Vampire U (13 page)

Momma Bones snorted.  "Girl, I don't want you waitin' round here.  My gospel shows come on soon, and a woman's time with Jesus is a private thing!"

"I thought you believed in Voodoo," I blurted thoughtlessly.

Momma Bones cackled.  "Girl, you know of some law says I can't believe in more dan one thing?  You believe in vampires last week?"

Feeling foolish, I looked at my feet.  "Is there a bus line nearby?"

She laughed.  "Take my car, chile.  I don't hardly use de thing, but my sister's boy keeps it runnin' fair."  She pulled a set of keys from a kitchen drawer.  "Garage door button's above the furnace.

"Oh no, I couldn't," I started, but she dismissed my words with an annoyed wave.  "Girl, dem 
loa
 got all the time in the world, but you best make use of your daylight."  She shoved the keys at me, and her hard glare told me that further argument would be futile.

When I reached out to take the keys, her fingers brushed against mine, and Momma Bones seized up as though jolted by lightning.  Her old eyes went wide as saucers and rolled back until I could see only a sliver of brown above the yellowish cornea.  She sucked in a ragged gasp, and her whole body shook.  Concerned, I reached out instinctively, but the old woman snatched my wrist in hers.  Despite her ages, she had the iron grip of a bodybuilder.

"Don't stand your ground on sand," she hissed at me, her Cajun patois suddenly eradicated.  "Wait until you stand on rock."

Then she released my wrist as though she'd grabbed a hot pan, slumping forward at the same time.  The keys dropped into my hand.  Momma Bones let loose a deep sigh and shook her head, but she seemed unaware of what had just happened.

"Car in de garage," she mumbled, waving toward the kitchen door.  "Be careful."  Without looking back, she shambled over to the couch and slumped down.

I wondered at what she'd said.  Three days ago, I would have dismissed it as random gibberish from an addled old brain, or perhaps the clever act of a charlatan used to bilking low-income housewives out of their savings.

But the world had changed for me the instant I'd seen a man with fangs explode in the sunlight.  Or perhaps before, when I'd realized that some men could slip into my mind as easily as most girls' pants.  I'd always been eager to dig up secrets and reveal the unknown, but now I wondered if I hadn't wandered too far into the dark. 

"Thank you," I said, waving goodbye.  The old woman just stared at her television, ignoring me.  Keys in hand, I headed for the garage.

The big overhead door rolled upward to the whining protest of an ancient motor, and early morning light spilled in, illuminating the sweeping curves of a big, clunky Buick Le Sabre that was too unremarkable to ever be called a classic.  This one's paint was the burgundy of dried blood, its upholstery inspired by red velvet cake.

I backed out of the narrow one-car garage with exaggerated care.  There were only a few inches of clearance on either side, and the car's mirrors were a finger's width from a lifetime of clutter, all of it stacked to dangerous heights and precariously balanced.  As the Le Sabre rolled out onto the street, I glanced back at the house once more.  Inside, Momma Bones would be watching her gospel shows by now.  I wondered if I would see her again, or if the police would find her car abandoned on some quiet stretch of road outside of town.  I hoped she would say a prayer for me.

After I left, I went back to the dorm to get my purse and phone.  The morning sky was a beautiful mottled orange, with high, thin clouds illuminated by the rising sun.  It was going to be a beautiful day, and the horrors of the last two nights felt so vague and abstract that I wanted to believe they weren't real, that I'd just awoken from a horrible dream.  But the old Buick was proof enough that this was real.  My eyelids felt heavy as I drove, and I tried not to think about how little sleep I'd had.  Perhaps I could lie down for an hour or two when I got to my room.  If the vampires of Beta House could sleep all day, why shouldn't I?

I climbed the stairs like a zombie, my mind on little else but that comfortable feeling of nestling beneath a soft comforter.  But my hopes of slumber shattered like crystal when I reached my floor.  The door to my room stood wide open.  My breath caught in my throat, and I froze, ready to flee.

"There you are."  The voice made me jump, and I spun to find Lara Bauer standing behind me.  How did a woman that big move so quietly?  She looked me up and down and shook her head.  "You look almost as bad as your roommate."

"Is she here?" I said, immediately wishing I hadn't.

"Here and facing a conduct violation for sleeping off-campus as a freshman," Lara said.  "Oh, and Campus Security is coming to search your room.  I hope for your sake that it's clean."  I hadn't seen Lara since Alex Golov ordered her to return to her room and forget all she'd seen.  She looked like she'd suffered a night of fitful sleep punctuated by nightmares.  I didn't like Lara, but I hoped Alex's forceful command hadn't left a scar on her mind.  I turned away from her and went to my room.

"That door stays open!" she called.

Lara was the least of my problems right now, and I kicked the door shut behind me out of angry spite.  It rattled in its solid old frame.

Morgan sat on her bed, staring at the opposite wall with a flat, dead gaze.  She hadn't even flinched at the slamming door.

"Morgan?"  I went to stand in front of her, but she didn't respond.  She looked like she'd lost ten pounds overnight.  Her full breasts seemed withered, her face hollow and pale.  I understood Lara's suspicion; she looked like a junkie.

I sat down on the bed beside her and wrapped my arms around her slender shoulders.  She was taller than I was, but her athletic frame had withered, and it felt as though I held a frail child.  "I'm so sorry," I whispered, my voice quavering with emotion.  A tear trickled down my cheek and fell onto her back, leaving a wet spot on the bright red Romanus University shirt she wore.  A tremendous guilt settled on my shoulders like a thick steel chain.  I knew it wasn't my fault that I'd let Morgan drag me to the Equinox Ball.  I could never have guessed at the dangers.  But in that terrible moment when Vic had put his mouth to her throat, I'd known she was in trouble.  Just when she'd needed me most, I'd panicked.

Last night, even knowing what they'd done to her, I'd hardly given my roommate a thought.  I'd been busy trying to escape from Alex, but where had Morgan gone?  Whatever hell I'd been running from, she had already discovered.  
And you will too,
that quiet voice in the back of my head reminded me.  
Mander's bitten you now.  You can't walk away from this.

I hugged Morgan harder.  "I'm going to find a way to make things right," I promised her, surprised by the ferocity in my own voice.  "You're going to be okay."  
We're going to be okay.

Morgan let out a little sob and buried her head against my shoulder. I rocked her gently as the tears came down.  "It was awful, Dani," she said.  "I don't understand what's happening to me, but when Vic tells me to do something, I can't stop myself."

"Shh," I said, patting her back.  My head rested on her shoulder, and I looked down past her careless blonde tumbles at the smooth comforter.  Morgan hadn't slept here; that was plain.  "Did you spend the night at Beta House again?"

She shook her head.  "No, a cheap motel on the interstate.  He said he wanted me all to himself."  Morgan leaned back, and when I saw her blue eyes shining with sorrowful tears, my heart nearly broke.  "I'm so scared, Dani.  He makes me do things... things I've never let a man do before."  Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she suddenly looked far younger.  "And the worst part is, if he did want to share me with his 
brothers,
 I'm not sure I could say no."

My heart was so full of hatred for Beta House that poisonous bile seemed to rise in my throat and shrivel my tongue.  Kara Thompson had been this way once, a scared young woman who didn't understand what was happening.  I couldn't let Morgan become a hollow shell like Kara.

Tired of letting things happen to me, I decided to make something happen.  "Which motel was it?" I asked.

Morgan blinked at me.  "I...  I don't remember its name."

"Was Vic still there when you left?"

She nodded.  "He was sleepy after...  Told me to get a cab home."

"When was that?"

"It was really late," Morgan said.  "Or early, I guess.  The sun came up while I was on my way back here."

I felt a buzz of excitement.  Vic might still be in the motel room.  As unlikely as it seemed, I knew this was my chance.  A heavy pounding jolted us both.  Morgan flinched as though she'd been struck, and I sprang to the door.  "Who is it?"

"Campus Security," a deep voice said.  "Room inspection."

"Can't this wait?" I said.  "We're in the middle of something!"

The man outside laughed.  "That's not how this works, honey."

Exasperated, I threw open the door to find a pair of familiar faces.  The two security guards who had tried to abduct me last night stood side by side.  Pornstache grinned in recognition.  "Look, it's the little troublemaker," he said.  He stepped into the room's narrow entrance, blocking my path with his wide shoulders.

I backpedaled into the room as he bulldozed ahead.  As the second man slithered in behind Pornstache, his beady eyes slid to Morgan.  I scooted protectively in front of her, glaring in defiance.

The security guards sauntered casually around the room, snooping here and there at random.  I stood in the center of my own room, powerless to stop them.  Pornstache opened my the top drawer of my dresser and pulled out a pair of my underwear.  "Granny panties?" he said with a grin.  I should have felt violated; he was 
trying
 to make me feel violated, but after all I'd seen, fondling my laundry seemed like a minor offense.

"Fuck you," I said without any real conviction.

"Now, now, mind your manners.  I'm just doing my job, young lady," he said with a shrug, sifting slowly through my underwear.  "By the way," he said as he twirled a thong bikini on his index finger a few times before tossing it back into the drawer.  "We're going to take you to the security office after this.  We can't take any chances that someone might be after you, so we'll take you somewhere safe tonight."

I thought of Alex.  There was no way in hell I was going to let these goons trap me like a rat in a cage until the sun went down.  And sweet Morgan didn't deserve another night with Vic.  But Pornstache's shoulders were tensed as though he was ready to pounce if I refused him.

"That's fine," I said meekly.  "I'll come with you."

Pornstache gave me a searching, suspicious look, but then his partner said, "Hey Pete, take a look at this."  Pornstache turned toward Morgan's desk, and when their backs were to me, I eased over to the table by the door.  My purse and Morgan's sat side by side.  I snatched them both and slipped out of the room.

Lara stood in the hall, hands on her hips, and I pushed past her without a word.  "Hey, where do you think you're going?  Danielle?  Danielle!  Security!" she cried.

I took off at a dead run, only glancing back as I slammed open the door to the emergency stairwell.  Pornstache and his partner burst from my room like a couple of low-rent Jack-in-the-Boxes.  I thought they would chase me, but they just stopped in the hall and watched with amused expressions.

"There's nowhere you can go, Danielle!" Pornstache called.

I turned and ran anyway, abandoning Morgan once more.  The shame of my cowardice burned my face, but I knew I couldn't help her if I wasn't free to act.  And if Alex got hold of me, I might never be free again.

Even though my Civic was in the parking lot, I took Momma Bones's car instead.  It handled like an aircraft carrier, but none of the Betas knew I had it.  I pushed the door locks down once I was inside, then opened Morgan's purse.

"Come on," I said quietly as I rummaged through Morgan's dizzying array of makeup, tissues, and crumpled scraps of paper that I recognized as credit card receipts.  Suddenly hopeful, I began unfolding them, smoothing them on the worn velvet car seat until I could read the grainy gray type on each slip.

Morgan had taken a taxi home, and those weren't cheap.  Would Vic have paid?  I doubted it.  I glanced at the vendor name at the top of each receipt before carelessly tossing them onto the floor - fast food chains, a gas station, a few bars.

Then I found one for Armstrong Taxi.  Today's date was at the top, the timestamp just a couple hours old.  It had cost Morgan nearly forty dollars to ride back to the dorms, and she'd tipped the driver another ten.

When I called the cab company, a bored-sounding woman answered.  "Armstrong Dispatch," she said with a mellow southern drawl.

Heart racing, I began to lie, praying she would buy my story.  "Hello.  I...  I took a ride in one of your cabs last night, but I was pretty drunk and don't remember where it picked me up.  It was a motel on the interstate, and it's important that I get back there.  You see, I left my..."

"Do you have a transaction number on your receipt?" she interrupted, indifferent to my tale of woe.

I read off the five-digit code above Morgan's scrawled signature.

For a few seconds, I only heard the clatter of a computer keyboard.  Then the woman said, "Pickup was at Sherwood Inn at 6:45 AM."  She gave me an address on I-10.  "Will there be anything else?"

"Um... no, thank you."  I hung up, suddenly uneasy.  Until now, my rage against Vic had been an abstract thing I couldn't really act on.  Now I knew exactly where he was, and I wasn't likely to find him any more vulnerable.  This would be the true test: Did I have the courage to go on the offensive?

The Buick's deep, earthy smell reminded me of Momma Bones. and gave me some small comfort as I headed for the interstate.  Knowing it would be foolish to go in unarmed, I stopped at a Home Depot and bought a half dozen stakes from a big bin in the gardening department.  They were made of soft pine, but sharpened to long, narrow points.

When I got back in the car, I pulled one out of the cellophane bag, trying not to feel ridiculous as I stabbed at the air.  Vic was a vampire, and I'd seen enough to know he would be supernaturally fast and strong.  I wondered what I could hope to accomplish against such a predator.

Trying not to think about my chances of success, I got back on the interstate before I could lose my nerve.  I'd only gone a couple of miles when my cell phone rang.  Jacob Crabtree's name appeared on the screen, and I pressed Talk.

"Dani!  I saw your call.  You ready for a ride?"

I laughed to myself as I steered the massive land yacht around a semi truck.  "No, I borrowed Momma Bones's car.  Did you expect me to wait around all morning?"

"Sorry, Dani.  You just looked so tired last night.  I figured you'd maybe gone to sleep or something."  In a lower voice, Jacob said, "Hey, I hope she didn't creep you out.  Did you learn anything?"

Keeping it brief, I told him about Le Moyne.  In the bright morning light, the story sounded ridiculous, despite the intense certainty I'd felt that Momma Bones was telling a truth not heard in centuries.  I kept the rest to myself, the speculation about some secret hidden beneath Beta House that could kill the evil for good.  I also didn't tell him where I was going.  I knew Jacob wouldn't think I was capable of any Buffy-esque feats, and the last thing I needed was him calling the cops for my own good.

Jacob sounded thoughtful as he chewed on the names.  "Le Moyne, huh?  That's a pretty wild theory.  And she thinks this vampire's stayed hidden all these years?"  Through my phone's speaker, I heard the tap-tap-tapping of a pencil as Jacob's mind worked.  When he spoke again, manic enthusiasm filled his voice.  "Let me try to find out what Le Moyne calls himself now.  There must be a trail.  I'll call you in a couple hours."

Twenty minutes later, the Buick Le Sabre sat idling in front of a kitschy motel that might have been a tourist trap forty years ago.  But the neighborhood had gone to hell, and now the Delta air was gradually eating away at the building's faux-medieval trim with a lethal combination of salt and humidity.  Now the Sherwood Inn was living out its last days as a sleazy no-tell motel.  Ten rooms lined the one-story brick structure with a long parking lot separating the building from the street.  Steel grills covered dirty windows shrouded from the inside by thick brown curtains, and each door had a sturdy deadbolt.  The morning sun had risen enough to cast a shadow beneath the long awning that stretched across the facade.  A sleek Mercedes sport coupe sat in front of the last room, its windows tinted a deep black, its body painted a crimson that shone like fresh blood.  
Red for Beta,
 Morgan's voice echoed in my mind - a happier, more innocent Morgan.  How could a few days have changed everything so completely?

Parking in front of the office at the end of the row, I took a deep breath and got out.  A neon VACANCY sign leaned against the front window, turned off or broken.  Inside, a sallow middle-aged man with a patchy beard and a sagging paunch slouched in front of a dusty computer.  He wore a rumpled polo shirt and a brown plastic nametag with "Carl" engraved in block letters.  Carl's uncurious eyes glanced up at me when the little bell above the door jingled to announce my entry.  His glance darted downward to my chest for a moment, then went back to the computer.

A two-by-four mounted on the wall behind his head held brass screw hooks spaced every few inches.  Metal keys dangled from the hooks, their plastic fobs numbered 1 through 10.  The first nine hooks held two keys, but one of the keys for Room 10 was missing.