"When I started to feel OK, I told him I didn't like it. I told him, y'know, what comes around goes around. But he was still laughing at me. He said I didn't have any idea what I was talking about, that I was a 'foolish little boy' who was still more animal than vampire, that I should shut up, mind my betters, and do as I was told. He also told me that I should stop thinking that the rules and morals of 'stupid animals' had any hold on a higher species. 'Higher species, " Cameron snorted.
"I flipped a bit. I told him he was scum. That he wasn't any more evolved than a protozoa whipping its tail through the mud of the primordial ooze. That he wasn't any better than an oversize tsetse fly, sucking the blood of creatures better than him and infecting them with his own brand of sleeping sickness. I said that every society had rules of some kind and that it was only bullies who preyed on those weaker or less fortunate than they and that any reasonable society would pitch someone like him straight into the nearest volcano for recycling."
Cameron slumped back in his chair, the agitation of his recitation seeming to drain him of energy. "He beat the crap out of me. Then he dumped me on a street corner in Tacoma and told me the next time I spoke to him, he'd stake me out on the top of the Washington Mutual Tower for the morning sun. And that's the last word I ever had out of him."
I had to take a couple of breaths and slow my brain back down before I could say anything. "That was quite a speech."
"Yeah. The one time in my life I was eloquent," he admitted.
"And after that, no one else was willing to talk to you, either?"
"That's right. Alice warned me off once, but even she won't look at me anymore."
"Alice?"
"Alice Liddell. Another vampire." Cameron waved away the details for now. "Doesn't like Edward, but even she said I might have gone a bit too far."
"You regret what you said?" I asked.
"Yeah, I do. Not the sentiment, but… losing it like that. He could have killed me. It was just stupid. I should have found some other way to get out of the situation." He was fidgeting again.
"So what you're so embarrassed about is that you lost your temper?"
"Well, yeah… it's a pretty ugly temper."
I leaned forward and gazed at him until he looked back at me. I managed to hold his stare even while the sensation of cold knives shredded me. "You're an idiot," I said.
"Hey. That's a little harsh, isn't it?"
"No," I replied. "You dove into a situation you hadn't fully evaluated and didn't understand. Under the circumstances, that makes sense. But after that, you only made your own situation worse. You should be embarrassed. Your temper got you into deep kimchi with Edward and it'll get you in just as deep with me, if you don't keep a lid on it. You ought to be scared out of your damned mind. I am."
I sat back, tired out by my own annoyance and underlying fear.
"I am scared," he muttered. "I'm scared of everything. Daylight. People. Myself. I'm afraid that I'll hurt someone. What if I attack my sister or my mother? What if I flip out and kill someone? I don't need to kill for food, but what if I do it by accident? All my friends come down to the Square, you know. What if someone figures me out and… and… I don't want to be like this. I don't want to be a monster!"
Who does? I sighed. "Oh, for the gods' sweet sakes. You're not a monster. You didn't harm the Danzigers, did you?"
"No, but they knew and they were prepared. They had… magic and stuff."
"So do you, if what the Danzigers said is true. You are a creature of magic, a denizen of the Grey. This is going to be hard," I added, shaking my head.
"Why?"
"Because I'm not good with this ghosts-and-magic stuff, so I can only do things in the way I already know, and that's the ordinary human way. Investigation and legwork and shuffling papers. If that doesn't work, I don't know what we'll have to do, but I hope it won't get us killed."
"It has to work… I know you can make it work. You just have to."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Luckily, it seems that Edward used a condo that belongs to TPM to house Sarah. I'm already trying to track down his connection to TPM. You wouldn't happen to know his last name?"
"Edward's? I don't know if I ever heard it. But TPM… Wow. They're pretty heavy."
"Yes, they are. And here's a funny coincidence for you. In addition to the condo building, they also own several clubs in Seattle, including two in Pioneer Square."
"They do?" Cameron leaned forward. "Which ones?"
"The After Dark, which I've never heard of, and Dominic's, which happens to employ the bouncer who confirmed that you were in Pioneer Square just last night."
"Jesus H—I thought Edward owned Dominic's. But if he's connected to TPM…"
"Edward can't be the principal of Dominic's. Steve the bouncer told me he'd never heard of Edward."
"He's lying. Maybe he never heard his first name—that's a possibility— but he sure knows him on sight. TPM. That might explain why so many people kowtow to Edward, though. And he seems to be a very important guy among the vampires. Lots of bootlicking there, too. He said I was out and by the next night I might as well have been the invisible man."
"So you don't know what his connection is to TPM? Or exactly what his position is relative to the vampire community?" I clarified.
"No, I don't, but I'd guess if he's not the top dog, he's very close to him."
"Oh, terrific. I've just agreed to take on Seattle's top bloodsucker. Thanks, Cameron. I always did like to live dangerously."
"Well, I didn't say it was going to be a normal job."
Chapter 19
At seven a.m. Wednesday morning, I rolled out of bed to stagger around the water tower. It was the worst I'd felt in a week, but I was doing much better at keeping the Grey at bay—at least when there were no ghosts or witches or vampires around. It was an ever-present thin mist dodging around the edges of my vision now, throwing occasional ghost-shapes over the landscape ahead. The constant flickering at the corners of my eyes left me a little dizzy.
When I stumbled home, I called Colleen Shadley to say I'd found Cameron.
Silence sat on the line a while before she asked, "Under what circumstances?"
"Living in his car down in Pioneer Square." "Why? That's not like him." "He had a personal problem and he panicked." "Ridiculous. Why didn't he call me? I certainly could have taken care of it."
"He was scared but wanted to take care of the problem himself. He got in a little over his head. I've agreed to help him deal with it," I explained. "He should be calling you soon. If you don't hear from him, please let me know."
"It must be drugs," she stated. "It's the only way I can account for this behavior."
That sounded familiar. "This has nothing to do with drugs. He's just young and his situation was more complicated than he realized."
"What is this situation you keep talking about?" she demanded.
"Cameron wanted to discuss it with you himself." I was biting my tongue pretty hard as my temper rose. Sarah's view of her mother snapped into focus.
"I paid for this investigation. You have a contractual obligation to tell me."
The temperature of my voice hovered near freezing. "No, Colleen. The contract gives me discretion on matters not directly bearing on the job, and I'm exercising that clause. You paid for me to find your son, not to spy on him. If he doesn't call you within twenty-four hours, then I'll be glad to discuss whatever you want. But your son asked for some time to straighten out a few things and I'm giving him that courtesy."
"Will I be billed for this 'courtesy'?"
"No."
"I'll call you as soon as I hear from Cameron. Or not." She cracked the phone into the cradle as she hung up.
I slithered out of my sweats and running shoes and flopped back into bed. I felt like a Chihuahua in a wind tunnel. Flat on my back, eyes closed… I was more tired than I should have been, but the constant wearing nausea was gone. I couldn't see the Grey. I was aware of it, but it wasn't immediate. Without the flickering, the treacherous false ground, the heaving, unstill world on top of the world, only fatigue remained. It was the Grey that left me queasy and worn, the uneven, sporadic view, the constant expenditure of energy to figure out what was real and hold back the rest.