After Dark (The Vampire Next Door Book 2) (24 page)

“Don’t worry. It’s small.”

“No. It’s not that. Oh, never mind.” She had tears in her eyes.

“You okay?”

“No.” She went to the sink to wash it.

“Not depressed again, are you?”

“No,” she sighed. “Don’t laugh at me, Rick.”

“I won’t.”

“I like you.”

“I know that,” he whispered.

“And I’m scared. “

“That’s okay.” He came closer, stood beside her, wrapped a clean dish towel around her hand. “We’re never in a hurry, unlike most people, we have more time on our hands. Come on, let’s sit down,” his arm came around her, pulled her along.

He sat on the couch beside her, he took her hand, unwrapped it, softly kissed her injured finger, held onto it until it stopped shaking. “Did I ever tell you about my sister and that cop? She’s very pretty, and she likes him. His wife died, he’s alone. Well, she likes him very much. I tell her it’s not worth it, because he’s terrified of her. Oh well, never mind, I’ll tell you about something else. “

Pavel’s horse stood above him, looked down at him as he slowly woke. He had been sleeping in the stable, and he stirred slowly in the darkness, breathing in the smell of hay and leather.

“Master!”

He sat up. “What? Dmitri?”

“Forgive me,” Dmitri fell on his knees by Pavel’s side. His voice shook. “I did not mean to wake you.”

“The sun’s weakness and the cool night air brings me back to the world.” He stood. “I suppose I must hunt again. No more little lambs. Are the two sisters gone out already?”

“Forgive me.”

“What is wrong? And get up, will you?”

“Master...Prince Mikhail...he went to the village to buy food, and came back to say there were soldiers, searching the village, and offering a reward.”

“Damnation.”

“When he was gone from here, I went into the forest to gather fire wood, and saw men on horses.”

“Did they see you?”

“I don’t know.”

Pavel let a breath out slowly. It sounded like a hiss. “Where are the women?”

“In the house, Master.”

Pavel left the barn and Dmitri followed nervously. The night air was cool and refreshing. In the distance he heard a deer prance through the forest. Later, he would take up his bow.

“Dmitri.”

“Yes, Master?”

“If you are going to follow me, I only wish you would—”

“Yes?”

Be more like Yuri. But how could he explain? “Oh well, you’ll learn. Come on.”

“I did something wrong?!”

“No.” He continued toward the house.

“Please! Do not be angry.”

“I am not, Dmitri. Have you eaten? Did they give you anything?”

“Yes, Master.”

“That is it. I wish you would call me Pavel. You may, if you like.”

Dmitri froze, stiffly solid. “You wish I would call you—”

“Come inside, Dmitri. You’ll get cold.”

Dmitri drifted in slowly behind Pavel. Mikhail was seated by the hearth; he looked up as Pavel entered and rose to greet him. “Pavel.”

“Yes, Dmitri told me.”

“I believe we must all go. They are looking for us. We cannot remain here any longer.”

“You are right. I’ll saddle the horses.”

“And Pavel—”

“Yes?”

“It is worse than that. They are searching especially for you, saying that you murdered the princess.”

“What?” he gasped.

“They are saying I helped you escape. If they find me, I will be hanged, or worse.”

“But the wench was ill! She threw herself down the stairs to cause herself to miscarry, to do away with her child.”

“She bled to death, so they say. Perhaps the accident caused it? I do not know. They are saying she bled to death, and they are naming you, Pavel, the vampire.”

“We have packed all our things,” Natasha announced. “We will take what we can carry.”

“But you are not involved in this,” he protested.

“I go with my sister,” Natasha answered. “And she follows Mikhail.”

Mikhail’s sister sat by the hearth, silently watching Pavel and the two women. Pavel wondered about her, about her silence. Perhaps he would try at conversation later. “Perhaps we will find a stray pig on the side of the road, sisters. Let us go. I have a small home, far away. You are all welcome.”

Alexandra gazed blankly in Leon’s direction. She was not looking at him, but her eyes simply aimed for the dark wood paneling on the wall he stood by.

“Almost closing time,” he said, and he almost felt exhausted himself. “What’s a matter?” he wiped down the counter one final time.

“I don’t like how Martin’s been behaving lately,” she said simply.

“He’s not good enough for you anyway. Look, you deserve better, and he ain’t it. He drinks, he’s stupid, he’s just no good.” He folded up the rag neatly and put it away.

“What was the word he used, the last time he stumbled in drunk? Not this time, the last time, when I saw him in the hallway. He called me a—”

“Hey, don’t do this to yourself.”

“I never went near him, just asked him over once or twice. Once when he was sober, he came in, stayed ten minutes, nice place you got here, see you, bye.”

“So, he’s an idiot. Tried to pull a gun on Rick.”

“I heard.”

“Look, it’s getting light out.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“No, drop on my couch, everyone else does.” Leon stayed in a small apartment on the top floor. “Everyone except Martin.”

Alexandra stared up at the paint on the cracked white ceiling and sighed. Leon had already closed the curtains and was now turning the lights off. “Hey, I’d ask if I could get you anything, but I know there’s nothin’ I could get you.” It was a foolish thing to say, and he knew it. He wandered around the apartment in his white cotton shirt, faded jeans, and bare feet. He kept talking through the silence, as if to keep himself company. “Yeah, hey, you know, I was telling Rick the other night, I get almost jealous of you guys, like, when I’m forty, I’ll be fat, slow, stinky.”

She sighed again, let her soft whispering breath out slowly.

“Come on, you’re not still upset over him, are you?”

“No,” she lied.

He drifted slowly to her side, knelt by the couch. In the semi-darkness he watched as a tear drifted down the side of her dove white face. He gently brushed it away.

“You’re so beautiful, if he only knew.”

“I don’t care.” She sat up. “I don’t care anymore. Not about him.”

“Then about what?” He gently pulled at the ends of her golden hair. “Somebody else?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “But he’s too young for me. I mean, I just don’t think it’s right.”

“What if he doesn’t care about that? What if he’s always admired you from a distance?”

Leon awakened on the floor. The skin on his throat felt of dried blood. He looked up, sunlight poured its golden light under the curtains, striping across the bare wooden floor.

He remembered.

He remembered melting into her warmth, then the freefall vortex of darkness as she fed from him. He fell back, flat on the floor, only aware of the sensation of her next to him, satisfying her never ending thirst. Only aware that he didn’t ever want her to stop. But she did stop, finally, though he was never aware of when. He remembered her hand falling off the couch, brushing against his throbbing wound, caressing his bloodied throat. Then there was silence as she slept, cold silence.

He sat up weakly, then found his strength, looked at the reddened tips of her fingers, her bloodied lips. He pulled a pillow off the couch, the one that was by her feet, she would never know it was gone. He rested his head on it and slept the day.

It was night again; he sat up, startled. There was a blanket over him. “I went to get you some food.”

“What? You’re still here?”

“Of course. I’m not going to leave you cold.” She flipped on a light. “You were right, who needs him.”

“Turn it off.”

“Don’t want it?” she shut it off.

“I’m just so used to the dark now,” the suddenness of the light stung his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve gotten used to the dark.” He rested back on the floor. “It takes you down with it, pulls you in, swallows you up,” to leap into the darkness, and return to life.

She laughed quietly. “I’ve got to go, I’ll tell them you might be late,” but she would not tell them why. “Oh Leon, what did we do?”

It was a cool night, but it was warm in the truck. The three boys sat inside finishing the fried chicken. It was the only meal they had all day. “Sorry kids, like I told your friend Bruce, I don’t deliver pizza.”

“Why not?” Jimmy demanded with a mouth full of food.

“Because it stinks,” Rick climbed up on the front bumper, sat on the rusted hood of the old truck.

“Huh?”

“Because the closest pizza place stinks. It has this atmosphere about it. It’s the garlic. I don’t like the way it smells.” He looked down at the dark pavement, listened as Rufus sipped his coke.

“So, you really don’t like that stuff?” Jimmy did all of the talking.

“Don’t like anything that smells bad. Say, when was the last time you kids had a bath?”

“This guy brought us into his hotel room few days ago, let us use his shower afterwards. We made some money that night too.”

“Don’t give me no details, okay?”

“But that was a few days ago, business has been slow. I dunno why. Hey, that’s a nice car.”

“Thanks,” the Catalina was parked under the concrete bridge, beside the truck.

“You got lotsa money?”

“Jimmy, I do not hire kids for that kind of stuff, okay?”

“No. I mean, just asking you, that’s all.”

“Well, it’s not your business how much I’ve got,” which was probably much less than the kids believed he had. Again, he stared at the ground, at the truck’s long ago blown out tire, the smashed bottles on the pavement.

“Hey, Rick?” Jimmy was extremely talkative that night.

“Yeah?”

“How come you even need a car?”

“Come again?”

“How come you got a car? I mean, like, can’t you just—”

“What?”

“Like, okay, we snuck into the cinema last month, right—”

“No, I don’t fly, levitate, teleport, or whatever they call it. Besides, without this big car, how would I deliver all this fried chicken to all the street kids all night long?”

Jimmy was disappointed. “Like, I just always wanted to see that.”

“No, but if you’re that interested, it so happens that during the sixties, I knew of some hippies who could fly sometimes,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“Yeah?” Jimmy wasn’t quite sure what he meant.

“Oh, yeah, they could fly around the whole world, time travel, see the green people from Uranus.”

“Huh?”

“Come on, get serious, will you?”

“You mean you really can’t?”

“No, sorry.”

One of the boys whispered something, and Rick heard most of it.

“Charlie says—”

“No, tell Charlie I really can’t do that either.”

“Hey.”

“Well, I can hear everything that goes on even when you try to be quiet, and I see in the dark, but that’s about it. Reality is pretty dull, isn’t it?”

The boys were now silent, even Jimmy.

“Look,” Rick started, “I believe you about the cops. I really do.”

Still they remained silent.

“Kids, there is a safe place to sleep, and eat. No strings attached, really.” He got down from the truck. “You know where it is. It’s still okay. Be here tomorrow, I’ll bring more food. And let me know if you hear anything else.” He left.

Oh crap, they’re doing this again
. Martin watched in disgust.

“Once again, we are here with Zontar, Messenger from the Higher Realm,” Shauna faced the camera and spoke with an excited smile into her microphone. “And he is here to rescue our beautiful resort town from the dark forces of evil!”

“Thank you, Shauna.” The tall man leaned to speak into the microphone. “There is a great deal of very, very negative energy surrounding this location.”

The afternoon sun was hot, and Martin squinted to gaze at the strange sight. Zontar’s powder blue tights were worn close to the skin, and many women in the surrounding crowd stared. He also wore a white, loose fitting tunic, and again the heavy medallion. And most noticeable was his long, wavy, golden hair.

Martin couldn’t stand anymore of it.

“Somebody ought to just shoot this jackass,” whispered McMurphy from behind.

“Huh? Oh, hey,” Martin mumbled quietly, “I didn’t see you.”

“So!” McMurphy took a deep and deliberate breath, ready to change the subject. “Rumor is you’re still looking into things, unofficially.”

“I dunno,” Martin didn’t want to talk about it. “Naw. Why bother? Lost cause, right? I’m just standing here, watching the show, like everybody else is.”

“Yeah? Did you get much out of that strange broad?”

“Broad?” He didn’t completely understand.

“Yeah, like, ’cause I heard you talkin’ to Stephanopoulos about it the other day.”

Martin believed Joe was the only one left who probably did not think of him as a wash out or a useless drunk. And he was the only one Martin really talked to now. “Oh, you mean the girl who hangs out with—”

“Yeah, her.”

“Oh, she didn’t know much. Just hangs around because she likes that guy, that’s all.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I know. A girl with strange tastes in men.”

“She needs to be punished for that.”

“McMurphy, don’t start. Okay?” He knew he shouldn’t have said anything.

“Hanging around those freaks. I don’t like it, Martin.”

“Hey, come on. Someone will hear you,” but it wasn’t likely. The crowd was focused on Zontar now. Martin knew that McMurphy just hated women in general. And he wondered what happened to Rhonda. Knowing McMurphy, he probably wasn’t too supportive.

“She gotta be punished,” he hissed.

“Hey, will you watch the stupid show and be quiet,” but Martin watched as the tall, heavily built man stalked silently away, down the alley behind the New Age Shoppe; he drifted into the shadows. Good riddance.

Martin leaned against the building and tried to force himself to relax, he exhaled. The store he leaned against sold herbs, crystals, amulets, and other assorted fantasy items. He wondered who would buy such useless crap. Probably the followers of Zontar from the Higher Realm.