American Vampire (Page 42)

Aaron King’s stun gun.

It did little damage to the big Texan in front of me, but the vampire did turn and grab at the wires, and when he did so, I leaped forward, and drove the silver dagger deep into him.

Deep into his heart.

I shrank away as the Texan went into wild convulsions. I had seen death before, but never quite like this. He didn’t want to die. That much was clear. His body fought it, clawing at his bloody chest, which hissed steam. He turned to me more than once as if to ask: What the hell have you done? He even lunged at me one more time but didn’t get very far.

He collapsed on the tiled floor, back arched, steam rising, holding his chest, gasping like a fish out of water. He did that for an unbelievable amount of time before he finally quit moving.

* * *

"I’ve seen some weird shit in my time," said Aaron King next to me. "But this takes the cake."

We were in the living room. Little Maddie was wrapped in blankets and resting in one corner of the voluminous couch. Aaron was sitting next to me, holding my hand, and holding my jaw in place, too.

"You can’t talk, I know, but what happened back there…" he started shaking his head, his face paler than any vampire’s. "What the hell did happen back there?"

I could have reached out with my mind, but I didn’t. The old guy seemed to have had enough of a shock. I was just too exhausted to speak, even telepathically.

The bullet had traveled through my stomach and out my lower back, leaving a hell of a messy hole. Still, the exposure to silver was doing a number on me, leaving me exhausted and nearly unconscious.

"Your poor jaw, lil’ darlin’. Your poor arm. Sweet Jesus, what the hell went on back there?" He started shaking his head again, and then I saw there were tears in his eyes. "And what were they doing to this little one? They were taking her blood, weren’t they? Is she sick?"

I tried shaking my head. He understood my minute impulse. "No, of course she ain’t sick. They’re sick. Good Lord, what were they doing to her?"

I tried shaking my head again.

Aaron King said, "Maybe I should quit asking so many questions."

I tried to smile. The old man held my jaw and my arms and did his best to comfort me.

"The paramedics are coming. Tribal police will be here soon, too. We have a hell of a mess on our hands. I don’t know where to start explaining or what to say." He looked at me kindly, but I saw the confusion in his eyes. And fear. "You were shot in the stomach, stabbed in the arm. But your wounds have stopped bleeding…"

He let his voice trail off and the old guy just kept holding me and patting me and keeping my poor, broken jaw in place, and we sat like that until the police swarmed into the room….

* * *

It was late.

I was loaded in the back of an ambulance. It was also coming on morning, which was perhaps an hour or so away. We had spent the night being quizzed from every conceivable angle. Mercifully, Detective Hanner from the Fullerton Police Department had appeared. And once she arrived, things started settling down.

Now Aaron King and I were left alone, and that’s when he told me that he had decided to come check things out for himself. He didn’t like the idea of me being alone. A few routine questions at the front desk – and no doubt full use of his Southern charm – had led him to connect Carl Luck with the oil-rich Texan. A few more inquiries later and he was on his way up to the suite…when he’d discovered the shattered door.

I nodded and whispered a thank you. Amazingly, I felt my jaw healing. It had also settled back into place; that is, roughly where it should be. Maybe I would forever have an overbite. As Aaron King sat there in the back of the ambulance, holding my hand, Detective Hanner opened the back door. She asked if she could have a moment alone with me, and the old investigator nodded. She told him he was no longer needed and he squeezed my hand lightly and said he would check up on me in a few days.

I nodded and wanted to thank him and I think he knew how grateful I was to him. Aaron King, who wasn’t really Aaron King, nodded to Detective Hanner and left.

Hanner looked at me, then jabbed a thumb in King’s direction. "Was that who I think it was?"

I nodded again, and she shook her head and slipped inside the ambulance and shut the door behind her.

"We need to talk," she said.

Chapter Fifty-nine

"Well, I need to talk," she corrected. "I assume your jaw has not healed yet."

I shook my head gingerly.

She leaned over and examined me carefully. "Yeah, that’s bad. Give it a day or so and you should be fine. At least, well enough to talk." She lowered her voice further. "Kingsley asked me to talk to you."

She laughed lightly, as I’m sure my eyes just about popped out of my head.

"Yes, I’ve known Mr. Fulcrum for a long, long time. Probably longer than you’ve been alive." She sat on the edge of my gurney, resting her hands in her lap, and only occasionally looked me directly in the eyes. And when she did, those few times that our eyes actually met, I had the disconcerting feeling that I was looking at something very alien. Her eyes were a little too wide. Too searching. Too penetrating. And wild. So damn wild.

She’s not human, I thought, and then wondered if she could hear my thoughts, too. Maybe that’s why she rarely looked me in the eye. Maybe she knew the effect her eyes had.

Jesus, did I look like that, too?

But Detective Hanner did not give me any indication that she had heard my thoughts. Or maybe I was getting better at shielding them. I didn’t know. There was still so much to learn.

"Kingsley told me that you might have the medallion. He was sketchy on this, as he knows its importance and value. And he is right in not being too forthcoming about this. People will kill for that medallion. Vampires especially. You see, not all of us desire our current state. Some of us wish to be human again."

Her eyes flashed over mine briefly, and her pupils were nothing more than tiny black pinpricks. Her eyes continued over my face and settled on my jaw.

"He thought he could trust me, and that I might help you."

She looked at me again, and I suddenly realized how vulnerable I was in this position. Her pupils flared briefly, and she nodded. "He’s right, of course. You can trust me." She looked at my arm, cocking her head to one side. "But you shouldn’t take my word for it. There’s many like us who aren’t honorable. There are many like us who are like him – " and here she nodded to another ambulance where I knew lay two bodies, Carl Luck and Captain Jack –  "Yes, there are many who rape and pillage and act like asses. Just like humans, I suppose.