Vampire (4 page)

“About three more blocks. Don't you remember the way we came?”

“I'm terrible at directions. I get lost in my own backyard.”

“Hmmm … so I could take you anywhere, and you wouldn't even know.” Brandon grinned and pulled her closer. “Sorry I don't have an umbrella.”

“I don't mind. It's really not that bad.”

“It's kind of quiet tonight, but on Fridays and Saturdays the crowds are unbelievable.”

“I wish some of the crowds were around now.” Darcy tried to laugh. “It's kind of scary.”

Brandon glanced around, nodding. “Yeah, I guess. If you're not used to it.”

“It's just that Liz and Kyle were talking about some murder,” Darcy said. “Somewhere around Second Street?”

“Yeah, that's on the other side of town. Their cousin Tony's a cop.” Brandon chuckled. “They're always finding out stuff the general public's not supposed to know.” He squeezed her hand and winked. “Don't worry. You're with Count Dracula, remember? Nobody in their right mind would attack Count Dracula.”

“But Kyle said there were marks on the girl's neck,” Darcy insisted. “Like vampire bites.”

Brandon slowed a little, guiding her around a break in the sidewalk. “Yeah, he told me, too, but I'm not sure you really want to hear about it. It's not the best kind of bedtime story.”

“Why not?”

The look he gave her was amused. “Oh, I get it. You
want
to know, but you
don't
want to know.”

In spite of herself, Darcy laughed. “I guess that's right.”

“Don't you have crime where you're from?” he teased. “Don't people ever get murdered?”

“This just sounded so …” Darcy thought back, hearing Liz's vivid description all over again. “Gruesome,” she finished.

Brandon's expression was hidden in shadows. “It
is
pretty gruesome,” he agreed. “There've been murders before, but nothing like this. Whoever did this had to be
really
crazy.”

“Do the police have any clues?” Darcy asked.

“Not really. And you can be sure they'll try to keep it quiet. This is a tourist town. They can't afford bad publicity.”

Darcy shuddered in spite of the warm night. “What kind of a person would do something so horrible?”

“Yeah, it's weird, isn't it?” Brandon paused a minute, thinking. “Like those marks not breaking the skin. They're just these two red dots, made with lipstick.”

“Lipstick?”

Brandon nodded. “Like someone just pressed it real hard against her neck, then bore down and twisted it. Like trying to put in a screw or something. And it's
deep
red. Tony saw it himself. Deep, deep red.”

“So they're supposed to look like bites?” Darcy wondered aloud. “Like someone—or something—
bit
that girl on the neck?”

“We're here.” Brandon paused outside the lobby door and fished in his pocket for the key. “You know … you're taking this whole thing awfully well.”

“The murder?” Darcy glanced at him in surprise, then saw his sympathetic expression. “Oh,” she said, half smiling. “You mean my situation.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “It's none of my business.”

She placed one hand lightly on his arm and peered up into his face. “It's happened so many times, Brandon. It's always so hard at first—especially when it's family I don't know, or even some of Mom's friends I'm not crazy about. I just have to try and make the best of it.” She thought a moment. “At least, this time it's someone intriguing. I mean, I always wanted to meet my Uncle Jake, and here I am.”

“Yeah.” Brandon smiled. “Here you are.” He held her eyes for a moment, then cleared his throat and led the way inside, taking her up a flight of steps hidden behind a door in the rear of Jake's office. “Well, this is it.” He ushered her into the living room, shaking his head. “Maybe having you around will help his sense of style.”

“Are you kidding—I wouldn't change a thing,” Darcy joked, eyeing the clutter, the shabby furniture, the half-eaten food on the end table. “It's so …”

“Jake,” Brandon finished with a grin. He hurried around turning on lights, then bounded up another flight of steps, reappearing again as quickly as he'd gone. “Everything looks okay. Nobody hiding in the closets. Oh, I almost forgot—” He picked his way across the messy floor and scribbled on a notepad that lay atop the TV. “My phone number. Just in case.”

“In case what?”

“Well”—he shrugged—“you never know. In case anything.”

“Thanks. And thanks for bringing me home.”

“My pleasure. Will you be okay now? Need anything?”

“Trust me. Solitude is one of the things I handle best.” She stood watching as he went back down the stairwell and hoped she sounded casual. “So … I guess … I'll see you around.”

He stopped, deep in thought, then looked up at her with a mysterious smile. “There's no telling
where
you might see me. Vampires can take the shape of anything they want. Good night.”

Darcy locked the door behind him, surveying the comfortable disorder with a sigh.
At least I can clean the place up while I'm here and earn my keep
. She straightened up as best she could, and then with the help of a kitchen broom and an old towel she got the place swept and dusted. Rubbing her empty stomach, she wandered into the kitchen, poured herself some milk, and scrounged three stale cookies from a nearly bare pantry.
Grocery store
, she made a mental note.
Healthy food. Cleaning supplies. Trash bags
.

She found her room with no trouble and smiled at the hasty effort Jake had put into making her feel welcome. The room still smelled musty from disuse, though its one small window was raised to the damp night air. The ceiling sloped down on all sides, making it little more than a cubbyhole beneath the eaves, but there were clean towels on the foot of the bed and red carnations in a jar on the table by the bed.
Dresser … chair … hmmm … no mirror.…

Yawning, Darcy set her snack on the dresser and started toward the bed, yet as she reached for the covers, her hand stopped in midair. It hadn't been obvious when she'd first walked in, but now she could see the bedspread crumpled in one spot near her pillow, a faint impression still visible.
Like someone was sitting there
.… Darcy lifted the covers and stared at the bed. Even the pillow didn't look quite right, somehow, tilted at one end and off center, not flat and even upon the sheets as it should have been.…

Frowning, she glanced around the room, an uneasy chill creeping along her spine. And then … slowly … she began to raise one edge of the pillowcase.

She saw the tail first.

Against the stark white sheets it looked like a long worm, thick and grotesque—and as Darcy stared in horror, the furry body came into view, stretched out so neat and stiff in her bed …

She screamed then, flinging the pillow, stumbling back against the door, trying to get away from the huge, brown dead thing.

She thought it was a rat …

But there was only a bloody hole where its head should have been.

4

D
arcy!”

The shout came from downstairs, and a second later Jake burst into the room, his face ashen.

“What is it? Are you all right?”

Unable to speak, Darcy pointed toward the bed and watched as Jake cautiously approached.

“Holy—” He broke off, shaking his head in disgust, pulling a crumpled handkerchief from his back pocket. “That's okay—I'll get rid of it.”

“Okay?” Darcy regarded him in dismay. “That's the most horrible thing I've ever seen! I was just getting the bed ready and—” She broke off, not trusting herself to speak, and Jake picked the rat up by its tail.

“Did I tell you I have cats? Strays, I mean. They come and go all the time. I must have left the door open.”

Darcy kept staring at him. “A cat? You think a cat did this?”

Jake faced her, the headless rodent dangling from his handkerchief. Darcy fought off a wave of nausea and clamped her arms around her chest.

“Well, what
else
could it have been,” Jake said smoothly, “if not a cat?”

Darcy looked back to the bed. “So one of your cats moved my pillow, hid that thing under there, put the pillow back on top, and spread up the bed again. You must have very talented pets.”

“Look.” Jake pointed to the rumpled bedspread. “See this? This means one of them—Lester, probably—made a little nest for himself. My guess is, he worked his way up under the covers from the floor, hid the rat, then laid down to guard it.”

“So where is he now?”

Jake shrugged. “Out the way he came in. What's the big deal? It's easy for a cat to slip in with the customers, and none of the basement windows close all the way.”

Darcy nodded slowly, her glance going back to the bed. The very thought of touching it made her skin crawl.

“I … don't mean to be a bother,” she said, and Jake looked uncomfortable. “It just … really scared me.”

“Yeah, well …” Jake sighed, shifting the rat to his other hand. “Let me get rid of this thing, and then I'll find you some more sheets. When I walked in and heard you scream, it didn't do
my
heart any good, either, let me tell you.”

In spite of herself Darcy smiled. “I thought you'd be late.”

“I had to get something.” Jake slipped out the door. “I'll be back in a minute.”

Darcy realized she was still shaking. She stripped the sheets, then opened her suitcase and started putting her clothes away just as Jake returned with a blanket.

“Sorry.” He dumped it on the chair. “I don't have anything clean. I'll go to the laundry tomorrow.”

“Don't worry, I can go,” Darcy assured him.

“Whatever. This is probably too hot, but at least it's something.”

“I'll be fine. Thanks.”

“Well …” He stepped back, his quick glance going over the room. “I've got to get back to the Club. I can't stay with you.”

“I don't want you to,” Darcy said simply. “I don't mind being alone.”

“You're
not
alone.”

Darcy looked startled. “But … you said …”

“
They're
downstairs.” Jake paused in the doorway. “You know. My family.”

As Darcy watched the door close and heard Jake's footsteps fading down the stairs, her bravado began to fail her. She went to the window and looked down into the darkness, fighting back angry tears. She thought of her mother, off on a European honeymoon with a new husband Darcy hardly knew … of Uncle Jake's indifference to the rat in her bed … of Liz's deliberate snubbing. She thought of the exhibits downstairs, the twisted faces and twisted minds lurking just two floors below.
Come on, Darcy, you're a big girl.… You're just lucky Jake's being as nice to you as he is.… After all, he didn't ask for you, and he doesn't know what to do with you—so what if he's a little strange? At least he's not a total phony like Mom, at least he's interesting, at least—

She looked back at her bed and shivered.
How could a cat have done that?

But she
wanted
to believe Jake's story, because why else would a rat be there in her bed, like a sinister omen … like a hideous warning.…

She stared hard into the night shadows, then reached out and slowly lowered the window.

5

T
he girl hesitated at the entrance to the alleyway.

She hadn't meant to stay so long after work, and now she was sure to miss her bus. Up and down the block darkened windows stared back at her from closed shops, and she gave an uneasy shudder. She'd take the shortcut after all.

Halfway down the alley she suddenly stopped. Something was blocking the path in front of her.

Through the gray mist it seemed strangely like a shadow, hazy and still.

The girl glanced nervously over her shoulder into wet, empty blackness.

The shadow didn't move.

With her heart hammering she squared her shoulders and started walking again, keeping her eyes straight ahead.

“You must choose,” a voice said in her ear. “It must be your choice.”

The girl gasped and jumped back.
My God, I didn't hear him coming, didn't see him move, how did he get so close so fast
.… She felt the smoothness of satin brush against her arm as he towered over her. She heard the soft rustle of material and saw the long, black cape swirling around his feet.

Staring, she tried to see his face, but his head was bent and his eyes were hidden.

“Look,” she said, but her voice trembled and she knew he heard her fear. “I'm meeting someone. That's probably him now.”

She raised a hand, pretending to wave, and felt fingers clamp onto her arm.

“Will you stay with me?” the voice said quietly.

And again she stared … again his eyes were hidden.

“Look, you,” she raised her voice, “get away from me right—”

“Will you?” And the eyes, at last, began to raise … the voice so soft … so persuasive.… “Will you—”

“Get out of here, you creep!”

Angry now, she flung off his arm and turned to run.

She never took a step.

He caught her so suddenly that she didn't even fight him, his arm beneath her chin, forcing back her head, his voice, his soft, calm breath trailing down her neck … lingering in her ear … whispering.…

“Will you stay with me in eternity?”

And horror flashed in her eyes then, as she realized—
finally
—what was happening … the cold, steel blade against her throat—the swift, searing pain—

And in the last second of her life she tried to scream.