Night Prayers (18 page)

As a Cradle-Catholic she was of the firm belief that if someone
thought
they couldn't get in they wouldn't try— a philosophy that undoubtedly cut down the Mackerel-Snapping population in Heaven by half. Mica, on the other hand, knew that all men were sinners looking for redemption.

Or anything else they could lay their hands on.

"Good heavens, it's almost morning," Mrs. B yawned and Mica joined her for a quick one. "Oh my… Did you have a date?"

There was so much
hope
in the old lady's voice that Mica couldn't help smiling. Having no children of her own, she'd recently begun looking at him to provide for her Grandmotherly needs.

"No, ma'am,"
Sorry
. "Just met a new dancer, 's all."

Mrs. B's next few questions came as fast as a chicken going after a June bug.

"Is she pretty?"

She was beautiful. An angel
. "Yes, ma'am."

"Smart?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Are you going to ask her out?"

The June bug went down kicking and screaming.

"I — I just
met
her tonight, Mrs. B."

"That's what you said. Are you going to ask her out?"

Mica was suddenly aware of how light it was getting. Another couple of inches and the sun would crest the horizon of roofs and the old lady would be able to see the blood-red blush on his cheeks.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, "I think I will."

"Good! Too much of anything, even
God
, isn't healthy." Spoken like a true Papist. "But it's way too early to give you the third degree now… plan on dinner tonight and I'll beat the details out of you. All right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good, I'll make big salads and we can watch the hookers." Her pale outline left the window and disappeared back into the dark bedroom. "
G'morning
, dear. Sleep tight."

"You, too, Mrs. B," Mica said, turning toward the trailer and his unmade but comfortable pull down bed
— images of dreams not yet born already forming on the back of his eyes. "And don't let the bed bugs bite."

"Oh sure." Her voice followed him up the narrow driveway. "I have so little blood left who'd want to bite me?"

Allison.

Allison opened one eye and moaned. The effect — considering she was in a closed coffin
— was enough to send shivers down her own spine.

She'd thought being dead would make getting up easier.

It didn't.

If anything it made it more difficult. Once — three weeks ago — all it took was a decently good cup of coffee to get her blood pumping. Now, not even Draino would do the trick.

God, she hated being dead and Seth and being a vampire and having to sleep in a coffin and
—

The noise that "woke" her came again. Three gentle rappings…
rappings at my chamber door. Quote the Raven
—

"Go the fuck away!"

Wakey, wakey
. Luci's voice sounded disgustingly perky for someone who had spent the better part of the pre-dawn hours draining a man from both ends.

"Ah, shit."

Well…we really don't have to anymore. But whatever turns you on.

Allison unclasped her hands at her chest and thumped a knuckle against the pale pink satin lining. She was glad she'd chosen pink instead of the red Luci had suggested
— to match her hair. Shit, imagine waking up to your own personal retina hernia test every night… for the rest of eternity.

Luci knocked again and Allison pretended not to hear — pretended not to notice old feelings of claustrophobia by marveling at the workmanship of the coffin.

Her
coffin.

One phone call to the Dream Away All Night Mortuary (The
Embalmer to the Stars since 1923) and a VISA number and she not only had all the comforts of hone, but a twenty-five year written guarantee against seepage.

How thoughtful.

tap tap tap

"Hey, sleepy-head," Luci shouted through the polished mahogany lid. "You getting up or what?"

"
What
, "Allison yelled back and immediately regretted it. One of the features the hollow-eyed salesman
hadn't
pointed out was the acoustical value of the coffin. Of course, Allison doubted if
many
clients normally took advantage of it.

"Go away," she moaned, "and let the dead rest in peace, will you?"

The sterling silver hinges made a nails-on-the-blackboard squeal as the viewing lid rose. Luci smiled down at her and wiggled her fingers.

"No rest for the wicked, Alley-cat," she whispered, "I thought you knew that. Come on, up and at 'em. It's a beautiful day."

Day?

Allison sat up slowly, hands folded across the
Furverts Like 'Em Hairy
night shirt she was wearing. If any Breather saw her now it would take a few full years growth right out of them —
Dracula Rises From the Grave, the Next Generation
.

The club's store room "boudoir" was dark and silent. Of the four coffins laid out dormitory-style, only Luci's white "Snow Queen" model and hers were open. Gina's ebony black casket shuddered violently but didn't open when Luci reached out to smooth down Allison's hair.

"What do you mean
day
?" Allison asked as she blinked into full consciousness.

"Day," Luci answered, "You know, the opposite of night? The bright stuff Breathers like to lay out in during the summer. Blue skies, sunshine…
day
."

Allison scooted her rump over the cushiony soft padding and was about to say "ha, ha, really funny" when she noticed the shimmering golden light oozing around the room's heavy velvet drapes.

Delight.

Allison grabbed the coffin's side and jammed herself back in. "Close the lid!"

"Who do I look like — Señor Wences?" Tossing her head, Luci snapped open the remaining clasps and propped the lid up the rest of the way. "Now, get your little ass out before I dump it out."

Luci lifted the coffin a loot off its twin saw-horse dais and rattled it.

Proof she could do exactly what she threatened. Not that Allison needed proof. After the coffin was dropped off by two sweating men in Greatful Dead tee-shirts, Luci had picked it up and tucked it under her arm like a pocket book.

"But… Look, okay, I don't know a whole hell of a lot about all this, but you
can't
tell me that vampires can go out in the daylight." Allison sat up as the coffin came to rest. "Every fucking legend maintains the fact that one of the known ways to destroy a vampire is to expose it to the cleansing rays of the sun."

Luci stepped back and played with the marabou trim on her black satin nightgown.

"What
were
you — a lawyer? Forget it. And forget what all the fucking legends
maintain
. Just get up and I'll show you how the
real
undead behave."

Mumbling under her breath, Allison threw one leg — gracelessly — over the side and proceeded to half-fall, half-slither to the floor.

"Ah… the dead rises from her tomb," Luci said — smiling as she watched Allison's nightshirt ride up past her hips. "But you
do
know you can just levitate out of those things you know."

"Now you tell me. Why didn't you mention
that
a minute ago?"

"Because you aren't wearing panties. Now, get changed. We got things to do and people to do them to." Turning in a swirl of shimmer and feathers, Luci walked to a small cupboard at the far end of the storeroom and opened it.

"Oh, and while you're at it, goose up the back door a little. Your tits are knock-outs but they make your ass look too small and we don't want you to look lopsided." Luci giggled while she rooted around. Allison could hear bottles clinking. "T and A, Alley-Cat… all juicy and ripe, that's how you catch a Breather. Non-breathers, too… sometimes."

Allison still wasn't used to hearing a woman talk like that… about her. While Luci's back was still turned, Allison dematerialized the nightshirt and "slipped into" something far less comfortable but much more familiar
— jeans, boots and a rose-colored western shirt with black piping. It was almost exactly the same thing she'd been wearing when Seth noticed her.

A million and a-half years ago.

When things
were
different.

"Well, yippee-ki-yo," Luci said when she turned — one hand on her hip, the other holding what looked like a mayonnaise jar. "And for your information,
real
cowboys never wore shit like that. Catch."

Allison amazed herself by snatching the jar in mid-air. A second before it smashed into her face. Luci just smiled.

"Now, slap some of that on all exposed body parts and we'll get this road on the show."

Allison unscrewed the lid and immediately felt her eyes water. "What the hell
is
this stuff?"

"Sun block." Luci's black negligee reformed into white hip-huggers and a Gold's Gym muscle tec as she walked over to Allison and stuck two fingers into the thick white goop. "SP 95. Not a hundred percent protection… your ears will buzz and it'll feel like your skin's shrinking, but you won't go up in smoke and that's all that counts, isn't it?"

Allison cringed as Luci smeared the viscose lotion on her cheek and — slowly — began massaging it in. Gina's coffin trembled again.

"I'll do you then you can do me, okay?"

"Yeah-right-sure…" Her skin already felt like it was two sizes too small. "Where did you
get
this stuff?"

"We have this crack-head chemist who makes us a new batch every month. He thinks he's going to be bigger than Coppertone." Luci's fingers smoothed the cream down the front of Allison's shirt. "Too bad he doesn't know how limited his customer base is, huh?"

When Luci's fingers continued to descend, Allison scooped out three fingers worth and pushed the jar into Luci's hand.

"It's okay… I can do myself," she said quickly — probably too quickly considering the look on Luci's face. "You… go ahead."

If looks could kill…

But it's already too late for that
, Luci's voice growled.
Isn't it
?

Shit.

Setting the jar down on the top of Gina's rumbling coffin, Luci walked over to the plain pine; box that held Miriam and tapped lightly on the lid.

"Miriam? I'm going to take Alley-cat window shopping. Yeah, there are a couple of things I want to expose her to. Don't wait up. Ready, Alley-cat?"

Allison nodded and followed Luci to the double-bolted, steel-reinforced door.

"Okay, Gypsy," Luci said suddenly. "Time to earn your keep."

The army cot moaned under the big man's weight as he rolled slowly to his feet and stood up. Gypsy's eyes were wide and staring as he walked to the door and fumbled with the locks.

"Is he okay?" Allison asked, watching the zombie-like movements. "Aren't
Watchers
supposed to gibber and eat spiders?"

Luci's drawn out sigh told her they weren't.

"He's asleep," she said, "but if a Breather so much as leaned against the other side of the door he'd be wide awake and swinging. Yeah, this one's a
lot
better than the last one. Big Mike had this real aversion to soap and water… that's why we had to keep him outside. Never could house-break him."