Chapter 52

4987 Words
If You’re Not The One There was Dudley, poised to cross the street going west while I crossed north. He stood there, wearing a brown fedora, waiting at the corner. If I crossed and waited by the lights, he'd join me on the corner. Except his walk sign changed first and he didn't see me, so he continued down the street while I stumbled after him. Earlier, I had decided I was not going to talk to him even if I saw him, but now that I had seen him, I couldn't ignore him. The attraction was too strong. Even worse, now that I had thrown caution to the dogs, I couldn’t catch up to him. The light was short and those crippling heels slowed me down. I didn’t even make it across the street before the pedestrian light turned off and I was holding up traffic. Looking up helplessly, I saw Dudley was already halfway down the block. I hurried after him, hesitant to call out in case Schroder heard me, but Dudley was getting farther ahead of me. Damn it! We were both on foot and I was going to lose him! He walked to the end of the block, crossed the street, and went into a lounge. Since he’d stopped moving, I had a chance to catch up, so my breathing slowed and I walked normally. Well, as normally as I could in those infernal wedges. Inside, the lounge was carpeted in beef jerky brown and the bar stools and booths were upholstered in the same brown cow. Actually, it was pretty ritzy. After the spider web chandeliers and red brocade of the last place Dudley took me to, it was hard to envision him patronizing a place like this. Scanning the dining room, I tried to spot him. He was probably here to meet someone. He was. He was in a booth with his back to me. Who was he meeting? I recognized her. It was Schroder’s maid—Jan. She was handing him an envelope and glaring at him fiercely. I took a seat at the bar, not three steps from them, and listened to the snippets of their conversation that came my way. “Three blocks from the police station!” she exclaimed. “Why not just come to the house?” A waiter went by and I couldn’t hear Dudley’s reply. “Whatever,” the maid said gruffly, leaning inwards to light Dudley’s cigarette. “It cost me two hundred and twenty thousand dollars to get this much information out of them. You’d better be good for it. I know the bank is fed up with your crap.” Dudley started to say something, but the bartender chose that moment to ask me for my order. I answered that I wanted tonic water, and sent the man on his way, but again I missed Dudley’s side of the conversation entirely. Just then a man entered the lounge and from his look, I was certain he was Schroder in disguise. He had a black beard and wore sunglasses large enough to cover half his face. Having figured that out, I kept my eyes forward. I didn’t want him to misinterpret my eye contact and think I was inviting him over. The only question I had was whether or not he would notice Dudley talking to his maid. The next thing I heard her cackle was, “Forty thousand isn’t enough to comfort those bankers, but I’ll take it from you just in case you’re tempted to spend it. And if you can’t come up with the rest, I’m sure I can think of someone who can cover your debts.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dudley grind out his cigarette. Then the maid excused herself without a care in the world. Schroder didn’t even look at her as she swept out of the lounge. As a matter of fact, he was making conversation with an incredibly attractive blonde woman who was sitting at his table. Where had he picked her up? Then I noticed he had taken his sunglasses off. That guy wasn’t Schroder. His face under those glasses was all wrong. I did another sweep of the lounge. There weren’t very many faces to choose from. The place was practically empty. There was no one here who could be Schroder, except… I turned to look at Dudley and found a pair of incredibly blue eyes staring at me. “His name was Dudley?” Schroder said, looking at me cruelly. He had another cigarette in his mouth and he was pointing at a silver lighter on the table with his eyes. I got up from my barstool and slid into his booth. I was an i***t. I didn’t see him from the front. I didn’t hear him speak. I only saw his back and I was so anxious to see Dudley. I didn’t think Schroder was intuitive enough to pull something so crafty. He had made himself look like Dudley intentionally to get me to follow him. It was the best disguise he could have chosen. “I know him,” Schroder continued. “He smokes too much.” I nodded miserably. “And you,” he said. Leaving his words like a threat hanging in the air, he lit his cigarette himself and took a heavy drag on it before going on. “Didn’t shoot me that night. When I took you back to my island, I found your gun. No bullets were missing. Pierce couldn’t have shot me because he wasn’t packing a gun that night, so I contacted Jan to see if she had seen who shot me. Who? Tate Dudley. Jan didn’t know him before the night he helped Pierce bring in my coven, but she knows him quite well now. She’s been on a few dates with him.” He paused for effect. “Does the news jolt your system?” I wanted to act like I didn’t care, but he had already heard my pathetic mumbling that morning, so I wasn’t sure if there was a point in pretending. “He’s probably just pumping her for information. You know, like the information she handed over to you. Two hundred and twenty thousand dollars? A little pricey, wasn’t it?” His expression of smug satisfaction faded. “She didn’t pay that much for it. She’s just trying to get me to top up her pocketbook since she doesn’t have a job anymore.” “I suppose it doesn’t matter to you what info she sells to Dudley. It’s not like you own her,” I said, wishing I had some bubblegum to snap. “And it doesn’t matter to you what Dudley does when he’s with her? Even though, from what you said earlier, it sounded like you were living with him.” Man alive, I needed something in my mouth to help me keep some semblance of control over my facial features. “He would make a much better roommate than London.” The bartender brought my tonic water and Schroder laid out a menu in front of me. “You’d better eat something while we’re here.” “Are you going to order something too and pretend to eat it?” I asked, scanning my choices. “No.” He put his head in his chin and took another drag on his cigarette. “Haven’t you heard? I’m too low on funds to goof off.” I looked over the menu items again, but I couldn’t see anything I wanted. The only thing holding my interest in the whole restaurant was sitting under Schroder’s elbow—a manila envelope. “So, what did she bring you?” I asked, attempting to sound nonchalant. “Oh, this?” he said, tapping it with one of his long fingers. “I’ll show it to you.” “Really?” “Oh, sure. Just give me a hundred and eighty thousand dollars and I’ll open it right up.” He was hilarious. “Maybe we can swing a trade,” I negotiated. “Pierce made some interesting comments. I’m sure they’re worth something. Besides, you said the envelope was for me, so why are you holding back?” “I don’t want to spoil you,” he said, offering me a cigarette. I eyed him skeptically. “What does it feel like when you smoke? Aren’t you dead?” “Yes, my heart stopped beating some time ago. Smoking is just like breathing regular air—tastes like nothing. Except Dudley always makes it look so cool. He’s the one, isn’t he?” “The ‘one’ what?” I said, beckoning a waiter over to take my order. “The one you’d rather be with than me. You betrayed your feelings chasing me down with such enthusiasm.” “I thought Dudley might have a lead,” I said, taking a second to point out to the server what I wanted. Schroder waited for him to leave. “Pierce didn’t tell you anything useful if you were still looking for Dudley.” “Didn’t you follow me into the remand center?” “How could I, when you had The Scissor Man escorting you there?” I remembered Officer Kelly and how relieved I was to see that he wasn’t dead. Now I understood why I needed an escort—to keep unwanted vampires away. It was kind of them to make the effort, but the guy sort of gave me the creeps. Schroder suddenly grabbed my hand. “Why are you making that face? You don’t have any reason to be afraid of The Scissor Man. You’re a human. He doesn’t chop up humans.” “You make him sound like a butcher for vampires. Pierce made him sound like a surgeon.” “He’s both.” “Well, whatever,” I said, shrugging off the implication. It sounded like Schroder would have ended up in pieces if he hadn’t somehow managed to get away. Even now, Pierce was still after him. I couldn’t think about that part, so I started talking about what I could think about. “Pierce brought in twelve members of the coven. There are still two more out there.” “That’s all?” “Yeah.” “No sign of London and Garth?” “None. Now, are you going to tell me what your little maid researched?” Schroder leaned back in his chair. “I think I was wrong about you.” I peered up at him. What was this nutcase saying now? Before I took the bullets out of his head, he was hopelessly in love with me, and now he was looking at me like he was about to say something akin to back-pedaling. “Don’t you like me anymore?” He sighed and shook his head. “I think I understand what Pierce was saying when he said a love affair without blood was much different. I feel like there’s no commitment.” “Of course, there’s no commitment. I haven’t promised you anything.” He discarded his cigarette in the ashtray and scratched the back of his head under his wig. He corrected his hat and said, “That doesn’t matter when a vampire mates. You think I have an extensive conversation with a woman when I’m going to drink her blood? I certainly don’t ask her permission. There are only two questions that are presented. First, does she want to drink my blood? Of course, I’ll drain her dry if she doesn’t replenish herself somehow. I had one girl who kept getting blood transfusions because she wanted to keep it going without drinking my blood. That relationship lasted longer than the others. The second choice a woman has is she can decide whether or not she wants to try to kill me when I get that look in my eyes. What I mean is, I feel myself wavering in my commitment to this arrangement—my not drinking your blood and loving you anyway.” I was about to tell him he had my permission to stray, but that meant he would eventually kill another girl, so I bit my tongue on it. Instead, I said, “Why don’t you give up mating entirely?” “I think I have to find a woman I love so much that I’m willing to die for her,” he said, looking past me, out the window. I followed his eyes and stared out the window to see what he found so fascinating. I didn’t see anything. “I guess you don’t have that kind of affection for me,” I said smoothly. He didn’t answer me but continued gazing at nothing. The waiter returned, carrying my food. After I started eating, Schroder said, “You’re wrong. I just need to make sure the deed is well placed. I don’t want to die for nothing. I want to die for everything I’ve ever dreamed of.” Then he sighed again and gathered up his pack of cigarettes and his manila envelope. “I’m done with you for now. Do whatever you want.” “You’re not going to follow me anymore? You got bored with that fast.” “Nah. I just want some privacy. I’ll be back and next time, you might not be able to shake me. I might decide that I love you deeply enough to make you immortal and then let you kill me. I can’t do things Pierce’s way. His way of loving is just another way of showing how selfish he is.” Schroder got up and left the table. I was sure he meant what he said. At least until he finished with what was in that envelope, I wouldn’t see him again. That might be five minutes or it might be five years. In any case, I had to take advantage of this opportunity and put as much distance between him and me as possible, but how could I do that? I couldn’t ask for help from Dudley, as that would lead Schroder to him. I didn’t want to go to my parents. They wouldn’t understand the first part of this mess. Schroder wasn’t afraid of Marshall. That only left one person I could think of—Pierce. And I wasn’t sure if I trusted him. I sat there and chewed on my food like the subject in my head. Wait a second! Schroder left without paying. What the heck had I ordered? Was I going to be able to pay for it with the money in my wallet? I opened my money bag and saw there was no way I could cover the cost. My face turned bright red. What was I supposed to say when the bill came? I looked at my plate. I’d eaten too much to send it back to the kitchen angrily. Well, I was in trouble whether I finished the food or not, so I dug in even though it stopped tasting good. In the end, I decided to just wait for the bill, pick it up off the table, then just walk out of the restaurant with it, and see if anyone noticed. So, that was how it played out. I got the bill and headed for the door. No one seemed to notice. I got to the door and suddenly there was a hand on either one of my arms. My head jerked up. Holding one of my arms was the bartender and the man holding my other arm was none other than Dudley—the real one this time. “Sweeper!” he gasped, totally breathless and sweaty. Where had he run from to look like that? “Hey, you haven’t paid,” the barkeeper said crossly. “Sorry, I was just coming to the door to see if my friend was here. He came to bail me out. Hey, Dudley,” I said, turning toward him. “Can you lend me twenty bucks? I’m a little shy today.” Dudley opened his wallet and the bartender took him over to the cash machine to square the bill. “Man alive! You saved me. Thanks for showing up, but how did you know I was here?” I said, leaning my back against the bar and resting my elbows behind me. “You’re awfully relaxed,” he commented. His forehead was deeply furrowed in fury and worry, but he kept his voice relatively level as he went on. “I suppose you didn’t know I’ve been searching everywhere for you. Where the hell did Schroder take you?” “I don’t know.” “And why didn’t you contact me when you got back?” I looked at him with wide eyes and wet my bottom lip. “I didn’t know you were looking for me. Schroder and I just got back to the city yesterday and today was the first day he let me out. I would have come to see you, but he’s been looking for you. He knows who you are.” Dudley frowned, took his receipt from the barman, and pulled me out of the lounge. “What is that supposed to mean?” “It means,” I whispered in his ear, “he knows who you are as Tate Dudley, P.I., local vampire hunter, who recently shot him in the head. It also means he doesn’t know you’re the same Tate Crosswood who beheaded him all those years ago. He has been looking for you for ages and I know he wants revenge for what you did to him, but he hasn’t made the connection yet.” "Doesn't he want revenge on you?” “Me, he’ll forgive, but the point is I don’t want him coming after you. I didn’t want him to see me with you, so I went and talked to Pierce. He told me you were looking for London and Garth, but he didn’t mention you were looking for me, too. Thanks.” Dudley frowned, and it seemed like his face had too many lines for a twenty-six-year-old. “Thanks? You have no idea what I’ve been through since Schroder kidn*pped you. Did he drink your blood?” He was looking around my neck to see if he could see any bite marks. I shook my head. “No.” “Did he act all pathetic and somehow make you feel sorry for him? Why are you so calm?” “Right now, I’m calm because he said he’d leave me alone for the time being. At the very least, I expect to go the rest of the day without seeing him.” The only reason I was composed was that Dudley had worried about me when no one else did. My mother didn’t even know I was missing and Pierce didn’t seem overly concerned, but here was someone who actually cared what happened to me. “One day? Where can I take you in one day where that monster can’t find you?” Dudley demanded, staring deep into my eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t want to run away from him either. I want to find London and get her story sorted.” Dudley looked confused. “You want to find London?” “Didn’t you say you’d help me? Didn’t you say you were already looking for her?” I reminded him sharply. “I did,” he agreed. “But, I thought maybe you would have changed your mind.” “Why?” He chuckled in a desolate sort of way. “I was hoping if I ever saw you again, your self-preservation instincts might have kicked in.” “Well, they haven’t,” I said crisply. “I feel the same way I did before. I want to save her from that awful man and bring her home.” “Sweeper, she’s not going to want that.” Now I was getting mad again. This was just what Pierce and Schroder had said. I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand by and allow my only sister to be murdered by a sack of crap loser guy just because it was a vampire’s nature or some such baloney. “Are you going to help me, or not?” I snapped. He sighed deeply. Then he took a gun out of one of his side holsters and gave it to me. “I already found London.” “You didn’t report it to Pierce?” I asked indignantly. “Why would I do that? He’s not in charge of me. Besides, there’s been so much to do with you missing and those other two coven members on the run. They’ll find a new vampire to drink from soon if we don’t stop them. London has been the least of my worries. She’s been holed up with Garth two cities over. I haven’t bothered going after them, because—Sweeper! There’s no point. She’s not coming back.” “What do you mean?” I asked cautiously as I took a step backward. Dudley held onto my arms and made me listen to him. “She’s dead. She’s not a human. It has been too late for her for eight years. You have been living with a corpse for eight years and it’s only in your head that she’s there with you. She’s gone.” “No! No! No!” I screamed. I couldn’t listen to him. I had to go on. I had to save her. But now I was starting to cry. Dudley looked at me, me with my red blotchy face and burning eyes. Then he sighed and whistled for a taxi. “Fine. Have it your way. You’re going to see exactly how much you mean to her.” He opened the door for me and helped me into the cab. The Blood that Flows Rain splashed on the cracked cement under my feet as I traversed my way to the backdoor of the apartment complex Dudley showed me. The building was made of slimy gray cinder blocks and looked no less than a hundred years old. Actually, it looked close to demolition. I expected to see a ‘danger’ sign around each corner, but one never came. Finally, a ‘proceed at your own risk’ sign hung over doors taped in bright orange caution tape. I was satisfied that no one lived here, or rather; no one was supposed to be here. I tried opening the door. It didn’t budge. Dudley came up behind me, took a look at the lock, the tape, and the yellow battered door. He turned to me and asked for the last time, “Are you sure you want to do this? What you see in there may scar you for life.” “I have to save her,” I explained desperately. As if I wasn’t traumatized already. Keeping his eyes on me, he took out his gun and blew a hole through the window of the door. A cat screeched and bolted. I gave him a disapproving look. “You thought we were going to get in without them noticing?” Dudley scoffed. “You need to learn a thing or two about vampire hunting. They always know you’re coming.” “We’re not vampire hunting!” I exclaimed. Dudley reached into the hole and undid the lock. He pulled on the handle and asked seriously, “Didn’t you come here to hunt Garth?” I tilted my head back in annoyance. Why did he keep questioning me? I couldn’t think about what I had to do. I just had to do it. If I hesitated, London would die. No thinking! Just moving! “Yeah! I guess so,” I said noisily and I took out my gun. He looked at me suspiciously. Then, shaking his head drearily, he twisted his wrist and dropped one of his long knives out of his sleeve. “Then you’re going to need this.” Handing it to me, he advised, “You don’t have to hide it. They’re coming.” “Who’s coming?” I asked, jerking my head past him to see through the apartment doors and down a ruined hallway. He was right. A figure moved toward us. The lights in the building were off and I could only see him as a shadow against the light cast against the back wall. It was a man, but I couldn’t tell if it was Garth. “Whatever you’re selling, we don’t want any,” the shadow called through the doors. Dudley adjusted the hat on his head politely with his free hand. His other hand held his gun. “We came to visit London. Could you tell us which floor she’s living on?” The shadow was at the door now, and it wasn’t Garth. It was a vampire with gray hair and black eyes. The anorexic bloodsucker wore a leather vest with the zipper done halfway up his chest and a dribble of red was running down his chin. Wet hair clung to his face in sticky strands. I recoiled slightly. Dudley stood his ground without a trace of discomfort. “Finished your transformation like what, five minutes ago? Three minutes ago? You look like shit.” “Have we met?” the vampire sneered. Clearly, he had expected his appearance alone to scare off any intruders and he was annoyed it had so little effect. “Did London change you because you monsters tied her up again, or are you her new lover? Or maybe you were sucking from Garth?” The vampire was so offended by what Dudley said that for a moment he was rendered speechless. “I repeat, what floor is London on?” Dudley pointed his gun at the vampire’s head. “Shoot him already!” the vampire in front of Dudley shrieked, calling to someone else. Another one of them was perched on a balcony. He had a shotgun in his arms, but it didn’t look like he knew how to use it and he was fumbling with loading it until the vampire on the ground shouted. The sniper grasped the gun and threw himself over the railing where he sprang like a monkey to another balcony railing, then to the tiny roof sheltering the door, and then to the ground in front of us. He wound up to strike Dudley with the gun, but Dudley ducked under the arc and discarded his hat in a nearby shrub. Dudley slid out his sheathed sword and planted a hit on the sniper’s gun arm, making him drop the gun. Then without warning, the shadow vampire came at me from behind and clasped his arms around my middle, pinning my arms to my sides. Off guard, I accidentally dropped my knife. I tried to break away by moving my arms, but he was too strong and he was maneuvering his new fangs toward my neck. I had the gun in my hand, but I wasn’t sure if I could shoot him. When you killed a vampire, you had to move beyond violence and into the realms of gore only seen in zombie-slasher video games. I wasn’t ready to do it until I felt his teeth scratch my skin. Putting my gun in my armpit, I aimed the barrel at his rib cage, and I pulled the trigger. He blew off me and slammed against one of the cinder block walls. I saw him flail for a moment before getting his bearings. “You thought that would kill me?” Touching my neck, I felt that he had sunk his teeth in and there was a small amount of blood oozing out two tiny puncture wounds. I screamed, “Schroder was harder to kill than you’ll be.” “You’re bluffing. You’re shaking in your boots, princess.” He came at me again. Suddenly, a vision of pulling Schroder’s bullets out of his head gave me purpose and conviction. I aimed for the vampire’s head and pulled the trigger. I missed. Then I jumped out of his way and smacked right into Dudley who was busy enough with the sniper. “These are the last two humans we didn’t arrest from the coven,” Dudley explained as he suddenly grabbed me and shoved me out of the way of the shadow vampire, who was reaching for me. In one swift movement, he unsheathed his sword and cut across my vampire’s chest. Dudley didn’t even watch where he fell before he turned back to the sniper. The whole thing reminded me of something Dudley had said, back at Marshall’s. He said I would be the kind of woman who wouldn’t have a problem slaughtering a pig. That’s exactly what this was. I could fight this vampire and risk him seriously injuring me, or I could just kill him. Schroder told me how to do it. I had a license to do it. I had come here believing I was prepared. I took two steps in front of the vampire Dudley sent sprawling on the ground, and pointing my gun properly, shot him in the head. Oddly enough, the bullet went exactly where Dudley had shot Schroder. The vampire was completely unconscious, just as Schroder had been. I walked up and did the dirty work I had made Dudley do when I was fifteen. I put my knife to his throat and cut, but it was harder work than it seemed. I had cut hams apart before and this was harder and bloodier. Dudley came and stopped me. “I’ll finish,” he said, touching my shoulder tenderly. I noticed he wasn’t caked in blood—not like me.
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