Ten, p.18
Ten, page 18
“Why are you here?” she hissed.
“Why didn’t you tell your boyfriend that you were coming to see me?” he hissed right back. “Still afraid that he’ll be jealous?”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to clean this damn bathroom again if you keep making me angry. Now answer my questions!”
“You haven’t answered any of mine—”
Paige responded by flicking out her claws. He managed to grab her wrist mere inches from his smirking face. She sneered as he took a step closer. They remained locked in place, unblinking, until he finally dropped her hand. Paige remained frozen, trying her best to fight the blush creeping up her face.
“I need to get my blood out of you sooner rather than later,” he whispered in her ear. “If it’s not gone before the damn ball, there will be consequences.”
She jerked away from him, but her cheeks had already turned bright red and her hands shook. The vampire took the hint and backed up further, but in the close contained space of a modern bathroom, both breathed a little faster.
“I admit that having Mr. Blaylock here complicates matters,”
Lorcan sighed. “I suppose we shall have to meet again.”
“Oh no, you don’t just get to track me down to my mother’s house and then bail,” Paige growled. “Have you found anything more about my grandfather? He’s really sick—”
“I fear that your great-grandfather is as rash and foolish as the rest of his family, Miss Paige. Another Jaeger has apparently taken a trip to New York over the weekend—”
“You don’t think that they would try to turn him into a—”
Lorcan shook his head slowly. “Kyle and I looked at your grandfather’s chart. He’d never survive his rebirth. I’m more afraid that your great-grandfather may be misguided in trying to prolong his son’s life through his blood.”
“Will it work?” Paige asked.
Lorcan looked pointedly away. “Our blood can cure many illnesses, but it also makes some much worse. While we can prevent infections and even cure some, vampires tend to greatly exacerbate cancers—”
“Does Steve know?”
“The Jaeger family are warriors, not scientists,” Lorcan said softly. “I’ll try my best to take care of this matter as quickly and quietly as possible before there is any more irreparable damage, but you must be prepared for the very real possibility that—”
She choked up and shook her head. Instinctively, the vampire rushed over to embrace her. This time she heard a soft whooshing sound as she leaned her head against his chest. “Sometimes the worst tragedies come from the best of intentions,” he whispered as he held her close.
“I must say that was one of the finest meals I’ve had in ages,” Junior sighed as he patted his belly. “My daughter is a chef, but she always wanted to cook fancy French or Italian rather than good ole steak and potatoes. Was it just me, or was there booze in that pudding?”
Georgia helped the slightly staggering man out the front door.
She licked the faint taste still on her lips and nodded. “Whiskey, I think. Are you OK?”
“OK? This is the best damn day of my life. Did Steve tell you how we found this awesome strip club in Connecticut this afternoon? Oh, and wait until you see the car!”
“The. . . car?” she asked as the four of them waited at the valet.
She didn’t have to wait long until she heard a deep, guttural roar of an engine rising from the bowels of the hotel garage. She only needed to see the oversized, angular, neon orange hood to realize just what sort of monstrosity Steve had decided to drive around town. “Subtle and classy,” she sighed.
“That, Sweetheart, is a 1986 Lamborghini Countach,” Steve said proudly as the wide, sloping beast rolled to a stop in front of him.
“Don’t tell me that you’ve never wanted to feel a V-12 beneath you.”
“Alright, I won’t tell you,” Georgia muttered. Next to her, the old man alternated between coughs and giggles. He whipped out a handkerchief to cover his mouth, and as he pulled it away, Georgia noticed a few red spots on the white fabric.
She slipped around the car and tried to surreptitiously tap Steve on the shoulder to get his attention, but the mix of heels, slightly damp November sidewalks, and a good buzz sent her toppling against his arm.
“Well, I knew the car was good for picking up chicks, but this is unexpected,” he said as he straightened her up.
“The old man probably needs a rest,” she said softly.
Her words weren’t soft enough. Junior drummed his hands on the roof of the Lamborghini and whined, “Don’t tell me that the party isn’t going all night,” he whined. “I just need another shot, and I think I’m up for round two at the Blue Lion.”
“Shot?” Georgia asked.
“Come on, Sweetheart, Gingersnaps,” Steve said with his best smile. “This has the potential to be the night of legends. You can’t bail on us now.”
She raised a brow at the two leather bucket seats versus the four people standing around an eighties supercar, while the poor valet looked on expectantly. Mr. Lambley pulled a green note from his pocket and handed it over. As soon as the valet saw the face of one Benjamin Franklin on the greenback, he took a step back and seemed content to let the crew loiter as long as they liked.
Steve simply smiled and whipped out his phone. A few clicks later and he was able to wave his hand towards another growling engine emerging from the garage. All three of his companions gawked as a blood red, sleek, modern beast of a car rolled next to the orange monstrosity.
All eyes shifted to the main door of the hotel and to the dramatic entrance of the owner of the sanguine Nissan. She wore oversized shades even though it was after eleven PM and strutted fearlessly into public in a zebra-fur jacket with patent leather stilettos. She tipped down her shades so that her unnaturally bright blue irises
could peek between the tops of her frames and her striking platinum blonde fringe. She gave Georgia a little wink.
“Guten Abend, mein bruder!” she said in a chipper little cheerleader voice. “It’s so good to see you with your little friends.
Oh, and if it isn’t my dear sweet little Berliner. I was told that there was going to be one hell of a party, no?”
“What is Minerva doing here?” Georgia managed to squeak out.
The perky, young German responded by prancing over to Georgia and kissing her on both cheeks, making sure to leave perfect little red lip prints. Georgia narrowed her eyes at her. At this distance she could clearly see that she was wearing contacts and that her fangs were a different shade of red from her lipstick.
“Oh, come now, wee Berliner; I know zhat you missed me.”
“Not the first word that came to mind,” Georgia muttered. Junior, on the other hand, looked about ten years younger as his eyes surveyed the bombshell from stem to stern. Minerva obliged him with a quick pose that perfectly accentuated her perky assets.
“Well, I can seat three. Who is with me?” Minnie cooed.
Junior looked hopefully over towards Steve. The young vampire gave an exaggerated eye roll but waived his hand. “It’s your night, do what you want,” he sighed.
Minnie continued to size up Georgia, taking particular notice of the human’s pretty but simple purple dress. “It’s so nice to see you haven’t changed,” the female vampire purred. “I mean, didn’t you wear zhat same thing last year?”
“Aren’t you afraid to be in public in that?” Georgia asked as she pointed to the fur coat.
Minerva gave a tittering little laugh as she swooped around her own obscene supercar. “But why? I ate zee pimp I took it from?” she asked before blowing Georgia one more kiss.
Georgia groaned as she watched both Mr. Lambley and Junior pile in with Minerva, leaving only the passenger seat in the Lamborghini free. With a deep sigh and heavy heart, she plopped into the slick, black rolls of leather, trying her best to ignore Steve’s giggles of delight as the gull-wing doors slid around them.
“Where are we going?” she finally dared to ask.
“Junior requested a night to remember, and he is partial to drinking and gambling,” Steve said as the engine revved a few times.
“Lucky for us, my dear sister worked very closely with several New England tribes to help them find ways to get rich on the white man’s vices, and she currently advises a few sympathetic criminal interests, oh, and politicians too if you count those as a different class of criminal.”
The car shuddered a bit as the vampire had to stop and start in downtown traffic. Meanwhile, Minerva and company had slipped easily ahead and were already racing towards the highway.
“Do you even know how to drive this?” Georgia asked as they lurched and nearly slammed into a BMW.
“Do you? Let’s just hope we don’t get pulled over with you behind the wheel. I’ve been around breweries that smell less alcoholic, Sweetheart.”
“What? Like the one you killed all your buddies in?” she snapped.
“But of course,” he growled before pulling a patented Masshole maneuver and cutting around a cab to make a rushed turn between waves of pedestrians. Georgia dug her hands into the little indentation on the door panel and held on for dear life as the land boat dodged and weaved through Boston traffic. She closed her eyes as some other import crossed mere inches from the front bumper. She only dared to open her eyes once the ride smoothed out into the relative calm of the Massachusetts Turnpike.
“I’m sorry for the brewery crack,” she muttered as they zipped past the iconic Green Monster and bright lights of Fenway Park.
“Oh, I deserve it,” he said with a smirk. “I deserve that and worse, Sweetheart.”
“So, should I be as terrified as I think I should be that Minnie has her hands in Washington and in Indian casinos?” she asked.
“Nah,” the vampire said as he finally shifted into a gear that didn’t make the whole car shudder. He grinned proudly as they were able to overtake a minivan. “Plus, sis is just in Washington to make sure that vampire interests are protected by your fine tax dollars—”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, every other minority gets protection, don’t they?”
“I’m pretty sure the Constitution was intended for human rights—”
“Now that’s just racist. Do you know how many vampires have fought and died for this great country?”
“I don’t think it counts if you get resurrected by Nazis—”
Steve burst into genuine guffaws. Georgia tried her best to cover mouth and let her giggles bounce harmlessly off the passenger side window.
“Don’t tell me that you didn’t miss this,” Steve said as he revved the car up a little more. Its terrifying engine noise seemed to be enough to drive traffic out of the left lane. He gave her a sly side eye.
“I know you’re about to say—”
“Alright, I won’t say it.” she offered with a little bit of a smile.
“That’s my girl,” the vampire said. They drove contently for a good half hour, only breaking the silence with occasional road observations. It was only once they made it through the last tollbooth that Georgia dared to highlight the elephant in the room.
“So, who is the old man?” she asked.
“His father was in my unit and he didn’t make it back. Let’s leave it at that.”
She tapped her nails against the center console until the vampire continued with, “I mean, here is this guy who spent his whole life without a father, and it was totally my fault. His mom should have remarried or something. He should have had some discipline and all that important stuff. Instead, he spends the better part of the twentieth century drunk as a skunk and chases every tail he can east of the Mississippi.”
“So, you look out for him and with you being, well, you—”
“I tried to stay out of his way. I only slipped in there once or twice, just when he was in big trouble. I mean, he messed with some family men, and I took care of that mess. I made sure his daughter’s heroin dealer ended up in a psych ward long enough for her to get clean.
That sort of thing. Now, now, you know—”
Georgia gave his arm a gentle squeeze and let him regain his composure. She watched the highway signs as they sped through central MA and made the southern turn to the land of insane drivers and casinos – namely Connecticut.
“So, his dad died in the war, and you looked out for him as best you could,” she said, just barely louder than the roar under the hood.
“He got sick. Lord knows, you couldn’t live the way he did and last forever, and that’s coming from a goddamned vampire, Sweetheart,” he sighed. “I found him rotting away in one of those places with goddamned flower prints on the wall and nurses who always ask ‘how’s our patient today’ when they really mean ‘ain’t you dead yet?’” It was enough to make my skin crawl.”
“You stole him from the hospital?” Georgia gasped.
“I freed him. Believe me, there are far better ways to go then just lying about, pissing in a bedpan, and watching TV till the reaper comes for you.”
“So, he’s—?”
“Yeah,” Steve muttered. “I asked him a simple question; if he only had days left, what would he want to do.”
“And his final wish?”
“We’ve already been through Atlantic City, the Big Apple, and a staggering array of gentleman’s clubs in just a few hours, but he wanted to have one last hurrah in some place special—”
“Steve—”
“You see, he thinks that I’m an illegitimate brat of his from one of his many forays into showgirls and barebacking,” Steve finally choked out. “So, for his last little breath of fresh air, he wanted to see where I lived and make sure I was OK, all while his real daughter is probably worried sick.”
“How could you do that to his family?” Georgia asked.
“Because they still have so much life to live, Sweetheart,” the vampire said, his voice catching a little. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, time will heal just about anything. Junior’s only got a few ticks left in his old clock, and I intend to make every one of them count. Wouldn’t you do the same if you had the chance? I mean, if you knew that someone you loved had a definite expiration date?”
“Damn it, I hate you sometimes,” she sniffled as she flopped against her seat. The tears started quickly and only barely dried as they finally rolled into their middle of the night destination – a behemoth casino full of RVs and discount shopping.
11
“MR. LAMBLEY!” Georgia cried as she saw a familiar mop of red hair poking out over a seat for some enormous slot machine dedicated to Uptown Chapel, his period soap opera of choice. He didn’t dare turn.
Instead, he hovered his stubby little fingers over the repeat wager button, his eyes dancing over the bright symbols.
“So shiny!” he exclaimed.
Georgia rushed to his side. Her eyes widened into saucers as she saw just how high the balance was on his credits tab. “Geoffrey, how much did you put on your card?”
Some peonies and characters lined up in a row, and fifty more dollars rolled onto his tab. It was Steve’s turn to peer at the screen.
“Damn, I’m taking you with me next time I gamble, Gingersnaps!” He then leaned over and whispered. “If they figure out that you can short out the machines, we’ll be answering to the sheriff, so be careful.”
“Where is Junior?”
“He was keen to follow the young Lady Fenstermacher to her room, so I’ve been partaking in the loosest slots in Connecticut,”
Geoffrey said as he proceeded to lose a few rounds.
“Oh, you don’t think—?”
Steve wrapped his arm around Georgia. “Let me get you a drink or ten—”
She turned her attention back to Mr. Lambley. “Don’t spend too much time on one machine. They have security cameras you know, and, um—”
“He’ll be fine. Look, the bar is right over there, in sight lines,” the vampire reassured her. He then gave a nod to Mr. Lambley.
“Remember the old Vegas trick, Red.”
“I don’t want to know what you’re talking about, but make sure you do it,” Georgia sighed as she allowed herself to be led to the nearby bar. Inebriated gamblers danced to a rock standard cover band, while a few hopeful singles sipped libations at the counter as they eyed the other prospects. More than a few heads turned as Steve sauntered in and flashed his practically phosphorescent smile.
Steve grabbed two beers in dark bottles and deftly swapped out his alcohol with something from his personal flask. Georgia clinked her bottle with his. “Mmm, Bud Light, you are a big spender,” she mused as they perched on two corner seats.
“Well, we could always dance while we wait for my sister—”
“I don’t dance and eww! You really think that Minnie—?”
“Sis is not picky and, trust me, for the thrill of me owing her a favor she’d bl—”
“No, no, no, no, no, no, just. . . no,” she said as she pressed a finger to his lips. “There are somethings best left unsaid. Will he be. .
. OK?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re more likely to be scarred for life than he will.
Come on, Sweetheart, we’re at a bar, albeit a tacky one. Let’s drink, talk, laugh. Who knows where this night will end?”
“Probably with me getting a hotel room and a ridiculously expensive cab back to Brookline. Of course, that depends on if Mr.
Lambley gambles away our fortune before we leave.”
“You know, you can be very negative at times, Sweetheart. I’m trying to show you—”
“If you even for one second try to turn this into a life lesson about seizing the day, I’m gonna start stabbing you with toothpicks until we find out just where your cellulose tolerance ends.”
“I love it when you talk dirty,” he said with a little smirk. They drank in silence until the cover band fired up one eighties one-hit wonder with a very distinctive intro.
She glared at him. “Did you somehow use your vampire powers to make this happen?” she hissed as “The Final Countdown” echoed
through the bar.
