Night Owls (14 page)

“Yeah, they’re the same.” They were back in familiar territory. She didn’t even know how to talk about college life, let alone poetry courses.

“So are they . . . ?” He struggled with the words. Started again. “Val said they’re what killed Professor Clearwater. And Helen.”

Shit.

Elly looked at Justin. His eyes were shiny with unshed tears.
What the hell am I supposed to tell him? “Yes, your mentor died a horrible death?”
She opened her mouth, casting about for a good way to hedge, hoping for a platitude to fill the silence. Or for lightning to strike her dead so she wouldn’t have to speak.

“Please don’t,” said Justin, softly.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t soften it. Don’t . . . Look. You don’t know me. You don’t have any reason to protect my feelings.” He scrubbed his hand beneath his eyes and drew a steadying breath. “I want to know what happened to them.”

“I don’t know if I . . .”

“Please.”

It wasn’t going to help him. It never did. She’d watched from below as they pitched Father Value off that roof. She’d heard them kill Helen Clearwater. And Henry . . . There were things burned into her brain from the last week that’d give her nightmares the rest of her life.

But if I hadn’t been there when Father Value died, I’d want someone to tell me what had happened.
It would have driven her crazy not to know. Things like that had a way of eating at a person; their imaginations tended to step in and make it even worse. She should tell him. It was his right to know.

She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “Okay. Yes, the Creeps killed them both. But we got a few of them, too.”

“How?” He pulled the paper and pen close like he was going to take notes. A small sound of frustration escaped his lips as he realized the futility of it.

“Hey. We’ll get them. I promise.”

“‘We’?” He looked dubious.

“Cavale and me. Your friend Val. They’re not going to hurt anyone else. Not on our watch.” It sounded more confident in her head. Hunting without Father Value’s guidance seemed wrong, like this was some sort of test to see if she
could
do it without fucking it up. But he wouldn’t be there at the end to praise or criticize, and she had to start accepting that.

Empty as she thought her speech had sounded, Justin nodded along. “How did it happen, though? I mean, did they swarm, or break in, or . . . ?”

So Elly found herself starting at the beginning, trying to show him how brave the Clearwaters had been, how calmly they’d both set about barricading doors and readying the small arsenal of stakes and knives Henry had kept locked away in the cellar. “Helen asked if we could draw some of the runes with sugar instead of salt,” she said, “so when a Creep crossed them it’d explode and the boiling sugar would stick to it. She said molten sugar hurts like a bitch. We didn’t know if it’d work, but . . . it did.”

Justin got that look people had when they were remembering something good about someone who’d died. She and Father Value had crashed more than a few wakes in the past, and she’d seen the same look on the faces of the bereaved. “Helen made candy,” he said. “She loved it, but it was just the two of them, and Henry wasn’t supposed to have too much sugar. So she’d bake things and send them to campus with him. There’s a joke that if you’re in one of his classes you don’t gain the freshman fifteen, you gain the freshman fifty.” He ducked his head. “If you were in one of his classes.”

Elly was hoping maybe the prelude had satisfied him:
Your friends died well. They faced it bravely. Let’s stop talking and wait for Cavale to bring Val and Chaz back.
But no such luck.

After a few deep breaths, he lifted his head. “What happened when they came? What did they want?”

“They wanted—” She stopped. How much had Val left out? Had she really not told Justin they were after the book, or was he testing her? Paranoia, never truly suppressed, reared its head.
No, stop it. He has no reason to do that.
She tried thinking like a vampire, to suss out Val’s motive for leaving Justin in the dark, but Father Value had only ever taught her to think like a Creep.

Think about it like you’re his friend.
Great, another thing she had no idea about. But it made sense: Val was his boss, and she seemed to like him. Every step she’d taken so far—bringing Justin here, trying to find a cure for him—had been about protecting him. Hell, even keeping her own nature from him was probably as much about sparing Justin a ride on the freak train as it was about keeping herself safe.

Then it hit her: that hungry look wasn’t only a need to know the specifics of their deaths; it was fear that he’d played a part somehow.
He’ll blame himself. That’s why she didn’t tell him. He finds out they’re after the thing in his head, he’ll think it was his fault.
Just like she thought it was her own, for bringing the book to them in the first place.
He’s going to blame me, too.

Difference is, I actually deserve it.
She’d brought the Creeps to the Clearwaters’ door. Henry had chosen to send the book away. Nothing Justin could’ve done to prevent that. Elly, on the other hand, could have just stayed the hell out of town.

“Elly?” He leaned forward. “What did they want?”

Tell him. It’s only fair.
“They wanted—”

She was saved by the kitchen door banging open, making them both jump. Cavale entered first, followed by Val, then Chaz. Elly caught Cavale’s eye and glanced pointedly at the clock:
How could you leave me alone for so long?

He seemed to catch her meaning, wincing and shrugging an apology.

Val reclaimed her seat at the table. More blood had seeped from beneath her bandage, staining the cloth a rusty red. Earlier, Elly had thought her thin. Now Val’s skin had tightened, the hollows beneath her eyes deepening until she looked almost skeletal. Her collarbone jutted out, sharp and unsightly.

Justin was halfway out of his chair. “Val? Are you okay?” He shot a glance at Chaz, who’d gone to stand in front of the coffeemaker, arms folded, the scowl back on his face.

“Don’t look at me, kid. She says she’s fine.”

“I
am
fine.” Val picked up a mug and sniffed. Its contents had to be cold by now. “Change of plans, though. It’s too close to dawn for me to go home for the night, so I’m going to stay here. Chaz is going to take you somewhere safe for the day, and probably through tomorrow night.”

“But I have classes. And I’m scheduled four to nine thirty tomorrow at the store.”

“You’re playing hooky and Chaz will get someone to cover your shift.”

“And you’re staying here?”

“Cavale has graciously offered me lodging in his basement.” She threw Elly a tired grin. “As long as you’re not going to drag me out into the sunlight once I’m asleep, that is.”

Elly shook her head. “No, ma’am.”

“Good. Justin, are you going to argue with me, or can we agree that missing one day of classes won’t kill your GPA?”

He’d looked ready to argue, but after a moment he relented. “I’ll e-mail my professors. I’ll . . . I’ll tell them I need a day to myself.”

“Good. Because I think you
do
need one.” She clapped her hands together and got shakily to her feet. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be dead to the world.” The cellar door was adjacent to the sink. The thumb bolt looked like it was probably the original, which meant it had been painted over every time the door got a new coat. Layer after layer had worked like glue, fusing the parts together. Elly’d toyed with it earlier while she’d toured the house and been unable to make it budge.

Val flicked it up and slid the bolt back like it was newly installed and well oiled. Flakes of paint drifted to the floor. The hinges screamed as the door opened and the smell of dank earth rushed up from below, the musty scent of an old New England basement wafting through the kitchen.

They were all quiet for a moment once Val’s footsteps disappeared down the wooden stairs. Finally, Justin cleared his throat. “Um, Chaz? Where is this safe place we’re going?”

Chaz grinned. “I’m dropping you off with the succubi.”

14

C
HAZ COULDN’T REMEMBER
the last time he’d seen the interior of Hill O’ Beans lit by early morning sunlight. His brain kept trying to fill in nighttime shadows, with ancient, white-haired Margaret behind the register and her twin Adele working the coffeemakers. He certainly didn’t know the two young women manning the counter this morning. They were probably students at Edgewood, like the majority of the small crew at Night Owls, but to him they looked
wrong
there.

Everything on the drive from Crow’s Neck back to Edgewood had been that way; landmarks that were usually draped in shadows looked alien in the pinkish glow of sunrise. It went with the territory of being a Renfield—you traded some of your own daylight so you could be available during your master’s waking hours. Chaz preferred sleeping through the mornings and starting his day around noon. He supposed others did the opposite, waking at sunset like their masters and staying up to watch
Good Morning America
and take care of daytime business, but he’d never really had a chance to swap notes with any others.

He didn’t care to, either. His brief glimpse into how the other half lived a few years back was quite enough, thankyouverymuch. Chaz’ impression of other Renfields—what little he could remember through the three-day haze of pain and mind-fuckery—was that most of them were obnoxious fucking sycophants. Most of them would have thought it an honor if their masters drained them to a husk and dumped their bodies into Boston Harbor.
You don’t get a trophy for being a tasty snack. Christ.
Now that he thought of it, getting rid of bodies was probably about as close as vampires got to defecating. He grinned. Val would appreciate that one, when she woke up.

The girl at the register must have thought the smile was for her. She returned it as she arranged the four coffee cups in a carry-out tray for him. Silver braces with hot pink bands covered her teeth. “You manage Night Owls next door, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’m usually on the night shift.” He peered at her, trying to dredge up some recognition, but nothing came. A good bookseller knew the regulars, and Chaz was usually pretty good with faces, even if they didn’t shop at Night Owls often. Still, nothing, not even a hit on the braces. “I’m having trouble recalling your name—I blame this ungodly hour.”

“Nah, I don’t think we’ve met. I usually go there during my morning break. I just noticed Justin out there in your car. He sits next to me in Western Civ, and he usually goes straight from class to his shift.” She tilted her chin toward the front window. “He looks beat. I’m not sure even a shot or six of espresso would wake him up.”

Chaz half turned. Justin was asleep in the front seat, head tilted against the backrest, with his eyes closed and mouth hanging open. “He’s had a long night.”

“I’d bet he’s had a couple of them. With Professor Clearwater and all.” She rang up the coffees and stuck a couple of chocolate croissants in a bag. “Here, on the house. Tell him Nadine from Dr. Forrester’s class says hi.”

“Will do.” Chaz dropped a healthy tip in the jar and headed out to the car.

At the creaking of the driver’s side door, Justin jerked awake. He accepted the tray and the bag of pastries blearily as Chaz passed them over. “How long was I asleep?”

“Maybe ten minutes. Nadine says hi.”

“Nadine?”

“From one of your classes. She saw you all conked out and drooling and sent me away with free food for you. Either she thought you looked like a kitten in need of rescuing, or she’s crushing on you.” The Mustang roared its way to life, and Chaz backed out of their spot. He saw Nadine watching them leave, and gave her a wave. “She’s cute. You should ask her out.”

Justin looked up from contemplating the croissants and waved in the same general direction as Chaz had.

“You didn’t even make eye contact.”

“I’m still half-asleep!” It showed, too. He stared down at the coffee cups and touched the lid of each, counting. “Four cups? Are Cavale and Elly meeting us?”

“No, they’re staying put. These are for Sunny and Lia.”

Watching Justin trying to make the connection was like watching the Mustang trying to start on bitterly cold mornings. He could almost see the check engine lights coming on in the kid’s eyes before the memory of where they were headed kicked in. “Wait, the succubi?”

“Yep.”

“Their names are Sunny and Lia.
Succubi.
”

“Yep. Well, no, but close enough. They said their real names for me once. I don’t really remember the next hour or two.” They’d told him he’d just sat there, entranced by a pattern on the wallpaper in their parlor, but whenever it came up, Lia and Val dissolved into snickers and Sunny succumbed to outright
cackling
. Chaz was just fine not knowing the specifics.

“Should I be, um. Worried, or anything?”

Chaz glanced sideways at Justin. The kid had turned bright red.
Oh shit, he thinks he’s going to be babysat by porn demons. Don’t laugh, don’t laugh . . .
To buy some time, he reached over and retrieved his coffee, settling it between his thighs to pry open the lid—the way you weren’t supposed to unless you wanted to risk burning your junk. But the Mustang was older than cup holders, and Chaz had yet to spill a drop in the ten years he’d had the car. Still, he figured showing amusement at Justin’s sudden embarrassment would be a great way to invoke karma, so he made sure his voice was steady and the hot coffee wasn’t hovering over his bits before he answered. “No. You shouldn’t be. Listen, I’m going to let you in on something about these girls, okay?”

“Okay?”

“Sunny and Lia are more interested in each other than they are in either of us.”

Justin’s brow creased as he puzzled that one out. “You mean . . . ?”

“Yep.”

“But I thought . . . I mean, aren’t succubi supposed to, um. Like men?”

“Technically, yes. And they do, I guess, but that’s none of my business so I’ve never asked for details. But you can stop worrying that they’ll spend the day trying to jump your bones.”

He let out a huge sigh of relief. “Okay, good.”

“You going to break out those croissants, or no?” It had been hours since either of them had eaten, and Margaret and Adele’s pastries were beyond amazing. Chaz’ disappeared in under two minutes. Justin ate more slowly, picking his apart in slow strips. He was at least being careful to keep the flakes falling into the bag rather than all over the seat, which Chaz appreciated. “Here’s what I don’t get. A guy your age, I’d think you’d be
disappointed
that you’re not in for a day of something straight out of
Letters to Penthouse
.”

So much for keeping the seat clean. Or the windshield for that matter. Justin spluttered, spraying crumbs all over the passenger side.
“What?”

“Just saying.”

“I’m . . . I’m not like that. That’s not, it’s not my, I mean . . .” He cracked open his coffee and took a scalding sip. They’d come to a four-way stop, and Chaz took the opportunity to get a good look at Justin. The red, which had been subsiding, returned in force. Now he was full-on crimson from forehead to chin as he mumbled, “I wouldn’t even know what to do.”

A car behind them honked. Chaz waved an apology in the rearview and got going again. You didn’t flip off your fellow drivers in Edgewood; chances were they were also your patrons. “Are you telling me you’re a virgin?”

“I, um. Yeah.”

“Weren’t you with Annie for like a year?” Chaz had liked the tall blond girl who, up until a few months ago, used to come around for Justin’s dinner break. Something had happened over the summer, though, and she’d stopped swinging by. Justin had never said much about it, though he’d filled the poetry section with a slew of really depressing collections after the breakup.

“Yeah, but we never. You know.” From the look of things, he was about to spontaneously combust, and boy would
that
ruin the interior.

“Hey, that’s fine. Nothing wrong with it. And? It’s not any of my business either.” He waited a beat, then winced as he added, “Listen. Sunny and Lia will just
know
, okay? And they’re going to find it endearing.”

“‘Endearing’?
Toddlers
are endearing.”

“They’ll probably give you some shit about it, but I’ll tell them to lay off. I just figured, forewarned is forearmed, yeah?”

Justin groaned and took another sip of coffee. “Anything else I ought to know?”

“One other thing. Do you still think of Annie a lot?”

“Sometimes, I guess. I mean, I know we’re not getting back together, but I miss her, you know?” He paused and eyed Chaz suspiciously. “Why?”

“Just . . . Try not to be too freaked out if one of them starts looking like her. It’s a succubus thing. They pick up on who it is you’re wanting and sometimes they react to it. It happens subconsciously for them. Especially if you still have feelings for her. It’s not a big deal. If you ask them to turn it off, they will.”

Justin gaped at him for a good thirty seconds before he found his words again. “Are you sure I can’t just go back to the dorm?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Seriously, don’t sweat it. They’ll probably stick you in their spare room, tell you how the TV remote works and where the bathroom is and leave you alone.” He pulled into the driveway of a neat little Victorian and killed the engine. They had arrived.

Sunny and Lia’s house was their pride and joy. They’d spent most of the summer up on ladders, touching up the paint. Lia kept a vegetable garden out back, and she’d lined their brick walkway with pots of red and orange chrysanthemums. It was cozy and welcoming, the picture of domestic contentment. None of the neighbors would ever have suspected they lived next door to a pair of demons.

“You ready?” Chaz leaned over to take the coffee tray from Justin.

The kid took a deep breath and plastered on an exhausted smile. “My boss is a vampire and I have some kind of evil spell stuck in my head. How could spending the day with a pair of succubi be any weirder, right?”

“That’s the spirit.”

The front door opened when they were halfway up the walk. Sunny came out onto the steps in a blue and white tee shirt that read “Edgewood College Athletics Dept.” that was three sizes too big for her. Her bare feet peeked out from the bottom of her blue plaid pajama pants. She was short today; Chaz guessed she was only a hair over five feet. Her skin was nut-brown, her hair thick, black, and bobbed. Huge chocolate brown eyes peered up at him from an otherwise plain face.

Chaz could feel the confusion emanating from Justin. Sunny’s appearance didn’t exactly scream “sex demon.” Chaz knew this face of hers, though. It was Lia’s favorite, and thus the one Sunny usually wore.

“Sunny, this is Justin. Justin, Sunny.” Chaz gestured with the tray of coffee as they climbed the steps. “Val wanted me to tell you how much she appreciates this.”

“Oh, please. Anything for you guys.” She stepped back, beckoning them inside. “Lia’s out for a run. She should be back any minute now.”

They followed her into the living room and sat down on the black marshmallow leather couch. Chaz deposited the tray on the glass coffee table and sat back with his cup. Sunny plunked down on the matching love seat across from them and took in their rumpled clothes and tired eyes. “No run-ins on the way?”

Chaz shook his head. He’d told Sunny the Jackals might be after Justin, and she’d insisted he floor it to get there. “None. Val says they go to ground during the day, and they don’t know that what they’re looking for is cozying up next to
The Complete Works of Christopher Marlowe
in Justin’s head.”

“Yet,” muttered Justin. He got that sluggish-engine look again, then startled. “It
is
what they’re after. That piece of Professor Clearwater’s book.”

Shit.
Chaz had told Val the kid wasn’t stupid, that it wasn’t a hard leap to make. She’d been hoping that exhaustion combined with the whole “my boss is a vampire and my handwriting’s been hijacked by some fucked-up spell” thing might distract him from drawing the obvious conclusion. With your average kid, that might’ve worked. But Justin was almost frighteningly smart, and, well, when a kid spends that much time thinking, sooner or later the brain was going to rejoin the party.