Home > Undead in the City(15)

Undead in the City(15)
Author: Lynda Hilburn

“It was the least I could do.”

“You got that right,” she snarled. “You obviously went back to the church. Is that where we’re going now?”

“No. We have to improvise.Any port in a storm, as they say. I collected everything useable from the church. We can get more supplies tomorrow. It’s a good thing the nights are so long this time of year. I did make one stop for your benefit, though.”

He reached into the back seat again and pulled out a bag containing a couple of sweat pants, several sweatshirts, some socks, and a pair of running shoes.

She poked through the stash on her lap, recognizing the name of the discount store on the labels. “You shopped?”

“Let’s just say I procured. They’re probably not the perfect size for you, but at least they’ll keep you warm.”

“That’s great. Thanks. I don’t suppose you cruised any junk food places as well? My stomach is growling like a pissed-off lion.” She scrambled into her new clothes as she talked.

He turned toward her, frowning.“Food? Food! I have to admit I didn’t even give it a thought. It’s been so very long since I ate anything…solid. Let’s find a place now. There should be something open twenty-four hours, right?”

They drove in silence for a few minutes, until Tempest erupted into sound and motion as she pointed to a familiar drive-through burger place. “Yes! Pull in, pull in! Burgers from heaven, come to me!I could eat a frickin ’ vampire!”

Malveauxsmiled at her antics and jumped through the necessary hoops to collect the odoriferous food.

He’d forgotten how unpleasant human food smelled. He would’ve preferred to sink his fangs into the neck of the pimply boy hanging out of the delivery window.

Tempest ordered a lot of food, and she made fast work of ripping through the first paper to get to the prize. She wolfed down several big bites, moaning with pleasure, and then sat back, ecstatic. She’d just jammed a handful of French fries into her mouth when she gasped, expelled the fries, and groaned.“Stop!

Stop the car! I’mgonna hurl!”

“Hurl? What’s hurl?” But the gagging sounds provided a clear definition, and he pulled the car to the side of the road.

She opened her door, leaned out, and lost the contents of her stomach.

As she sat back in the seat, he could see sweat glistening on her face. Her heartpounded, her breathing shallow.

“Wow. What the f**k? I must’ve eaten too fast.”

“Have you ever done that before?” he asked.“Maybe after not eating for quite a while?”

“Nope.Never.I’ve got a cast-iron stomach. I’m sure I just tried to cram too much in too fast. I’ll take small bites and try again. You can pull back onto the road. I know you need to claw your way into the earth before the sun comes up. I’m fine.”

He frowned at her again and then turned his gaze to the windshield, easing the car onto the snow-covered road.

Eating too fast wasn’t the issue. He was sure of it. He’d seen this behavior too many times before to miss the significance. She sat still, her eyes closed, the burger forgotten in her lap. He tuned into her thoughts, picking up confusion and a hint of fear. The fear intrigued him, so he slipped into her mind, replaying the events that occurred during their separation. There it was.Quade had forced her to drink his blood.Malveaux had a strangle-hold on the steering wheel, his white fingers turning blue from his anger.

The cretin was going to pay for taking what belonged toMalveaux .

How did everything get so f**ked up? All he had to do was transform Tempest when he had the opportunity, and now -- even if he performed the ritual -- she could die. Mixing such strong vampire blood put the situation into unknown territory. The thought of ripping the a**hole’s heart out only spiked his rage. He raised his hand, made a fist, and punched it into the door panel, cracking the authentic oak detailing.

Tempest jumped in her seat, French fries flying. “What the f**k’s wrong with you?” she shouted. “You scared the shitoutta me. Have you no respect for sick people? I’m recovering here!”

He stared straight ahead, scowling, and tried to remember the stone-cold killer he’d been only a couple of days ago.Before this human storm had upended his existence. Before she’d made him want things that were dangerous to want.

She rested her hand on his leg.“Hey,fuckwad . What’s going on? The temperature in here just took a nosedive. What are you pissed about?”

Startled by her touch, he swiveled his head toward her. “I was thinking about whatQuade did to you and what I’m going to do to him. I’m annoyed that I have to wait until tonight.”

She pulled her hand away. “Yeah, well, we’ll definitely kick his ass as soon as I get my second wind.

I’vegotta tellya , I feel like crap. Maybe there was something funky about that burger, and that’s why I ralphed .” She picked up a French fry from the floor, tentatively stuck it in her mouth, and nibbled slowly.

She repeated the process a few more times then sat back, smiling. “That’s more like it. Those little suckers just slide right down.”

Her last words barely rolled off her tongue before she gagged, grabbed the empty food bag, and lost the fries.

She flopped back into the seat and groaned, clutching her stomach. “Shit. I’m sick. That’s just what I need on top of every-fucking-other thing that’s happened over the last couple of days. I’m just going to close my eyes for a little while. Maybe that’s it. I’m just wiped, and it’sall your fault.”

As soon as she closed her eyes, he gave a mental command for her to drop into a deep sleep. If his suspicions were correct, sleep was the only pain-free option for her, at least until she fed on something she could keep down. And having Tempest unconscious certainly would make things easier when they got to their new daytime resting place.

* * * * *

Tempest opened her eyes, or thought she did. Everything was black. She reached up to feel if her eyelids were still closed, and her hand grazed something hard above her.

She tried to sit up and smacked her head on that same surface. When she lay down and tried to rub the sore spot, her hand ran into the same barrier again.

“Holy f**k.What now?” she said out loud as she so often did when things got weird. The last thing she remembered was sitting inMalveaux’s car and saying she was going to sleep for a while. This didn’t feel like the inside of the Jag.

Using both hands, she tentatively pushed on whatever it was, which now that she noticed, was covered by some kind of soft material. It moved, but not much. It was heavy. She was just about to push harder when it occurred to her that she had company. Slanting her gaze to the side, she tried to make out the form lying next to her. There wasn’t much light, but she could see the profile of a face.A familiar face.

Tempest exerted more pressure against the hardness and light flooded her eyeballs. She’d pushed open the hinged top of a huge, red satin-lined coffin. She sat up and found herself in some vast warehouse-type building. It reminded her of those giant furniture stores where you had to ride little golf carts around to find the cheap entertainment center of your dreams.

What was she doing in a furniture store? No. Wait. There were no coffins in furniture stores. The strangely large, dirt nap box was fancy. Gold handles, shiny black surface, like the thing in that old Stanley Kubrick space movie.

A horrible idea hit her, and she gasped. “Shit!” She turned toMalveaux stretched out along side her and ran her fingers down his still, oddly blue face. His skin was frigid. She shook him, “Hey,fuckwad . Where are we? Wake up!”Nothing.

Truly panicked now, she stood. “Jesus Christ! I’m africkin ’ vampire! I’m dead! The son of a bitch did it after all!” She didn’t know if she wanted to kick the shit out ofMalveaux , scream at the top of her lungs, or sob like a baby.

She let a good head of pissed-off steam build up, and then another thought occurred to her. She touched her own warm skin. “Wait a minute. If I was dead, I’d be cold like heat-and-serve pretty boy, but I’m not. Okay, maybe I’m not dead.” She looked down atMalveaux ,creeped out by the idea that he actually did die during the day. An involuntary shudder wiggled down her body. She’d been locked in a casket with a dead guy.

Voices echoed in the distance, and she jumped out of the coffin, which was tucked back in a corner of the vast room, displayed on a fake tiger fur rug. She reached up and closed the coffin lid. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to find a corpse in one of the demo caskets. She crouched in the shadows.

The voices receded, and Tempest let out the breath she’d been holding. When the coast was clear, she crawled out from her hiding place and stood. Where the f**k was she? As if in silent answer, a neon sign directly across the room flickered to life:

%%Crazy Dave’s Death Emporium

Coffins ‘R’ Us

Cremations While You [email protected]@

She had to shove part of her fist into her mouth to keep from laughing hysterically. She’d heard about this place.Some rich whacko with a death fetish.

Waking up in bizarre places was starting to feel normal. According to the digital clock hanging underneath a sign that read “How Much Time Do You Have Left?” it would be dark in about three hours.

She’d be safe until then.

First order of business: take the Jag and drive to her apartment. DidMalveaux keep the keys in his pocket?Only one way to find out. She lifted the coffin lid, stared at his gorgeous yet lifeless face, then patted down his pockets, noticing he still managed to sport an impressive erection. She had a fleeting thought about that and then let it go. No keys. They must be in the car. “I guess this is goodbye, pretty boy. Thanks for the nightmare.”

She lowered the coffin lid and headed for the exit sign.

The door creaked open, and Tempest stepped out into a cold, gray day. She rubbed her hands together, grateful for the clothesMalveaux had provided. Her father’s jacket was warm but wouldn’t have protected her legs.

Snow-covered asphalt filled with semi trucks stretched as far as she could see. She guessed the rumors about Crazy Dave were true. The media darling had a clandestine life as an underworld figure, and all those trucks lining up to unload were filled with hot merchandise. No wonder this building was the size of an airport. She mentally filed the information away for future use. Life in the inner city had taught her to keep her eyes and ears open.

But she had more pressing matters to deal with. Where was the Jag?

She circled halfway around the building before spotting the silver car.Malveaux had parked it as far away from the activity as possible. When she got within a few feet of the vehicle, she suddenly felt afraid, paranoid, and terrified for no apparent reason. She trusted her intuition, so she squatted down behind an ungodly huge SUV and looked for trouble. No trouble presented itself. She started to question her sanity and then rememberedMalveaux’s ability to surround the car with a dread vibe to keep potential thieves away. She stood, moved forward slowly, fighting a strong compulsion to run away, and pulled on the door handle. It opened. She peered inside and found the keys in the ignition and her guitar case and briefcase still in the back seat.

“Ha! Female intuition triumphs over vampire bullshit! Score one for the Motor City Mama!”

She slid into the seat, kicked over the engine, and peeled out of the parking lot.

Her drive from the edge of the city to its center took more time than she expected. Fucking snow slowed the traffic. Asshole drivers freaked out and drove like geezers inFlorida .

When she reached her building, she had to circle the block to find a place to park. Luckily a rectangle of snow-free cement a half-block down became available when somebody dug his vehicle out of the white crap and drove away. She eased in. The Jag drove like a dream. She wondered if the “dread” thing was still active, or ifMalveaux would come looking for her when his toy was appropriated by one of her lowlife neighbors. She’d deal with that if it happened, and she’d lock the door the regular old human way.

She collected her belongings from the back seat, slammed the door, clicked the lock, and pocketed the keys.

The familiar curry smell in the hallway gagged her, and she bolted up the stairs. She knew she’d have to eat something that didn’t make her barf, but even the thought of food made her stomach churn.

It seemed like a week since she’d been home, and she was eager to take the world’s longest, hottest shower and drink a few hundred beers. A couple of feet away from the door she got a weird feeling, which was heightened by the fact that her door was cracked open a few inches.

She leaned her guitar case and briefcase against the wall, pushed the door with her finger and watched it swing open. Something smelled horrible.

She sucked in a breath and screamed.

Her apartment was filled with blood. It dripped down the walls, pooled on the old carpet, and oozed from the broken bodies lying in unnatural poses, scattered around the room: the bodies of her roommate Lauren and all the guys in the band.

Chapter Thirteen

Shocked, Tempest ran to Lauren and dropped to her knees on the bloody carpet. Her roommate’s limp body was draped backwards over the arm of the couch. From that angle, Tempest could see a pulse beating faintly in Lauren’s neck. She could also see several sets of double puncture wounds. Some of the blood appeared dark, as if it had been there a while.

“Fucking vampires!Quade!”

She ran to the telephone and dialed “911.” As soon as she heard someone answer, she started yelling,

“Send an ambulance! They’re dying! Get over here now!” She didn’t even stop for air. She gave her address, threw the phone down, and leaped over to the nearest band member.

   
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