I honestly have no idea what’s going to happen next or what I’m supposed to do with either Collin or Rafa. But it’s good to not feel totally alone, and I’ll gladly take this tiny bubble of peace for the last few minutes we have left until we get to Hunter’s Point.
Because God knows, what comes next won’t be easy.
Stryker’s place on Newcomb Avenue is a fully detached, single-family home with pink shingles. There are empty lots on either side, each behind tall wire fences plastered with hardy green fabric. A garage on the ground floor squats a dozen feet behind a tarnished security gate. All the windows have decorative iron bars over them. Several speckled pink stone steps lead up to a tiny porch, which is also guarded, top to bottom, by curlicue iron.
I’m not surprised by all the extra security—Hunter’s Point can be sketchy, and Ms. Stryker takes that stuff seriously. But I wouldn’t have expected the pink. I guess there’s still a lot for me to learn about my boss.
Not that she’s going to want to see me after this.
Once we’re out of the car and Rafa gets the shotgun wrapped in his Kevlar duster from the trunk, the driver takes off in a noticeable hurry. (Hopefully it’s because of the neighborhood and not because he caught sight of the weapon!) It’s almost 6:30 p.m. in November and there aren’t a lot of working streetlamps on this block, so the loss of his headlights leaves us in near darkness. But there is a faint glow coming from behind the curtains of the weathered bay windows at the front of the house.
Rafa tucks the coat and long gun under one arm, places his free hand on my shoulder, gives me a friendly squeeze—and keeps his palm there.
“So I don’t trip,” he says, with a mischievous twinkle. “It’s pretty dark, after all. Lead the way.”
He’s letting me know again that he’s cool with what I am. (Night vision, FTW.)Andthat we’ve got non-emergency touching privileges now, I guess. Yeah, I’ve definitely made things more complicated, and I don’t know how I feel about it. But that’s something for future-Alvin to worry about.
I lead us over the sidewalk and up the short flight of steps to the weathered porch. Before I even reach the gate, Ms. Stryker opens the front door.
She looks just like she did before she stepped into the portal yesterday, still armored up in her black leather. But now she appears fully rested. If anything, her dark brown skin glows. No go-bag, though.
Her brilliant white teeth shine in a grin. “Alvin! Good.” Her eyes flick over to Rafa, and the smile falters. “And you brought a friend.”
Crap. I didn’t give her any heads-up about Rafa. And she did say not to talk to anyone. I really need to not screw this up any more than I have.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Stryker. This is Rafa. He’s a Monster Hunter, and he knows as much about the vampires as I do. More, actually. He’s, uh, been helping me with this from the start.”
Her eyes narrow, but her nod is indulgent. “Then I suppose you should both come in.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Rafa says, head bowed slightly,sounding like the most polite guy on Earth.
Smart move.
She unlatches the security gate and waves us inside. As I pass the threshold, I expect the sour apple of protective wards, but there’s nothing. A hint of acid in the air, but at best, it’s just residue. Maybe she needed to take down the protections because of the “help” she said was on the way. Or maybe she’s just so badass, she doesn’t need wards when she’s home.
A burgundy three-seater couch upholstered in plush velvet takes up most of the far wall of the small living room. A long coffee table made from a single slab of oak rests in front, adorned with a small scorch mark in one corner next to two partially filled ceramic mugs of straight black coffee. Under the bay window, a simple round cherrywood pedestal supports a lamp with a cream linen shade. It casts a warm glow that doesn’t quite reach the corners of the room. There’s a high-backed recliner, also in burgundy velvet with wooden armrests, next to a wall-mounted gas heater, and a chest-height bookshelf lined with pristine leather-bound hardcovers. Off to the left, away from the window, a simple arch leads into an uncluttered white laminate kitchen. There is no TV. The style is spartan, the furniture is from the 1980s, but somehow it still comes off classy.
Ms. Stryker directs us to sit on the couch. She takes the armchair, dragging it around so she can face us. I put the first aid kit on the heavy wooden table now between us, sliding the box toward Rafa. He ignores it, keeping his eyes on my boss.
“So,” she says, leaning toward me. “Tell me everything.”
Her intense, piercing eyes fix me in place, and I swallow hard.
“Well, first, you should know a bunch of kids are in big trouble right now.” I sneak a guilty peek at the Hunter. “Rafa and I just riled up a whole nest of vampires, who are probably totally bloodlusted. More than a dozen young teens are in cages, they’ve already been fed on, and before we do anything else, we need to get back there?—”
“Whoa!” She throws up her palm between us, stopping me. Her voice is stern, even a little impatient. “We’re not going anywhere. I can tell you’re upset, but if I’m going to help you, I need you to slow down and start from the beginning.”
“But the kids?—!”
“—Will befine,” she finishes. “Trust me. This is connected to the case I’m already working, and I have information you don’t.” Her eyes narrow, her tone turning even more grave. “The most important thing you can do for those children is to get me fully up to speed. Don’t leave out a single detail. It literally could mean life or death.”
Uff. I suppose it was unrealistic to expect her to spring into action on my say-so. She barely trusts me to get her morning brew, and I actually failed at the last attempt. Fine—I’ll just need to get through this as fast as possible, so we can get to the part where she saves the day.
There’s no point in bringing up the elf blackmailing me, so I decide to start with Nicole coming into the office and asking for help. I stick to the facts and keep my storyall about rescuing Emma, which is a great plan—until I get to the mansion where I met Rafa and first encountered the vampires.
“Hold on.” Ms. Stryker raises a finger and scrunches her brow. “How did you even know to go to that house?”
Crap!I should have expected that question. It will definitely lead to other questions I don’t want to answer and don’t have time to answer. Ideally, I would have rehearsed what I was going to say on the way, but I was much too busy getting caught up in my own personal drama. Typical. Now even Rafa’s looking at me with curiosity.
