Me and My Shadows
Its night's like this I think about working on my suntan.
I've got an hour before sunup, and I've got a decision to make.
Either try to get to my potential lead now and maybe find a last-minute hiding spot before sunrise, or not risk it and hope they don't get to her tonight.
I wish they made SPF 150.
I hop on my bike, a red and black 1997 Heritage Softail Springer that is anything but inconspicuous. I need speed, not stealth.
Tuwanda Jackson lived twenty minutes away normal time. That equates to 9.5 minutes Austin time.
I park the bike in the Acme parking lot about two blocks from her complex. I walk behind the Acme and jump the privacy fence for the apartment complex. A few guys are killing forties on a back stoop. I surround myself in shadows. I don't think it matters. These boys have been drinking for 10 hours straight from the looks of things. But then again a blonde biker-bitch jumping over the fence might still attract attention.
So all they get are shadows.
I get across the street from Tuwanda's apartment and I see an old conversion van in from of her place. 60-year old black women do not drive conversion vans.
I can't win.
So I have to figure that somebody is already there, and probably watching for me. So I pull out my cell phone.
"…911, what is your emergency?"
So I place a bomb scare call for a conversion van at 406D 12th street. It's New York, after all. They might drag their feet on a fire in this part of town, but they can't afford to ignore a bomb threat.
So maybe it's a little unpatriotic, I don't have time for patriotism. Besides, I know that at least the bomb squad is under mage, not vampire, control. They haven't received any orders to delay their actions in this area. I know the police and fire departments have.
Within three minutes, a bomb team has practically teleported onto the scene. Me and my shadows move closer to the house and wait for somebody to come out.
Imagine my surprise when I see my old man.
Belistrane isn't technically my father, but he is my sire. So it's the same thing.
I notice he's starting to mind-fuck the bomb squad.
Oh hell no.
I pull my Colt Anaconda out and aim for the head.
Two phosphorous rounds to the cranium.
Soak that, dad.
Shit, it actually dropped him! Cool!
Three Rabble come out of the house bearing fangs and looking for trouble.
This is not cool.
I just stay still and wrap the shadows around me. If they see me, I'm screwed. I can't outrun them. Even the weakest Rabble can move at twice my speed, and they're all strong as hell.
So with all my will I just stand still and watch them tear the bomb squad to pieces. At least they killed them quick.
They dragged Belistrane's carcass into the van and the other body parts into the bomb squad vehicle and drive off. I go into the house and find the late Mrs. Jackson's blood splattered all over the living room.
The place has been tossed. I don't see a TV or stereo, but I see the empty areas in the entertainment center. I go upstairs to find an empty jewelry box. No purse to be found anywhere. Just another break-in gone awry.
I come downstairs. I hear a slight moan.
She's not dead!
They didn't have time to finish her off, or maybe they thought they did.
But she'll die soon if I don't do something. An ambulance won't get here in time.
I call Martin on the cell phone.
"We have a problem," I say.
"We?" he responds.
"Don't start. You've been at this longer than me. At what point can you feed a mortal blood without making them a vampire?"
There is a long pause. "Why?"
"I thought my contact was dead, but she has a slight pulse. She's gonna die."
"Does she have any color?"
"She's black, Martin."
"Does she look ashy, smart ass?"
"No."
"A little blood won't turn her. But you don't know enough to erase her memory. You're better off letting her die."
"I can't do that."
"Yes, you can. You just chose not to."
I hang up.
I bite down on my wrist and let the blood drip into her mouth. I lick the wound clean and it heals.
Five minutes later, she starts to move.
Twenty seconds after that, she opens her eyes and screams.
I grab her head and force her to look at me. "Quiet!" I command. She obeys.
I look at the clock. 20 minutes.
"Not a word. Just nod if you understand. Do you want to live?"
She nods violently.
"O.K. I want you to live. So we should get along just fine. You need to listen to me. I need you to go to the nightclub Dark Desires on Xavier Ave immediately. Tell the bouncer Alex sent for you. He'll get you a room in the back of the club. Don't call anybody. Don't dawdle. I'm the only one that can protect you. The police won't because they're all paid for. Your friends can't because if you get them involved you'll get them killed. Your minister can't unless he's part of the Inquisition, and even then you'd be putting him in danger. Do you understand?"
She nods again.
"Go now."
I let her go. She starts to run out the front door.
"Wait!" I command. She stops.
I take off my trench and hand it to her with ten bucks for cab fare.
"You one of them, aincha?" she asks.
"Somewhat."
"Why you help me?"
"Because I can. Now go."
I leave behind her, jump the fence, get on my bike and head back to Dark Desires. The sky has just started to change to purple as the sun begins to wake up. I tell the bouncer I'm expecting an older black woman to show up. Get her a room and make sure she eats something.
"Bringing strays home now?" I hear Martin behind me. I walk past him without looking at him.
He grabs my shoulder and tries to turn me around. I grab one of the safety pins in his eyebrow and pull. The skin gives easily, and blood pours down into his eyes. He licks at the blood on his face and laughs.
"ALEX! You do care!" He lets go of my shoulder.
"I'm tired, Martin."
"Can I have my safety pin, please?"
I hand him the bloody pin and wipe my hands on my jeans.
"Now that's a waste…"
"I'm tired, Martin."
He sticks the pin into the regenerating eyebrow.
"He was there, Martin," I say as I start to walk away. "He was there and I couldn't finish it. Now three more people are dead and I didn't even finish it."
"And now he knows you're in New York."
I stop and turn around. "You want me to find another haven? I don't want to bring this shit down on you again."
He doesn't answer. He just looks at me for a moment, then tells the bouncer to take care of our guest when she arrives.
We both go to our separate rooms and go to sleep.
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