Thirst No. 2 (9 page)

"You know what I don't like about you?" he asks. "It's your cockiness. I had a cocky girlfriend in high school once. Her name was Sally and she was so sure of herself." He

Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) pauses. "Until she lost her nose and her lips. A girl with only half a face is never a smart mouth."

I wisely keep my mouth shut.

There is a knock at the front door.

Billy pulls the knife higher, still inside my nose, forcing my head back. "Don't make a sound," he whispers. "There is dying all at once and there is dying piece by piece. Believe me, I can take a week to kill you if you try to get their attention."

My eyelashes flash up and down. Yes, I understand and agree.

I know who is at the door. The person knocks again.

Billy is sweating. Clearly he fears some noise has escaped his soundproof spider's lair and that a neighbor has called the police. All he can do is wait and worry. But he is not kept in suspense long. The door slowly opens and a beautiful five-year-old girl with stunning dark hair and large black-blue eyes pokes her head inside.

"Mother," Kalika says. "Are you OK?"

Billy is astounded and immensely relieved. He lowers his switchblade. "Is that your daughter?" he asks.

"Yes."

"What is she doing here?"

"She came with me. She was sleeping in the car."

"Well, I'll be goddamned. I didn't know you had a daughter."

"There are a few things about me you don't know." I glance at Kalika, wondering what I should do: be a good mother, warn her to get away, or remain silent and try to get out of this hell hole alive. Honestly, I don't know how quick Kalika is, exactly how strong she is.

But a vampire her size and her age could take Billy. I speak carefully, "I am not OK, darling."

"I told you," she replies.

Billy withdraws his knife and stands in front of me. He is bleeding as well, and he has plenty of my blood on him. He holds his messy knife in his right hand and he has his shiny revolver tucked in his belt. Plus the light in his eyes is radioactive. He looks as trustworthy as Jack the Ripper on a PCP high. Yet he gestures to Kalika to come closer, as if he were Santa Claus anxious to hear her wish list.

"Come here, darling," he says in a sweet voice.

And she comes, slowly, observing every blessed detail: the composition of the floor, how Billy stands, the height of the ceiling, the arrangement of the furniture—moving precisely the way an experienced vampire would move while closing in for the kill. Her arms hang loose by her sides, her legs slightly apart, well-balanced, and she is up on her toes so that she can move either way fast. Billy senses there is something odd about her. When she is ten feet from him, he drops his smile. For my apart, I watch in wonder and terror. Only then do I realize the full extent of my love for my daughter. I would rather die a dozen times over than have anything happen to her.

"What's your name, sweetie?" Billy asks when she stops directly in front of him. His voice is uneasy, perhaps as a result of the power of her stare, which is now locked on his face.

Kalika tilts her head slightly to one side, ignoring me for the moment.

"Kalika," she says.

He frowns. "What kind of name is that, child?"

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"It's a Vedic name. It's who I am."

"What does it mean?" he asks.

"It has many meanings. Most of them are secret." She finally gestures to me. "You've hurt my mother. She's bleeding."

Billy gives an exaggerated sigh. "I know that Kalika, and I'm sorry. But it was your mother who hurt me first. I only hurt her back to defend myself."

Kalika doesn't blink. "You are lying. You are not a good man. But your blood is good. I will drink it in a moment." She pauses. "You can put your knife and your gun down now.

You will not need them."

Billy is having a night of amazement. His face breaks into a wolfish grin and he looks down at me. "What kind of nonsense have you been teaching this child, Sita?"

I shrug. "She watches too much TV."

Billy snorts. "God, I can't believe this family." He takes a step toward my daughter, his knife still in his right hand. "Come here, girl. I'm putting you in the other room. I have business with your mother that can't wait. But I'll let you out in a little while, if you behave yourself." Billy holds out his free hand. "Come, give me your hand."

Kalika innocently reaches up and takes his hand. She even allows his fingers to close around her tiny digits. But then, in a move too swift for human eyes to properly follow, she grabs his other hand, twists his wrist at an impossible angle, and rams the knife into his stomach. Literally the blade is sunk up to the hilt. An expression of surprise and grief swallows Billy's face as he stares down at what she has done to him. Slowly, as if in a dream, he lets go of the knife. It is obvious his right wrist is broken. Blood gushes over his pants and Kalika stares at it with her first sign of pleasure.

"I am hungry," she says.

Billy gasps for air but finally he is getting the idea that he is in mortal danger, that he might be, in fact, already screwed. Summoning his failing strength, he makes a swipe for Kalika's head. But she is not standing where she was an instant before, and he misses. She is her mother's daughter. Twice she kicks with her right foot, with her shiny black shoes that I bought for her at the mall, and the cartilage in both his joints explodes. Falling to his shattered knees, he lets out a pitiful scream.

"How can you do this to me?" he cries.

Kalika steps over and grabs him by his hair and pulls his head back, exposing his throat.

The calm on her face is eerie even for me to see.

"If you understood the full meaning of my name," she says, "you would have no need to ask."

Billy dies piece by piece, drop by drop.

Kalika satisfies herself before she releases me.

Even I, Sita the Damned, cannot bear to watch.

The following week Kalika attains full maturity, approximately twenty years of age, about the same age I was when I was changed into a vampire. At this point her growth seems to halt. I am not surprised. It is a fact that a human being is at his or her greatest strength,

Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) mentally and physically, just out of his or her teens. Certainly Kalika is very powerful, but how powerful I'm not sure. Except for the incident with Billy, she never demonstrates her abilities in front of me. One thing is sure, though—she no longer needs me to bring her lunch. Now she leaves the house for long stretches of time—on foot and at night. When she returns, I don't ask where she's been or who she's been with. I don't want to know.

Of course that's a lie. I scrutinize the papers each day for reports of unexplained murders.

Yet I find none, and it makes me wonder.

The police have yet to find Billy—what is left of him. I know it is only a matter of time. I hope they will uncover his victims as well.

My hand and shoulder are still bandaged. I did not allow myself the luxury of a doctor and hospital, but I did manage to sew myself up fairly well. Still, I know I will be scarred for life.

The change in my daughter's eating habits means that I no longer need to keep Eric locked in the spare bedroom. Unfortunately, I can't figure out a way to let him go and keep him from running straight to the police. Simply moving to another city, or even another state, is not a solution. Well, it would probably help, but I don't want to move, not until Paula has her baby. Kalika and Ray don't want to move either. They have stated their opinion many times.

So I keep Eric locked up, but have stopped taking his blood. It had been my hope that this would cheer him up, and he'd be able to gain back his strength. But Eric is now deep in the throes of depression and won't eat a bite.

"Come on, Eric," I say as I offer him a hamburger and fries. "This is a McDonald's Big Mac and their golden delicious french fries, large size. I've even brought you a vanilla shake." I touch his head as he refuses to even look at me. He has lost over thirty pounds since meeting me, and his skin is a pasty yellow. There are black circles under his eyes, from his grief, and from the times I hit him. His nose is still broken; he has trouble breathing, especially tied up as he is. I add gently, "You've got to eat something. You're just wasting away in here."

"Then why don't you let me go like you promised?" he asks quietly. "I'm sick—you know I'm really sick."

"I am going to let you go. Just as soon as I figure out the logistics of the release. You understand I have to worry about you talking to the police. I have to be long gone from this place before you are freed."

"I won't talk to the police. I just want to go home."

"I know you do. It won't be long now." I push the hamburger his way. "Have a bite, just for me, and I'll have some of your fries. We can pretend we're in that coffee shop you took me to on our first date."

That is probably not the best thing to say. He begins to sob again. "I thought you were a nice girl. I just wanted to talk to you. I didn't know you would hurt me and take all my blood."

"But I stopped taking your blood. Things are looking up. Soon you'll see your mom and dad. And they'll be so excited to see you. Just think of that, Eric, and try to keep a positive attitude. Imagine what an incredible homecoming you're going to have. You'll be interviewed by every TV station in the country. You can even make your story more exciting than it really was. You can say how a whole horde of vampires tortured you

Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) night and day and used your blood for satanic rituals. The media will love that—they're really into the devil. You'll be a celebrity, a hero, and after that you'll probably get lots of dates. The girls will come to you. Heroes are sexy. You won't have to go looking for girls in the park."

My pep talk is wasted on him. He stares at me with bloodshot eyes and sniffles. "Even if you wanted to let me go, she'd never let you."

I pause. "Who's she?"

"The one you've been giving my blood to."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I've seen her. You serve her and you don't know it, but I know she's not human. I've seen her
eyes,
the red fire deep inside. She drinks human blood and she's evil." He nods like a man who's been granted a vision by God and won't be convinced otherwise. "After she kills me and eats my guts, she's going to kill you and eat your brains."

Well, I don't know what to say to that.

Placing the hamburger in his lap, I leave the room.

Ray is sitting in the living room. Kalika is in the backyard, sitting in the full lotus and meditating with her eyes closed in the bright sun, wearing a one-piece black bathing suit.

She sits on a white towel in the center of the lawn and doesn't move a fraction of an inch, or even seem to breathe. This is a new habit of hers, but I am afraid to ask what she mediates on. Perhaps her own name, or the secret forms of it. They are reputed to be powerful mantras.

Ray looks up at me. "Is he eating?"

"No."

"What are we going to do with him?"

I sit on the couch across from Ray. "I don't know. Let him go."

"We can't let him go. Not now."

"Then we'll let him go later," I say.

Ray shakes his head. "I think that's a bad idea. It will require us to cover our tracks. He'll just give the authorities information we don't want them to have. Think about it a minute before you dismiss it. You said yourself that the government might still be searching for you. What are they going to think when they hear the story of a young man who was held captive by a beautiful blond woman who systematically drained his blood? They'll put two and two together, and they'll start a manhunt for you unlike anything that's been seen in this country. Remember, they still want that vampire blood."

I speak in a flat voice. "What is it you want me to think about?"

Ray hesitates. "Just getting rid of the problem."

"You mean kill Eric and bury him in the backyard?"

"I don't think we should bury him there. But, yes, I don't see how we can let him go and expect to remain free ourselves."

I smile as I stare at him. It is one of those smiles a salesperson gives to a customer. "You know, something just occurred to me."

"What?"

"I don't know who you are. Oh, you look like Ray. You talk like him and you even have his memories. But I honestly don't know who you are."

"Sita, be serious. You have to face reality."

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"That's exactly what I'm doing. The Ray I met and loved would never talk about killing an innocent young man. No matter what the consequences to himself. The idea would never even enter his mind. And one more thing, I've been watching our daughter the last few days and I swear she doesn't look a bit like you. You don't share a single feature. How can that be?"

Ray snorts. "You're the one who should be able to answer that question. You're the one who got pregnant."

"I wish I could answer it. I believe if I could, many other questions would be answered as well."

"Such as?"

I lose my smile. "I don't know how much I should tell you. I don't trust you, and I'm not going to kill Eric. We'll leave here before it comes to that. I don't care if he does set the government on my tail."

"You will not leave here until Paula has her baby."

"Paula's baby is not the topic of this conversation. Also, I notice you're not responding to my accusations. You're not even trying to defend yourself."

"They're so ridiculous. What can I say?" He glances down the hall. "Eric has to die, and the sooner the better."

"Have you shared this with Kalika?"

"Yes."

"Does she agree with you?"

Ray is evasive. "She didn't say one way or the other."

"She never says much." I straighten up and point a finger at Ray. "But let's make one thing perfectly clear. If you so much as harm a single hair on Eric's head, you'll regret it."

Ray is amused. "You're not a vampire anymore. You have nothing to back up your threats.

I'm not given a chance to respond. By chance, if anything is chance, a police car pulls into our driveway at that moment. The two officers are almost to the door when I remember that I have not replaced Eric's gag. I've been letting him be without it for the last few days.

He knows the penalty for crying out.

Yet if he hears the police in the house, what will he do?

Ray runs into the back room, not into Eric's. I answer the door. A blond-haired cop and a dark-haired one. The handsome black one holds a picture of Eric in his hand. Wonderful.

"Hello," he says. "I'm Officer Williams and this is my partner, Officer Kent. We're canvassing the neighborhood for information concerning the whereabouts of this young man. His name is Eric Hawkins. He vanished close to three weeks ago." He pauses. "May we come in?"

"Sure." I open the door wider. As they step inside, I ask, "Was this guy from around here?

Excuse me, please, have a seat."

Kent and Williams settle themselves on my couch. Williams does the talking. He is the leader of the two—his eyes are everywhere, searching for clues. Well-muscled Kent sits content like a comfortable jock after a hard game. I plop down across from them.

"Actually, Eric lives some distance from here," Williams says. "But we have a report from one of your neighbors that a guy who fit his description was seen entering your house.

Also, this same neighbor believes she saw Eric's car parked out in front of your house on

Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) the day he disappeared."

"So you're not just canvassing the neighborhood. You've come here specifically to see me?" I gesture to Eric's picture. "I've never seen this guy in my life."

Williams is grave. "We also have a description from two guys that Eric was playing basketball with on the day he disappeared. They say he left Scott Park in the company of a young woman who matches your description."

I raise my hand, palm out. "Hold on! You do not have
my
description. I don't even know where Scott Park is. What exactly did these guys say?"

Williams consults notes jotted on a piece of folded paper. "That he left the park in the company of a beautiful blond girl approximately eighteen to twenty-one. Her hair was long, like yours."

I'm not impressed. "There are literally tens of thousands of cute blond girls with long hair in Southern California."

"That is true ma'am," Williams says. "You're just a lead we're checking out." He pauses.

"Did you have a guest with a blue Honda Civic park in your driveway three weeks ago?"

"I can't remember. Lots of friends drop by. They have all kinds of cars."

"Do you have a friend who looks like Eric?" Williams asks. "Someone your neighbor might have mistakenly identified as Eric."

I shrug. "I have a couple of friends who resemble him superficially."

Williams glances in the backyard. Kalika was no longer there. "Would you mind if we looked around?" he asks.

"Do you have a search warrant?"

Williams is cagey. "We just stopped by to ask a few questions."

"Then I certainly do mind. Look, I live here with my boyfriend and a girlfriend. We're not kidnappers, and I resent your implying that we are."

Kent speaks for the first time. "Then why won't you let us look around?"

"That's my choice."

"What happened to your hand?" Kent asks, pointing to the bandage that covers Billy's second good swing at me.

"I cut it on a broken glass," I say.

"Hello?" Kalika says softly as she enters the living loom from the direction of the hall, a towel tied around her waist over her bathing suit. "Is there a problem?"

"No," I say quickly. "These men were just leaving."

Williams stands and holds out the picture of Eric for Kalika to see. "Have you ever seen this young man?"

Kalika studies the photograph. Then looks my way with a cool smile. "Yes."

That's my daughter. She would talk about Billy next.

"Where did you see him?" Williams demands, casting me a hard look.

Kalika is thoughtful. "I can show you the place. It's not far from here. Would you like to take me there?"

I clear my throat. "That's not necessary."

"I don't mind," Kalika says. "It's not a problem."

I lower my head. Arguing with her in front of these men will not help.

"Don't be gone long," I say.

Kalika leaves with the officers. She doesn't even bother to change out of her suit. The men

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don't seem to mind. Kalika is more stunning than her mother, and they can't take their eyes off her. I pray they don't take their eyes off her, and that they don't have families. It is them I am worried about now.