Vampire (11 page)

Liz flew at him so fast that Darcy didn't see her coming. It was all Kyle could manage to keep the motorcycle upright.

“Cut it out, Liz, you're going to hurt someone!” Kyle yelled at her. “I ought to leave you here!”

“I
want
you to!” Liz yelled back at him. “I want you to leave me here so you'll feel guilty about it all
night!
”

Kyle glanced back at Darcy, shaking his head with a tolerant smile. “Okay, Liz, I'm going—”

“Fine! Just go!”

To Darcy's concern, Kyle sped off. For several more blocks they didn't speak, but as he turned onto a side street, she recognized the Farmer's Market. It didn't take long to find Brandon. As Kyle and Darcy approached a row of deserted stands, they saw him lying back on one of the wooden tables.

“Who won?” Kyle asked, deadpan, and Brandon looked up, raising a bottle in greeting.

Kyle squinted and laughed. “Are you drinking?”

“Just this awful grape stuff.” Brandon sighed. “I couldn't handle anything stronger right now—not with this lump on my head.”

Kyle stepped closer and whistled. “Wow—that's a beauty.”

“I ended up clear in the backseat,” Brandon said, almost admiringly. “Where'd she learn to punch like that?”

Kyle shrugged and sat beside him. “She's pretty mad.”

“No kidding.
I'm
probably deformed.”

“You'll live.” Kyle took the bottle and helped himself to a sip. “Here's to women … and their charms.”

“Well, hi, Darcy.” Brandon noticed her at last. “So glad you could join us.”

“Someone's stopping,” Darcy said nervously, watching the street.

To her surprise, Jake and Elliott pulled up in a car and got out. While Elliott hung back, Jake towered over Brandon and gave him a hard appraisal.

“Why the hell did you call me?”

“'Cause I was too dizzy to drive. And anyway, you're the only one I could get a hold of. God, Jake, I thought you'd be a lot more sympathetic than this.”

Jake took Brandon's collar and hoisted him to his feet. “Come on—Elliott, you drive Brandon's car. Brandon, this is the last time, understand? I don't have time to referee all your and Liz's fights. Where is she?”

“I don't know. Walking somewhere—”

“Walking! With some maniac running loose? Elliott, go find her—”

“I know where she is,” Kyle said. “You take Darcy home.”

“And what are
you
going to do?”

Kyle shrugged. “Well, I know Liz won't let me give her a ride, so I guess I'll just follow her.”

Brandon grinned. “Spoken like a true gentleman.”

“Get in the car.” Jake shoved him.

“Hey, I'm injured here—”

“He does have a pretty bad bump,” Darcy spoke up, but Jake only looked more irritated.

“Get in the car, Darcy. You shouldn't be out here, either.”

“What do you mean, she shouldn't be out here, either?” Brandon gave a chuckle. “She's with us, isn't she? You act like something's going to happen to her or something.”

“What I'm saying is, anything could happen to anybody,” Jake said shortly. “Especially after what's been happening these past few days.”

Kyle glanced around at the empty stalls, the foggy walkways, the distorted shadows. “He's right, Brandon. I'm going to go catch Liz.”

Brandon hesitated, then gave an exaggerated stage whisper. “Do you think the Vampire's back there somewhere? Hiding? Licking his lips? Sharpening his fangs? Watching? Picking out his next … terrified … victim—”

“Go on, Brandon,” Jake gave him a shove. “Move!”

Back at the apartment once more Darcy checked and rechecked the locks, unable to shake a nagging feeling of dread. Jake had returned to the Club, and she hated the idea of being alone all night, especially when her brain kept going over and over all the troubling events of the day—
the fire escape … the basement window … but I know someone was there, coming after me, wanting to hurt me, and how long was I standing there calling for help? It seemed like forever.… How long until the intruder left and Brandon opened the door
…

She knew Brandon hadn't believed her. And now she began to suspect that the flowers hadn't meant anything at all, that maybe he'd only been patronizing her.…
Brandon is obviously a huge flirt, and Liz is obviously very used to having her own way, and you are so stupid for presuming anything or even wishing for it
.

She couldn't sleep. She tossed restlessly in the sticky heat and kept looking at her watch, wondering when Jake would be home. She couldn't stop thinking about all the things Brandon had said back there at the Farmer's Market.

“Do you think the Vampire's back there somewhere?” he had joked, thinking it so clever and oh-so-funny.…

“
Picking out his next terrified victim?
”

And how horrible
, Darcy thought, pressing her face tight into her pillow, trying to choke back the awful fear—
how horrible to be the next victim
…

And never know your life was running out so fast
.…

13

W
hen Darcy heard the whispers, she thought at first she was dreaming … voices low and urgent … bodies moving quickly … quietly through the dark.

She sat up, heart racing. She listened hard through the blackness and thought a door closed somewhere downstairs. Peeking out her room and down the stairwell she saw the lamp she'd left burning below … and once again she thought she heard muffled voices. She slipped noiselessly down to the living room and saw a sliver of light beneath Jake's door.

Standing there, Darcy tried to decide if she should investigate, then froze as the door slid open a crack, letting out soft voices from within.

“I almost got it this time—this was the worst—”

“Ssh … you'll wake Darcy.…”

Still whispering, the voices were unrecognizable to her, but then the first one came again, bordering on panic.

“I didn't expect it—the struggle—oh, God—”

Holding her breath, Darcy saw Jake move into her line of vision, saw him holding something … saw him throw it into his closet. His clothes were torn and bloody, and there was more blood streaming down from his hand. He was talking to someone that Darcy couldn't see, and as the closet door groaned shut, he moved out of sight again.

She heard someone speaking—
Who? Jake? Who else is in there?
—but only caught the end of what was being said.

“—have to take care of her.”

Darcy felt a stab of terror. There was a loud thud as if someone had collapsed against a wall, and then another muffled cry, broken and anguished.

“I can't stand this anymore! Oh, God, what am I going to do!”

Darcy didn't wait to hear anything else; she fled upstairs and locked herself in.

The night crawled on and on, and she lay awake, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
My God, Jake, what's going on?
For a long time there wasn't another sound from downstairs, then finally a door opened and closed as an invisible someone left the apartment. She thought she might have drifted off to sleep at last when suddenly the phone rang, jarring her awake, and Jake's voice drifted up, strangely calm.

“Darcy, it's for you.”

“Me?” She swung out of bed, put her ear timidly to the door. “For me?”

But he didn't answer, and she heard the sound of his bedroom door. For the second time that night she peeked cautiously down the stairwell, then hurried to the living room where the receiver lay upon a table beside the couch.

“Hello?” she whispered.

“Darcy? I can hardly hear you.”

She recognized the voice and sank into the cushions. “Oh, Brandon,” she said gratefully.

“What's the matter? You acted like this was going to be obscene or something.” His voice smiled. “Hey … I really wanted to get back tonight to see you. It … just didn't work out.”

So you and Liz fixed things. Good for you, bad for me
. “Well, I hope everything's okay now.”

“That depends on your point of view, I guess,” he said vaguely. “I had fun on our walk this evening. Yours and mine, I mean.”

“Me, too.”
Well, I might as well be honest, it'll probably be the last walk we ever take
.

“I'll try and make it to the concert tomorrow night—it just depends on rehearsals. Maybe I'll see you.”

“Maybe.”

“I sure hope so.”

Please don't say things you don't mean. And you still owe Liz some flowers
.… “Well … good night.”

She hung up, feeling lost and unhappy and furious with herself. Pausing a moment, she listened, but no sound came from Jake's room. She turned off the lights and went up to bed.

She still couldn't sleep. In a frenzy of thoughts she dozed off and on again, tossing restlessly, kicking off the covers. Strange half-dreams flitted through her mind—black figures wrapped in mysterious capes, trailing blood behind them. A claw groped out for her neck. She shouted and woke herself up.

Groggily Darcy wondered where the sun had gone, then realized it was still night. Her gown was damp with sweat, and as she lay there, a slow chill crawled over her. She turned on her side and heard a soft squeaking sound.

Darcy's eyes went wide, her body tensing in surprise. She couldn't remember the bed squeaking before now, and this strange sound hadn't seemed to come from beneath her.…

Oh, God, it's another rat
.…

Bolting upright, her eyes probed the darkness, her ears straining for the scurry of feet across the floor.

Silence.

Darcy pulled the sheets to her chin, afraid to move, afraid to stay where she was.
What if it's crawling up the wall … What if it's hiding under the bed—

What if it's
in
my bed—

Choking back a scream, she kicked her legs under the covers, then flapped the sheets around her.

The squeak came again, just above her.

And with it, the soft whirring of wings.

Stunned, Darcy sat there listening, then slowly looked up toward the ceiling.

Something small and black swept quickly out of sight. If she hadn't heard the squeak again, she would have sworn she imagined it.

Holding her breath, Darcy pushed back the covers and got to her knees, her eyes moving slowly over the shadow-speckled ceiling. It reminded her of a spiderweb, all those blurry tendrils of darkness spreading out, oozing into corners she couldn't quite see, so black … so still …

And then she heard it again.

The soft, soft patter … fragile wings flapping … beating at the darkness.…

The black thing flew straight at her, and as she dived into her pillow, she heard it coming back again, above her bed, its shrill little cry,
Trapped, trapped just like me—

She grabbed at the lamp, and there were more squeaks—
more wings
—and the hot, still air churning above her head, frantic shadows darting and swooping, trying to find a way out—As her fingers found the light at last, she stared at the ceiling in disbelief.

Bats
.

Fluttering, falling, fighting for dark places, furry heads and piggy eyes, webbed wings, and
Bats! My God there must be a dozen of them—

Darcy jumped out of bed and raced downstairs, expecting at any second that the hideous creatures would swoop after her and fill the room like a black cloud.

“Jake!' she shrieked. “Jake—please hurry!”

And as she burst into his room and stared down at his empty bed, she saw that it hadn't even been slept in.

14

B
ats?” Brandon sounded strange and only half coherent, and for one awful second Darcy was afraid he'd hang up.

“In my room—all
over
my room. Jake's not even here, I don't know where he is—” Her voice broke and struggled for composure. “I was afraid maybe you weren't home.”

“I … was asleep,” he said quietly. “Where do you think I'd be at this hour? Stay downstairs. I'll be right over.”

Darcy nodded at the receiver and sat a moment just holding it, as if somehow Brandon's strong voice was still there on the line. She'd closed the door leading up to the attic, but now her eyes fastened on it again, waiting for the soft thud of little bodies on the other side. When nothing happened, she hung up the phone and covered her face with her hands. Where was Jake? A vision of his bloody clothes … his bloody hand … floated into her mind, and she forced it away.
Oh, Brandon, please hurry
.… When she looked up to see him standing in the doorway, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“God, you scared me to death! How did you get in?”

“I know where Jake hides an extra key.” He looked surprised at her outburst. “I thought I'd save you the trouble.”

He still looked sleepy, his dark eyes hazy, his hair soft and tousled around his shoulders. He'd thrown on some clothes in a hurry, and his shirt hung unevenly where he'd buttoned it wrong. In spite of everything, Darcy started to smile.

“You look ridiculous,” she said.

“Not you,” Brandon returned, staring at her. “You look great.”

“You
are
still asleep,” Darcy scolded, hugging an old bathrobe around her that she'd grabbed from a chair in Jake's room. As Brandon's eyes traveled appreciatively over her body, she flushed and sat down on the couch.

“Please don't look at me,” she said.

“Why not?” Brandon grinned. “You're the nicest thing I've seen all day.”

Remembering his earlier confrontation with Liz, Darcy firmly changed the subject. “The bats, Brandon. How did they get in? How are we going to get rid of them?”