I finished my orange juice and paid up, a little heavy on the tip to keep things aboveboard. Dave would never admit he helped me because of my tie with the police, so money had to exchange hands, even if it wasn't nearly what the information was worth. “Thanks, Luther.”
“Word on the street is that you met the master last night. That true?”
“You know about that before or after the fact?” I asked.
He looked pained. “Anita, we woulda told you if we'd known, gratis.”
I nodded. “Sorry, Luther, it's been a rough few nights.”
“I'll bet. So the rumor's true?”
What could I say? Deny it? A lot of people seemed to know. I guess you can't even trust the dead to keep a secret. “Maybe.” I might as well have said yes, because I didn't say no. Luther understood the game. He nodded. “What did they want with you?”
“Can't say.”
“Mmm … uh. Okay, Anita, you be damn careful. You might wanta get some help, if there's anybody you can trust.”
Trust? It wasn't lack of trust. “There may be only two ways out of this mess, Luther. Death would be my choice. A quick death would be best, but I doubt I'll get the chance if things go bad. What friend am I supposed to drag into that?”
His round, dark face stared at me. “I don't have no answers, girl. I wish I did.”
“So do I.”
The phone rang. Luther answered it. He looked at me and carried the phone down on its long cord. “For you,” he said.
I cradled the phone against my cheek. “Yes.”
“It's Ronnie.” Her voice was suppressed excitement, a kid on Christmas morning.
My stomach tightened. “You have something?”
“There is a rumor going around Humans Against Vampires. A death squad designed to wipe the vampires off the face of the earth.”
“You have proof, a witness?”
“Not yet.”
I sighed before I could stop myself.
“Come on, Anita, this is good news.”
I cupped my hand over the phone and whispered, “I can't take a rumor about HAV to the master. The vampires would slaughter them. A lot of innocent people would get killed, and we're not even sure that HAV is really behind the murders.”
“All right, all right,” Ronnie said. “I'll have something more concrete by tomorrow, I promise. Bribe or threat, I'll get the information.”
“Thanks, Ronnie.”
“What are friends for? Besides, Bert's going to have to pay for overtime and bribes. I always love the look of pain when he has to part with money.”
I grinned into the phone. “Me, too.”
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Going to a party.”
“What?”
I explained as briefly as I could. After a long silence she said, “That is very freaky.”
I agreed with her. “You keep working your end, I'll try from this side. Maybe we'll meet in the middle.”
“It'd be nice to think so.” Her voice sounded warm, almost angry.
“What's wrong?”
“You're going in without backup, aren't you?” she asked.
“You're alone,” I said.
“But I'm not surrounded by vampires and freakazoids.”
“If you're at HAV headquarters, that last is debatable.”
“Don't be cute. You know what I mean.”
“Yes, Ronnie, I know what you mean. You are the only friend I have who can handle herself.” I shrugged, realized she couldn't see it, and said, “Anybody else would be like Catherine, sheep among wolves, and you know it.”
“What about another animator?”
“Who? Jamison thinks vampires are nifty. Bert talks a good game, but he doesn't endanger his lily white ass. Charles is a good enough corpse-raiser, but he's squeamish, and he's got a four-year-old kid. Manny doesn't hunt vampires anymore. He spent four months in the hospital being put back together after his last hunt.”
“If I remember correctly, you were in the hospital, too,” she said.
“A broken arm and a busted collarbone were my worst injuries, Ronnie. Manny almost died. Besides, he's got a wife and four kids.”
Manny had been the animator who trained me. He taught me how to raise the dead, and how to slay vampires. Though admittedly I had expanded on Manny's teachings. He was a traditionalist, a stake-and-garlic man. He had carried a gun, but as backup, not as a primary tool. If modern technology will allow me to take out a vampire from a distance, rather than straddling its waist and pounding a stake through its heart, heh, why not?
Two years ago, Rosita, Manny's wife, had come to me and begged me not to endanger her husband anymore. Fifty-two was too old to hunt vampires, she had said. What would happen to her and the children? Somehow I had gotten all the blame, like a mother whose favorite child had been led by the neighborhood ruffians. She had made me swear before God that I would never again ask Manny to join me on a hunt. If she hadn't cried, I would have held out, refused. Crying was damned unfair in a fight. Once a person started to cry, you couldn't talk anymore. You suddenly just wanted them to stop crying, stop hurting, stop making you feel like the biggest scum-bucket in the world. Anything to stop the tears.
Ronnie was quiet on the other end of the phone. “All right, but you be careful.”
“Careful as a virgin on her wedding night, I promise.”
She laughed. “You are incorrigible.”
“Everybody tells me that,” I said.
“Watch your back.”
“You do the same.”
“I will.” She hung up. The phone buzzed dead in my hands.
“Good news?” Luther asked.
“Yeah.” Humans Against Vampires had a death squad. Maybe. But maybe was better than what I'd had before. Look, folks, nothing up my sleeves, nothing in my pockets, no idea in hell what I was doing. Just blundering around trying to track down a killer that has taken out two master vampires. If I was on the right track, I'd attract attention soon. Which meant someone might try to kill me. Wouldn't that be fun?
I would need clothes that showed off my vampire scars and allowed me to hide weapons. It would not be an easy combination to find.
I would have to spend the afternoon shopping. I hate to shop. I consider it one of life's necessary evils, like Brussels sprouts and high-heeled shoes. Of course, it beat the heck out of having my life threatened by vampires. But wait; we could go shopping now and be threatened by vampires in the evening. A perfect way to spend a Saturday night.
23
I transferred all the smaller bags into one big bag, to leave one hand free for my gun. You'd be amazed what a nice target you make juggling two armloads of shopping bags. First drop the bags, that is if one of the handles isn't tangled over your wrist-then reach for your gun, pull, aim, fire. By the time you do all that the bad guy has shot you twice and is walking away humming Dixie between his teeth.
I had been downright paranoid all afternoon, aware of everyone near me. Was I being followed? Had that man looked too long at me? Was that woman wearing a scarf around her neck because she had bite marks?
By the time I went for the car, my neck and shoulders were knotted into one painful ache. The most frightening thing I'd seen all afternoon had been the prices on the designer clothing.