Blood Hunt (32 page)

“That’s fine, thanks,” Rhes said.

“Follow me.”

Aros lead them through a series of undecorated hallways and into a concrete stairwell. They climbed the twisting staircase for three stories before coming to a halt in front of a heavy metal security door. Aros used a key to open this, and they exited out into a set of dark, mostly empty rooms that must once have been offices.

“This office is mine. The rest are rarely occupied,” Aros said. He walked over to his desk, glanced at his laptop, opened a desk drawer, and checked something on a notepad. Apparently satisfied, he looked up.

“There is no reason you should need to be here again.”

He led them outside. Rhes could see that there were guards patrolling under the large arc-sodium lights that illuminated the walkways between buildings. Rhes couldn’t get a feel for the size of the complex in the few brief moments they spent outside before Aros led them into another building.

“This was an officer’s townhouse, at one point,” the vampire told them. “I’m sure you’ll find it to your liking. It’s been aired out, and the linens are fresh. There is food in the kitchen. A young woman named Janet will be by tomorrow to find out if you need anything.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. Thank you,” Rhes said.

“There are guards at all entrances and exits to the compound, twenty-four hours a day. It’s not that I don’t trust you, precisely, but at this stage I must take all precautions.”

“We’re not going anywhere until you tell us we can,” Sarah said.

“Very good. I hope you have a lovely night.”

Aros took two steps down the walkway and then turned, looked up at Sarah, and said, “By the way, Mrs. Thompson … if you’d like to do something about those eyes, we really should sit down and talk sometime.”

With that, he turned and walked briskly away.

* * *

“What do you suppose he meant by that?”

Rhes and Sarah were sitting in the living room of their quarters, and had been doing so for nearly fifteen minutes, trying to wrap their minds around their new situation. Rhes knew that for quite some time, Sarah was going to be relying very heavily on him. She didn’t know her way around this house, and Jake was gone. Until they could get her a cane, Rhes would have to serve as her eyes.

“Meant by what?” Rhes asked, knowing full well what she meant.

“Don’t. Don’t play dumb, Rhes,” Sarah said, and there was an odd note in her voice that Rhes didn’t find particularly pleasant.

“Sarah, you don’t really think this guy has a miracle cure for blindness, do you?”

Sarah was quiet for a moment, then said, “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know anything about vampires. The stuff Two told us …”

“Two was dealing with vampires who didn’t feel the need to break into her house, kill her dog, and drug her.”

“Yeah, no, Two’s vampires were awesome,” Sarah said, her voice acerbic. “They only wanted to torture and kill her.”

Rhes sighed. “OK, true.”

“I don’t like Aros,” Sarah said. “He’s … the politeness is a put-on. I’m sure of it. But Rhes, what if he can fix my eyes?”

“Even if he’s not lying, and he probably is, you know what his solution’s going to be.”

“Well …”

“He’s going to want to turn you into a vampire.”

“Maybe he could just give me blood, like Theroen did for Two. You have to be
drained
to be turned. Otherwise the blood just … just does things for you.”

“Aros is a completely different type of vampire than Theroen was. Do you remember everything we’ve been told about these guys?”

Sarah bit her lower lip, sitting in silence for a time. Finally she said, “You’re probably right. Sorry, I just … it’s just … why would he
say
something like that?”

“To fuck with you? Not to jump to conclusions, but I think our new friend might be a bit of an asshole.”

“Yeah, I guess. Sorry.”

Rhes pulled her close and hugged her. “I’m not mad at you. I just don’t want you getting full of false hope and being disappointed. I don’t want you to let him hurt you.”

Sarah hugged back. “I know. God … I want all of this shit to be over. When is it going to end?”

“Don’t know. I’m going to kill Two, if she’s not already dead. She’s traipsing around Europe, and we’re stuck here with some lunatic. They took our phones, and the lines in here don’t work. Jakob’s gone. Molly’s all by herself. I’m supposed to be opening a new bar in eight weeks. Hell, I haven’t even finished my Christmas shopping
.
I have shit to do, and the list doesn’t include being held prisoner by some crazy vampire.”

“We don’t even know if he’s really going to let us go. He might just kill us.”

“Yes, that’s absolutely true, and it’s why we need to get out of here.”

“How?”

Rhes sighed. “I have no idea. No idea at all. Right now, I’m too tired and sick from that stupid drug to even think about it. It’s gotta be four in the morning. Maybe tomorrow I’ll think of something.”

“At least they don’t have Molly,” Sarah said.

“Right, not yet anyway. I made the mistake of asking Aros about her. He didn’t even know we
had
a daughter, so now he’s probably sending someone to get her.”

“That’s not your fault, baby. Don’t be angry at yourself.”

“No, it’s probably not my fault, but it’s still a problem. ‘Course, I have no idea what Molly’s going to do without us.”

Sarah nestled in against him, obviously exhausted. Rhes shifted position, helped her recline with him, not wanting even to make the effort of going upstairs to go to a strange bed. He was tired, still somewhat dizzy from the drug, and just wanted this night to end. He leaned back and closed his eyes.

“Molly’s a smart kid,” Sarah said, her voice fuzzy with approaching sleep. “She’ll figure something out.”

Chapter 18
The Fixer

“I’m tired of just sitting here. We gotta do something!”

Sasha looked up from her computer, glanced over at Molly, and said, “I am doing something.”

“What, surfing porn?” Molly asked.

“I’m searching for information on Aros. Why must you be so sarcastic all of the time?”

“Picked it up from a friend,” Molly replied. She left Sasha’s leather couch and moved to stand behind the vampire, peering at the computer screen.

“This is impossible,” Sasha said after a moment. “Even if I knew enough about him to search efficiently, Aros has likely covered his tracks. Searching his name brings up nothing of value. I doubt he’s used his real name on official documents in hundreds of years.”

“You’re never gonna find him like this,” Molly agreed. She sat down in a short-backed armchair that had been positioned next to the desk. “Come on, you’re just going to get nine million Goth sites or whatever. You need to be outside, talking to vampires.”

“The type of vampires I would need to question won’t take very kindly to my presence,” Sasha commented.

“Fuck ‘em …”

“Yes, that’s all well and good from the perspective of a thirteen-year-old human girl, but when I’m swarmed by Burilgi and torn into pieces, it’s going to make rescuing Jakob rather difficult.”

“Don’t forget my parents.”

“Yes, your parents, too.”

“You don’t really give a shit about them, do you?” Molly asked, her voice angry. Sasha turned and raised her eyebrows.

“Should I?” she asked without malice. “Try to see it from my perspective: they came stumbling into our world, as humans typically do, getting involved in things they should have left alone. They are paying the price for that. If your parents hadn’t gone to Two’s apartment last year, Jakob would not be in this situation.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Even putting that aside, I’ve met your parents exactly once. They seem like reasonably intelligent, decent people, and I didn’t mind helping them. That doesn’t mean we’re friends. If you think my concern for them is going to equal my concern for Jakob, you’re mistaken.”

Molly chewed her lower lip, looking at Sasha for a moment, and then said, “OK, fine. But guess what, if you don’t start worrying about my parents the way you’re worrying about Jakob, you won’t get my help.”

“And I need your help … why?”

“These vampires you’re looking for … they hang in crappy areas, right? With addicts and muggers and hookers and shit?”

“Not all of them, but … some, yes. I imagine so.”

“Ever been to East New York?”

Sasha tilted her head. “This is beginning to sound like you may have an idea.”

“I think I can help. Are you in, or should we just watch TV and wait for those fuckheads at the council to get off their asses?”

Sasha leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, regarded Molly with cool interest. At last she said, “Tell me your plan. You have my attention.”

* * *

“This … you lived here?” Sasha asked, her disgust evident. She had visited worse slums in her life, but the idea that Molly had ever spent time here seemed absurd. The girl beside her gave a cynical laugh.

“You see?” she asked. “I told you taking the Caddy was a bad idea.”

Sasha nodded. Molly had convinced her to take a cab, something Sasha rarely did, and she was thankful for it. The area was filled with chop shops and auto yards, and Sasha doubted that all of their parts were acquired by legitimate means.

More than a match for half a dozen humans at a time, Sasha felt no inherent fear of the place, but she was both disturbed and saddened by what she was seeing. Litter was piled in drifts against dilapidated buildings covered in graffiti, their foundations slowly sinking, giving them drunken, leaning appearances. A block down the street was a large group of men who appeared to be gathered around a fistfight. They were laughing, shouting profanity, occasionally throwing garbage from the street into the center of the ring their bodies had formed.

“Lived here. Worked here. Once in a while I had to pick someone up on the corner but not usually. Darren mostly arranged stuff. I uh … I cost too much for most of the guys you find on the street.”

“Why is that?” Sasha asked, more out of instinct than real interest. A moment later her brain caught up with what Molly had said and filled in the blanks. She glanced at Molly, who suddenly looked miserable.

“Rather not talk about it,” Molly said.

“Never mind. I understand,” Sasha said.

They walked down the street in the opposite direction from the fight, and Molly began rattling away, barely pausing for breath, pointing out landmarks.

“Some guys tried to rape me under that bridge. Two and Janice started screaming for Darren and one of the guys pulled a knife and I was like ‘oh shit I’m dead’ but he got up off me and started chasing Two, who I guess he sort of knew, and then Darren came out of the building with this
huge
gun and he just started shooting, right in the middle of the street. All the guys ran away and when the cops came later, me and Two had to go with them to a motel and do a group job. She’d never done it before and after she just kept crying and apologizing and I had to give her some of my smack so she could calm down.”

Molly’s voice had a rough, almost frantic edge to it, and after a time Sasha put her hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“You do not need to tell me these things, Molly, if it’s hurting you.”

“I …” Molly paused, shut her eyes, visibly struggling against tears. After a moment, she looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot. “If I talk about it, I don’t have time to th—think about it.”

“Then by all means, continue, if it helps you.” In truth, Sasha found the stories fascinating, in their own gruesome way. She tried to imagine herself living in this place, selling her body to feed a ravenous addiction, and found it impossible.

“It doesn’t matter,” Molly said. “We’re almost there anyway.”

“I must admit, I’m curious to meet this person that you think can help us.”

“Jerry’s a fixer. He’s … you know … one time I needed some handcuffs with pink fuzz on them. Took Jerry about ten minutes to get them. Or like if Darren needed info on a guy who’d beaten up a girl, or skipped out on paying, Jerry could get that for him.”

“A fixer,” Sasha said. “Yes, I understand the concept.”

“You bring him a problem, he takes care of it. I bet you could bring him a body, and Jerry would know what to do with it. He was always good for free smokes, too. Once in a while maybe he’d ask for a handjob or something, but not always.”

Sasha grimaced, but said nothing.

“That’s his place there,” Molly said. “The one with the neon.”

Sasha glanced up the road. The only visible neon sign was for an adult bookstore.

“This trip just improves with each passing moment,” she said. Molly made a kind of sick laughing sound and nodded. They passed a basketball court, dimly illuminated by a single streetlight. A man was standing, staring at them, holding a ball. Two others knelt in the far corner of the court, passing a glass pipe back and forth. Sasha could smell an acrimonious odor in the air, not tobacco, not marijuana.

“‘Sup, ladies?” the man with the basketball asked.

“Goin’ to see Jerry,” Molly mumbled, not looking at him. She didn’t speed her pace, as Sasha might have expected, simply continued on.

“Yeah? ‘Choo want with that fatass anyway? Should come chill with us. You smoke rocks?”

“Not anymore,” Molly said, shivering a little.

“Shorty goin’ clean,” the man said to his friends. They laughed and returned to their pipe. “Come back if you need something. We got dust, chronic, chiba …”

Molly took in a deep breath, held it. Tears were leaking from the corners of her eyes. Sasha looked down, frowning.

“Chiba’s heroin,” Molly croaked.

“If it will make you feel better, I can ensure that none of those three sell anything, to anyone, ever again,” Sasha told her.

Molly shook her head, wiped her arm roughly across her eyes, gritted her teeth.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “You can’t kill it. You get rid of those guys, some other guys take their place, and they have everything, and people keep on buying. Girls like me keep on smoking crack and shooting up and dropping pills. It doesn’t matter.”