Part 29 (1/2)

”I'm offering-on the house! You've lost your ghoul, Ian. Listen, I'm not much of a guide-vampire, but I'll do my best. I promise you, among the three of us, we'll put a total, complete, and apocalyptic apocalyptic end to this.” And then I said something I'm pretty sure I'd never said to anyone else before, ever. end to this.” And then I said something I'm pretty sure I'd never said to anyone else before, ever.

I said, ”I won't leave you.”

Whatever was holding the sky in that amazing pattern of swirls and stars...it shattered...and the motion came to an abrupt slos.h.i.+ng halt. As if a carousel had stopped spinning, everything drawled back into focus, and into stillness.

The darkness quivered, and in a blink it was gone.

Ian Stott was right in front of me, seated on an overturned box or crate of some sort. Blood had splashed and dripped down his chin, over his hands. Red meat hung in globs under his fingernails. His beautiful, impeccable clothes were dirty and torn. He was missing a shoe. He leaned forward so that he rested his elbows atop his thighs, and folded his hands loosely between them.

Without looking up he said, ”Don't promise me anything.”

”We're in this together now, me and you. And I won't won't leave you to the mercy of...of...” I eyed the broken, torn bodies that lay around him in a circle as if he'd been a bomb that exploded. ”Yourself.” leave you to the mercy of...of...” I eyed the broken, torn bodies that lay around him in a circle as if he'd been a bomb that exploded. ”Yourself.”

”It's my fault,” he said, one more time.

One more time I said, ”It isn't.”

He put his head in his hands, but I wouldn't have it. I lifted his chin and I looked right into those empty gray eyes of his-their gla.s.ses long gone-and I kissed him because I didn't quite know what else to do.

It took him a minute to kiss back, but he did, and the taste of other people's blood mingled in our mouths. He put one hand on the back of my neck and drew me closer; I leaned into it, into him. His hand slipped down to the small of my back, then his other hand joined it-clasping me there, holding me in place in case I hadn't meant it.

We stayed that way until the crackling static of radios buzzed up to our ears, and we knew the moment was pa.s.sing, as all moments must.

I reached down for his arm and lifted him up, like I'd carry his a.s.s all the way down to the ground if he made me. ”Ian, pull yourself together. I think I see your other shoe.”

”I don't know where it went.”

”I've got it. Come on. Sweetheart, come on on. Adrian's waiting for us.”

16.

I waited perhaps two hours for David Keene to come home. During that time I made myself comfortable; he didn't have any security system to speak of-just a cheesy keypad unit that five seconds with a scrambler took down. Inside everything was unguarded and even unhidden. It was the home of a man who believed he had nothing to fear. waited perhaps two hours for David Keene to come home. During that time I made myself comfortable; he didn't have any security system to speak of-just a cheesy keypad unit that five seconds with a scrambler took down. Inside everything was unguarded and even unhidden. It was the home of a man who believed he had nothing to fear.

Of course, he was wrong.

I'd found him. And soon, he would fear me me.

I'd see to it.

But first I saw to his records-to his laptop, his desktop machine, and the drawerful of tiny thumb drives and CDs labeled with a Sharpie. I took them all, everything I could find.

Because the universe likes to tell stories in circles, I was willing to bet I'd accidentally scored myself some p.o.r.n in this catch-all sweep of the premises. That's how this began, after all-with me complaining about having too much other-people's-p.o.r.nography in my life. Yet here I was, emptying drawers and confiscating everything in sight.

Based on what I'd gathered about the man who lived in the sprawling mid-century ranch, I went out on a limb and guessed I was going to find some j.a.panap.o.r.n. Probably something with schoolgirls and tentacles.

When I was finished gathering everything and my trap was sufficiently laid, I set my go-bag down on the couch and dropped myself beside it. I thought about turning on the television, but that seemed like an unnecessary risk, so I didn't. I just sat there in the dark and I didn't move a muscle until I heard a car pull up into the driveway, and then footsteps on the paved walk outside, then a fumbling of keys and a turning of the tumblers in the lock.

I faced the door, leaning against the couch's arm, with my go-bag serving as lumbar support. I'd like to imagine that my eyes were glittering cruelly, or that I glowed and leered like some otherworldly beast. But I knew that when the man flipped on the living room light, all he saw was a pet.i.te brunette in black, with a face that meant business.

It was still enough to startle him.

I could've smiled at the wide-eyed confusion, or laughed outright at the way he froze-a prey animal caught in the gaze of something hungry.

I didn't. I only said, ”h.e.l.lo, Dr. Keene. Please, come inside. And shut the door.”

If the doc had possessed a lick of sense, he would've run back outside and made for his car. Not that it would've saved him, mind you-I'm just saying that's what a sane man would've done. Or maybe that kind of action is only for men who aren't accustomed to taking orders.

Dr. Keene did as he was told.

He stood there with his back to the door, keys in hand, un-moving. ”Who are you?” he asked.

”My name is Raylene. And I'm just your kind of girl,” I purred, striving for sinister and going for the gold.

”I don't know what you're talking about.”

Ah, that was a misstep on his part. He should've saved that grand denial until I'd asked him some questions. This guy was a total failure at a.s.s-covering, in every way possible. An innocent man would've demanded to know what I was doing in his living room. Guilty men open with excuses.

”Sure you do. You've spent a decade and change rounding up people like me, throwing us in bas.e.m.e.nts and leaving us there, or cutting us up for curiosity's sake, or for the sake of a government contract or two. This is a nice house,” I said. ”Can't imagine how you've paid for it.”

All the blood drained from his face. He'd been white before, when he'd first spotted me on the couch. But now he looked like death itself, chalky and slack-jawed, with a shock of reddish brown hair sticking up in surprise. Under his lab coat he was wearing the dullest kind of business-casual, brown shoes and belt, blue polo s.h.i.+rt.

To his credit, he nodded-a tense, terrified bobbing of his chin. ”I know what you are.”

”Good. But it may or may not interest you to hear that I'm not visiting on my own behalf.” I chose this moment to stand, and to glide across the low-s.h.a.g beige the poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d had picked for flooring. ”You don't know me, but you've nearly had me killed-or worse-several times over in the last few weeks. I've been trying to help one of your victims.”

He sputtered, ”Help? You...your kind. They don't help anybody. anybody.”

”Really? You know that for a fact, do you? Then answer me this: What am I doing, hanging out in your living room, having ransacked your home, if I don't want to help Ian Stott by giving him a little closure-or a little proxy vengeance?”

”Ian?”

”Don't act like you don't know the name.”

It wouldn't have done him any good. His face was a mask of guilt, but also confusion. ”You're the one he hired?”

”Not sure what you were expecting,” I said, even though I knew good and well he'd a.s.sumed I was a man. My greatest secret-an accidental secret, born of masculine a.s.sumptions and simply never corrected.

”I expected someone...” He hesitated. ”Taller.”

I said, ”I get that a lot.”

”But why ...? Why are you here?” he asked, so plaintively I could've almost felt sorry for him if I hadn't known what he was, and what he did in his spare time. It was plain from the question that he'd already figured what I was doing. He was only stalling, or wondering if he could change my mind. In other words, he was wasting everyone's time.

This didn't stop me from doing a little rambling.