Vampire U (15 page)

The motel room filled with greasy black smoke, the odor so foul that I began to gag and retch.  I stumbled backward out of the room as the flames began to spread.

The bright light seared my eyes as I staggered toward the Buick.  My hands shook so badly I could hardly turn the key in the ignition, but the engine roared to life on my third attempt, and I hit the gas.  As I pulled out of the parking lot, I glanced in the rear view mirror.  The door had swung shut again, but thick smoke was beginning to seep from the gap beneath the door.  In five minutes, the place would be an inferno.

I wanted to floor it and put as much distance between me and the Sherwood Inn as possible before Carl called 911, especially if he'd noticed the missing key to Room 10 and connected it to the strange girl with the phantom car trouble.  Instead, I forced myself to cruise at the speed limit.  My hands shook wildly, forcing me to put a death grip on the steering wheel.  My breath came in short, uneven gasps, and I could feel maniacal laughter bubbling up from deep in my belly.  I'd just killed a vampire!  I'd tracked him down and despite his superior strength and speed, found a way to reduce him to ash.

I rummaged through the pile of Morgan's things on the seat and grabbed my phone, fumbling it a few times before I finally dialed my roommate's number with trembling fingers.  She picked up immediately.

"Dani?  Where are you?  Is everything okay?"  Her voice made me want to weep with joy.  The detached and miserable husk of a woman had filled with life, her energy so rich that it carried through the phone despite the concern in her honey-thick drawl.

"Everything's fine," I said, laughing.  "How much do you remember about this weekend?"

There was a long pause during which I heard only the hum of the Buick's tires on the asphalt.  Then Morgan whispered, "Too much.  But a few minutes ago, I just... felt better.  Is he gone?"

"He's gone," I said.  "But you're still in danger.  Is Campus Security still in our room?"

"I don't know," Morgan said.  "Those guys really creeped me out, so I came down to the lobby.

"Good, stay there," I said, glancing at her wallet on the bench seat beside me.  "Watch the front windows and meet me outside in twenty minutes."

***

My heart soared when I saw Morgan.  The color had returned to her cheeks, and her blue eyes were bright and lively.  She still looked like she'd lost too much weight, but I had a feeling that would heal in time.

My roommate blinked when she saw the old Buick, but she climbed in anyway, pushing aside a pile of things that she recognized.  "What happened to my purse?" she asked.

"I sort of burned it," I said.  "Sorry."

Morgan snorted.  "No big deal.  Where are we going, anyway?"

"The airport," I said as I pulled away from the curb.  "You're going back to Dallas on the first flight out of here."

"What?"  Morgan shook her head.  "You're crazy.  My parents would kill me if I..."

"When they realize Vic is dead, what do you think the Betas are going to do to you?" I asked.  "You know too much, Morgan.  You need to leave while you still can."

"What makes you think they won't come for me in Dallas?"

I thought about what Momma Bones had told me.  "I don't think they can go very far from here.  You'll be safe, but only if you go now."

Morgan drummed her fingers on her thigh.  "What am I going to tell my parents?"

"Tell them you're not ready for college.  Tell them anything.  I'd recommend not telling them that a vampire drank your blood for two nights running."

"But what about all my stuff?" Morgan said.  I ignored the question and pushed the big car to go a little faster.

"I'll let you know when it's safe to come back," I said, then paused.  "Or if you don't hear from me in a few days, you can send someone to get it.

Morgan twisted to look at me with disbelief.  "You're staying?"

"Until this is finished," I said, realizing that I meant it.  I thought I'd stayed for Morgan, but just as Vic had held her in his power, Mander Deslauriers held me in his.  My feelings for the   vampire were a muddled mess in my head - anger, lust, and a fascination as intense as a schoolgirl's crush, only far deeper.

But even if it weren't for Mander, I knew the evil in Beta House had to be destroyed, or countless other women would continue to suffer.  I was going to pull this kudzu vine out by the roots or die trying.

I dropped Morgan off at Baton Rouge Metropolitan Airport, a name too grandiose for the single terminal structure.  At the curbside drop-off point, my roommate swept me into a fierce hug.  "Thank you for whatever you did," she whispered in my ear.  "Promise me you'll be safe?"

I promised I would do my best, then watched her walk into the terminal carrying her few belongings in a plastic Home Depot shopping bag.  I wondered if I'd ever see her again.  If I did, I hoped it wouldn't be here.

Back in the Buick, I cruised aimlessly around Baton Rouge, past old churches and older mansions, past slums that looked like they'd been thrown together weeks before and would be blown away by the next hurricane.

Vic's death had been a stroke of luck, but it had given me a dangerous confidence, and now I turned my thoughts to the rest of his coven.  I wondered at the dark and secret history that Momma Bones had relayed to me.  It fit well enough with what little I knew of the region's history, but two days ago, my beliefs had been based on logic and reason.  It was hard to convince myself that evil spirits had fed on the local populace for hundreds of years, or that the founder of Louisiana was the immortal leader of a vampire fraternity that harvested young women.  It sounded like a campy movie.

The irony wasn't lost on me.  I'd come to school to study journalism, and now I was embroiled in the biggest story of all time.  Of course, if I wrote it, they wouldn't give me a Pulitzer.  They'd put me in a rubber room and load me up on meds.

I couldn't drive around forever, so I stopped at a strip mall Starbucks in an upscale suburb with lots of people and big windows to let in the sunlight.  The Buick looked like a sore thumb in a row of sleek navy SUV's.

I went inside, drawn by the rich aroma.  Fatigue nibbled at the edges of my consciousness, but I had to keep going.  As I waited for my order, I watched people come and go.  Perhaps it was my imagination, but everyone's eyes held a glazed look, as though deliberately ignoring the world around them.  The barista gave me a hollow smile as she handed me my overpriced coffee, but her eyes slid past mine, gazing into the space above my shoulder.

People sat at tables, hunched over tablet computers and smartphones, but they shifted and squirmed like restless sheep in a pen, unable to comprehend the slaughter that awaited them all.  Was I being paranoid, or had some hint of Baton Rouge's secret predations left its mark on its citizens?  I sat down facing the window and tried not to think about it.  I had enough problems on my mind.

Outside, a few scattered clouds floated across a clear blue sky that made vampires and Momma Bones's surreal history lesson seem far-fetched.  My temples throbbed with the beginnings of a headache, and I knew that caffeine would only keep me going for so long.

My phone rang, and I glanced down to see Jacob's number on the screen.

"Find anything?" I asked.

"Hello to you too," he said in a petulant tone.  "And yeah, I found plenty.  There are plenty of Betas enrolled at Romanus, but when they graduate, it's like they just vanish!  There's not even a roster online, but I tried to cross-reference the names I could find with marriage announcements, LinkedIn profiles, you name it.  Everything's a dead end.  And get this!  They rotate who goes to school.  If you go back about twenty years, the names and hair are different, but you can find a whole crop of guys who look an awful lot like this year's pledge class."

I frowned at the phone.  "Interesting, but it doesn't tell us anything we didn't already know.  What about Le Moyne?"

Jacob snorted.  "Good luck with that theory.  I tried to trace him, but that trail went cold.  It was a lot easier to switch identities two hundred years ago.  Hell, even twenty years ago.  Whoever he is, I don't think you'll find Le Moyne unless he wants to be found."

Remembering Mander's plan to draw Le Moyne, the Elder of Beta House, out of the shadows by killing Alex.  An image of Vic's body bursting into flames flashed through my mind.  In hindsight, my trip to the motel seemed rash, even idiotic.  I'd gotten lucky, and Alex would be far stronger than Vic.  The last thing I wanted was to go toe to toe with something like that again, even with Mander on my side.

 "What if we take everything you found to the police?" I asked.  "They'd have to investigate, wouldn't they?"  The line went silent for several seconds, and I wondered if the call had disconnected.  "Jacob?"

"We can't go to the police, Danielle."  His voice was low and steady and deadly serious.

"Why not?"

"First, because they'll think were pulling a prank.  And when they realize we're serious, they'll probably throw us in the loony bin.  Besides, if Le Moyne has been alive and in Baton Rouge this long, he has to be smart and filthy rich.  He'll have his own people in the police force, not to mention a judge or two in his pocket.  They'll investigate, declare everything normal, and life will go on."

I grimaced at my coffee cup, which my fingers were idly stirring with a tiny plastic straw.  Jacob was right, I knew.  "There's got to be another way.  This isn't just about getting rid of the Betas.  Its' about helping all the girls they've taken."  
And it's about Mander.

"What do you want me to do?" Jacob asked.  I felt a small flare of pride that the 
Scryer's
 editor was looking to me for direction, not the other way around.

"Keep looking," I told him.  "Maybe you'll find something else we can use."

"Are you coming back here?"

"I don't know yet," I said truthfully.

"Call me before you do anything stupid," Jacob said.

I promised I would, and we hung up.  Before I could lower my phone, it rang again.

"Are you alone?" Mander said when I picked up.

I stood up, almost spilling my coffee in the process.  "Are you okay?" I hissed into the phone.

"I told you I'd be fine," he said.  "Listen, I need you to meet me.  Right now."

Remembering the bold daylight attack at the drive-in, I winced.  "Somewhere that a maniac can't drive a van, I hope."

The vampire actually laughed.  "That won't happen this time.  There's an access door beneath the bridge on Cane Street, about a half mile from campus.  It looks rusted shut, but I'll make sure it's open.  Meet me there in an hour.  And Danielle?"

"Yeah?"

"Be sure you're not followed."  He hung up before I could say another word.  Mind racing with a mix of fear and curiosity, I tossed my coffee in the trash and went to my car.

I had no idea how to lose a tail, but I'd seen enough cop movies to keep an eye on the rear view mirror and take several sudden random turns, no small feat in Momma Bones's giant Buick.  When I was satisfied that no spooky black vans with tinted windows had followed me, I headed to Cane Street.  I let the Buick ease to a stop on the side of the road near a small bridge that spanned one of Baton Rouge's many twisting canals.  It was nearly noon now, and the hot autumn sun had begun to bake the city in a blanket of humidity.  Everyone was inside, hiding from the heat as I slipped unobserved through a gap between the chain link fence and a concrete pylon, then scurried down a steep dirt slope to the narrow concrete shelf above the water.  I'd stripped out of my hoodie, but my black t-shirt clung to my figure, damp with sweat.

I peered into the shadows beneath the bridge.  It looked like the last place in the world that a pretty, young woman should go alone.  I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Jacob Crabtree: 
meeting someone beneath cane st bridge, lead on beta house
.  I'd told him I'd call if I did anything stupid, but he would probably try to talk me out of this.  I hated to pull Jacob further into this nightmare, but if something happened, I wanted someone to know where I was.

Following Mander's instructions, I edged along the shelf and ducked under the bridge.  Obscene graffiti covered the walls and curved concrete ceiling, but I kept my eyes on the water beneath my toes.  It flowed sluggish and green, and I wondered how many secrets lay in the mud beneath its dark surface.

The door was right where Mander said, barred with a rusted iron grate designed to keep teenagers and junkies out.  Despite its disused look, it swung open on silent, oiled hinges, and I passed into a dark tunnel of old, moss-covered stone.  A few yards in, a pervasive darkness swallowed the dim remains of daylight from outside.  I peered into the endless blackness, my fear of the unknown numbed by a desire to see Mander again.

I hesitated, wondering this was some kind of trap.  These tunnels would be the perfect place to disappear, but I trusted Mander Deslauriers.  Perhaps more than I should have.

"Mander?" I called in a soft whisper.

"I'm here," he said from the darkness just ahead.

I could barely make out his shape, but my fear melted away, and I ran to embrace him.  "I was afraid you'd be..."

"I'm fine," he assured me as he wrapped me into a cold, firm embrace.  Those undead fingers stroked my hair again, full of a loving tenderness at odds with the monster inside him.  Then he stiffened suddenly.  "I smell another vampire on you, though I can't say who."

"It was Vic," I said.  "I killed him."

He grabbed my arms and pulled me close.  "You 
what?"

I squirmed in his grip.  "I couldn't stand what he was doing to Morgan, so I did something about it."  I told him how I'd tracked down my roommate's captor.  My voice sounded cold and brittle as I spoke, but I couldn't find a shred of sympathy in my heart for the creature I'd destroyed.  Instead, it was pride that filled my heart, pride that I'd taken the fight to these monsters instead of letting circumstances carry me along like a leaf in a stream.

Mander listened in silence, his body unnaturally still in the tunnel's darkness.  When I was done, I felt a shiver run through him.  "What you did was very foolish," he said.  His voice was low and tight, as though he was doing all he could to hold the reins of his anger.  "Vic is... 
was...
 a psychopath.  You could have easily been killed.  Or worse."

"What do you care?  If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be in this mess to begin with," I said, bristling at his lecturing tone.  "Besides, I wasn't going to risk letting Morgan spend another night with him."

The hurt in his voice made me regret my words.  "But you'd risk your life?  Damn it, Danielle!  I've lived longer than any two men, but I've never met anyone like you.  Don't you understand?  Without you, I could never have the courage to move against the Elder.  Before you came along, life just a hollow act of survival.  You gave me something worth living for.  Something worth 
dying
 for.  Together, you and I can change everything.  I won't let you risk that in a foolish quest for revenge."

His words quickly faded to an echo in the narrow tunnel, but their weight left me breathless.  "Kiss me," I said.

His mouth found mine in the darkness, and my desire pulled me up on my toes as I reached for him.  An aching lust stirred deep within me, driven not by a vampire's seductive powers, but by hearing my own hopes from Mander's lips.  His tongue slid between my teeth, and I felt my blood grow hot as it rushed to my skin, seeking him.

He pushed me away suddenly.  "There will be time enough for us later.  It's time for us to end this."

"I can't wait," I said, not sure which one I was referring to.  "Also, I learned who the Elder is," I said.  "Or was, anyway."  The darkness concealed Mander's face, but I felt the surprised tension in his body.  I told him about Momma Bones and Pierre Le Moyne's long journey from explorer to slaver and beyond, and that he'd likely founded the college under a false name.

Mander absorbed this and nodded slowly.  "It seems likely enough, but I hardly remember the face of the man who turned me.  All the more reason we need to kill Alex and draw him out."  His dark eyes shone with murder.  "Le Moyne - or whatever he calls himself now - has let his arrogance and greed endanger us all."

A shiver ran up my spine.  Those weren't the words of the man who had kissed me with such passion, but the words of a cold-blooded killer.  Which man was the real Mander?  "Momma Bones said he's linked to a spirit.  Killing him isn't enough.  He needs to die on the spot where he was created.  Where the Native Americans planted their 'red stick' as a warning.  Do you know where that is?"

"Of course," he said.  "It's a powerful place.  It's where we...  never mind that."  He paused, and I felt something twist in my gut as I realized that despite all I knew, Mander had even darker secrets that he refused to reveal.  "Beta House was built over it."

"Momma Bones told me that the only way we can hurt the evil spirit behind all this is in that spot," I said.  "Is there some way we can lure Alex there without alerting every vampire in Beta House?"

Mander's brow furrowed in thought.  "I think I know a way, but it's risky.  And even if we succeed, we won't know who Le Moyne really is until he reveals himself."  He clenched his angular jaw, and I heard the sound of teeth grinding against one another.

"We've come too far not to try, Mander," I said.

He held me a long time in the dark, as though gathering his courage.  "I just hope we haven't gone too far to succeed.  Do you trust me, Danielle?"

Such a simple question, yet one with no clear answer.  Mander Deslauriers had been a cold-blooded predator longer than I'd been alive.  Who knew how many women he'd destroyed in his hunger for eternal survival?  Yet I knew he wasn't beyond redemption.  His passion told me he that somewhere inside him, a human being still lingered.

"Yes," I told him.  "I trust you."  And really, what choice did I have?

"Then we've waited long enough," Mander said, taking my hand.  "Come with me."  He pulled me deeper into the tunnel, and I stumbled blindly after him.  When I tried to slip my hand free of his, he tightened his grip to let me know that this wasn't up for debate.  I felt the floor slope gradually down beneath us as the narrow tunnel curved and twisted.

Mander was a creature of the night; I knew he could navigate this darkness, but despite my feelings for him, blindly trusting a vampire felt as comfortable as shoving my arm into a basket full of cobras.  I'd let him sweep me along with hardly a second thought, and now it was too late to turn back.  If he abandoned me down here, I could wander lost for days.  Or until something found me.

"What's the plan?" I whispered in the darkness.

"Quiet," Mander hissed.  "We're almost there."

If there's one thing a journalist hates, it's evasive answers.  "Almost 
where?"
 I asked.  My heart hammered, and I felt the unsettling weight of unknowable blackness closing in around me as I fought off panic.

Suddenly, Mander's hand relaxed and released me.  I instinctively lunged forward and groped at the darkness, but my fingers found nothing.  I jerked back, stumbling a few steps as I imagined some deep black well just inches ahead.  I reached out blindly, remembering the narrow walls at the tunnel's entrance, but here I touched nothing.  
That's okay, there are probably spiders,
 a helpful voice in my head informed me.  I told it to fuck off.

"Mander!" I called, afraid at first to raise my voice above a whisper.  There was no response.  He couldn't have gone far.  "Mander!" I cried, yelling now.  "MANDER!"  My voice echoed as though I stood in the middle of some vast concert hall.

I began to shuffle forward, scraping my foot along the floor one careful inch at a time.  Deep grit lined the bottom of the tunnel, untold years of sediment washed in by the city's frequent floods, and it seeped into my shoes and socks.  Now and then, something wet squelched and I tried to strangle my imagination as it conjured up phantoms in the unrelieved blackness around me.

One step, then two.  Then a dozen.  My arms groped in every direction, searching for something solid and real that I could use to orient myself.  Cold, wriggling worms of panic probed at my consciousness.

Then I heard the quiet laughter.

I recognized the low, sinister voice immediately, full of confidence and power.  Alex Golov.