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Chapter 37
Early-morning light lay heavy and golden on the street outside. The air was cool and misty. You couldn't see the river from here, but you could feel it; that sense of water on the air that made every breath fresher, cleaner.
Larry got out his car keys.
"You okay to drive?" I asked.
He nodded. The tears had dried in thin tracks down his face. He hadn't bothered to wipe them away. He wasn't crying anymore. He was as grim-faced as you could be and still look like an overgrown Howdy Doody. He opened his door and got in, sliding across to unlock the passenger side.
Richard stood there. The cool wind blew his hair across his face. He ran fingers through it to keep it from his face. The gesture was achingly familiar. Phillip had always been doing that. Richard smiled at me, and it wasn't Phillip's smile. It was bright and open, and there was nothing hidden in his brown eyes.
Blood had started to dry at the corner of his mouth, and on his cheek.
"Get out while you still can, Richard."
"Out from what?"
"There's going to be an undead war. You don't want to be caught in the middle."
"I don't think Jean-Claude would let me walk away," he said. He wasn't smiling when he said it. I couldn't decide whether he was handsomer smiling or solemn.
"Humans don't do too well in the middle of the monsters, Richard. Get out if you can."
"You're human."
I shrugged. "Some people would argue that."
"Not me." He reached out to touch me. I stood my ground and didn't move away. His fingertips brushed the side of my face, warm and very alive.
"See you at three o'clock this afternoon, unless you're going to be too tired."
I shook my head, and his hand dropped away from my face. "Wouldn't miss it," I said.
He smiled again. His hair blew in a tangle across his face. I kept the front of my own hair cut short enough so that it stayed out of my eyes, most of the time. Layering was a wonderful thing.
I opened the passenger side door. "I'll see you this afternoon."
"I'll bring your costume with me."
"What am I going to be dressed as?"
"A Civil War bride," he said.
"Does that mean a hoop skirt?"
"Probably."
I frowned. "And what are you going to be?"
"A Confederate officer."
"You get to wear pants," I said.
"I don't think the dress would fit me."
I sighed. "It's not that I'm not grateful, Richard, but..."
"Hoop skirts aren't your style?"
"Not hardly."
"My offer was grubbies and all the mud we could crawl in. The party was your idea."
"I'd get out of it if I could."
"It might be worth all the trouble just to see you dressed up. I get the feeling it's a rarity."
Larry leaned across the seat, and said, "Can we get a move on? I need a cigarette and some sleep."
"I'll be right there." I turned back to Richard but suddenly didn't know what to say. "See you later."
He nodded. "Later."
I got in the car, and Larry pulled away before I got my seat belt fastened. "What's the rush?"
"I want to get as far away from this place as I can."
I looked at him. He still looked pale.
"You all right?"
"No, I'm not all right." He looked at me, blue eyes bright with anger. "How can you be so casual after what just happened?"
"You were calm after last night. You got bitten last night."
"But that was different," he said. "That woman sucked on the bite. She..." His hands clenched the steering wheel so tightly his hands shook.
"You were hurt worse last night; what makes this tougher?"
"Last night was violent, but it wasn't... perverted. The vampires last night wanted something. The name of the Master. The ones tonight didn't want anything, they were just being..."
"Cruel," I offered.
"Yes, cruel."
"They're vampires, Larry. They aren't human. They don't have the same rules."
"She would have killed me tonight on a whim."
"Yes, she would have," I said.
"How can you bear to be around them?"
I shrugged. "It's my job."
"And my job, too."
"It doesn't have to be, Larry. Just refuse to work on vampire cases. Most of the rest of the animators do."
He shook his head. "No, I won't give up."
"Why not?" I asked.
He didn't say anything for a minute. He pulled onto 270 headed south. "How could you talk about a date this afternoon after what just happened?"
"You have to have a life, Larry. If you let this business eat you alive, you'll never make it." I studied his face. "And you never answered my question."
"What question?"
"Why won't you give up the idea of being a vampire executioner?"
Larry hesitated, concentrating on driving. He suddenly seemed very interested in passing cars. We drove under a railroad bridge, warehouses on either side. Many of the windows were broken or missing. Rust dripped down the bridge overpass.
"Nice section of town," he said.
"You're avoiding the question. Why?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"I asked about your family; you said they were all alive. What about friends? You lose a friend to the vamps?"
He glanced at me. "Why ask that?"
"I know the signs, Larry. You're determined to kill the monsters because you've got a grudge, don't you?"
He hunched his shoulders and stared straight ahead. The muscles in his jaws clenched and unclenched.
"Talk to me, Larry," I said.
"The town I come from is small, fifteen hundred people. While I was away at college my freshman year, twelve people were murdered by a pack of vampires. I didn't know them, any of them, really. I knew them to say hi to, but that was it."
"Go on."
He glanced at me. "I went to the funerals over Christmas break. All those coffins, all those families. My dad was a doctor, but he couldn't help them. Nobody could help them."
"I remember the case," I said. "Elbert, Wisconsin, three years ago, right?"
"Yes, how did you know?"
"Twelve people is a lot for a single vampire kill. It made the papers. Brett Colby was the vampire hunter they got for the job."
"I never met him, but my parents told me about him. They made him sound like a cowboy riding into town to take down the bad guys. He found and killed five vampires. He helped the town when nobody else could."
"If you just want to help people, Larry, be a social worker, or a doctor."
"I'm an animator; I've got a built-in resistance to vampires. I think God meant for me to hunt them."
"Geez Louise, Larry, don't go on a holy crusade, you'll end up dead."
"You can teach me."
I shook my head. "Larry, this isn't personal. It can't be personal. If you let your emotions get in the way, you'll either get killed or go stark raving mad."
"I'll learn, Anita."
I stared at his profile. He looked so stubborn. "Larry..." I stopped. What could I say? What brought any of us into this business? Maybe his reasons were as good as my own, maybe better. It wasn't just love of killing, like with Edward. And heaven knew I needed help. There were getting to be too many vampires for just little ol' me.
"All right, I'll teach you, but you do what I say, when I say it. No arguments."
"Anything you say, boss." He grinned at me briefly, then turned back to the road. He looked determined and relieved, and young.
But we were all young once. It passes, like innocence and a sense of fair play. The only thing left in the end is a good instinct for survival. Could I teach Larry that? Could I teach him how to survive? Please, God, let me teach him, and don't let him die on me.
