The Vampire Stalker (12 page)

At lunch I headed to the library. Ms. P. jumped off her stool when she saw me.

“Are you all right?” she cried. “Alexander told me what happened Saturday night.”

“I’m fine.” I followed her into the inner office, where we could talk privately.

“He told me that the police had their guns drawn and you got in the way.” Her voice was stern. “What were you thinking?”

“I had no choice — they were going to shoot him.”

“I know how fond you are of Alexander. But you could have been killed.”

“I didn’t think the police would shoot me.” The truth was, I
hadn’t
thought. I had acted on instinct.

“Events are unfolding as they’re meant to, Amy. You shouldn’t have interfered.”

I stared at her. “Do you think Alexander is meant to die?”

A troubled look came over her face, and she put a hand on my shoulder. “We have no way of knowing how this will end. If Alexander has to give his life to kill Vigo, it might be for the greater good.” Behind her glasses, I saw tears come to her eyes. “I would hate to see anything happen to Alexander, but he’s chosen this life for himself. And sometimes … sometimes those we love best end up dying.”

I shook my head. I could not accept what Ms. P. was saying. Alexander was
not
meant to die, and I was
not
going to regret saving him. “The story isn’t going to end that way. I know it, Ms. P.”

“The truth is, Alexander doesn’t belong in our world. You know that, don’t you?”

“No. I don’t know it.” I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. The sadness was locked inside me.

“I’m sorry I’ve upset you, dear. I only want you to be safe.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You always say that, even when you’re not fine,” she said gently, and I knew that some part of that was true. “Vigo has seen you now, so you must be extra careful.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t be going out after dark.”

“Good. Keeping yourself safe has to be your number one concern.”

“I know. Trust me, Ms. P. I don’t have a death wish.”

That night, as I was getting into bed, Alexander phoned. It was the first I’d heard from him since our kiss, and my heartbeat sped up.

“Elizabeth Howard just called me in hysterics,” he said.

I gasped. “Is she okay? Is she hurt?”

“She is traumatized, but not injured. Vigo came to her door this evening with a huge arrangement of flowers. He asked her son if he could come in. But when Elizabeth saw him, she recognized who it was immediately.”

“Oh, God.” I pressed a hand to my forehead, feeling dizzy. Poor Elizabeth.

“She addressed Vigo by name, then he bared his fangs and lunged at her. But he was unable to enter her home because he hadn’t been invited. He fled.”

I could only imagine the terror of it. No wonder Elizabeth Howard had been hysterical.

“What did you say to her?”

“I told her that she and her children were safe in the house. Her husband is away in California on business. I promised that I would visit her tomorrow, and that we would find a way to keep
them safe. She lives in Kenilworth, just an hour from here. At any rate, I will call Ms. P. when we hang up. I am sure she will want to come with me tomorrow. She can probably leave right after the school day ends.”

“Me, too. I’m coming, too.”

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

 

“T
HAT
’
S IT
, seventy-one Oak Drive,” Ms. P. said the next afternoon, pointing to a white house at the end of a cul-de-sac. It looked like all the other houses on the block, except its lawn was shaded by an unusual amount of shrubbery and trees. I wondered if it was the result of rabid Otherworld fans trying to peek in Elizabeth Howard’s windows.

The neighborhood surprised me. It was affluent, with large new-looking houses, but it wasn’t ultra-posh. With her millions, I’d have pictured her living in a hilltop mansion.

We got out of the car and walked up to the house. Alexander pressed the doorbell. After a few moments a voice came through the intercom. “Yes, who is it?”

“Alexander Banks and my friends Amy Hawthorne and Ms. Parker.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Seconds later the door opened, and Elizabeth Howard greeted us with a fragile smile, ushering us in. In jeans, a mint wool sweater, and not a speck of makeup, she looked different from the
glamorous author she’d been at the book signing. But she still gave off an air of elegance and intelligence. She showed us to the living room. “Please, come in.”

A girl with brown pigtails ran up and skidded to a halt in front of us. “Hi!”

We said hi back. The girl giggled and ran away as quickly as she’d come. I could hear the beeps and explosions of a video game coming from another room.

“I kept them home today,” Elizabeth said. “I know it’s daylight but … I just couldn’t.”

Her living room had taupe walls and cream couches, stylish but homey. The mantel was filled with pictures of her children and some older people, probably her parents or in-laws.

Although the room had huge bay windows, the shrubs blocked out a lot of light, making the atmosphere somber, even though it was a sunny day. We sat on the couch and she sat on a loveseat across from us.

“Thank you for coming.” Elizabeth’s hands were tightly pursed in her lap, maybe to stop them from trembling. I could see the smudges of fatigue under her eyes.

In many ways, I felt like I already knew Elizabeth Howard. But she didn’t know me. Judging from the way she was looking at Alexander, though, she felt a familiarity with him. He was one of her characters, after all.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, Alexander,” she went on. “On some level I think I did, but it was too hard to grasp.”

“You shouldn’t apologize,” he said gently. “I would like to apologize for being so forceful.”

She managed a smile. “I wouldn’t have expected anything else.” She looked from Alexander to me, then to Ms. P. “How did this happen?”

Ms. P. took over, diving into an explanation of literary physics. Watching Elizabeth’s shocked face, I worried that the information was too much for her to take in at once. She listened, spellbound, as Ms. P. completed her explanation.

“So … you’re saying that I didn’t make up Otherworld at all,” Elizabeth Howard said slowly. “That I somehow tapped into another dimension?”

We all nodded.

Her eyes clouded, as if she was remembering. “I knew that something special was happening. I’ve been writing since I was a child, but the writing process of the Otherworld books was like nothing I’d known. Normally I would spend hours dabbling with different scenarios, plots, characters. But when I got the idea for Otherworld, it took off immediately. It was like the story was already there, and I just had to write it down.” Her face paled. “This must mean … I’m a fraud. To think that I won the Los Angeles Times Book Award last year. If I’m not really creating Otherworld, maybe I should give it back.”

“You’re not a fraud,” I said firmly. “You wrote about the events of Otherworld perfectly.”

“Did
I?” She looked at Alexander.

He nodded. “You’ve done us justice, Elizabeth. But you are a little too psychic for your own good.” I knew it took a lot for him to say that, especially since he considered her books a complete invasion of privacy.

“Have you had psychic experiences before?” Ms. P. asked.

Elizabeth considered that. “I’ve always been intuitive, much to the annoyance of my husband. Take me to a party, and if there’s tension between two guests, I’ll know it, even if they’re across the room from each other. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve picked up on thoughts, feelings.”

“You’re an empath,” Alexander said. “It’s a well-known skill in my world, as you know. My aunt was the same way.”

“Helen,” Elizabeth said softly. “I was thinking of her the other day. You know, I always thought it was strange. I didn’t want her to die, but no matter how I tried to write it, her death was inevitable.”

I saw a muscle twitch in Alexander’s jaw. “She was a fine woman, my aunt.”

“She loved you so much, Alexander. She saw you as a son.”

He didn’t meet her eyes. He changed the topic. “I’m quite sure I’ve discovered the location of the portal. It is at the base of the Michigan Avenue Bridge. Our only problem now is Vigo.”

The mention of his name sent a tremor through Elizabeth. “You know what he and his coven have done to your city, Alexander. It’s just a matter of time before he does it to ours.”

“I have every intention of finding him and killing him, once and for all,” he said, a hard edge to his voice. “But in the meantime, you are not safe.”

“I know.” She had a pleading look in her eyes. “How do I keep my family safe?”

To my surprise, Alexander got up and walked over to sit beside her, taking her hand. “You’re going to get through this,” he assured her. “But you must leave town immediately.”

“My sister-in-law has a cottage on Lake Superior. Maybe we can go there.”

“That’s not good enough. You have to go somewhere where you have no connections, a place he can’t possibly anticipate. Your choice should be random, somewhere you’ve never been to before. And your husband will have to join you there. Or else he can be used as bait to reel you in. You know Vigo.”

“Far better than I want to.” The frightened look in her eyes said it all. “My husband will never believe what’s happening, though. I think I told you, he’s in L.A. on business. I called him in a panic last night, but he thinks I’m just having an anxiety attack over the third book. Whenever I try to start it, all I can see are James and Hannah searching the streets for some trace of you, Alexander.” She paused for a few seconds. “I’ve gotten threatening e-mails in the past. Maybe I’ll tell my husband that the threats have escalated and that the police suggested we leave town for a while.”

“Good,” Alexander said. “You should go overseas. It’s unlikely that Vigo will pursue you there. Here, you were easy targets, being so close to Chicago. But he’s enjoying terrorizing Chicago too much to leave now. You’re not worth that much to him.”

“I hope you’re right. I just don’t understand…. Why does Vigo want to kill me?”

“You have exposed his insecurities, not to mention the probabilities method he used to evade me. And there may be another reason. Killing you would create a media sensation and give him the notoriety he craves.”

“I — I see.” I saw her pretty features start to crack.

“We’ll take you and your children to the airport,” Alexander said. “Within a few hours, you’ll be safely out of the country. Now you’d better go pack.”

“Right.” As she was leaving the room, she turned and looked back. “Be careful, Alexander. You’re the one he really wants. Your death would be … the ultimate prize.”

“Yes, I know.” If he was afraid, his face gave nothing away. “He and I will be meeting soon.”

In the couple of days since our visit to Elizabeth Howard, no more murders were reported. But I felt little relief. I doubted that Vigo would go much longer without killing.

Stay inside after dark.
I had to remind myself of that when I was
going stir-crazy. It wasn’t that I didn’t often stay home on weeknights. It was the fact that I
had to
stay inside that made me feel caged. I found myself tempted to walk the one block to the deli, but then an image of Vigo would enter my mind, and the temptation vanished.

Vigo wasn’t just a villain in a story anymore. He was a menace who could be lurking around any corner — in a park, at a club, or on your doorstep … as Elizabeth Howard had discovered.

When I asked if Alexander could spare some time late Thursday afternoon, he agreed to pick me up at four. It would be our first time alone together since we kissed. I felt nervous but excited to be near him again.

As I climbed into the car, my heart leaped at the sight of him. His hair was damp, and his skin had the glow of someone who’d just showered. He looked strong, healthy. Like someone powerful enough to stake vampires.

I noticed a gym bag in the backseat. “Did you work out?” I asked.

“Yes. I slept this morning so that I could train this afternoon. What would you like to do?”

“We could go to the park.”

He agreed, and drove to the one we’d been to before. The autumn afternoon was cool, but clear and blue-skied. We found a bench near some swings.

“How do you train to hunt vampires?” I asked.

“For the most part, I practice fighting with the most skilled people I can find. Lately I have been training with a few fighters at a gym downtown. They call themselves mixed martial artists.”

“Oh, yeah? How did you talk your way into training with them?”

“I simply offered to show them my skills.”

I grinned. “Are you serious?” It occurred to me that Katie would love this. Maybe she was right about having AlexanderBanksMania on pay-per-view.

“Why wouldn’t I be serious? I must do whatever I can to find the best partners possible.”

“Did you kick their butts?”

He frowned. “The buttocks are among the least sensitive places to hit someone.”

I laughed. “It’s a figure of speech.”

“To kick butts. Interesting.” Alexander seemed to make a mental note of this. “What we do, mainly, is grapple,” he continued. “The idea is to get your opponent on the ground in the quickest time possible. Vampires are too strong to be bested by a human’s physical strength, you see. One needs speed, skill, and enough endurance to last thirty seconds.”

Wow. He really had this down to a science. “Why thirty seconds?”

“A fight with a vampire rarely lasts longer than that. Most last under fifteen. Ideally, I’ll have the vampire on the ground with a stake through his heart before he even knows what hit him. If it doesn’t happen that way, I must take control within thirty seconds. After thirty seconds of intense fighting, any human will start to tire. That’s when the vampire’s superior strength and endurance give him the advantage. Then you’d better run.”

“Has that ever happened to you? Have you fought longer than thirty seconds?”

“Yes, when I was younger. I insisted on starting to hunt before I was ready. No one could talk me out of it.” He rolled up his sleeve, revealing two pea-sized scars on his forearm.
Fang marks.
“This is the result. I was fighting a female vampire who had been terrorizing my neighborhood. Because she was small, I thought she’d be a straightforward kill. Of course I was wrong. The fight lasted much longer than thirty seconds, but I refused to give up and run. I thought that in just a few more seconds I could stake her. I was weakening, but I had so much adrenaline that I didn’t even realize it until her fangs had sunken into my arm.”

“How did you get away?”

“I didn’t. Another vampire hunter staked her in the back.”

“Good thing he was there.”

“Yes, well, the vampire hunters I had trained with knew that
I was in over my head. I was just thirteen. I cherish this scar, though. It reminds me not to be stupid.” He rolled his sleeve down again.

“That’s a good story. I’m surprised it’s not in the book.”

“I should have thanked Elizabeth Howard for that. Perhaps she was trying to protect my pride.”

“That, or the story about your tongue being slashed by a vampire’s blade was better.”

I was enjoying our banter, and I could see that he was, too.

His dark eyes fixated on the cement beneath our feet, and I could tell he was thinking about something else. “You’re enchanting, Amy,” he said after a moment. “I am privileged to have met you.”

I felt my face getting hot.
I
was enchanting? He had it backward. I glanced at him, suddenly wondering if he was thinking about the kiss.

He took a breath. “I don’t know how well you remember what happened on Sunday morning.”

I stared down at the bench, at the inches of space between us, my heart thumping in my ears. “I remember.”

“I tried to avoid it coming to that, but it was bound to happen.” I looked up, and his eyes flickered to mine, as if he was uncertain as to whether to keep going. “My attraction to you has tested my self-control and my concentration.”

My mouth felt desert-dry, but I nodded. Alexander Banks was attracted to
me.

“What are your thoughts?” he asked, looking at me intently.

My mind went blank. “I don’t have any.”

He gave a startled laugh, and it broke some of the tension. “I’m not sure that we should act on this, Amy. It is up to you. If you tell me to keep my distance, I will. But if you don’t, I warn you: I might kiss you again.”

“Might?” I was being bolder than I’d ever been. But if he was thinking of kissing me, then I wanted him to. Needed him to.

He swallowed. “It’s probable.”

“It’s … fine with me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Instantly, he leaned in to kiss me. Our teeth knocked together. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s okay.”

He smiled against my mouth. Then he proceeded to kiss me with such heart-stopping thoroughness that I felt like I’d been transported to heaven.

Eventually he pulled away. “Forgive me … I had thought to attempt a chaste kiss.” He searched my eyes. “I did not mean to put your reputation at risk.”

Still dazed from the kiss, it took me a few moments to understand what he meant. Kissing and courtship were taken a lot more seriously in his world. If you kissed a girl in public — or if you
were caught spending time with her in private, kissing or not — you’d better be ready to marry her.