Night’s Edge (6 page)

“I forgot to tell you,” Thompson said. “Sylvia left a message on my cell. We have a company meeting Sunday night, at seven.” It would just be dark at seven, so the vampires could attend.

“I’ll see you there, Rue,” Sean said. “And we can practice, after.”

“All right,” Rue said, after a marked pause.

Thompson said, “Good night, Rue, Hallie. Feel better, David.”

“Good night, all,” she said, and shut the door on both of them. She had one more bottle of synthetic blood, which she gave to David. She sat down in the chair while Hallie perched on the bed with David as he drank it. She tried valiantly to stay awake, but when she
opened her eyes, she found two hours had passed, and her bed was empty. The bloody towels had been put to soak in the bathtub in cold water, and the empty bottles were in the trash.

Rue was relieved. “You and me, Martha,” she said to the cat, who’d come out of hiding now that the strangers were gone. Rue’s bed looked better than anything in the world, narrow and lumpy as it was. In short order, she’d cleaned her face and teeth and pulled on her pajamas. Martha leaped onto the bed and claimed her territory, and Rue negotiated with her so she’d have room for her own legs.

Rue was really tired, but she was also shaken. After all, there was a human dead on the street. She waited to feel a wave of guilt that never hit shore. Rue knew that if Hallie had been by herself, it would be Hallie lying bleeding on the street.

Been there, done that,
Rue told herself coldly.
And all I got were the lousy scars to prove it.

As for the shock she’d gotten at the Jaslows’, a glimpse of the face she feared above all others, she was now inclined to think she’d imagined it. He would have made sure she noticed him, if he’d known she was there. He would have come after her again.

He’d sworn he would.

But it was funny that tonight, of all nights, she’d thought she’d seen him. At first, she’d imagined him everywhere, no matter how many times she’d called the police station to make sure he was still in the hospital. Maybe, once again, it was time to give Will Kryder a call again.

She imagined Sean lying in a coffin and smiled, just a curve of the lips before she drifted off to sleep.

Actually, Sean was on the road.

S
EAN HAD A FEELING HE WAS
doing something wrong, going behind Rue’s—Layla’s—back like this, but he was determined to do it anyway. If he’d asked Thompson to help, he had no doubt the younger vampire could have tracked down any information Sean needed on the damned computer. But Sean had never gotten used to the machines; it might take him twenty more years to accept them.

Like cars. Cars had been tough, too. Sean hadn’t learned to drive until the sixties. He had loved phonographs from their inception, though, because they’d provided music for dancing, and he had bought a CD player as soon as he could. Words were hard for Sean, so dancing had always been his means of expression, from the time he’d become free to dance.

So here he was, off to collect information the old-fashioned way. He would get to Pineville tonight, find a place to hole up until he woke the next night, and then get his investigation under way.

Sean knew Rue had a fear that ran so deep she couldn’t speak of it. And once he’d decided Rue was his business, it had become his job to discover what she feared. He had done some changing through the centuries, but the way he’d grown up had ingrained in him the conviction that if a man claimed a woman as his family—or his mate—he had to protect her.

And how could he protect her if he didn’t understand the threat?

While Rue rose late to have a leisurely breakfast, clean her apartment and wash her clothes, Sean, who had consulted his housing directory, was sleeping in the vampire room of the only motel large enough to boast one, right off the interstate at the exit before Pineville.
He had a feeling it was the first time the clerk had rented the room to an actual vampire. He’d heard that human couples sometimes took the room for some kinky playacting. He found that distasteful. The room—windowless, with two aligned doors, both with heavy locks, and a black velour curtain in between—had two coffins sitting side by side on the floor. There was a small refrigerator in the corner, with several bottles of synthetic blood inside. There was a minimalist bathroom. At least the coffins were new, and the padding inside was soft. Sean had paid an exorbitant amount for this Spartan accommodation, and he sighed as he undressed and climbed into the larger of the two coffins. Before he lay down, he looked over at the inner door to make sure all its locks were employed. He pulled the lid down, seconds before he could feel the sun come up.

Then he died.

W
HEN
S
EAN FELT LIFE FLOWING
back into his body that night, he was very hungry. He woke with his fangs out, ready to sink into some soft neck. But it was rare that Sean indulged himself in fresh human blood; these days, the sips he took from Rue were all he wanted. He pulled the synthetic blood from the refrigerator, and since he didn’t like it cold, he ran hot water in the bathroom and set the bottle in the sink while he showered. He hated to wash the scent of Rue from his skin, but he wanted to seem as normal as possible to the people he talked to tonight. The more humanlike a vampire could look and act, the more likely humans were to be open to conversation. Sean had noticed that interactions were easier for Thompson, who still had clear memories of what it was like to breathe and eat.

He’d written down the numbers and names from Rue’s book, just in case his memory played tricks with him. One of the numbers was self-explanatory—“Mom and Dad,” she’d written by it. “Les,” she’d written by another, and that was surely one he would have to explore; a single man might be a rival. The most interesting numbers were by the notation “Sergeant Kryder.” She’d labeled one number “police station” and the second number “home.”

Pineville looked like almost any small town. It seemed to be dominated by one big business—Hutton Furniture Manufacturing, a huge plant that ran around the clock, Sean noted. The sign in front of the library read Camille Hutton Library, and the largest church complex boasted a whole building labeled Carver Hutton II Family Life Center.

The tire company was owned by a Hutton, and one of the car dealerships, too.

There was no sign crediting the Huttons with owning the police force, but Sean suspected that might be close to the truth. He found the station easily; it was right off the town square, a low redbrick building. The sidewalk from the parking area to the front door was lined with azaleas just about to bloom. Sean opened the swinging glass door to see a young policeman with his feet up on the counter that divided the public and private parts of the front room. A young woman in civilian clothes—short and tight civilian clothes—was using a copier placed against the wall to the left, and the two were chatting as Sean came in.

“Yes, sir?” said the officer, swinging his feet to the floor.

The young woman glanced at Sean, then did a double take. “Vampire,” she said in a choked voice.

The man glanced from her to Sean in a puzzled way. Then he seemed to take in Sean’s white face for the first time, and he visibly braced his shoulders.

“What can I do to help you, sir?” he asked.

“I want to speak with Sergeant Kryder,” Sean said, smiling with closed lips.

“Oh, he retired,” called the girl before the young man could answer. The man’s name tag read “Farrington.”
He wasn’t pleased at the girl’s horning in on his conversation with the vampire.

“Where might I find him?” Sean asked.

Officer Farrington shot a quelling glance at the girl and pulled a pencil out of his drawer to draw Sean a map. “You take a left at the next stop sign,” he told Sean. “Then go right two blocks, and it’s the white house on the corner with the dark green shutters.”

“Might be gone,” said the girl sulkily.

“Barbara, you know they ain’t left yet.”

“Packing up, I heard.”

“Ain’t left yet.” Farrington turned to Sean. “The Kryders are moving to their place in Florida.”

“I guess it was time for him to retire,” Sean said gently, willing to learn what he could.

“He took it early,” the girl said. “He got all upset about the Layla LeMay thing.”

“Barbara, shut up,” Officer Farrington said, his voice very sharp and very clear.

Sean tried hard to look indifferent. He said, “Thank you very much,” and left with the instructions, wondering if they’d call ahead to the ex-sergeant, warn him of Sean’s impending visit.

S
ERGEANT
K
RYDER HAD INDEED
gotten a call from the police station. His front light was on when Sean parked in front of his modest house. Sean didn’t have a plan for interrogating the retired policeman. He would play it by ear. If Rue had written the man’s phone number in her book, then the man had befriended her.

Sean knocked at the door very gently, and a slim, clean-shaven man of medium height with thinning fair
hair and a guarded smile opened the door. “Can I help you?” the man asked.

“Sergeant Kryder?”

“Yes, I’m Will Kryder.”

“I would like to speak with you about a mutual friend.”

“I have a mutual friend with a vampire?” Kryder seemed to catch himself. “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to offend. Please come in.” The older man didn’t seem sure about the wisdom of inviting Sean in, but he stood aside, and Sean stepped into the small living room. Cartons were stacked everywhere, and the house looked bare. The furniture was still there, but the walls were blank, and none of the normal odds and ends were on the tables.

A dark-haired woman was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, a dish towel in her hand. Two cats rubbed her ankles, and a little Pekingese leaped from the couch, barking ferociously. He stopped when he got close to Sean. He backed up, whining. The woman actually looked embarrassed.

“Don’t worry,” Sean said. “You can never tell with dogs. Cats generally like us.” He knelt and held out a hand, and the cats both sniffed it without fear. The Pekingese retreated into the kitchen.

Sean stood, and the woman extended her hand. She had an air of health and intelligence about her that was very appealing. She looked Sean in the eyes, apparently not knowing that he could do all kinds of things with such a direct look. “I’m Judith,” she said. “I apologize for the appearance of the house, but we’re leaving in two days. When Will retired, we decided to move down to our Florida house. It’s been in Will’s family for years.”

Will had been watching Sean intently. “Please have a seat,” he said.

Sean sank into the armchair, and Will Kryder sat on the couch. Judith said, “I’ll just go dry the dishes,” and vanished into the kitchen, but Sean was aware that she could hear them if she chose.

“Our mutual friend?” Will prompted.

“Layla.”

Will’s face hardened. “Who are you? Who sent you here?”

“I came here because I want to find out what happened to her.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s scared of something. Because I can’t make it go away unless I know what it is.”

“Seems to me if she wanted you to know, she would tell you herself.”

“She is too frightened.”

“Are you here to ask me where she is?”

Sean was surprised. “No. I know where she is. I see her every night.”

“I don’t believe you. I think you’re some kind of private detective. We knew someone would be coming sooner or later, someone like you. That’s why we’re leaving town. If you think you can get rid of us easy, let me tell you, you can’t.” Will’s pleasant face was set in firm lines. He suddenly had a gun in his lap, and it was pointed at Sean.

“It’s easy to see you haven’t met a vampire before,” Sean said.

“Why is that?”

Before Will could pull the trigger, Sean had the gun. He bent the barrel and tossed it behind him.

“Judith!” Will yelled. “Run!” He dove for Sean, apparently intending to grapple with Sean until Judith could get clear.

Sean held the man still by clamping Kryder’s hands to his sides. He said, “Calm yourself, Mr. Kryder.” Judith was in the room now, a butcher knife in her hands. She danced back and forth, reluctant to stab Sean but determined to help her husband.

Sean liked the Kryders.

“Please be calm, both of you,” he said, and the quiet of his voice, the stillness of his posture, seemed to strike both of the Kryders at the same time. Will stopped struggling and looked at Sean’s white face intently. Judith lowered the knife, and Sean could tell she was relieved to be able to.

“She calls herself Rue May now,” he told them. “She’s going to the university, and she has a cat named Martha.”

Judith’s eyes widened. “He does know her,” she said.

“He could have found that out from surveillance.” Will was not so sure.

“How did you meet her?” Judith asked.

“I dance with her. We dance for money.”

The couple exchanged a glance.

“What does she do before she goes on stage?” Judith asked suddenly.

“Head up, chest out, shoulders square, big smile, pretty hands.” Sean smiled his rare smile.

Will Kryder nodded at Judith. “I reckon you can let go of me now,” he told Sean. “How is she?”

“She’s lonely. And she saw something the other night that scared her.”

“What do you know about her?”

“I know she was a beauty queen. I know she danced in a lot of contests. I know she never seems to hear from her family. I know she has a brother. I know she’s hiding under another name.”

“Have you seen her stomach?”

“The scars, yes.”

“You know how she got that way?” Kryder didn’t seem to be concerned with how Sean had come to see the scars.

Sean shook his head.

“Judith, you tell him.”

Judith sat on the couch beside her husband. Her hands clasped tightly in her lap, she appeared to be organizing her thoughts.

“I taught her when she was in tenth grade,” Judith said. “She’d won a lot of titles even then. Layla is just…beautiful. And her mother pushed and pushed. Her mother is an ex-beauty queen, and she married Tex LeMay after she’d had two years of college, I think. Tex was a handsome man, still is, but he’s not tough, not at all. He let LeeAnne push him around at home, and at work he let his boss stomp on what was left of his…manhood.”

Sean didn’t have to feign his interest. “His boss?”

“Carver Hutton III.” Will’s face was rigid with dislike as he spoke the name.

“The family that owns this town.”

“Yes,” Judith said. “The family that owns this town. That’s who Tex works for. The other LeMay kid, Les, was always a dim bulb compared to Layla. Les is a good boy, and I think he’s kept in touch with Layla—did you say she calls herself Rue these days? Les is off at college now, and he doesn’t come home much.”

“Carver IV came back from his last year of college one Christmas, two years ago,” Will said. “Layla’d been elected Christmas Parade Queen, and she was riding in the big sleigh—’course, it’s really a horse-drawn wagon, we don’t get snow every year—and she was wearing
white, and a sparkly crown. She looked like she was born to do that.”

“She’s a sweet girl, too,” Judith said unexpectedly. “I’m not saying she’s an angel or a saint, but Layla’s a kind young woman. And she’s got a backbone like her mother. No, I take that back. Her mother’s got a strong will, but her backbone doesn’t even belong to her. It belongs to the Social God.”

Will laughed, a small, choked laugh, as if the familiar reference sparked a familiar response. “That’s the god that rules some small towns,” he said to Sean. “The one that says you have to do everything exactly correct, follow all the rules, and you’ll go to heaven. Social heaven.”

“Where you get invited to all the right places and hang around with all the right people,” Judith elaborated.

Sean was beginning to have a buzzing feeling in his head. He recognized it as intense anger.

“What happened?” he asked. He was pretty sure he knew.

“Carver asked Layla out. She was only seventeen. She was flattered, excited. He treated her real well the first two times, she told me. The third time, he raped her.”

“She came over here,” Judith said. “Her mom wouldn’t listen, and her dad said she must be mistaken. He asked her didn’t she wear a lot of perfume and makeup, or a sexy dress.” Judith shook her head. “She’d—it was her first time. She was a mess. Will called the chief of police at the time. He wasn’t a monster,” Judith said softly. “But he wasn’t willing to lose his job over arresting Carver.”

“She shut herself in the house and wouldn’t come out for two weeks,” Will said. “Her mother called us, told us to quit telling lies about the Huttons. She said Layla had just misunderstood the situation. Her exact words.”

“Then,” said Judith heavily, “Layla found out she was pregnant.”

The buzzing in Sean’s head grew louder, more insistent. He had never felt like this before, in his hundreds of years.

“She called Carver and told him. I guess she thought something so serious would bring him to his senses. Maybe she imagined that his parents had brought on all his violence. Maybe she thought he would do right by her somehow. She was just seventeen. I don’t know what she thought. Maybe she wanted him to take her to a doctor, I don’t know. She didn’t want to tell her parents.”

“He decided to take care of it himself,” Sean said.

“Yeah,” Will said. “He lost his mind. Usually, he can act like a real person when other people are around.” Will Kryder sounded as detached as if he were discussing the habits of an exotic animal, but his hands were clasped in front of him so tightly that they were white. “Carver couldn’t maintain the facade that night. He pulled up in front of the LeMays’ house, and Layla came out, without saying anything to Tex or LeeAnne about where she was going. But Les was watching out the window, and he saw…he saw…”