HORROR THRILLERS-A Box Set of Horror Novels (67 page)

Bette, to his
relief, met him at the door looking serene and beautiful. She had
donned a hip-hugging, ankle-length, traditional Japanese gown. It was
turquoise satin, embroidered all over with tiny black flying birds.
He had seen her in traditional dress only once before when he'd
arrived to take her to dinner. It always took him aback to remember
that though she was thoroughly American, she upheld the past
traditions of her forebears.

"You look a
fright," she said, smiling and leading him inside. "Would
you like some tea?"

It was as if she
knew he was coming back. There was a Victorian rose hand-painted tray
on the coffee table holding two cups and saucers, sugar, creamer, and
a bamboo-handled teapot.

"How did you
know I was coming back right away?" He leaned over to touch the
teapot and found it still warm. How could she have possibly known?

"Sit down,
Alan. I have something to tell you."

“
I think you
do." He sat on the sofa while she poured tea, dropped two small
cubes of sugar into his cup, stirred, and handed it over. "And I
have something to tell you, too."

"You first, if
you like," she said.

"I went to
Upton and told him about the vampire. He went crazy. He said the one
I'd seen would track me down, and finally, it would find him. He
really just freaked. When I left, he was packing and preparing to go
away somewhere to hide. He told me to do the same thing."

Through the recital
Alan saw that Bette nodded her head, sipped her tea, and didn't seem
at all tense. What did he have to do, spell it out? That's what he'd
do then.

"Bette, they
might come for us."

"Now I'll tell
you my news," she said, putting down the teacup. "They've
already come for us. We just didn't understand what was going on."

"What do you
mean?"

"You know the
old man who showed up here a couple of times? And the last time my
memories about the blood bank seemed to elude me when you tried to
discuss it?"

"Yes."

"Well, that
man, the old man, he's sort of like a leader. He's one of the most
powerful ones. He came again not long after you left."

Alan inched forward
on the sofa's edge. He wanted to leap up and stomp around, do
something physical. He felt wound as tight as a cheap alarm clock.

"What did he
do?"

"He invaded my
mind again and tried to take away all my memories. Even as he was
doing it, I caught the impression that he was going to find you next
and do the same thing. I can't tell you how I knew it, but I did.
When I woke, he was gone, and I knew something was terribly wrong,
although I didn't remember yet that he'd been here. I went upstairs
to pray."

Alan knew about her
altar and the faith she put in her religion. He nodded, thinking her
response was a normal reaction to her victimization.

"Alan? I
haven't told you everything about myself. I thought you'd laugh or
ridicule me."

"I'd never do
that."

She shook her head.
"You might have. You weren't raised my way and you don't know my
faith. You also don't know that I have had . . . abilities . . .
since I was a child."

"Abilities?"

"Maybe you
might call them 'powers.' I can get in touch with other people, a
sort of telepathy. I've even done it with you sometimes when you've
been down in Houston and hadn't called for a while."

"I never knew
that."

"No, of
course, you didn't. I just sent a subtle message that you should feel
as if you needed to call me, get in touch. I could have just picked
up the phone and called you, but then that's not the same, is it?"

He stared at her.
He wasn't sure exactly what she was telling him. She could do what?
Manipulate people by some kind of mind control?

"Yes,"
she said, smiling slyly. "I can manipulate people when I want
to."

Alan sat back
abruptly. "How'd you do that?"

"Read your
mind?" She laughed. "Look, our reality isn't as it seems.
There's work going on in physics that astounds the physicists. Down
at the atomic level, things are going on that we never even imagined.
Subatomic particles aren't predictable. They sort of wink out and
back into existence. No one knows exactly what that means yet. It
does mean things aren't the way we thought. And you know reality
isn't as simple as it appears. Not now that you've been witness to
murders performed by a vampire. You followed the old man, you said,
and then he suddenly disappeared. How difficult is it to believe that
I can also perform feats that seem fantastic? All humankind can do
these things, if they're trained, and if they believe. It's not as
rare as you think."

"Is that what
you wanted to tell me?"

"That's not
all," she said. She stood and began to walk the length of the
room, holding her small hands clasped in front of her. The satin of
the dress swished against her legs as she moved. "After I
prayed, the memories the old man had taken from me were restored. I
knew what he'd done. So I . . . I sent him a message."

"The way you
sometimes did for me when I was in Houston?"

She turned and came
back toward him. "Yes. And the old man appeared. Alan, he was on
his way to do something to your mind. My call stopped him. If I
hadn't done that, you wouldn't even remember now what it is we're
talking about."

"So he came
back? What did you do when he came back?"

"I made a pact
with him."

"You what?"

"I told him we
would drop all this. We wouldn't interfere with the vampires in this
city. We'd never tell anyone. But . . ." She sank into the
chair, her chin almost touching her chest. "I was too late. You
told Charles Upton, and now he knows, too."

"Bette, how
are we supposed to let this go? We discovered there are vampires and
we're supposed to keep it to ourselves? That's impossible! And
besides, I was hired to find them and report back to Upton. I did
what I promised him I'd do."

She raised her
head, and in her eyes he saw pity. "You still don't understand,
do you? I made a promise. In order for the two of us to stay safe, I
promised we'd let it go. I imagine the old vampire will know you
told. And he might forgive you, on my behalf, because I made my
promise after you revealed the secret."

"And if he
doesn't forgive me?"

"He'll kill
us. Or let us be killed, same thing.”

“
You don't
really believe that, Bette."

She took up her
teacup and sipped slowly before replying. "Oh, yes, I do believe
that, Alan. I believe it with all my heart. I know it."

"What can we
do?" He was prepared to go along with what she said. He couldn't
help but believe she knew more about what was happening than he did.

"We can wait.
And we can never speak of them again, Alan. Ever. I've promised."

Alan thought about
a world where vampires lived and shipped huge amounts of blood all
over the state, vampires who could enter a person's mind, and wipe
out memories, vampires who took innocent life without any regret. He
shuddered uncontrollably. He was a man of science dropped into an
alternate universe where nothing was as it appeared. Where monsters
dwelled and telepathy was practiced easily by the woman he loved.

He brought his hand
to his forehead as if to make it all go away. He didn't want to know
what he knew anymore. He would have been happier if the old vampire
had come to him and cleaned his mind of these unholy bits of
knowledge.

"You know,"
Bette said, reading his mind again. "There is no unknowing. But
you have to let it all go now, Alan. For my sake, if not your own."

"And we just
hope we aren't going to be murdered in our sleep, is that it?"

"There are no
alternatives," she said. "Would you like more tea?"

Alan slumped back
into the sofa and let his hands rest alongside his thighs. He was so
tired. He'd driven to Houston and back all in one day and it had left
him drained. Night was coming fast outside the windows where
moonlight crept through the panes onto the floor.

“
Yes,”
he said finally, "more tea, please. And turn on the lights, if
you don't mind. It's getting dark in here. I hate the dark lately."

~*~

Upton's butler
served equally well as his chauffeur. They were in the black
limousine waiting in the parking garage when Alan left the building.
Upton had hurried, carrying with him little more than credit cards,
cash, and an overcoat. He was easily chilled by the air conditioning
in cars.

They followed Alan
from the city onto the freeway north to Dallas, always keeping a safe
distance so that he wouldn't notice the unusual car tailing him. When
he parked in front of Bette Kinyo's home, they drove past and around
the block, then back again, parking down the block a bit. Upton could
just see the front walk to the little home and knew if the couple
looked outside, they'd never spot the limo.

George, Upton's
butler and chauffeur, killed the engine. He said, "Should I get
you anything, sir?"

Upton wanted a
Coke. And Fritos. He also wanted a hot dog. His tongue tingled with
the thought of the bite of mustard, the crunch of relish and onions.
"Is there a store nearby?"

"I'll find
one, sir."

Upton explained
what he wanted to eat and sat still and peaceful in the comfortable
leather seat waiting for George's return.

A dark-skinned
child neared the window where Upton sat and tapped gently. Upton
lowered the window a few inches. "What do you want?" he
asked.

"Are you lost,
mister?"

"No, young
man, I am not lost. Now go away.”

“
I was only
trying to help."

"Shoo, shoo,
fly, shoo," Upton hissed, raising the window again. He knew the
limo stood out in the old rundown neighborhood, but what choice did
he have? The hood characters would never get to him anyway, even if
they used baseball bats. The limo was special order, the sort used
for politicians, for presidents. It was nearly impregnable, a
fortress on wheels. Unbreakable glass that could stop bullets,
reinforced tires, and locks on the doors that could not be jimmied.

When George
returned half an hour later with the food, Upton fell upon the hot
dog ravenously. He hadn't eaten since breakfast. "I hope you got
yourself something," he said. "We're going to be here as
long as it takes."

"I ate on the
way back, thank you, sir."

"Right."
Upton ripped open the Fritos bag and began to shovel them into his
mouth. His lips, frozen, and without any feeling at all, impaired his
eating, but did not completely deter him. He thought the junk food
scrumptious. He hadn't eaten hot dogs in years.

~*~

Mentor arrived at
Dell's house late. He'd been quite busy with new Naturals making the
change. Of course, had he not been present to help them when they
died, they might not have chosen to be Naturals, and he'd have been
neglecting his duty. Still, he'd kept tabs on Dell and knew all about
her involvement with the mortal, Ryan.

He knocked out of
courtesy, but the door opened instantly as if Dell's mother knew he
was on his way. They were all able to sense one another, even at some
distance.

"You've come
to see about Dell?" she asked. There were worry lines on her
brow. Not only was her young son coming to an age when he would soon
have to leave the family or be suspected of being some kind of
abnormal child who never aged, but now her daughter, a vampire, was
falling in love with a boy at her school. Life was never easy for a
parent.

"Yes," he
said. "I'm taking her for a stroll."

Dell appeared in
the entrance hall just as he spoke. "You want me?"

"I thought
we'd go for a walk, Dell. We have things to discuss and you missed
your evening meeting at my house."

Real surprise
showed on her face. "Oh! I forgot, didn't I? I'm sorry, Mentor."

"Don't
apologize. Just come along with me."