Companions of the Night Page 8

Kerry spared a thought to be pleased that she had been right about that. And if she could keep her wits about her, gather enough useful information, she just might be able to overcome Ethan, rescue Dad and Ian, and come out of this alive.

  Ethan was saying, "So they probably weren't dead at the house and it would be no advantage to take them away from the house and then kill them. Whoever is after me has invested a significant amount of time studying the situation. He ... She ... They ... aren't going to rush things now. I'd say your family is safe enough for the next few days. Their best hope is for us not to become overly hasty through misplaced concern."

  Kerry tried to find the flaws in his reasoning, besides the obvious one: that he had no concern for her family. "That works out well for you," she finally said.

  He just flashed a cold smile.

  When he didn't volunteer any more information, she asked, "What are we going to do at the Bergen Swamp once we get there?"

  Ethan stopped for a red light out in the middle of a country crossroad, no other traffic in sight. He rested his face in his hands. "Get rid of Regina's body."

  Kerry still hadn't been able to figure out what he felt about Regina's death: grief for a loved one, or annoyance because the circumstances were inconvenient, or something else she couldn't begin to guess. Every time she settled on one, he did or said something that shifted the balance again. Could vampires love?

  "The light's changed," she told him.

  After a few more miles of silence she asked, "So she's truly dead?"

  This time he couldn't seem to grasp what she was asking.

  Before he was forced to state the obvious, that her head had been cut off, Kerry said, "I mean, I thought the only way to kill a vampire was a stake through the heart."

  He was looking at her as though she were crazy. The worst part was she wasn't sure why.

  "I thought anything less than that, the vampire would recover from."

  Though for the moment they still seemed centered in the correct lane, he hadn't glanced away from her to check the road for what seemed to be an incredibly long stretch.

  "Like you recovered from your injuries," she said. "Would you please watch the road?"

  "God," he said.

  Excuse me for my ignorance, she wanted to say. I wasn't exactly sure what the term undead covered. Instead, she just said, "Well, I didn't know."

  "What, you thought her head would grow a new body? Or her body a new head? Or the two pieces could just be stuck together, like—"

  "All right, I'm sorry. I thought your recovery was just about miraculous."

  "It wasn't anywhere near the same," he snapped.

  "All right."

  He cast a sudden worried look at her, which came a moment before she realized she had learned a potentially valuable lesson: Vampires were susceptible to a variety of deaths, if the injuries were severe enough.

  She said, "All I was asking was if she'd be coming back."

  "She won't be coming back," Ethan said. There was no way to tell how much he suspected she guessed.

  IT WAS ABOUT a forty-five-minute drive to Rochester. Kerry asked herself about forty-five times if she was doing the right thing. How far should she trust Ethan? That was an easy one: not at all. And yet—and yet—he had let her live, when all he had needed her for so far was to light the gasoline while he carried Regina's body to the car. With an extra two minutes he could have done that himself. Yet why bring her to Rochester to kill her when he could have done it at Regina's house? Unless he didn't want her charred bones found in the wreckage of the house, for some reason she couldn't work out. Or unless there were some sort of vampire hierarchy, and he planned to offer her as a gift to the chief or king or president vampire. Which didn't make a whole lot of sense.

  As they reached the suburbs, as they slowed from the fifty-five m.p.h speed limit and started having to stop for lights and traffic, Kerry wondered what were her chances of surviving should she throw herself out of the car and run screaming for help. Not very good, she estimated. Surely Ethan had taken into consideration that she might try something of that nature. No doubt he had confidence in his ability to stop her before she attracted attention But he was still taking a risk. What could he possibly hope to gain?

  Unless he had spoken the truth. Unless he needed her help to get to Regina's killers.

  If that was the case, escaping—even if possible—would doom Dad and Ian.

  But how likely was it Ethan would let her live with all that she was seeing and learning about vampires? Which brought her right back to: Was she doing the right thing?

  Kerry had been hoping that whatever Ethan needed he could find in one of the outlying suburbs, but he drove right into the city. Not only that, but into one of the sleazier parts of the city.

  "Do you trust me?" Ethan asked.

  "No." Kerry was amazed that he even had to ask.

  He gave his soft, pleasant, insincere laugh. "All for the best, I suppose, but that's going to make this more difficult Please don't do anything stupid."

  He'd been looking for a parking space and now he pulled over. Even though it was eleven o'clock, this particular section of the city was brightly lit; at least those buildings that weren't boarded over and spray-painted were brightly, even garishly, lit. Women—and some girls who looked not quite as old as Kerry herself—walked by in tight skirts and high heels. Despite the cold, most had their jackets unbuttoned or unzipped so they could be seen better The jacket of choice seemed to be rabbit with leather trim. There were a few young men, too, though most of the men were in the cars that very slowly cruised down the street.

  "What are we doing here?" Kerry demanded.

  "Shopping."

  She'd been right the first time. He was looking for someone to drain of blood, someone who wouldn't be missed.

  Ethan tugged on her arm, trying to get her to come out the driver's door, obviously suspecting that if he got out first she might lock the doors behind him, which at the moment struck her as a very good idea. Kerry clutched the door handle and dug in with her sneakers and her bottom.

  Ethan pulled, strongly enough to make her slide effortlessly across the seats. "I asked you not to do anything stupid," he hissed into her ear.

  Out on the street, the prostitutes watched with mild interest. She was sure they thought she was one of them and they were wondering if he was through with her and going to trade her in. Even when it was apparent he wasn't going to let go of her arm, some of the women blew kisses or stood with their hands in their pockets, holding their jackets open, just in case.

  She was concentrating so much on the people around them, she didn't realize until the last second that Ethan was leading her into one of the stores. She balked when she saw the sign:

  LOVE, ETC.

  books, videos, etc.

  "Trust me," Ethan whispered, beyond all reason "It's not as bad as you think."

  The store was awful. Lingerie with cutouts Men's bikini briefs with peacock feathers. Posters of couples: men and women, men and men, women and women. There was no place Kerry could look that she didn't see something embarrassing. And she felt stupid because some of the stuff was embarrassing even though she didn't know what it was. And then she felt stupid to feel stupid, because there was no reason for her to feel embarrassed. The people who ran the store should be embarrassed.

  At least Ethan kept a tight hold on her hand while he spoke to the man behind the counter. Her hand was sweaty, his, as always, was colder than any living person's. For the moment she didn't mind what they looked like. She wanted people to think they were together. Especially the other customer in the store, a scuzzy-looking man in a long coat. Kerry stared at her feet, sure that if she glanced up he was going to flash her.

  She suddenly realized that what Ethan was buying were handcuffs. Which was bad, but probably not as bad as it could be. If he wanted to restrain her physically, he was strong enough to do it without handcuffs.

  "Enjoy," the clerk said with a smirk i
n his voice.

  Back at the car, they got in the same way they'd gotten out, through the driver's side. Once settled, Ethan turned to her and asked, "Are you all right?"

  As if he couldn't see that she was shaking. "Fine," she snapped. "How not?"

  "If I intended you harm...," he said with his mocking smile. "Well, I wouldn't need these. These are protection."

  So they were for her.

  What was he waiting for? For her to acknowledge that he was doing her a favor?

  "Compared to this," Ethan said as he started the engine and pulled away from the curb, "the next part will be a piece of cake."

  After a while she couldn't take it anymore. "What's the next part?" she asked.

  "We steal a car."

  Chapter Nine

  THEY PULLED INTO a car dealership on the outskirts of Rochester. The place was closed, but the parking lot was well lit. No doubt to keep people from doing exactly what Ethan was planning on doing.

  "We already have a car," Kerry said miserably. "Why do you need another one?"

  "I don't want this one noticed anywhere near the Bergen Swamp."

  What was worse was knowing he was right. Every step of the way, he kept making decisions that were right, and she kept getting pulled further and further into the wrong. What would Dad say if he knew what she was doing? Dad had made her take a ring she'd found on the running track at school to campus security—that was how honest he was. How would he react to her stealing a car? Let me find out, she prayed She was willing to face anything if she could only know that she'd find Dad and Ian alive on the other side of it.

  Ethan made her get out in front of the big door marked SERVICE DEPT.

  "You should turn off the headlights, shouldn't you?" she suggested. "So we'll be less obvious?"

  "I want to be obvious. Here, lean on the hood, pretend to fill this out." He handed her a form he'd gotten from a metal container by the door.

  "What are we doing?" she asked as he reached under the driver's seat and pulled out a flannel-wrapped package about the size of an envelope but a little thicker. "And what's that?"

  "These are various-size lock picks. And we are using the overnight drop-off service, in case the police drive by."

  Kerry leaned on the hood and stared at the form. Ethan was looking into the parked cars. "If these cars are broken and need to be fixed," she asked, "how do we know the one we'll take won't have its engine fall out halfway there?"

  "Well, of course we can't be sure," Ethan replied as he crouched down on the far side of a blue Shadow, presumably to fiddle with the lock, "though I do believe the manufacturer generally prefers the term serviced to fixed. And I don't think a car is ever technically referred to as broken."

  "Whatever," Kerry grumbled.

  He opened the door, and his voice became muffled as he leaned to do something with the steering column. "In this particular case, the car has just over a thousand miles, so it probably isn't broken at all; it's in for its thousand-mile warranty check. And—special bonus at no extra cost—it's blue."

  "Don't tell me, blue is your favorite color." The Skylark was blue, too, though a darker shade.

  "Blue is a wonderfully nondescript color for a car," Ethan said. "Nobody notices a blue car." The Shadow's engine rumbled to life.

  "Handy trick," Kerry said. "Where did you learn so much about cars?"

  "Ah, it's something they teach us in vampire school." Before she could think of a suitable reply, Ethan had stashed his breaking-and-entry tools in his pocket. "Get in," he told her.

  While she did, he doused the lights on the Skylark and transferred Regina's quilt-wrapped body to the backseat of the Shadow. He'd also gotten the denim jacket from Regina's car, probably while Kerry was busy torching Regina's house.

  "Leftovers?" she asked as Ethan tossed it into the Shadow's backseat. "From one of Regina's victims?"

  "Possibly." Ethan shrugged. "I certainly didn't know all of Regina's business. It's history now."

  At least that's over, she thought once the evidence was safely in the new car. But the instant he slammed the back door, Kerry saw a black-and-white police car turn into the parking lot. I'm going to get killed, she thought. Either Ethan's going to rip my throat out so I can't tell them anything, or we'll crash and burn during a high-speed chase, or the police will open fire....

  But far from seeming perturbed, Ethan walked slowly around the front of their newly acquired car to the passenger side, where he rapped his knuckles on her window.

  Incredulous, she rolled it down.

  "Do you have the form?" he asked.

  "I didn't really fill it out," she whispered.

  "I should hope not." He took it from her and stood there as though checking what she'd written then he dropped it into the mail-slot-like opening in the service department's door.

  The police car was cruising the lot, shining a light in the salesroom.

  Still not hurrying, Ethan got into the car beside her. "How about stopping for an ice cream?" he asked.

  "You're not taking this seriously enough," she told him, even though the police showed no inclination thus far to arrest them or to open fire.

  "But I am. We still have too much time. I don't want to go to the swamp until as late as possible, to lessen our chances of being seen." Ethan pulled out of the parking lot. "Don't look back," he warned. "I'm watching." After a few moments, he said, "They're not following us."

  Kerry put her hands over her face. "I can't stand this."

  "Nonsense," he told her. "You're a natural."

  Which was not an encouraging thought.

  "Why are we headed back toward Rochester?" Kerry asked.

  "More traffic this way, just in case we were followed. Besides, I promised you ice cream."

  "This is not a date."

  He just laughed.

  They stopped at a restaurant, where he insisted on buying her a sundae. After looking at the menu as though unable to make up his own mind, he finally told the waitress, "I'll just have a decaf." He smiled charmingly.

  "Afraid of staying up all night?" Kerry asked.

  He turned the smile on her. "Tell me about school," he said instead of answering.

  "Why?"

  "What else are we going to talk about in here? What éelectives are you taking? What do you hope for out of life?"

  "Oh no." She set down her glass of water so firmly the water sloshed over the rim and onto her hand. "I'm not going to have you sit there and judge me and decide if my life is worthwhile."

  "All right, then," he said equably. "Have you seen any good movies lately?"

  She glared at him warily, wondering why he wanted to know, how he could possibly use this information against her.

  The sundae came and once she smelled the hot fudge, she found that beyond all reason she was hungry after all. How can I be hungry when I don't even know if my family is still alive? she chided herself. When I don't know whether I'll still be alive by the end of the night? But it seemed silly to go hungry until then, just to spite Ethan.

  Meanwhile, Ethan carried the conversation by himself, chattering about movies and TV and books and current events. He poured sugar and cream in his coffee, occasionally ran his finger around the rim or otherwise played with it but never drank a sip.

  "Can we go?" she finally asked, as a group of bizarrely dressed young people came in, loud and laughing and obviously regulars.

  "It's the Rocky Horror Picture Show contingent," Ethan said brightly. It was a relief for Kerry to learn they were apparently in costume and didn't normally dress that way, considering the makeup that some of them were wearing, boys as well as girls. Two or three had toilet paper draped over their shoulders. It wasn't a relief that a couple of them waved and Ethan waved back.

  "Friends of yours?" she asked.

  "Not the way you mean," he answered. "Have you ever been..." He let the question drift off and gave her one of those evaluating looks. "No, I don't suppose you have. You really should consi
der having some fun once in a while."

  "How dare you—"

  But at least he was getting up, paying, leaving.

  She followed, scowling at the group of teenagers, unable to think of any way to warn them away from Ethan.

  Outside, it was even colder than she had remembered, and her breath came out frostily. Apparently by this time Ethan had enough confidence that she wouldn't lock him out that he let her get in the car in the normal way. He even held the door for her. Then again, she remembered, he had his lock picks in his pocket.

  "Geez, Kerry," he said, still in his just-an-average-guy-out-on-a-date mode, "you've really got to develop your conversational skills."

  Of all the nerve. "If you talked about something important—," she started.

  "We can talk about important things now that we're alone," he said, starting the car. "What shall we discuss?"

  "The possibility of Regina's body getting blood all over the backseat of this car."

  From infuriatingly cheerful, Ethan went straight into angry. "First of all," he said, "so what? Second, dead bodies don't bleed: it's the beating of the heart that causes blood to move through veins and arteries." Considering the way he generally kept his voice soft and even and unemotional, she was stunned by his vehemence, though she had no idea what he was so vehement about. "And third, there's no blood left in Regina's body anyway."

  "What are you saying?" she asked. Suddenly the ice cream sundae seemed to collect in the pit of her stomach like a solid lump. "You drank from her?" she whispered.

  "No." Ethan gave her a look that indicated he was as horrified as she. "No," he repeated.

  "Vampires can't drink each other's blood?" she asked.

  "Of course they can drink each other's blood," he said. "How do you think—" He cut himself off. "But she was dead That'd be like ..."

  "Never mind," she told him. By the look on his face, she didn't want to hear whatever analogy he came up with.

  "It would be worse than drinking an animal's blood."

  "Vampires don't drink animal blood?"

  He shook his head.

  She guessed. "Or ... collected blood from the Red Cross?"