gathering in our meals from the movie goers has proven to be so convenient. I’m tired of searching every night for my supper so this is working out great.”

She was going to continue to feed on the customers, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“And if I won’t?” he breathed disgustedly.

“I destroy her.” Irene’s eyes went to Annie again.

Michelson gently smoothed Annie’s bloody hair away from her serene face. She lay limp in his arms, hiding in a vampire’s sleep. He picked her up and laid her in her coffin. She was a piece of stone. Far away from him. “Let me clean her up, attend to her first,” he said. “Then I’ll open the place up.”

“Good. We’ll be back later.”

When he looked up, they were gone. Savage pack of destructive animals. Always on the hunt. His thoughts were on Jenny for a moment, and for the first time in a long time he felt actual regret.

She would die now. All of her family and friends would die. Irene wouldn’t be denied her fun.

Michelson stared at the cages and flinched, but he was too busy fetching wet towels to take care of Annie to dwell on it long.

They
were only cattle.
Their food.
They lived such short fragile lives. He should never have let their dying affect him. What was a human to him? Nothing. Nothing at all.

Hours later, a weak, but revived Annie sat behind the concession stand awaiting their first patrons, and he opened the theater’s doors for the eager crowd.

Chapter Sixteen

September 10

The hospital was calling for visitors to please leave. Visiting hours were over. Jenny could hear footsteps tunneling away through the faintly lit corridors.

Outside it would be dark. The nights had turned cooler, a little crisp, the temperature dipping to below seventy. During the day, the vibrant colors of the end of summer only made her introspective. Fall. It was usually her favorite time of year. It would never be again.

Now it would always remind her of her father’s funeral; of her mother weeping and wringing her wrinkled hands over her father’s grave; of peoples’ silent, pitying faces, tinged with fear.

There’d been far too many unexplained disappearances and brutal deaths lately, an epidemic. The newspapers were full of them.

They’d buried the Albers yesterday and her father that day. It was a small, close-knit town, everyone knew everyone else, and a funeral a day was all the town could stomach.

Her poor mother. She hadn’t believed Ernest was dead until she saw him in his coffin.

“Doesn’t look like him. Too white. Too still.”

Even the mortician, Mister Stanley, as skilled in his craft as he was, hadn’t been able to conceal the bruises and deep gouges on the victims’ faces.

The townspeople avoided their eyes as the caskets were lowered into the earth. Fear did that.

At least, thank God, her mother was no longer drinking. As if first her husband’s disappearance and then his death had shaken her into sobriety.

Now, since the dead had been laid to rest, Jenny had to decide what to do about the living that were left behind.

Jeff had been trying to get in touch with Clyde Foster for two days now. There was never any answer. He’d finally called Clyde’s home, and his wife had told them, her voice worried, that she and the kids hadn’t seen him for two days either. She’d turned in a missing person’s report.

Chalk up another one.

Jenny lingered a little longer over her brother. All evening Joey had seemed about on the edge of waking up. His eyelids would flicker, his head would toss on the pillow and his hands would twitch. He’d mutter indistinguishable sounds as if he were trying to speak.

If only he would.

She needed to know what had
actually
happened a couple of nights ago.

Jenny and Jeff had spent every night, except for one, at the hospital waiting for Joey to come out of his coma or die. They’d stolen naps in the lobby on the uncomfortable orange plastic couches and had taken turns at Joey’s bedside, hiding from the nurses, who would have made them leave.

After that first night, the doctors had told them that Joey would probably not make it. They’d done all they could.

Her brother had hung on tenaciously, and now it looked as if he’d come through the worst. The doctors had taken him off the life support systems, but the IV still dangled from his left arm. He’d lost a hell of a lot of blood.

“Joey,” Jenny cajoled, stroking his bruised cheek. “Please come back to me.”
Don’t leave me, too.

Jeff was asleep behind her in one of those hard chairs, and Jenny stifled another yawn, as she stole a look back at him.

She was weary as well. Neither of them had had much sleep the last few days, what with the funerals, their vigil at the hospital, and her mother’s rapidly growing bizarre behavior. They’d tried in vain to get Estelle to come stay with them, or to allow them to stay with her at the farmhouse, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Estelle wanted to be alone.

Jenny could hear the nurses coming down the halls shooing people away.

“Gotta go, brother.” She smiled down at him, but as she turned to leave, Joey’s hand came out and clutched weakly at her jacket.

“Don’t ... go.” It came out as a croak.

“Joey,”
Jenny breathed, relief lighting up her face.
“Thank God.”

Joey’s eyes fluttered open, dazed and bloodshot. His smile was a faint shadow of itself, but a smile just the same.

“Sis.”

“Jeff!” Jenny exclaimed over her shoulder. “He’s awake.” She took Joey’s limp hand in hers.

Jeff came to so quickly, he nearly slid off the chair. He was behind her, his hand on her shoulder, before Joey muttered his next sound.

“Jeff?” Joey’s eyes focused vaguely on his ex-brother-in-law.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Jeff grinned.

Joey looked slowly around, his expression confused. “I made it. I’m
safe.”
A funny look scurried through Joey’s eyes before they closed again; he seemed to drift away, yet his hand tightened on Jenny’s.

A nurse appeared in the doorway.

“Get the doctor,” Jenny told her, excitedly. “He’s come to.”

The nurse frowned her disapproval, but taking one look at Jenny’s happy, but determined face, scurried off to find the doctor without saying a word.

The nurse returned with a young doctor in a white coat, who’d been making his late rounds. He was short with longish blond hair and understanding eyes.

He examined Joey and pronounced, “He’s out of the coma, sleeping now. Real sleep. He’s made it. Against the odds, I’d say. He’s one lucky boy.”

The doctor faced her and Jeff. “I’ll advise his primary doctor that he’s out of the coma. I’m sure he’ll want to see both of you first thing in the morning. Right now it’s late. Go home, get some sleep yourselves. You look as bad as he does.”

“Okay, home it is. Thank you, Doctor.”

Jenny nodded wearily, then Joey’s eyes clicked open, and his hands swept frantically out searching for hers.

“Jenny. Don’t go. Don’t leave me ... alone.”
Talking seemed to hurt him and the words came out painstakingly slow and slurred.
“They’ll try ... kill me ... again ... know it!”
His eyes were wide with remembered horror. Fresh terror.

“Joey,” Jenny was hovering over him, a frown on her lips,
“Who
are you talking about?”

“The vampires
.” Joey shuddered visibly, sweat popping out over his battered face. Jenny felt sick in the pit of her stomach.

“Joey, no. Think harder. Who really attacked you?” There were tears of frustration gathering in her eyes.

Jeff was studying Joey closely, a strange look on his face.

“Please, listen ... believe me.
Vampires!”
He seemed to rest for a moment, shutting his eyes, searching for words. “Huge
wolves
.” Then, in a trembling rush, “Jenny, don’t let her get me!” The despairing panic in his face made Jenny’s throat close up.

Joey tugged Jenny down to his lips, and he could barely get the final words out in a rasping breath. “A woman. Pretty. Long blond hair, black eyes ... looked like Samantha.”

Irene.

Joey’s grip relaxed on her, and her shocked face moved away from her brother’s.

Jeff hadn’t heard the last part.

“What did he say?” Jeff asked.

“Nothing. Just nothing,” Jenny lied.

Joey’s eyelids closed heavily, and with a last gasp before he slipped away, he expelled,
“They killed Dad. Albers.”
His hand dropped to the sheet.

Jenny backed away from the hospital bed.

Could it be true? Were the Michelsons killers?

The doctor was standing to the side, regarding them curiously.

Jenny faced him. “After we leave, Doctor, I want someone in here with him the rest of the night.”

“He’s perfectly safe here,” the doctor protested. “Sometimes after a person is assaulted, traumatized, they have nightmares or delusions. Sometimes they believe something happened that never did. A hard bump on the head, like he’s had, often does that. No one’s going to hurt him here.”

“I still want someone here, an orderly, a nurse’s aide,
anyone,”
she
repeated, her voice steely. “The people who attacked him weren’t in his imagination, Doctor. They might try again.”

“We don’t have the staff to give each patient round-the- clock care—”

“I don’t want him left alone for a second,” she interjected angrily.
“I don’t care what the cost is, do you understand?”

“Perhaps you should call the police then?” the doctor remarked and brusquely turned away, out of patience.

He was out the door before she could say another word.

“Jenny,” Jeff caught her arm, settling worried eyes on her. “Calling the police might not be a bad idea. Doctors’ aides and nurses won’t keep him any safer.”