Halfway to the Grave (11 page)

Stupefied, I stared at the money. This was more than I could earn in six months of waitressing or working the orchards. And to think I had been worried about draining my savings on gas! Before he changed his mind, I shoved the cash in my glove box.

“Umm, thanks.” What did one say? Words left me at the moment.

He grinned. “You earned it, pet.”

“You just got a big chunk of change yourself. Are you finally moving out of the cave?”

Bones chuckled. “Is that why you think I stay there? Out of lack of funds?”

His clear amusement made me defensive. “Why else? It’s not a Hilton. You have to pirate electricity and you wash in an ice-cold river. I didn’t think you did that just because you liked seeing your parts shrink!”

That really made him laugh. “Concerned for my bits and pieces, are you? Let me assure you, they’re fine. Of course, if you don’t take my word for it, you could always—”

“Don’t even think about it!”

He stopped laughing, but there was still a gleam in his eyes. “Too late for that, but back to your question. I stay there because it’s safer, primarily. I can hear you or anyone else coming from a mile away, and I know it like the back of my hand. Be difficult for someone to ambush me without my turning it around on them. Also, it’s quiet. I’m sure there have been many times the background noise from your house has kept you awake. And besides, it was given to me by a friend, so I check on it when I’m in Ohio and make sure all’s well, like I promised him.”

“A friend gave you the cave? How do you
give
someone a cave?”

“His people found it hundreds of years ago, so that makes it theirs as much as anyone can claim anything they don’t walk around in. Used to be a winter residence of the Mingoes. They were a small tribe of the Iroquois nation, and they were one of the last Iroquois still in the state when the Indian Removal Act of 1831 was put into effect. Tanacharisson was a mate of mine, and he chose not to go to the reservation. He hid at the cave after the last of his tribe was forcibly removed. Time went by, he saw his people and culture being irrevocably destroyed, and he decided he’d had enough. He painted his body for battle and went off on
a suicide mission against Fort Meigs. Before he did, though, he asked me to look out for his home. Make sure no one disturbed it. There are bones of some of his ancestors back in the far part of it. He didn’t want the whites desecrating them.”

“How terrible,” I said softly, thinking of that lonely Indian making his last stand after seeing everything he loved disappear.

He studied my face. “It was his choice. He had no control over anything except how he died, and the Mingoes were very proud. To him, it was a good death. One befitting the legacy of his people.”

“Maybe. But when death is all you have left, it’s sad no matter how you cut it. It’s late, Bones. I’m leaving.”

He touched my arm then, and his features were very serious.

“About what you told me earlier, I want you to know it wasn’t your fault. Bloke like that would’ve done the same to any girl, and no doubt has before and since you.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

It flew out before I could stop myself. Bones let his arm drop and he stepped back, giving me another unfathomable look.

“No, I’m not. I’ve never treated a woman in such a manner, and most especially not a virgin. Like I said before—you don’t have to be human to have some behaviors be beneath you.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just hit the gas and drove away.

I
T OCCURRED TO ME THE NEXT MORNING THAT
I had a few hours with nothing to do and money to spend. The combination of both had never happened before. Energized by the thought, I ran upstairs to shower again and get dressed. Showers were all I’d taken lately, since baths had proven to be slightly dangerous.

After a blissful trip to the mall, I was shocked when I glanced at my watch and saw that it was after six. My, how time flew when I wasn’t killing something. It was too late to drive home and give my mother an excuse about tonight, so I settled on calling her. I lied—again—and told her I’d run into a friend and would be seeing a movie and having a late dinner. I hoped whatever occurred tonight wouldn’t take too long. It would be nice to spend a weekend evening at home for once.

Speeding to arrive late anyway, I leapt from the truck as soon as I pulled into the familiar grotto. Paranoid, I’d taken my packages with me. It would be just my luck for someone to break in and steal my purchases, even at the
edge of the woods. By the time I’d sprinted the remaining mile to the entrance, I was almost out of breath.

Bones was waiting near the opening with a scowl.

“Took your sweet bleedin’ time, I see. Oh, but I suppose everything in those bags is for me, so all’s forgiven. Guess I don’t have to wonder where you’ve been.”

Oops.
Suddenly it occurred to me that arriving with an armful of presents bought with his money while not getting him anything might be construed as rude. Covering my faux pas, I straightened my shoulders in feigned offense.

“Actually, I did get you something. Here. It’s for…umm, your aching muscles and pains.”

I handed him the massager I’d bought for my grandfather, realizing too late the stupidity in the gesture. Vampires didn’t
have
aching muscles or pains.

He looked at the box with interest.

“Well, well. Five speeds. Heat and massage. Deep, penetrating action. Sure this isn’t yours?” That dark brow arched with volumes of meaning, and none of them therapeutic.

I snatched it back.

“Just say so if you don’t want it. You don’t have to be so crude.”

Bones gave me a pointed look. “Keep it and give it to your gramps like it was intended. Blimey, but you’re a bad liar. Good thing you manage to pull it off with the marks.”

Exasperated already, I fixed him with a scathing look.

“Can we get on to business? Like the details about tonight?”

“Oh, that.” We descended deeper into the cave. “Let’s see, your bloke’s over two hundred years old, naturally brown hair, but he changes his color periodically, talks with an accent, and is very quick in combat. Good news is, you can keep your knickers on. He’ll be smitten with you on sight. Any questions?”

“What’s his name?”

“He’ll probably make one up, most vampires do, but his name is Crispin. Get me when you’re ready. I’ll be watching telly.”

Bones left me at my makeshift dressing room, and I flipped through the dozen or so skank-wears he’d bought me until I pulled out a halter dress that almost skimmed the knees. Still too tight, but at least my boobs and butt didn’t hang out of it.

An hour of hot rollers, makeup, and high-heeled boots later, I was ready. Bones lounged sideways across the weathered chair, avidly watching Court TV. He loved the channel. Somehow, seeing a criminal get such a kick out of that program disturbed me. His favorite comment was that victims had less than half the rights of the offenders.

“Hate to pry you away, but I’m ready. You know, places to be, etc.”

He glanced up in mild pique. “This is a good part. They’re about to deliver a verdict.”

“Oh, for God’s sake! You’re worried about a verdict on a murder case when we’re about to commit one! Doesn’t that strike you as a little ironic?”

Suddenly he was in front of me, uncurling himself with the speed a striking rattler would envy.

“Yes, it does, pet. Let’s be off.”

“Aren’t you driving separately?” We never rode together, to avoid people making the connection.

He shrugged it off.

“Believe me, you’d never find the place. It’s a different sort of club, very particular. Come on, let’s not keep the gent waiting.”

Different sort of club. That was the biggest understatement I’d ever heard. It was far off the main highways, down a twisting back road that looked seldom traveled, and inside an industrial warehouse that was soundproofed.
To the outside observer, it was simply another blue-collar industry building. Parking was around the back with only one narrow way in or out between tall trees that acted as a natural gate.

“What is this place?”

My eyes bugged even before we approached the door. There was a line of people waiting for entry. Bones simply passed by them while pulling me along up to the female at the door who I assumed was the bouncer. She was as tall and broad-shouldered as a linebacker, with a face that would have been beautiful except for its preponderance of masculinity.

“Trixie, missed you,” Bones greeted her. She actually had to bend down to return his kiss on the cheek.

“Been a while, Bones. Heard you’d left these parts.”

He grinned and she returned it, showing gold incisors in her smile. Nice.

“Don’t believe everything you hear. That’s how rumors get started.”

We slipped through the door, to the consternation of the waiting patrons. It was dark inside, with low beams of reduced light making brief flashes across the ceilings, and immediately I knew what kind of a “different” club it was.

There were vampires everywhere.

“What the hell is this?”

My whisper was low and savage, because plenty of things here had great hearing.

Bones waved an unconcerned hand to encompass the general surroundings.

“
This
, luv, is a vampire club. It doesn’t even really have a name, although the locals call it Bite. All sorts of things come in here to mix and mingle comfortably, not having to hide their true natures. Why, right over there you have some ghosts at the bar.”

My vision swung to where he gestured. Damned if there
weren’t three transparent men sitting (sort of ) on barstools, looking for all the world like a couple of regulars from
Cheers
. Well,
Cheers Macabre
, maybe. The energy that vibrated off the inhuman inhabitants made my entire body feel like it touched a live wire.

“My God…there’s so many of them….”

And there were. A couple hundred, at least.

“I hadn’t known there were that many vampires in the
world
…” I went on in disbelief.

“Kitten,” Bones said patiently, “’round five percent of the population is undead. We’re in every state, every nation, and we have been for a very long time. Now, I give you, there are certain areas where you’ll find more of us. Ohio happens to be one of them. I told you it has a thinner line separating the natural and the paranormal, so the whole region gives off a faint charge. The younger ones love that. Find it invigorating.”

“You’re telling me my state is…a vampire hot spot?”

A nod. “Don’t feel too unlucky. There are dozens around the globe.”

Something brushed past, and my radar went haywire as I craned my neck to see who, or what, had just slipped by.

“What was that?” I whispered, having to press my mouth nearly to his ear to be heard. They were a noisy bunch of immortals.

“What?” He glanced in the direction I stared.

“That.” Impatiently. “That…thing. It’s not a vampire, I can tell, but it’s definitely not human. What is it?”
It
being of male gender, though I wouldn’t have been sure of anything, and looking human but not quite.

“Oh, him. He’s a ghoul. Flesh-eater. You know, like
Night of the Living Dead
, only they don’t walk so funny or look as hideous.”

Flesh-eater. My stomach heaved at the thought.

“Here.” He pointed to the bar. There was an empty seat
near the ghosts—or would the politically correct term be living-impaired? “Wait there, have a drink. Your bloke will show up soon.”

“Are you crazy?” My mind couldn’t compute fast enough all of the reasons not to do as directed. “This place is crawling with monsters! I don’t want to be an appetizer!”

He laughed low. “Trust me, Kitten. See all the normal people waiting to get in? This is a special place, like I said. Mostly vamps and ghouls, but also humans as well. That’s part of the lure. The humans that come here are handpicked or they wouldn’t know about it. They come to mingle with the undead, and even to get some blood extracted. Believe me, there are those who get off on it. Whole Dracula thing, y’know. But there is a strict etiquette here. Absolutely no violence on the premises and only willing feedings. Can human nightclubs say the same?”

With that, he melted off into the crowds, leaving me with no choice but to sit where he said and wait for my victim. How was I supposed to spot him here? It looked like
Creepshow
met Studio 54.

The bartender, a vampire, asked me what my pleasure would be.

“Leaving,” I snapped, then realized how rude that was. “Uh, sorry…um…do you have gin and tonic? You know…for normal people?” All I needed was a flesh spritzer, or a Bloody Mary the likes of which I’d never forget, to make my night complete.

The bartender laughed, showing teeth without a hint of fang. “First time here, honey? Don’t be nervous, it’s perfectly safe. Unless you leave with someone, of course. Then you’re on your own.”

How comforting. After assuring me the drink contained nothing more than regular gin and tonic—he showed me the bottles to allay my suspicion—I gulped it down as though it were a magic elixir that could make the whole
place disappear. It was delicious, better in fact than any I’d had before. The bartender, whose name was Logan, smiled when I complimented him on it and informed me that after a hundred years, one got rather good at the trade.

“You’ve been a bartender for a hundred years?” Goggling at him, I quaffed another healthy sip. “My God, why?”

A casual shrug. “I like the work. You meet new people, get to talk a lot, and don’t have to think. How many jobs can you say that about?”

How many, indeed. Certainly not mine.

“What do you do, young lady?” he inquired politely.

Kill vampires
. “I, ah, go to school. College, that is.”

Nervousness made me sputter. Here I was, having a casual conversation with a vampire in a club full of ungodly things. Where had my life gone wrong?

“Ah, college. Study hard, it’s the key to success.” With that advice and another quick smile, he turned away to take an incoming order from a ghoul across the counter. This was too weird.

“Hello, there, pretty girl!”

The voice made me turn around, and two young men grinned at me in a friendly way. From their looks and heartbeats, I knew they were human. Wow, what a relief.

“Hi, how ya doing?” I felt like someone in another country who met a stranger from her hometown and was inordinately glad to see people with pulses. They gathered around me, one on either side of my chair.

“What’s your name? This is Martin”—he gestured to the brunette with the boyish smile—“and I’m Ralphie.”

“I’m Cat.” Smiling, I shook hands with both of them. They eyed my glass with interest.

“Whatcha drinkin’?”

“Gin and tonic.”

Ralphie was about my height of five-seven, not tall for a man, and he had a sweet smile. “Another gin for the lady!”
he bellowed importantly to Logan, who nodded and brought a fresh glass.

“Thanks for the offer, boys, but I’m kind of…waiting for someone.” As much as I liked having my own kind around me, still there was a job to be done and they would hinder my plans.

They each groaned theatrically.

“Come on, one drink! It’s hard to be the fleshies around here, we have to stick together.”

The entreaty so clearly mirrored my own thoughts that I relented with another smile.

“One drink. That’s all, okay? What are you two doing here, by the way?” They both looked my age and way too innocent.

“Oh, we like it here, it’s exciting.” Martin bobbed his head up and down like a bird, watching as Ralphie again gestured to Logan for another refill.

“Yeah, exciting enough to get you killed,” I warned them.

Martin dropped his wallet when he fumbled for the money for my gin, and I got down to help him pick it up. They looked too gullible by half. Giggling, Ralphie handed me my drink with a flourish.

“
You’re
here. You can’t say you don’t understand.”

“You don’t want to know why I’m here,” I muttered, more to myself than to them. With a slight salute, I raised my glass. “Thanks for the drink. Now you’d better go.”

“Aren’t you going to finish it?” Ralphie asked with almost childish disappointment.

I opened my mouth to respond, but a familiar voice beat me to it.

“Sod off, wankers.”

Bones loomed threateningly behind them, and they gave him one frightened look before scampering off. He slid into the seat next to me after shoving its occupant
aside. The person left, unoffended. Guess it wasn’t that uncommon.

“What are you doing here? What if
he
comes in?” My voice was a low hiss as I pretended not to look at him for the benefit of anyone watching.

He simply laughed that infuriating chuckle of his and held out a hand.

“We haven’t met. My name is Crispin.”

I ignored the hand extended to me and whispered furiously to him out of the corner of my mouth, “I don’t think that’s funny.”

“Don’t want to shake my hand, do you? That’s not nice manners. Didn’t your mum teach you better?”

“Will you stop?” I’d passed the point of furious and headed straight into enraged. “Quit playing! I have a job to do. The real Crispin’s going to be here and he’ll be put off by your blathering! God, don’t you have any sense?” Sometimes he was too cheeky for his own good.

“But I’m not lying, pet. My name
is
Crispin. Crispin Phillip Arthur Russell III. That last part was merely a bit of fancy on my mum’s part, since clearly she had no idea who my da was. Still, she thought adding numerals after my name would give me a bit of dignity. Poor sweet woman, ever reluctant to face reality.”