Page 11 of John’s Yearning

“She’s no saint either. But then who am I telling that? You know her. She’ll do anything to make a buck. Even look after children.”

John chuckled. “That’s Elysa! She told you about what happened, right? With the girl she was babysitting?”

“Oh, yeah, what a shocker.”

“Must be tough on Elysa.”

“Yeah, and the rent is due in a couple of weeks.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, you know, now that the little vampire slayer is missing, she’s out of a job. Don’t think she’s got much saved up.”

“Little vampire slayer?”

Nikki giggled. “Yeah, you know. Her name’s Buffy. I mean, who names their kid Buffy? So whenever we talk about her, we call her vampire slayer.”

“Oh, funny.” Not.

“Yeah, right?” Then she shrugged. “But anyway, with the girl gone, Elysa is scrambling to find a job to tide her over. You know, until they find the girl.”

While this didn’t exactly reflect well on Elysa, it also suggested that the babysitter wasn’t involved in the kidnapping. If she had indeed helped somebody abduct the child, she would most likely have gotten paid for it, and not be struggling to make ends meet.

“Though, between you and me”—Nikki leaned closer—“once a kid’s been missing for a few days and there’s no ransom note, chances are the child’s dead already. I mean, I watch Forensic Files, I know what’s going on.”

“So there was no ransom note?” John knew that already, but he wondered how Nikki knew.

“No, not according to Elysa. She said that’s why Buffy’s mother is so devastated. She’s loaded, you know. Elysa said she would gladly pay anything to have her daughter back. So if there’d been a ransom note, she would have paid it already.”

“I see.”

“But hey, let’s not talk about sad stuff. We’re partying tonight.”

“Yeah, Tracy’s birthday. I should congratulate her. Where is she?”

“In the living room, dancing. I’ll come with you.”

But he blocked her quickly and said, “Hey, could I ask you for a favor?”

“What’s that?”

“Would you be a darling and get me a drink and then meet me in the living room?” He motioned to the kitchen, where one counter was littered with bottles, some full, some empty. “And then we can party, how about it?” He looked deep into her eyes, giving her the impression her charms were working on him. They weren’t.

“Sure,” she purred. “See you in a sec.”

Very unlikely.

John turned and walked down the hallway, dodging tipsy guests, and made his way to the living area. He let his eyes roam and sniffed the air. Apart from the aroma of pot and alcohol, various perfumes and body odors, all he could smell was human blood. Nobody in the room exhibited the tell-tale aura of a supernatural being. And all his senses indicated that there was no vampire, apart from himself, among the partygoers. At least that meant that Elysa and her roommates didn’t have any vampires among their acquaintances. Or they would surely have been invited tonight. And would have attended with certainty. After all, a party was like a smorgasbord for a vampire. So many different types of tasty blood. And by the end of the night, everybody would be drunk, and a vampire would barely have to use any mind control to bite a human without being detected.

For a moment he was tempted to stay. But his sense of duty was stronger than his desire to suck on the vein of a living human. He had leads to follow. And by the looks of it, Elysa Flannigan was a dead end. For now. He would run a background check on her later when he was back in his office.

John left the party before Nikki could find him and stepped out into the cool night air. He crossed the street, just as his cell phone chimed. He pulled it from his pocket and looked at it. A reminder flashed.

Shit! He’d almost forgotten about that. Maybe because he didn’t want to go to the appointment his cell phone was reminding him of. Unfortunately, being a maker came with responsibilities.

6

The psychiatrist’s office was in the basement of an old Edwardian home in the Nob Hill area of San Francisco, a fancy neighborhood nestled on a hill. Up there, peekaboo views revealed themselves, showcasing the beauty of the city, particularly at night. Corridors of light became visible whenever John turned a corner and glanced down the streets leading into the shopping district, the financial district, or the neighborhoods leading to the Bay.