Microsoft Word - The Mammoth Book of Vampire Romance.doc (63 page)

If Dad had stuck around, we could afford shit that actually

works!

I wasn’t really worried about Luci getting lost.  Her school was only four blocks from our house, and she’d been driven that route every school day for the last year and a half. But it was awfully cold, and she always forgot to zip her coat. And if she

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got sick, Mom would have to take time off work to watch her all

night, which meant her cheque would be short next month.

However, as I drove, our financial worries slipped to the back of my mind, replaced by a much grimmer possibility. What if something went wrong? Six years old was too young to walk home  alone, even in a kid’s own neighbourhood. Especially with some psycho out there draining children and exposing their bodies to fry at dawn.

Suddenly my errand seemed much more urgent, even as I told myself that she was fine. There was no way the school

would let her walk home alone.

I ran two stop signs and one yellow light on my way to the elementary school and, when I finally got there, my heart seemed to sink into my stomach, anchoring my fear. The parking lot at the rear of the school was where kids usually waited for their parents. They stood on the sidewalk next to the building, watched over by a selection of teachers until their parents’ car made it to the front of the line wrapping around the school.

But when I got there, there was no queue of cars and no children lined up on the sidewalk. Instead, a single adult presided over at least a dozen kids fighting for a basketball lit from within by a flashing LED.

I didn’t bother inspecting the children. The lot was well lit and Luci was not among the players. Even if I hadn’t known what she was wearing  –  and I
 
did
 
since I had dressed her myself  –  I knew she hated basketball.

My keys jangled as I pulled them from the ignition and shoved them into my front pocket. I licked the car door shut and crossed my arms over my chest to hold my jacket closed as I ran

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across the narrow strip of crunchy grass and shoved open the

rear entrance.

The halls were a maze of mostly closed doors and walls covered in student artwork. An antiseptic smell permeated the air as  the custodians cleaned in the children’s absence, and it took every bit of self-control I had left to keep from running full-out to the front of the school.

I settled for a fast walk instead, my shoes squeaking on the tile, my heart pounding at least three beat per step. Logically, I knew Luci was most likely perfectly safe. Probably sitting in a chair in the principals office, snacking on whatever they had handy, filling in pages in a colouring book. But every moment that passed without Luci throwing herself into my arms and pouting over how late I was, deepened the sense of panic rapidly tightening my chest.

Something was wrong. I was sure of it.

I rounded the last corner and the office came into sight, its two windows covered by white mini-blinds, blocking the view from within. I jogged the last eight feet and pulled the office door open much harder than I’d intended to.

Inside, all heads turned my way. Two secretaries stood between a tall credenza and a broad dark window with a view of the front parking lot. In one corner, a teacher’s aide was making photocopies on an ancient, rumbling machine. But there was no little girl with soft white curls. The child-size bench across one wall was empty.

“Lucinda Cartwright,” I said, panting from exertion I hadn’t

even felt until that moment. “Where’s Lucinda Cartwright?”

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“She’s . . .” One secretary looked to the other for assistance,  tapping a stack of papers on her desk to even the edges, then  turned back to me when the other woman merely shrugged.

“She’s gone. All the children have gone for the day except

for the after-care kids playing ball outside.”

Oh shit
. Fear traced my veins like ice, and my panic suddenly felt justified. “Where’d she go?” I demanded laying my palms flat  on the credenza, crinkling a volunteer sign-up sheet.

“I don’t . . .” That same secretary looked  to the side then,

whose tag read ‘MS CYNTHIA’.

Cynthia cleared her throat and flashed small, delicate fangs in a smile designed to placate small children and calm worried parents. I was neither, and her smile didn’t do jack-shit for me.

“She was picked up with the other children, about fiftenn

minutes ago,” Cynthia said.

I turned my full attention to Ms Cynthia, whose left index finger now hovered over a green button on the photocopy machine.

“Who picked her up?”

“I didn’t see.” She shrugged. “But she was gone before the

last student left.”

My hands clenched at my sides and my jaw tightened. “You don’t
 
know
 
what happened to a six-year-old placed in your care?” She started to answer, but  I cut her off. “So, you either let her wander off on her own, or you sent her home with someone who didn’t have permission to pick her up. I know this because my mother and I are the only ones who have permission to take

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Luci from school, and
 
she
 
just called and asked
 
me
 
to do it. So for the last time,
 
where is my sister?
”

“I don’t know,” Cynthia finally admitted, her copies now

forgotten.

Damn it
. I spun towards the secretaries again and felt my upper lip curl back from my teeth, exposing my fangs in what I hoped was an obvious and terrifying threat. “Call the police.”  No one moved, so I slammed my hand down on the desk again.  “Now!”

The secretaries jumped, and one snatched the phone from its cradle, already dialling when I whirled on the aide in the corner.  “My mother works for one of the largest law firms in the state, and if anything happens to my sister, she’ll name you
 
personally
in a lawsuit. By the time her boss is done with you, you’ll wish you were born on a beach at high noon.”

With that, I pulled the door open so hard it slammed into the wall, and I was racing through the halls again. There was no time to be awed by my own nerve, because I was busy being amazed by their incompetence.

How could they let a first-grader just wander away?

With any luck she’d simply walked home on her own. I’d go home, and she’d be on the couch, munching on blood pudding  and watching cartoons. Or maybe she hadn’t made it home yet. Maybe I could still catch her . . .

The back door of the school slammed shut behind  me, and heads turned my way from the basketball court, where another aide was now rounding up the children to herd them inside.  Moonlight glinted off the windshield of my car  –  the only one in the lot  –  as I pulled open the door and slid behind the wheel.  I

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backed out carefully, watching for stray children in the red glow

from my tail lights.

I went one block east then turned and flicked on my high beams, driving slowly as I scanned both sides of the road for  Luci. I saw several children, most a little older than my sister and walking alongside older siblings or parents. They were bundled against the cold, their faces blurred by the darkness, except where  the streetlights shone. But by the time I was two blocks from home, they had all reached their houses  and gone inside, except for one trio of kids playing flashlight tag several yards down.

The street was practically deserted, as if people knew something bad was coming. The tightness in my chest had spread to both arms, filling me with an impending sense  of danger, as if dawn was looming just over the horizon.

But the clock in my dashboard said it wasn’t quite three in the morning, and we had nearly four blessed hours of darkness before the sun would blaze a trail across the city, chasing everyone inside.

A block and a half from home, movement on the opposite sidewalk caught my eye, something flashing in the edge of the glare from my headlights.

I squinted, looking closer, and a small form came into focus.  She had long white curls and wore a pair of fuzzy pink pants with lace around the hem.
 
Luci
. Thank goodness. The flash was from the silver bangle our father had given her the month before he’d left, as if he were already planning to disappear. I hadn’t seen her slip that on last night, but that was no surprise. She wasn’t allowed to wear it to school because Mom was afraid

she’d lose it, but Luci had snuck it into her backpack more than

once.

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And I’d never been more thankful for her willingness to

break the rules.

I rolled down the driver’s side window  and stuck my face into the shocking cold. My mouth was open to shout her name when another car turned the corner from the opposite side of the street. It drove between us, and I waited for it to pass.

But it didn’t pass.

The car slowed, and finally stopped in front of Luci. I could barely see her pigtails through the other car’s windshield. The man behind the wheel leaned across the seat and said something to my sister that I couldn’t hear. A second later, her head bobbed. The man shifted into park, slid  across the seat and leaned back to open the rear door.

To my absolute horror, Luci climbed inside. And that’s when I noticed the colour of the car. It was a light-blue, four door sedan.

“No!” I shouted through  my open window, and the man  looked up. For  a moment, his eyes met mine from 100 feet  away. Then he slid back across the seat and shoved the car into  drive. He hit the gas, and the car rolled forwards.

It happened too fast. I couldn’t think. But I saw Luci very clearly. She waved to me from the back seat, her smile wide, tiny white fangs glinting in my high beams.

No!
 
I stomped on the accelerator and twisted the steering wheel to the left as hard as I could. My car lurched across the street, perpendicular to the road, and hit a light pole. My skullbounced off the headrest and my forehead smacked the wheel.  An instant later, the other car smashed into my passenger side, and this time the side of my skull hit the window.

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I’d been T-boned in the middle of the street by what could only be the Midday Mangler, a block and a half from home.  Where, I realized hazily, Titus’ car sat in the driveway.

Trying to clear my vision, I shook my head and fumbled with the handle until the car door swung open. I was up in a flash wobbling as I ran around the rear of  my car to where my passenger side was now bent around the other car’s much stronger grill.

Screams split the air behind me, and seemed to cleave my throbbing head in half. The kids playing flashlight tag. Their footsteps pounded on the concrete and a door  slammed shut.  Distantly, I heard them yelling for their mother.

“Let her go!” I shouted at the driver, but my voice sounded  weak and frail. I’d hit my head hard  –  twice  –  and my vision  was blurry. There were two Luci’s staring at me now, their  identical  mouths open in surprise and fear, and two kidnappers,  both of whom were shoving open a double set of driver’s side  doors.

My vision finally merged, and the Midday Mangler stood in front of me, tall enough that I had to crane my neck to see him.  He flashed  yellowish teeth and a stained set of fangs in the instant before his fist flew. I barely had time to register the motion before it met my head.

Then everything went blissfully, frightfully dark. And quiet.

I woke up with Luci. That was the upside. The
 
only
 
upside, in fact. Luci was crying and shaking me and my cheek was wet with her tears.

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“Kez, wake up!” she sobbed, and I opened my eyes to see  her face hovering over mine. For a moment, I couldn’t  remember where we were, or how we’d got there. But then the  throbbing in my head slammed into agonizing focus and I  remembered the driver of the other car, who’d apparently  knocked me out.

“Calm down Luce.” I pushed myself into a sitting position  and let my head rest against the cold wall at my back. “What  happened? Where are we?”

“I don’t knoooowww!” she howled, shoving damp white  curls back from her face. “Nobody got me after school so I  walked home and a man said Daddy told him to pick me up and  bring me to him, so I got in the car ‘cause I miss Daddy.”

The Mangler had certainly gotten lucky with
 
that
 
line.

“Then I saw you, and the man’s car hit your car, and you  got out and you were walking funny, and the man
 
hit
 
you!  And  you fell dooowwwwnnn!” Her terrified summary dissolved into  even more terrified tears, and I pulled her close, taking in our  surroundings for the first time.

We sat on a thin, rough carpet in a small, empty room with solid white walls. The only window was covered in what looked like steel shutters, padlocked shut. No beam of light split them.  It was still dark.

I reached into my pocket for my phone. I was irate  –  though not really surprised  –  to find it gone. “Where did the man go?” I asked, eyeing the door.