Always the Vampire (38 page)

I pointed out the elevator and stairwell towers, the traffic ramp, and the four-foot safety walls blocking the ramp. With a few clicks of the mouse, I also pulled up a professional aerial shot from the Internet for comparison before clicking back to the pictures I’d taken.

“By Friday night, the light on this level might be brighter because we’ll be nearer to full-moon time. Barring cloud cover.”

“I see what you mean about the lack of places to hide,” Lia said. “What about concealing ourselves in the stairwell?”

“The door does pull inward, but your view of the entire lot would be restricted. Of course, you’d be able to hide in the truck,” I added with a gimlet eye at Triton, “if someone would agree to stage a dead-battery hook up.”

Triton shook his head. “Cesca, the safety walls are too high for them to observe and react.”

“They could stay in your truck until the action starts,” I said, pointing at the screen below where the ramp opened into the topmost lot, “then take cover behind the wall.”

“If we do set up a roadblock, we should stage it farther down the ramp.” Triton slashed a finger across the spot he had in mind. “Less chance of a stray driver stumbling into the battle.”

“You’re right. That’s a much better place. Do you want to be the jumpee or the jumper?”

“I didn’t say I’d do it.”

But I could tell he was changing his mind, so I let it go for the moment, closed out the computer screens, and removed my camera cord.

We dove into the new training regimen with a vengeance, first identifying each other by essence in a version of blind man’s bluff. Next we practiced hiding and revealing our thoughts, projecting both to individuals and to the whole group.

Our final drill of the night was the one I’d anticipated, and the exercise played like dodge ball. Cosmil and Lia began by slow-pitching spheres of energy and gradually zinging fastballs. We practiced leaping away from them, and with each flying jump I took, I felt bursts in my cool well of power.

“Watch their eyes,” Saber said when we took a break to huddle on the far side of Cosmil’s enchanted circle. “It’s like in football. If the quarterback looks at his receiver, the defense knows right where to go. Our wizard and sorceress may be going easy on us, but right now they’re not looking us off.”

“Should we tell them?”

“Hell, no. I’m enjoying winning against magical forces.”

While we can.
That was left unsaid, but I heard Saber loud and clear in my head. From the grim smile Triton gave me, he’d heard, too.

 

 

Tuesday morning saw me up at the crack of eleven o’clock again. My dreams had given me an idea on organizing some of the wedding supplies beyond those I’d put in clear boxes, so I slathered on the super sunscreen to make a run with Saber to Dollar Tree and Target. I bought two hanging shoe storage units with clear plastic pockets for easy viewing, small clear plastic boxes, and white labels. I also stocked up at Dollar Tree on men’s and women’s toiletries, and plastic zipper bags. I even found the treat that Lia had wanted when she got off the plane, and bought two boxes of chocolate, graham cracker, and marshmallow goodness.

I already had both serious and funny wedding cards for the happy couple, so Saber made his selection while I bought a sewing kit that included thread in nearly every color known to dye lots. Of course, I had spools of thread that matched Maggie’s gown and our bridesmaid dresses, but it didn’t hurt to have extras for the guys and for those in the bridal party who weren’t walking down the aisle.

I spent the rest of the afternoon grouping supplies into categories, stashing them in zip bags, and making labels. Tomorrow I’d get with Maggie to collect those things from the house that needed to be at hand, and to go over the seating chart a final time.

Saber spent his time printing multiple copies of the photos I’d taken, and more copies of the daytime aerial shots of the parking-garage roof we’d found on the Internet. That night at Cosmil’s the subject would be strategy.

We again gathered around Cosmil’s coffee table, Saber distributing the printouts, me handing out pencils and highlighters. Pandora was present and listening, and I knew she’d contribute if she had anything to say. I also gave Lia her boxes of MoonPies, which she put on the counter for later.

“Let’s take it from the top,” Saber began. “I’ll be with Cesca at the rehearsal. It starts at six, and we should be parked and on the festival grounds by seven fifteen.”

“Right. According to the Internet, it will be full dark by seven thirty.”

Triton cleared his throat. “A newspaper article mentioned the Nisiotes Dance Troupe will be doing demonstrations.”

I blinked at the left-field comment. “So?”

“I’ve been thinking,” he responded. “To lure Starrack to the garage, do we need to stand out in the crowd?”

I read his next thought. “You want us to horn in on the dancers?”

“Yeah. Make a spectacle like we did when we scandalized my mother.”

“It could work,” Saber said.

“You think?”

He shrugged. “If it feels right at the time, go for it.”

“What do you want us to do?” Lia asked from her place beside Cosmil on the sofa.

“Can you set up your tracking-spell stuff in Triton’s truck?”

“Of course. We will take care of the security camera on the roof and in the stairwells, too, if you like.”

I looked at Lia. “Can you take care of the cameras with magick? Not knock them out, or someone is sure to check on them.”

“You want them to show the normal, empty spaces?”

“That’ll do,” Saber confirmed.

“I’ll see to it.”

“Then I’ll pick you up at six,” Triton said, then eyed me. “I’ve decided to go along with your dead-battery scheme. Should I park on the roof first thing?”

I beamed. “That would be great. We’ll drive up, and we can play with how far apart to park so we take up the maximum space. And if Cos and Lia wait in your truck afterward, it won’t look like either of the trucks are abandoned.”

“Lia,” Saber said, “you told us last night that the Void won’t die on its own. I know I’ve seen the Void in places I haven’t seen Starrack. The question is, will the wizard show up at the festival with or without his pet?”

“What you likely saw was the residue of the Void, Saber. The trails of the slug, as it were.”

“Trail of the sludge in this case,” I muttered.

“However, it is my opinion that Starrack keeps the Void close by so it may do his bidding.”

“Good, that helps.” He took a deep breath. “We’re at the part of the attack plan where we wing it. First, if you sense or spot Starrack or evidence of the Void, communicate their locations immediately.”

“Cesca and I will dance when we know Starrack is nearby, whether other dancers are on the floor or not.”

Saber nodded. “I’ll slip off to the garage while you two hook our fish.”

“I’ll start siphoning their energy in sips as soon as I sense them, and then we’ll reel them in and up to the roof.”

“How do you propose to attack Starrack once you get him there?” Cosmil asked.

“With everything we’ve got. Triton can do his dolphin-call thing, Cesca will suck energy, and if you’ll supply me with some of those diversionary bombs, I’ll keep him busy defending himself.”

“I will make enough for each of you to have some.” Cosmil looked at the aerial shots of the roof. “You must stay spread out and keep moving so you will be harder to hit with magick.”

“We could run a weave formation like in basketball,” I offered. “Work our way toward Starrack so we can whip the amulets on him.”

Triton gave me an incredulous look. “Basketball?”

“Hey, I had to have PE credits beyond surfing to get my GED.”

Saber turned a snort into a cough. “Cesca’s right about advancing on Starrack so you two can take him down. We’ll practice that tonight.”

“So, let me review this,” Triton said, ticking points on his fingers. “We get Starrack to notice us, if he’s there. We lead him to the parking roof. We run basketball plays to dodge his magick, advance on him in the process, and then hit him with the amulets.”

“You forgot the part where we blast him with our unique skills and the magical bombs,” I said, “but, yeah. That’s the plan.”

“I hope to hell this works.”

Training was intense, sweaty, and rewarding. Just as the night before, my pool of power swirled and bubbled and flowed through every muscle, making me stronger with each exercise.

First, we practiced telepathy. Next, Saber and I taught Triton the weave formation, with Pandora taking the role of Starrack.

“Just run in a figure-eight pattern as you move toward Pandora,” I told him more than once.

Bless his heart, basketball was clearly not Triton’s sport. I could only hope that Starrack wasn’t fast and that the Void was, indeed, a slug, because Pandora clearly ran rings around us.

After a break, we played dodge the energy balls again with Cosmil alone pitching hard and fast, and slinging cross throws he hadn’t tossed the night before. He landed harmless hits, but I was pleased to realize that we evaded well over half of the bolts he threw. Maybe that’s because we caught on to his tell—he twitched his shoulders in the direction he threw, just before he let ’er rip.

“Watch Starrack for his tells,” Saber said when we called a halt. “He has to have at least one. Everyone does.”

Our final workout of the night was a spectator sport for Cosmil, Lia, and Saber. They sat on the porch steps while Triton and I danced to music he’d downloaded to a CD. As the lively song beat from the speakers in Triton’s truck and he took my hand, the years rolled away. I saw us as we’d been the last time we’d danced together.

There had been a party, a wedding, as I recalled, and we’d been sixteen. Old enough to know better, but mischievous enough not to care if we made a small scene. The people of the Quarter would be forgiving. They’d witnessed our escapades since our childhoods and still expected us to marry.

We danced then as we did now, on the grass under the stars. Fellow dancers, dressed in their best homespun clothes, took shape in my mind’s eye, all of us in a line but moving in a large circle as we moved through the patterns of the dance. Then Triton squeezed my hand, and we broke from the “line” to execute our own steps. He dipped and leaped and slapped his feet, showing off for me, the maid he was impressing. I skip-stepped toward him then away, twirled, and pretended to drop a handkerchief. And then he caught my waist to swing me in a circle. The big no-no move that had put Triton’s mother in a fit for weeks.

In the last stanza, we rejoined the “line,” and the dance came to a breathless close. Triton caught me in his arms and twirled me around, chanting, “We still got it.”

On the porch, Lia applauded, Cosmil nodded his approval, and Saber grinned. Thankfully with not one sign of jealousy.

“That ought to get the attention you want.”

“Let’s just hope it gets Starrack to fall into our trap.”

As the five of us talked over plans for the next nights’ training, Saber and I both checked our cell phones. He tensed a split second before I did.

“I had a call from David at ten thirty,” he said.

“Mine came from Ken at eleven. Damn, I forgot about the magical dead zone.”

“God, I hope Lynn’s okay,” Triton moaned even as I hit the callback button, then put my cell on speaker.

“Cesca, did you get our messages?” David said.

“We didn’t bother to play the messages. Is everything okay?”

“Shipshape, but Lynn has some scoop she thinks you should know. Ken will see if she’s still awake.”

Triton relaxed his stance as we heard knocking on a door and Ken’s murmuring voice. Saber and I stayed alert and wary until Lynn’s voice floated over the airwaves.

“Cesca, hi. I hope the guys’ calls didn’t alarm you.”

“It’s okay, Lynn. What’s up? Is Gorman behaving?”

“Other than scaring the pizza-delivery guy half to death, he’s being his interesting self.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me he answered the door with a shotgun in hand.”

“The less you know, the better,” she said on a laugh. “Hey, I talked Gorman into letting me use his computer to keep up with my classes, and well, I kind of poked around in his files. Want to know what I found?”

“I’m still reeling that Gorman has a computer, much less files.”

“Strange, but true. I copied some names I want to run by you.”

“Shoot.”

“Patrizio and Maria Marinelli, Giuseppe and Trella Marinelli.”

My heartbeat seized, and my breath stopped cold at hearing the names of my father and mother, my oldest brother and his wife. I stared at the phone in my hand, not seeing anything but the bittersweet past. Not able to voice what I wanted to ask.

Triton crowded next to me. “What the hell is Cesca’s stalker doing with the names of her family?”

“Uh, did I do the wrong thing? I’m sorry.”

Saber put his arm around me, and I swallowed.

“It’s just a shock, Lynn,” I croaked out. I cleared my throat. “What is Gorman doing with those names, though? Can you tell by the name of the file?”

“I have a good idea, but you aren’t going to like it.”

“Better to know than to wonder, Lynn,” Saber put in.

“Okay, then. The file name is ‘bitch vampire,’ and the documents in it trace genealogy. Cesca, from what I could see, Gorman thinks you’re his aunt, ten generations back and a couple of times removed.”