HORROR THRILLERS-A Box Set of Horror Novels (63 page)

"Sorry.
Eighteen. I knew that."

Once on the trail,
riding their horses, Ryan broke the silence first. "So, what did
you want to talk to me about?"

"You might
think I'm out of place, doing what I did last night when you were
with Lori, but . . .”

“
No, go
ahead."

"It's just
that those kids are into some weird stuff. It wasn't any of my
business, but you're new here and I was worried about you."

"You mean not
everyone drinks blood?"

She looked over at
him, surprised. She saw he was about to burst out in laughter. "It's
not funny," she said.

He sobered. "No,
it's not funny, I guess."

"It's . . . I
think the blood stuff is dangerous. People could get, well, they
could get really sick doing that."

"I know. I
didn't partake after you left. Not that I was going to anyway."

But will you? she
wanted to ask. "Ryan, that's what they do," she persisted.
"It's part of who they are."

"Look, if
you're worried I'll turn into a vampire, rest your mind. I've started
reading Stoker's Dracula. The nightlife doesn't appeal."

She smiled to
herself. He'd not get much from Stoker. "They might not want you
hanging with them if they find that out."

He shrugged.
"Maybe."

They had reached
the little creek. Dell pulled up Lightning and got out of the saddle.
"Let's let them drink," she said.

Ryan dismounted and
led his horse to the sparkling water. Sunbeams glanced off its
surface and threw glitters of light into the nearby stand of shadowy
weeping willows. A noisy blue jay flitted from branch to branch high
up, making a racket. A mama bird, no doubt, protecting her nest of
eggs.

The horses snuffled
and bent to the water, wetting their front hooves in the stream's
edge. In the distance, the sun was beginning to set, a flaming
burnt-scarlet ball radiating purple and pink against low clouds. Dell
thought there couldn't be prettier sunsets anywhere else in all the
world.

"Why do you
really care if I get into the vampire stuff," he asked suddenly.

Taken aback, Dell
stared into the running water of the creek. She didn't wish to look
at him and betray herself. "It's just that I know them,"
she said, "and it's the danger in it, that's all."

"You wouldn't
want me to get sick," he said, more softly.

She felt as if he
were peeling her open the way someone shreds the skin of an orange to
expose the soft center. "I wouldn't want anyone to get sick.
Lori. You. Those others. I think it's just a dumb thing to be doing,
that's all. It's not very responsible."

"So it's not
me."

She turned to him
and saw he'd moved from one side of his horse next to where she
stood. "Not you, what?" Ignorance was always a good screen.

"Not me you
wanted to save. I'm incidental. This ride was meant to be just a
plain old warning that you'd want to give to anyone new in school,
right?"

She was looking in
his face, into his eyes, and she couldn't lie to him. She found she'd
stopped breathing. She didn't need to breathe and in times of
distress or during lapses where she daydreamed, she forgot she was
supposed to be human. She took in a showy breath and let it out. She
looked away from him, turned, began to rub down Lightning's coat.

"I guess so,"
she said, answering him finally. "I guess new kids need some
warning."

"Dell, Dell,
Dell."

She turned back to
him.

"You can't
lie, so you blow smoke instead. Why didn't you say you'd go out with
me when I first asked you? Why did it take Lori and the cult thing to
get you to notice me? Lori was a second choice. I don't have any
interest in her world. It's you I wanted to be with, until you made
it plain you didn't want it."

Tears sprang to
Dell's eyes and she had to look down. She couldn't cry in front of
him. He'd see her tears were made of other than salty water. "I
. . . can't . . ."

"Like me? You
can't like me? Am I that terrible? Do I have four eyes or six fingers
on each hand? Is there a booger hanging from my nose?"

Now she laughed,
and the threat of tears vanished. "I like you," she said,
laughing at the face he was making and the gesture of a finger at his
nose. "Stop that."

He stepped close
and put his hands on her waist, suddenly serious. "We'll try one
date. How bad could it be, after the Loden party? We'll see a movie,
eat pizza, go to the mall, whatever you want to do this weekend."

"I like
movies," she said.

"I won't even
kiss you." He let her go and stepped back, his hands raised. "I
promise. No funny business. I'm not one of those guys always out to
score."

He made her laugh.
She loved how he made her laugh. He was telling her serious things in
a way that didn't scare them both.

"I don't know
if you have to go that far," she said.

"Okay, I take
the promise back. Maybe I'll kiss you, maybe I won't." He turned
and leaped onto the bay, hauling back on the reins so it wouldn't get
skittish. "It was the booger thing, wasn't it? Something about
boogers gets girls every time."

They laughed and
talked during the rest of their ride together. When they stabled the
horses and were at Ryan's car, Dell felt good about everything. Damn
what Mentor said. She wasn't going to be lonely and an outcast. She
wasn't going to deny herself good times with Ryan. She didn't have
to, damnit. She could handle herself. It was her life.

"Friday night,
eight p.m.?" He was inside his car, the window rolled down. The
way he was looking up at her, the curve of his lips, the sweep of his
hair over his forehead, made her want to lean down and kiss him. But
she didn't.

"Friday,"
she said. "Yeah."

She watched him
drive away. She wanted to give Lightning a brushing, so she meant to
stay a while. And the whole time she'd be thinking about Ryan. How
cute he was, how funny and sweet. She wanted to think about how good
she felt, better than she'd ever felt before, and how that could not
be a bad thing. It was only a date. She wasn't marrying the guy.

What could Mentor
say?

~*~

Mentor said
nothing. He knew of Dell's interest in her young man, and he kept
silent about it. At least a fourth of all vampires fell in love with
humans at least once. Some of them kept the relationships until their
humans died. A very few turned their lovers into immortals, in order
to keep them. But most watched their humans die and grieved so deeply
they rarely ever allowed themselves to fall in love that way again.

Mentor had been one
of the latter. He'd loved Patrice with all of his soul. He had
wrestled for months over whether he should or could make her vampire
in order to save her from death. In the end he knew he had to let her
go. When she closed her eyes for the last time, she whispered a thank
you to him. She had lived with him for fifty years and knew the
terror of his life. She did not want to be like him. She wanted
instead to die peacefully in her own bed and go to her Creator, whom
she believed in totally. She also believed that one day, when he was
allowed to end his existence as a vampire, he would be with her
again.

Mentor prayed she
was right. He hadn't much faith in that future meeting, but he
continued to love and miss his wife, and he resisted loving another
mortal.

He had warned Dell,
and that was all he could do. He could not dictate to her or force
her to do something she didn't want. He feared for her, but then he
feared for dozens of others like her who had decided to plunge into a
love affair with a human. There was nothing he could do.

He had to shake off
his regrets because he was close to Bette Kinyo's house, and he had
work to do this morning. He had been too careful the last time when
he'd entered her mind and tucked her memories away. This time,
unfortunately, he would have to do a better job of it or else Ross
would murder her. Mentor also had to erase the man's memories as
well. Both of them were getting too close to the truth.

As he walked up to
Bette's front door, Mentor paused and let his power probe the rooms
of her home. He wanted to know where she and the man were, what they
were doing. He really did not want to interrupt an intimacy. Truth be
told, he didn't want to be here at all. Every time he saw Bette, he
was reminded of Patrice, and he seemed to fall in love all over
again. He really didn't want to have to contemplate such an event.

As he searched the
rooms, he easily found Bette, showering in the bath off her upstairs
bedroom. She smelled of soap and lavender shampoo. She diligently
washed her trim, healthy body, humming as she did so. But he could
not find Alan. He searched again, thinking he had been too interested
in finding Bette and had overlooked the man's scent and presence.

No, he was right.
Except for Bette, the house was empty.

Mentor frowned.
Where was the man? Now what would he have to do in order to get to
him? Ross would surely kill him if he spoke to anyone about what he'd
seen at Ross' home. Mentor cared nothing about the man. In fact, he
was secretly jealous of both his humanity and the love Bette had for
him, but he did not want to see him taken from Bette. He liked her
enough to be selfless.

He searched the
house supernaturally for a third time, unbelieving that he could not
find the man. He had to find out where he'd gone.

He was inside and
waiting for her when she came down the stairs dressed for work. Her
hair was still damp, falling appealingly across dark eyes that looked
on him with dread. She halted on the stairs upon seeing him. "Go
away," she said. "I didn't invite you in this time."

"No, you
didn't. But something has to be done, Bette. You're in more danger
now than ever before. Your life hangs in the balance."

She began to back
up the stairs, never taking her gaze off him. "I don't know what
you are, but you must leave here," she said.

"Bette, come
down the stairs to me."

She paused with a
foot poised above a riser behind her. She began to move mechanically
down the stairs again until she reached the ground floor. Mentor
found it incredibly easy to manipulate the actions of humans. They
were no more than puppets under his power.

"Please,"
she pleaded. "Don't."

"If I'm to
save your life I have to, my dear. You're a beautiful woman in the
prime of your life. You're engaged in important work. You're too
young to die at the hands of my colleague. I'm afraid it's the fault
of your young man. He told you information he should never have found
out. Neither of you will be allowed to share it."

"We're right,
aren't we? You're a vampire." Her eyes were wide and
terror-stricken. She began to shake with tremors so that her hands
danced on the ends of her arms.

He stared into her
eyes, hypnotizing her now, coming close to reach out and touch her
pale arms. "I am vampire," he said. "And you must
forget I told you so."

It took only
seconds, but to Mentor it seemed to be a long voyage beyond time. He
found himself lost in her mind's fears. He stumbled through torrents
of emotions that shook him and made him fall back before moving
forward again, as if against a hard gale. He found all the
information that pertained to the blood bank discrepancies, the
memories of what she thought of him and of Ross. He found everything
that pertained to vampires and every word Alan had said to her. He
made sure this time she would not be able to recall them, even if
someone were to try to trigger the memories. He was like an
electroshock machine, scrambling the electronic impulses of her brain
in a specific area holding these memories. They vanished under his
assault, the way memories go dark and die away from electroshock
waves.

When he finished,
Bette again collapsed from the trauma to her mind. He lifted her
gently and set her down on the sofa, straightening her legs, slipping
off her shoes. She had such small, delicate feet, such shapely legs.
He drew back from her. She would wake in minutes and remember nothing
about his visit. And nothing about what Alan had told her.

While in her mind,
Mentor found the information he needed to track her lover. It seemed
that the man had left her early, going before daylight, driving south
to Houston. He ferreted out the man's last name, his profession,
where he worked, the name and address of the old man who had sent him
on a search for an immortal, and Alan's apartment location in the
city.