Destiny's Child (Kitsune series Book 3) (24 page)

“Sure, knock ‘em dead, Tiger.”

He hurried off. 

I went in and found a receptionist area: chairs along the wall, a door to an inner office, and a desk with a perky student on duty.  She looked up, eyes unfocused, a smile on her face.  Unlike the other students, she wore jeans and a teal green sweater, rather than the usual weapon-covered leathers most slayers loved.  Her laptop, off to the side, was turned a little my way.  The keys were in Braille. 

A blind slayer?  Well, she would have an advantage, working in the dark.

The petite brunette pointed over her shoulder with a thumb.  “You’re to go right in.”

“Is he in a good mood?” I needed Van Helsing to approve my stay here until I moved on. 

Her smile dimmed.  She leaned toward me, suddenly serious.  “I don’t know if that’s even possible.”

That’s reassuring
. 
Hopefully his treatment of guests is different than what he gives his students.

I drew a deep breath and moved ahead.

She turned her chair to track me as I came alongside her desk.  “Um, you’re really not human?”

I paused.  “Only in my heart, if that counts.”

Her smile returned, more intense than before.  “Only thing that does count.  I’d like to talk to you sometime when I’m off-duty.”

“Sure.  I’m Grace.”

She laughed.

“Something funny about my name?”

“Sorry, no, not really.  You see, my name’s Faith.  All we need now is Hope and Charity.”

I laughed at that.  “It’s kinda cool we’re both named after virtues.” 
And appropriate.  Faith is supposed to be blind; otherwise, it’s not faith. 

I went to the door, tapped a few times, and pushed on in.  Van Helsing was worn and weathered—old, but far from frail.  His pure-white hair was thick and fell to his shoulders.  He dressed in black like an old-time preacher, a cross glinting on his chest.  I felt his aura all the way across the room, like the scrambling of dancing crows hopping all over me.  After his first long inspection, the intensity backed off and I could relax a little. 

He
sat on the forward edge of his desk, his long legs stretched out into the space between two visitor’s chairs.  They were brown leather with brass studs, matching the rest of the masculine décor.  The carpet—unlike the blood red in the rest of the building—was black.  There were black filing cabinets and a wall of shelves with heavy, dusty books that looked a century old.  The light fixture in the middle of the ceiling had been fashioned from an antique wagon wheel.  Another wall held a display of swords: a Roman short sword, a Scottish basket hilt, an Italian rapier, a Civil War cavalry saber, and something that looked like a meat cleaver on steroids. 

Family heirlooms?

“Sit!” Van Helsing said.

My attention leaped back to him.  He was pointing at one of the guest chairs. 
Yeah, like I want to sit real close to you while you loom over me like an angel of doom.
Still, I was throwing myself on his charity, so I couldn’t antagonize him.  Note to self: dial down the snark until you get out of here.

  I pushed myself forward.  At my approach, his feet pulled back so I could round the chair and sit.  I looked up at him, but not in a good way.

“What have you done to yourself now?”  He stared at my antennae.

I felt the need to hide them, but resisted the impulse to raise a hand and do so.

“Never mind.”  He crossed his arms and smiled.  The way a wolf might before pouncing.  “Why are you here, Grace?”

“Because
Madison is my friend, and her mother is in town with her vampire lover.  Maddy needs to face them, and I don’t want her to do it with just Fran for backup.”

“Ms. Madison should have come to me.  I could put an operation together and—”

“No, I think she needs to do this herself, with her friends at her back.”

Van Helsing rolled his shoulders in a shrug, but I noticed he didn’t promise to stay out of things.

I decided to dive in with what I wanted from him.  “So, I’d really appreciate it if I could stay here until things get settled.”

Please, please, please say yes
.

“Sure.”

I stared at him.  That had been too easy.  “You don’t mind?”

“Not very well, no.  My mother was always beside herself.”  There was that scary smile again.  “You know, Grace, I really like you.  For a creature of the night, you’re all right.  Trouble follows you like an Egyptian plague.  But that brings it out in the open where it can be killed.  I like killing things.”

“Oh?”  I shot a glance to the display of swords.  “I would never have guessed.”

TWENTY-FOUR

“The colors of life blaze out of reach.

Being dead is such a pain.

No one to care, to touch, or love.

Starved moments are all the same.”

                                      
                 —It Sucks To Be Dead

                            
                               Elektra Blue

As I told my story, Van Helsing broke in now and then for clarification, extracting every juicy detail of my recent adventures.  He guffawed loudly over the vagabond mouse whisperer turned angel.  “Only you would have a guardian angel like that,” he said.

“I’m not sure,” I said, “but I think I resent that.”

He pushed off his desk and stood.  “C’mon, I’ll get you settled.”

I got to my feet.  “I thought I’d stay with Madison and Fran.”

“For an extended stay, you should have one of the guestrooms we keep for visiting parents—those that aren’t vampire thralls.”  He walked me to the door and followed me through to the outer office.  “Faith?”

Her hands came off her laptop’s keyboard.  Her chair swiveled our way.  She gave us her whole attention.  “Yes, Sir!”

“That’s enough for today.  I want you to show Grace to one of the guestrooms.  She can have her pick since none of them are in current use.”  Having delegated the matter, he stepped back into his office and closed the door.

Faith made quick work of packing her laptop in a black backpack and coming over to escort me.  She didn’t use a white cane, or any cane at all.  “This way.” 

Humming softly to herself, she crossed to the hallway door, and opened it, waiting for me to pass before she shut it.  She took a left and led me to the area of the school where Shaun taught a martial arts class twice a week, when not off on a mission for Virgil.  Faith went to a door on the opposite side of the hall and opened it.  I could see a short passageway with rooms branching right and left.  Four of them in all. 

Still humming bursts of melody, she went on—expecting me to follow—but a deep, unnatural chill rooted me to the spot.  The door closed between us, and I still wasn’t alone.  Along with the cold came waves of hate strong enough to choke on, only I didn’t.  Another of those weird color washes flashed across my mind, a chartreuse film that distorted the hallway for a moment before it faded. 
Am I tasting the ghost?
 

I shook off the thought for later consideration.  I had a ghost to deal with.  If I let her push me around, she’d never stop, never leave me in peace.  And I knew this particular ghost better than I wanted to.  She’d died on this spot, taking a crossbow bolt through the heart that she’d intended for me. 

Should have picked a better sidekick, bitch
.

I kept a look of boredom on my face.  “You’re dead, Elita, and the world’s a better place.  Just get over it.”

The strangling hatred thickened.  I knew I only had to
cross over
to see one very pissed-off ghost.

  The door opened and Faith reappeared, puzzlement on her face.  “Something wrong, Grace?”  She took a couple steps into the wide hall and rebounded off of mid air.  “Cold!  Something dark is here.  I can sense a terrible rage.”

“Yeah, I have that effect on a lot of people.”

“This is a person?”

“Was a person.  You probably know about the girl that died here last month.”

“Oh, yes, of course.  I suppose we’ll have to bring in an exorcist or something.”

“Or I could call on a friend of mine who has a magic sword.  Michiko is the Master ghost over this territory.  She eats naughty ghosts for breakfast.”

Warmth rushed back.  The air of hatred transmuted to one of fear, quickly fading. 

“Yeah, you better run,” I said.

“She’s gone,” Faith said.

“For now, but she died here, so she can’t roam too far.  But she’s had a good attitude adjustment.  I hope it takes.  I really don’t need a ghost breathing down my neck while I’m here.  I’ve got enough to deal with.  So, you were showing me to my room?”

“Oh, yes.  This way.”  She opened the door again and passed through.  I went with her down a beige corridor with a carpet the color of dusty rose.  Recessed light ports in the ceiling provided sufficient, if subdued, light.  Faith stopped in the middle of the corridor, pointing to several doors.  “The rooms are pretty much the same.  Take whichever.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll let you settle in.  Perhaps later, I can come by and…”

“That would be great.”

The hum came back as she headed down the exact center of the hall, pausing just before she would have hit the door.  Her hand went straight to the knob.

“How do you do that?” I asked.

Her head turned, as if she were looking over her shoulder.  “Do what?”

“You’re so accurate in your movements, never unsure.  It’s like you’re not blind at all.”

“Echolocation.”

I blinked at her.  “Echolocation?  That thing that bats do?”

“And dolphins,” she said.  “You just have to have a good ear, and a mind that can translate echoes into images.  My abstract reasoning skills are very high.”

“I guess so.”

“Later.”  She opened the door, restarted her hum, and vanished into the hallway, the door closing behind her. 

Echolocation … wonder if I can do that.
 
It could come in handy, fighting in the dark.  I think I’ll need every trick I can dig up until Destiny gets off my back and I stop being everyone’s favorite Holy Grail.

The guest-suite doors were color coded.  The left wall had sage, then peach.  The opposite wall had a blue so pale it was off-white.  The last door was frosty tangerine.  That was the one I picked, only the knob wouldn’t move. 

And they said these rooms were all available
.

I went to the ice blue door.  Its knob turned at my touch.  I stepped in and hit the light switch, closing the door behind me.  A wash of bright light from ceiling fixtures showed me a room that could have been found in any upscale hotel.  The walls matched the frosty blue of the door.  To my left, a zigzagging wall created a cubbyhole office area complete with desk chair, outside phone line, trash can, and a miniature refrigerator. 

Mexican pottery occupied various steps of the wall, and beyond that was a fan of long, sheer white curtain that half surrounded a bed with a black-iron frame and a navy, yellow, and white quilted bedspread over mattress and sheets.  The blanket had moons and suns with stylized faces.  On a night stand, I saw a lamp with a nautical theme, the body of the lamp being made from a small life preserver; the lampshade, a navy pyramid with the tip snipped off.

The other side of the room had a corner with comfy chairs, a blue and white striped loveseat, square coffee table, and LED TV on the wall.  I saw a kitchenette, and a door that was probably a bathroom.  All of it quite spacious.

Thump!  Thump!

But it had one problem
.

Thump!

Rats in the walls.

Thump!  Thump!

On second thought, the next door room being locked suddenly made sense.  I finally identified the thumping as a bed hitting the wall from the other side.  Two members of Van Helsing’s student body were getting it on where they thought they’d be assured of privacy.  Well, I hated to interrupt anybody having more fun than me, but I didn’t want to encourage it either.  If this was a regular spot used by a lot of students, they’d be waking me up at all hours, giving me lurid dreams.