Vampire for Hire (27 page)

 
      
 
“Prostitutes,” I said.

 
      
 
“And various child abuses that we need not get into here.”

 
      
 
“Let’s call it for what it is, detective. Child slavery and prostitution.”

 
      
 
The detective looked sick. I felt sick, too. He nodded gravely and dropped the unfinished donut in his bag. It’s hard to have an appetite for pink donuts when the talk turns to child abuse.

 
      
 
He said, “From what we understand, the children are used as...payments, of one sort or another.”

 
      
 
I nodded, and felt bile rise in the back of my throat.

 
      
 
Sherbet continued, “
Maddie’s
mother was no doubt caught up in it. And now she’s dead, apparently.”

 
      
 
“And little
Maddie
is alone,” I said.

 
      
 
Sherbet nodded and we were silent. He turned to me. “You making any headway on the case?”

 
      
 
“Some,” I said. I decided not to mention Aaron’s hot lead in Simi Valley. Mostly because I didn’t trust the police enough at this point to get
Maddie
out alive, wherever she was. I trusted Sherbet, certainly, but he was only one man, and Simi Valley was not his beat, not by a long shot.

 
      
 
“Let me know if you need some help,” he said.

 
      
 
“You bet.”

 
      
 
Sherbet was openly staring at me.

 
      
 
“What?” I said.

 
      
 
“I was just thinking.”

 
      
 
“Don’t hurt yourself, Detective.”

 
      
 
He ignored me. “It’s funny how suspects keep ending up dead on cases you investigate.”

 
      
 
“Whatever do you mean, Detective?”

 
      
 
“You were working an angle on the Jerry Blum case last month.”

 
      
 
“You know this how?”

 
      
 
“I have friends in the FBI, too, Sam.”

 
      
 
“Good for you.”

 
      
 
“You were making inquiries for your client. A Stuart something-or-other.”

 
      
 
“Stuart Young.”

 
      
 
“Whatever. Anyway, Jerry Blum has been missing for a month.”

 
      
 
“Maybe he’s on the lam.”

 
      
 
“Or maybe he’s dead,” said Sherbet.

 
      
 
I shrugged.

 
      
 
“Well, let’s try to keep the body count down this time, Sam.”

 
      
 
“People die,” I said. “Especially bad people.”

 
      
 
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

 
      
 
My son made a small sound and turned over in his sleep. As he turned, the black shadow that surrounded him turned with him. My heart sank further.

 
      
 
Sherbet patted me on the shoulder and stood. He looked down at me long and hard, and then left.

 
      
 
Chapter Thirty-nine

 
      
 
You there, Moon Dance?

 
      
 
It was Fang via a text message. With our super-secret identities now revealed, we had graduated from anonymous IM messages to exchanging our cell numbers and texting like real people. Or, at least, like teenagers.

 
      
 
I was still sitting next to my son. It was coming on noon and I was weak and sad and tired.

 
      
 
Hi, Fang. :(

 
      
 
There was a slight delay, perhaps a minute. Texting wasn’t as fast as
IMing
.

 
      
 
Why are you sad, Moon Dance?

 
      
 
It’s my son.

 
      
 
You mentioned he was sick. Is he not better?

 
      
 
Worse,
I wrote, paused, and then added:
He’s dying.

 
      
 
That was all I could write. And even writing those two words was nearly impossible. The words seemed so unlikely, implausible, unreal. More so than my own vampirism. How could my healthy, happy, quirky little boy be dying?

 
      
 
Outside the room, a doctor rushed quickly by. I heard shouting from somewhere. Two orderlies quickly followed behind. Doctors risked their lives more than people realized.

 
      
 
You would never say that lightly,
wrote Fang.
So it must be true.

 
      
 
I spent the next few minutes catching him up to date on my son’s health and the black halo surrounding his body.

 
      
 
There was a long period of silence from my phone, which I had set to vibrate. I adjusted my weight on my hip and reached out and stroked my son’s face. He was burning up.

 
      
 
The phone vibrated.
Do the doctor’s know what’s wrong with him?

 
      
 
They’re saying it could be Kawasaki’s Disease.

 
      
 
Hold on.

 
      
 
And I knew Fang was looking up the disease. I ran my fingers through my son’s hair for the next five minutes. My phone buzzed again.

 
      
 
There’s only a 2% mortality rate,
Fang wrote.

 
      
 
2% is enough,
I wrote.

 
      
 
I’m sorry, Moon Dance. I wish there was something I could do.

 
      
 
I was about to write to him, when another message appeared from Fang. It was simple and to the point:

 
      
 
Actually, Moon Dance, I think I know of a way to save your son.

 
      
 
Don’t go anywhere! I’m calling you.

 
      
 
Chapter Forty

 
      
 
I was outside of St. Jude’s, huddled under the eve of the main entrance, as deep in the shadows as I could be. Still, I could literally feel my skin burning.

 
      
 
I could give a damn about my skin.

 
      
 
Fang answered my call immediately. “Hello, Moon Dance.”

 
      
 
I found myself pacing, turning small circles in front of the hospital entrance. The automatic door kept sliding open. The information nurse working the front desk gave me a nasty look. I ignored her.

 
      
 
“Talk to me, Fang.”

 
      
 
“I’m talking,” he said, and I could hear the excitement in his voice. “There is a way to save your son.”

 
      
 
“What way?”

 
      
 
And the moment I asked the question, I knew the answer. Fang and I were deeply connected and I either picked up on his thoughts or intuited his meaning. I think I gasped and nearly choked.

 
      
 
“No,” I said. “No fucking way. I’m not doing it.”

 
      
 
“You read my mind, Moon Dance.”

 
      
 
“Of course I read your fucking mind. I have to sit.”

 
      
 
There was an alabaster bench just inside the shade that I would risk, and as I sat, I regretted doing so almost immediately. I could practically smell my burning skin, despite my long sleeves and heavy sunscreen.

 
      
 
I ignored the pain and buried my face in my hands. People were looking at me, sure, but a grieving mother outside of a children’s hospital wasn’t anything new.