In the Dark (22 page)

“I had a
feeling something was wrong.” I clenched my hands together.
“But it was more like you said. A hunch. A pretty right-on
hunch, but that’s it.”

Josephine
nodded. “You might not have fully developed it yet. You’re
still very young.”

“Ah.”
I bit my lip. “I feel like I have no idea who Kent really was.
I mean, he was in love with a murderer? And now he’s dead
because of something he did centuries ago. Why wait that long to kill
someone? Who would hold a grudge like that?”

Josephine shook
her head. “I don’t know. Kent caused a lot of trouble in
his time. I’d heard stories of him from others, before I met
him here. He was . . . not a nice man for a while. I must confess I
wasn’t exactly thrilled to find him on my doorstep at first. A
lot of people could be angry with him, and I’m afraid . . .”
she paused, then let it out. “I’m afraid vampires don’t
view killing the same way humans do. Humans can be taught to kill,
strained enough, insane enough . . . with us, murder simply comes
naturally.”

I didn’t
understand her at first. I was thinking of Kent, wondering whose skin
he’d gotten under, why they’d hate me as much as him.

She shrugged,
helpless. “I know. It’s paralyzing, to see that look on
another vampire’s face and realize they will kill you if they
can. I know,” her voice lowered a significant octave, “why
you couldn’t help me last night.”

Slap.

Only in my head,
but I still stared as if she really had decked me.

She meant it. No
sarcasm, no anger, no disappointment. How could I react to this?

I think I
want to cry.

Before I could
think of other options, my throat closed.

She hadn’t
said she forgave. She said she
knew.

“Oh, my
dear.” Josephine stood. I barely saw her float over to me
through the blood in my eyes, choking on sobs I tried to hold in.

“I’m
sorry,” I said, for the tears. They got worse all at once, when
I knew why else I needed to apologize. “I’m sorry,”
I said again, my voice more ragged. Her arms settled around my
shoulders. The hug felt very bad and very good at the same time.

“I’m
sorry,” I repeated. She shushed in my ear, rocking me. I stayed
rigid, not quite wanting to pull away, not quite deserving enough to
be held.

“I made
it, didn’t I?” she said. “You probably couldn’t
have done anything to him if you tried, but you moved at just the
right time.” She brushed my hair away from my face, then set
her hand gently against my sternum. “And I saw what happened
because you did. Thank you.”

I bawled.

Josephine held
me, and after a while that made it seem better than worse.

I cried until
the pain shrank back to manageable, until the tears slowed enough
that I felt like I could hiccup to a stop. She kept holding me. I
kept still, embarrassed, waiting for her to let go of me. She stayed
where she was, though, arms around me, until my embarrassment began
to fade.

“Better?”
she asked after a while.

Rubbing my sore
eyes, I nodded. I’d had enough crying for a year and a half. To
my surprise, she set her head against my shoulder.

“Oh,
good,” she said, breathily.

I knew that
watery sound in her voice.

I hugged her
while she cried, rubbed her back. And felt like more of a person than
I had all week. I couldn’t believe just hugging her would make
me feel better, but it did.

Once I felt that
– strength – she suddenly didn’t seem like the
hardest person to be around anymore. Not if I could give her this.

She didn’t
cry as long as I had. Almost like she’d done this before and
knew how to get through it faster. Maybe she did. At any rate, she
squeezed me once after a few minutes.

“I planned
to go home tonight. You?”

I nodded.

“You’re
welcome to stay with me,” she said. “I’d think it’d
be lonely at home.”

The house might
seem more empty without Kent in it. That didn’t matter as much
to me as just being there. Home. Besides, I could tell she meant her
home would be lonely more than she meant mine. As much as I felt bad
for her, I needed my own space.

“Why don’t
you get a hold of me sometime?” I offered instead. She needed
company, and after I had some time to think I would probably need
some, too.

She nodded,
offering me a sort of shy smile. Then she stood and offered me a hand
up. To my surprise, she leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek. “I
wish we could have met under better circumstances. Please call if you
need me. For anything.”

“You too.”
I tried to act like beautiful women kissed me affectionately all the
time. She squeezed my hand and left the room. With a sigh, I grabbed
my things and followed out behind her.

I found
Sebastian in the living room, standing in front of his dusty little
TV with his arms crossed. Watching the news. He leaned forward to
flip it off when I came in.

“Good
evening, Ian.”

“Hi.”

He waited in
silence for me to say something else. I poked my toe at a knot in the
floor boards.

“I’m
going home.” I had a feeling he knew that already. He probably
knew a lot more about me than I did about him. He would have to be
able to look at a person and tell things about them, in order to
guess the best ways to take them down. I hadn’t believed he was
a killer. I thought I had, but I hadn’t. Not until last night.

He handed me a
scrap of paper. I glanced down at it and saw a phone number in heavy,
easy lines.

“Call me,”
he said.

I nodded
distantly. “Yeah. We could do something sometime.”

He smiled
slightly, more of a twitch in his lips than anything. “You need
training. You are without your father. If you would like, I will
train you.”

There was that
word again. “Father.” It didn’t feel wrong, quite,
but not right, either. I thought about Kent racing up the stairs to
carry me away from the sun when I screamed. Wouldn’t any father
risk himself to save his daughter? I let it slide. I would need some
time to think about that one.

“Thanks,”
I said, slipping the number into my pocket. I wasn’t sure if
I’d call him or not. Maybe in a few days. I needed a little
time alone first.

“Tomorrow,”
he said, as if it had been decided. “Come once you’ve
fed.”

I blinked. Well,
why not? He had a point about my needing training. “All right.”

He tilted his
head in reply.

I called Gypsy
and almost burst into tears of relief when she came trotting out of
the back hall. I scooped her up, holding her close for a second to
hide the red wetness in my eyes until it cleared.

“See you,”
I said, and started for the elevator.

“Ian,”
Sebastian said from behind me. I stopped and turned around.

“Do not
assume you are out of danger.” My middle did a flip. “There
is the possibility he was not working alone.”

I shook my head.
I didn’t want to hear that. I wanted this done, done, done. “He
said it was just him. When he still looked like Emily. He said he
thought it was funny that you didn’t know it was just him.”

Sebastian’s
eyes flashed once. “Nonetheless, the possibility does exist. Be
careful.”

“I
promise,” I said. “I’ll call you the second
anything suspicious happens.”

He nodded once
without a word. I hit the button for the elevator. Maybe I belonged
to this creepy, unreal vampire world now, but I wanted a vacation
from it. A long one.

The elevator
hummed happily to the top floor, repaired while we slept. Daytime,
and for mortals, life went on. I got on, turned and held up one hand.
Sebastian nodded. The elevator doors slid shut.

I caught a cab
outside Sebastian’s place. Told the driver where to take me and
settled in for the ride. Wondered what to do once I got home. I
needed to take care of some things: the broken window and screens, my
car in that parking lot. I couldn’t bring myself to deal with
that stuff right away, though. I needed some time. Needed to process.
Needed to go through Kent’s things.

Maybe getting
the windows fixed first would be a better idea.

With a sigh, I
pulled out my cell phone. The “missed calls” icon flashed
at me when I flipped it open. I could guess from who. Dark Rage.
Wondering where their lead singer had vanished to. I ignored the
messages and dialed my mom. She picked up after three rings.

“Mom, it’s
me.” I paused. Sniffed once and then let it out. “Um,
Mom? Mom, Kent’s dead.”

D
oorbell.

I managed –
barely – to crack one eye open. The sun had to be high in the
sky, a lead weight holding me down. Too early to move.

D
oorbell
again. Didn’t even open an eye.
Go away. Nobody here but us
vampires.

D
oorbell.
Knocking. Damn persistent people.
Can’t answer the door.
Buzz off.

I
woke up at seven-thirty, about fifteen minutes after the sun went
down. I stretched, pulled myself out of bed and headed for the
shower. It had felt good the night before, and I needed something
that felt good. Gypsy stretched and watched me from the bed, waiting
to see if she should follow me to the bathroom or chill out where she
was. It was a nightly routine for us, one I felt sure she’d be
glad to get back to after the stay at Sebastian’s. If I
showered, I got my clothes out and left them on the bathroom floor
for her to lie in while I cleaned up. If not, she curled up on the
bed while I dressed.

With a quick pat
to her soft little head, I went to pick my clothes. But once I had
the closet open, I found myself stuck with indecision. For the first
time in many years, I found I really didn’t want to put on any
particular look. Nothing slinky – I didn’t feel terribly
sexy. Not the dark-and-mysterious stuff. My colorful raver clothes
seemed too attention-grabbing. I stared at all the options for a
minute, thinking about what a ridiculous clothes-hoarder I was. Maybe
I should give it all to the thrift shop. Finally I pulled out a
paint-smeared tee-shirt and jeans and slammed the closet shut.

I showered while
Gypsy purred. Apparently the stay with Sebastian hadn’t
affected her too much, even if I couldn’t stop thinking about
those few days. The way my cat just shrugged it off only made me
think about it more. The sudden thrust into a violent and bizarre
world. Following our old routine was getting back to another life. A
life I liked. A life I hadn’t wanted to deviate from in the
first place.

A human life,
I realized, as suds ran down my face. Yeah, I drank blood, but so
did a lot of mortals, and nothing else had changed until now. A
crisis in my world meant dealing with my parents coming to visit. Or
which gallery had turned me down for a show. Or Gypsy running off and
getting picked up by the pound. I’d faked being human ever
since my change. I hadn’t realized how much until now. Hiding,
starving, having people trying to kill me . . . that was being a
vampire.

No wonder
Kent told me it wasn’t always a good time.

I showered long
and hot, turned off the water once I had wrinkled up real good. I
brushed my teeth, examining my fangs in the mirror. Longer than my
other set of teeth had been. Even then, I’d seen mortals with
canines as long, joking that they were vampires themselves. I didn’t
have to feel my fangs to know how sharp they were. I’d cut my
lips and tongue on them all the time at first, talking, eating,
biting my lip while I thought. It took a few weeks to get used to
having such sharp teeth.

Gypsy followed
me up the stairs, ready for dinner. My stomach grumbled. I could use
some dinner, too. I hadn’t taken enough from Sebastian the
other night to keep me going for long. It had already started to wear
thin.

Gypsy didn’t
follow me into the kitchen. I gave her food bag a loud shake. I could
hear her bell, jingling as she trotted up and down the hall, mewing.
My heart fell to my stomach.

“Daddy’s
not here, Gypsy.” My voice sounded flat. It was part of the
routine to find Kent and say good morning after I got up. He would
give me a hug and Gypsy a pat. I filled her bowl and left her to
search. She’d get hungry eventually.

I had my keys in
my pocket – I pulled them out to make sure – and snagged
my wallet off the kitchen counter. I had to get the car sometime. The
little bit of money I had should cover the cost of a few nights in
the lot – but that would be all my cash. Which only brought up
another frightening subject. How was I going to pay for anything? My
paintings didn’t provide that much income, whatever I told Mom.
Kent bought all the household stuff.

With a deep sigh
I decided to forget it, promised myself I’d sincerely worry in
a week or two. Or whenever the money in my account started running
low.

I opened the
door. There was a face on the other side, someone at my door –

I screamed and
jumped back.

My sister let
out a short scream too. Bit it off and slapped a hand to her chest,
glaring at me. I shut my mouth and grabbed at the door frame. Stopped
myself from slamming the door on her. He was dead. Maybe he could
have looked like Amanda – short purple hair, ripped jeans,
faded tee-shirt – but I saw him die.

“You
scared the hell out of me!” I snapped. My hands shook so hard
my keys jingled. “Christ, Amanda! Knock, huh?”

She rolled her
eyes and let out a breath. It gave me a chance to collect my
thoughts. I also took the opportunity to glance up and down the
street and spot the little Honda Amanda had gotten for her sixteenth
birthday. I relaxed more.