Or whoever the hell he is.
But why would I want to do that? I wasn’t the brave type. If I couldn’t use my therapy skills to resolve a situation, I was pretty much out of my league. Now that I’d actually seen the monster up close and personal and witnessed his madness firsthand, why would I want to put myself in danger again?
Because until he was caught and put away, I was a prisoner. He could show up anytime and destroy as many offices as I could move into. In fact, that reminded me – I needed to talk to Devereux about whether or not he really wanted me in there if his incredible building could be wrecked by Vampire Satan at any moment.
Still, weighing all the pros and cons, I thought the idea of my participation in the capture was worth a phone call to Lieutenant Bullock.
CHAPTER 24
The first thing I noticed when I returned home was that the media and police were still missing in action. What kind of monster could cause humans to run in fear just from his physical presence? Why hadn’t I felt whatever made the others head for the hills? Apparently, it doesn’t affect everyone.
Within minutes of pulling into my garage, the cleaning crew showed up and my townhouse became a flurry of activity.
While the professionals put my living quarters back together, I sat at the kitchen table, deleting and saving voice-mail messages.
I’d made the big time.
In among the calls from current clients, prospective clients, babbling psychotics, New Age seekers, Twilight fans, hopeful romantic partners – mostly prisoners or the recently released – and local media, there were messages from all the major networks.
I’d been invited to appear on every late-night, early-morning, afternoon and prime-time interview programme on the TV schedule. The segment would probably be called ‘Let’s ridicule, harangue and generally humiliate the allegedly professional woman calling herself the Vampire Psychologist’.
Turns out that not all advertising is good advertising after all.
The one exciting message was from a well-known publisher, asking if I’d consider writing a book. That was definitely a keeper.
Tom would be so proud of my fifteen minutes of fame and fortune.
Thinking about Tom’s shallow tendencies reminded me I hadn’t heard from him since Zoë pulled him onto the dance floor at The Crypt several nights ago. From past experience I would’ve said disappearing that way wasn’t his style, but I really didn’t know him well enough any more, if I ever did, to guess what he would or wouldn’t do. Especially if there was a woman involved. In fact, now that I thought about it, taking off with a gorgeous female was exactly something Tom would do.
I saved all the messages from the national media, just in case I ever did finish the book about vampire wannabes – or was it about vampires now? – and needed some New York and Los Angeles contact numbers.
Being productive felt good. I called all my current clients, told them I’d have a new location soon and arranged for telephone counselling sessions in the meantime. The prospective clients were willing to wait until I set up my new office. I was surprised by how many of them hadn’t been put off by the gruesome publicity surrounding me. In fact, thanks to the national obsession with celebrities, some of the callers sought me out because they’d seen my face on the local news. Maybe I would come out of this mess with some parts of my life still intact.
By late afternoon the living room sparkled and silence reigned supreme. I’d left a message for Lieutenant Bullock outlining my offer to be bait tonight at The Vampires’ Ball, but hadn’t heard back from her. Taking advantage of the quiet, I drifted into a catnap on the couch and was startled when the doorbell chimed me into wakefulness.
I bolted up, heart pounding, and immediately checked the window for signs of sunlight. I was relieved to find the sun hadn’t gone down yet. I was safe. Maybe. It wasn’t healthy to make assumptions about the limitations of the undead, but I hoped the not-being-able-to-go-out-in-the-sun thing was true.
I crept over to the door and yelled, ‘Who is it?’
‘It’s your trusty FBI agent.’
I huffed out the breath I’d been holding and stared through the peephole. Alan’s smiling face filled the view.
The vampire handyman had installed additional locks on the door – not that locks would keep undead visitors out, but I had to do something – and going through the unlocking process took a bit longer than before.
‘Hey, you added more locks.’ He pointed back over his shoulder. ‘Where are all the news vans and cop cars?’ He hugged himself, running his hands up and down his arms as if he were cold. ‘Shit. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but as soon as I pulled in front of your house, my stomach cramped and I had a strong urge to jump back in my car and drive as far away from this place as fast I could. I almost did. It felt like something really horrible would happen if I got any closer.’ He pressed his palm to his chest. ‘Damn. My heart’s going nuts. What the fuck?’
I tugged him into the room. ‘Come in and sit down. You don’t look so good.’
He gave a weak grin. ‘Just what a guy wants to hear from an attractive woman.’
After carefully relocking everything I led him into my disinfectant-scented living room and offered him a seat on the couch.
I sat in my fluffy chair and explained the events of the previous evening as he recovered himself and wrote in his dog-eared notebook.
When I finished, he frowned and smacked a hand down on his leg, the negative effects of Brother Luther’s energy waning. ‘I knew I should’ve come home with you. None of that would’ve happened if I’d been here. Why didn’t you call me? You know I’ve been on this case for months.’
I did the therapist nod and spoke in my most reasonable voice. ‘Well, first, you wanted to come home with me so we could have wild and crazy sex, so I might’ve been even more vulnerable when the maniac showed up if I’d been on my back, screaming Johnny Depp’s name.’
He snorted out a laugh.
‘And second,’ I continued, ‘I don’t have to tell you what violent psychopaths do to people who stand in the way of their object of fixation. If you’d been here, even if we were just talking in the living room, he’d have seen you as a threat and taken you out. For some reason I’ve become important to him.’
‘You don’t have to worry about him taking me out. I could’ve handled myself.’
‘Maybe.’ I wasn’t convinced. ‘I didn’t call you because it simply didn’t occur to me.’ I tucked my legs underneath me and sighed. ‘From the moment Brother Luther showed up ’til Luna’s vampires arrived and the room got too crowded for him to the second I fell asleep on the floor, I was on automatic pilot. Actually, by not letting you come home with me, I probably saved your life. Therefore, clearly, you owe me.’ I gave him my sweetest, most innocent smile.
He chuckled and slouched into the couch cushions. ‘Let’s entertain the possibility that your suppositions are correct and he would’ve torn my throat out if I’d been with you. That makes what you proposed to Bullock even more dangerous and lame-brained. How many people would he take out at a huge gathering in order to get to you?’
‘Well, that’s why the police would be there. Don’t you think it makes sense to call him out? If I don’t, I’ll be looking over my shoulder every day until he either loses interest in me or gets caught. And what’s the likelihood that a psychopath will lose interest?’
‘Okay, I hear you.’ He folded his arms across his chest. ‘But I can tell you that Bullock won’t go for it. She can’t put a civilian in danger – it’d mean her badge. Personally, I think having the cops show up at the ball is a great idea.’