Fearless in High Heels (17 page)

He’d done his own version of gothic chic with a pair of black leather pants, a fitted turtleneck shirt and black boots.  He’d gone double thick with the eyeliner tonight, and over his shoulder he’d slung a big leather bag. 

“Let’s do this,” he said by way of greeting, stepping into the room.

I sniffed the air as he walked past me.  “Did you have garlic for dinner?” I asked.

“No.  I rubbed raw cloves all over my body,” he informed me.  “Just in case.”

I rolled my eyes.  “They’re not real,” I told him for the millionth time.

“Says you.”

“Dana?” I called for backup.

“Hey, it never hurts to be prepared,” Marco argued.  “In fact, I’ve got a whole satchel of vampire hunting items here,” he said, digging into his bag.

I had to admit, morbid curiosity won me over.  “Like what?” I asked, leaning forward.

“Rosary beads, of course.  And a bible,” he said, pulling out a pocket sized version.  “And then just the essentials for killing vampires,” he said, more items coming out of his bag.

I looked down at a dozen wooden kabob skewers, a bottle of Evian, and a can of tanning spray. I looked up at Marco and gave him the raised eyebrow.  “And these are deadly how?”

Marco rolled his eyes at me.  (Yeah, seriously.  The guy in leather pants that smelled like an Italian restaurant thought I was crazy.)  “Uh, hello? Wooden stake to the heart, holy water, and sunlight.  The trinity of vampire hunting.”

I picked up the bottled water.  “Evian?”

Marco shrugged.  “Gunnar said a Nordic prayer over it.  It was the best I could do on short notice.”

“And tanning spray?”

“What?  It says ‘sunshine in a can’ on the label.”

“Okay, are we ready?” Dana asked, emerging from the bathroom, eyes super smoky. 

“Almost,” Marco said.  “I was nervous, so I drank the other bottle of Evian on the way over.  Can I use the little boys’ room?”

I pointed down the hallway.  “Be my guest.”

“Gracias,” he called after himself as he skipped toward it.

“What is all this stuff?” Dana asked looking down at Marco’s slayer kit.

“You don’t want to know,” I told her, fairly confident it was true.

“Maddie?” I heard from the bathroom.  “Help!”

Dana and I made ou r way to the door to find Marco bent over the toilet, his legs crossed.  “I can’t get this lock thingie off,” he whimpered.

Oh, brother.  I leaned down and looked at the plastic contraption that my mom had installed, trying to remember how she’d worked it earlier.  There was a button, a lever, a little red indicator window, and a latch.  I pushed the button.  Nothing.  I flipped the latch, and the indicator turned green, but the lid was still securely stuck.  I pushed the button and flipped the latch.  Nada.

“Ohmigod, I’m gonna pee my pants,” Marco whined dancing from foot to foot.

“Go use the other bathroom,” I said, gesturing to the master.

Marco bolted, running down the hallway as quickly as a man crossing his legs could.

“Maybe you need to move the lever?” Dana suggested.

I tried that, and the indicator turned red again.

“Maybe move the lever and flip the latch?” she said, doing just that.  But the lid didn’t move.

“Did this thing come with instructions?” she asked.

“This one’s locked, too!” Marco screamed from the master bathroom.  “I’m gonna burst!”

“Wow, your mom is really taking this baby safety things seriously. I’m impressed,” Dana said, nodding.

“Hurry, oh God, please hurry!” Marco yelled, pee-pee dancing back down the hallway.  “These pants are Versace, and I’m two seconds away from tinkling on them!”

“Okay, we can do this,” I said, staring the gadget down.  We were three smart, educated, intelligent people.  More importantly, we were all over the age of two.  We would conquer the baby proof lock.

I moved the lever, flipped the latch and pushed the button.  Nothing.  I pushed the button, moved the lever, then flipped the latch.  Nada.

“Ohmigod.  My bladder.  She’s gonna burst.”

“You have a female bladder?” Dana asked, giggling.

“Shut up. Don’t make me laugh!” Marco commanded.

“Wait, I think I got it,” I said, feeling the tip of my tongue protrude from my mouth in extreme concentration.  I flipped the latch, moved the lever, pushed the button and watched in awe as the little indicator window turned green and the lock fell away in my hand. 

“My hero,” Marco yelled, pushing me out of the way and unzipping his pants all in one motion.

Dana and I jumped out of the bathroom, barely getting the door closed before the sound of Niagara Falls hit our ears.

“Oh, sweet mother of all that is liquid, that is heaven,” Marco moaned from the other side of the door.

Well, as long as my baby wasn’t any smarter than Marco, I guess she’d be safe.

*  *  *

We managed to arrive at Sebastian’s without further incident and parked in the circular drive beside the other party-goers’ cars.  Marco shoved his hand in his satchel, clutching his rosary beads as we entered through the large, wooden, front doors, the sounds of music and laughter washing over us. 

The scene was much like the one Dana and I had witnessed the last time we’d crashed Sebastian's party.  Men and women dressed in all manner of black attire sipped drinks, chatting in groups, while a few couples made out in the shadows.  Minus the bloodsucking undertones, it was just like any other party in the Hollywood Hills that night.   

Only a killer was hosting this one.

“I say we start in Sebastian’s bedroom,” I suggested, gesturing up the winding staircase.  “It’s the most likely place he’d hide something personal.”

Dana nodded.  “Agreed.”

Marco followed a step behind as we ascended the stairs, brushing past a couple of women in short skirts, long wigs, and gleaming oversized canines.  We hit the top landing, then quickly made our way to the master suite Dana and I had found on our earlier trip.  I did an over the shoulder, making sure we were alone, then gently turned the knob.  Luckily, it moved easily in my hand and a second later we were inside the vampire’s private lair.

“This is so creepy,” Marco said, eyes darting around the room as if searching for signs of bats and coffins. 

“It’s just some guy’s bedroom,” I told him.  Though I wasn’t entirely comfortable with being there either.  Even if Sebastian was just some guy, he was a guy who’d killed two women.  The sooner we were out of here with the evidence, the better. 

“I’m going to take the bathroom,” I informed my friends, moving to the far end of the room. 

I passed through a doorway into a bathroom that was as big as my entire house.  Sleek black marble covered the floors while contrasting, white, subway tiles lined the walls.  The counters were a dark stone, supporting two clear, vessel sinks.  It was more modern than I would have envisioned for a gothic vampire, but I supposed it suited a fake one. 

In the absence of an obvious medicine cabinet, I started opening drawers, looking for anything that could be a vial of date-rape drugs.  I found a shocking amount of hair products, several toothbrushes, including one very sophisticated electric one, and a healthy supply of whitening strips. 

But no murder weapon.

I moved on to the cupboards beneath, coming up with the usual assortment of cleaning supplies.  Nothing out of the ordinary or, honestly, very different than what was in my own bathroom cabinets.  (Not that I could get into them anymore.) 

“Any luck?” I heard Dana call from the other room.

I ducked my head back out.  “No.  You guys?”

“Nothing,” Dana informed me.  “We checked the closets, drawers, under the bed.  There are no drugs anywhere.”

I pursed my lips together.  This was starting to look like another fruitless investigation. 

“This house is huge,” Marco said.  “Maybe he hid it in another room?”

I shrugged.  “It’s definitely worth looking.” 

We quietly slipped from Sebastian’s room, back out into the hallway.  I’m sure guilt was etched on each of our faces as a couple came up the stairs, the woman giggling and laughing at something the guy in another long, black wig said, but they seemed too engrossed in each other to notice us.

As soon as they passed us, Marco hissed, “Where to now?”

I looked down the hallway.  Six closed doors stared back at me, three on either side.

“I say we split up,” I decided.  “It’s the fastest way to search everything before someone finds us here.”

Marco bit his lip.  He stuck his hand in his bag again, fingering his rosary beads.  He took a deep breath and adjusted his turtleneck.  “Okay.  I can do this.”

We split off, each of us taking a separate door.  Mine turned out to be a library of sorts, books lining the walls all the way to the ceiling on one side.  Two large, leather chairs took up the center of the room, while a giant globe sat in the corner against the windows.  It had an oddly old-world feel that contrasted with the modern look in the rest of the house. 

Luckily, though, it was rather sparsely furnished, making my job easier.

I quickly looked through the few built-in cabinets beside the globe and shuffled a few books looking for any sort of secret hiding places, before ascertaining that the room was clean. 

I was beginning to worry that maybe Sebastian had disposed of the evidence this time after all.

I crossed back to the door and put my ear to the wooden panel, listening for voices.  Nothing.  The hallway was clear.  I quickly opened it, slipped outside, and casually walked to the room next door.

This one was dark, the lights shut off.  But in the shadows I could make out a double bed and a small dresser.  A guest room, if I had to guess.  While light would have made searching a whole lot easier, the windows of this room faced directly onto the circular front drive.  Anyone down below would have seen it go on.  So instead I blinked, adjusting my eyes to the darkness as I felt in front of me toward the dresser. 

I quickly went through the drawers, coming up with only spare linens, then began running my hands under the pillow and sheets for anything that felt cold, metal, or lethal.

I was just about to give up, having ascertained that the mattress did not have any secrets stashed under it, when I heard the door open.

I froze, ducking down behind the bed.

“Maddie?” a voice whispered, though it was so low I couldn’t tell whether it was Dana or Marco.

“Over here,” I said, relief flooding through me as I stood up.

Though I soon realized that the relief was premature. 

And that the voice had belonged to neither Marco nor Dana.  Because I knew for a fact that neither one of them would have raised their arm above their body as I watched the shadowy figure do, clutching something dark and heavy in one hand, then bring it down on the side of my head with such force that I fell to the ground.

I got a great view of the dust bunnies living under Sebastian’s guest bed for a half a second before I felt my eyelids fall forward, plunging me into darkness. 

Chapter Twenty

When I had found out I was pregnant, the first thing I did (after having a mild panic attack) was google what sort of delicious things I could now not consume.  I knew alcohol was definitely out, but I was surprised to find that soft cheese, raw eggs, and certain fish were also on the list.  Along with my biggest indulgence – coffee.  I’m pretty sure people all the way in Riverside County heard my sobs when I realized it was nine months of no Starbucks for me.  And the first day I had gone zero caffeine, cold turkey down from my usual three-lattes-a-day habit, I’d had a caffeine deprivation headache so horrible I’d thought that my head might actually explode.  My temples throbbed, my eyes burned, and my head felt twice its usual size.

But that, I realized as I slowly blinked one eye open, was nothing compared to how my head felt now.

I heard myself moan as I slowly managed to get both eyes open, blinking in the darkness.  I wasn’t sure where I was, but it was cold and moist, the air was damp in a way that instantly made me have to pee.  And it was pitch black.  Not a sliver of light shone anywhere.  I continued blinking, fighting through the throbbing pain with each miniscule movement of my eyelids, as I tried to get my eyes to adjust to the absence of light.  I gingerly moved my fingers, hands, legs.  All seemed to be in working order, though I could feel stiffness settling in my limbs.  I had no idea how long I’d been unconscious.  Or, for that matter, who’d made me that way.

“Hello?” I called out in a voice that could have belonged to a scared two year old.

I thought I heard a faint rustling sound to my right in response.

I moved toward it.  “Hello?  Is anyone there?” I asked, not sure if I wanted someone to be or not.  The last person I’d seen had hit me on the head. Not exactly ideal company.

I heard more rustling, this time accompanied by a moan much like the one I’d just made.

“Maddie?” a small, female voice called out.

“Dana!  Is that you?” I asked, reaching my hands out in front of me as I slowly moved toward the sound.

“My head is killing me,” Dana whined, her voice growing closer as I carefully crawled along the floor toward her.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I don’t know.  One minute I was searching through a bathroom cabinet, the next I’m here.”  She paused.  “Are you okay?”

I nodded in the dark.  “Yeah.  Ditto the headache, but I’m alright,” I said, feeling my hands come up against the fabric of her satin dress.  She quickly grabbed my hand, squeezing it in hers as if she expected the Boogieman to jump out at us any second.

Which, honestly, was a possibility at this point.

“Where’s Marco?” I asked.

“I don’t know.  He took the next door down from me.”

“Marco?” I called out in the darkness.

But only silence echoed back at me.

I felt Dana squeeze my hand just that much tighter.

“I’m sure he’s okay,” I said, more to myself than her.  “I’m sure he’s fine, he’s looking for us, maybe even going for help right now.”