Blood Memories

I didn't know whether to respect his honesty or despise him for being such a bastard-in-training. Would my gift work? That was the trick. Men like Travis or Derek back in Portland had such soft hearts they were easy to manipulate. But I could never bring myself to hurt people like them-except in a few cases of emergency. It bothered me a little less to feed on hard cases like Jeff, but he was more difficult to reach, to seduce into cavalier mode.

We crossed the tracks, and I tripped on purpose, emanating uncertainty and helplessness. As though it would never occur to him to do otherwise, he turned and caught my arm. There was still a bit of human in him somewhere. Good.

His highly uncharacteristic action brought stunned expressions from both Travis and Dodger, but he didn't seem to notice and kept walking. I turned off the power for a while, knowing it worked if necessary.

"Listen," I said, "when we get to your friend's place, can you go in by yourself?"

"Why?"

"Deals scare me. Maggie went in to get some stuff with a couple of guys last month and almost got busted. I don't like cops."

"Yeah, okay. But you ditch me, and I'll kick your teeth in. Me and Travis gotta trade a few free runs to pay for this shit, and I don't use it myself."

Charming.

"You're crack runners?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes. Depends on cash-flow problems. I don't like cops either."

We stopped by a run-down apartment building. "This is it," he said. "Be right back."

He disappeared inside.

Maggie kept up small talk with Travis but glanced at her watch a few times. After three minutes she said, "I need to find a ladies' room." She pointed up the street toward a dimly lit gas station. "You meet us up there when Jeff comes out."

Travis wavered for a second, not quite sure if he should let her leave, and then nodded. "Yeah, sure." Why would she take off when he was getting her what she wanted?

I followed her at a normal pace until we were out of sight. Moving around the nearest shack, we doubled back down an alley, entering the apartment building from the other side. As far as Dodger and Travis knew, we'd gone down the street to a gas station, and Jeff was on his own making a deal. People disappear all the time over money, coke, or crack. He might never come back out of the apartment, but no one would suspect a couple of hookers who'd gone to pee at the local Exxon. His friends would be confused and angry and scared, and in an hour they wouldn't know what to think.

Inside, the staircase smelled like rotting vegetables. Since we didn't know what room number Jeff had gone to, we just leaned inside the stairwell of the second-floor landing and kept watch.

Footsteps sounded a few minutes later as Jeff came down from an upper floor. Surprise crossed his features briefly. "I thought you'd wait outside."

"Got cold," Maggie answered. "Your friends are in the lobby."

He didn't seem to find that unusual and nodded. "Got the stuff. We can go to my place."

Of course, when we reached the lobby it was empty. "Where are they?" Jeff looked around.

"I don't know," Maggie said. "We should wait, though."

Stepping into the darkness under the bottom stairwell, I motioned to him with my hand. "Come in here."

He smiled slightly for the first time and walked over, ducking his head to move inside the shadows. He pushed me up against the back wall. I couldn't see anything, but smelled spearmint gum on his breath. This was Maggie's usual trip, not mine, so I let him lead for a few seconds. His mouth moving up my neck felt alien. I didn't like it.

Too fast, I struck under his chin, catching the top layers of his throat but missing a solid hold. He actually screamed and rammed my backbone against the wall.

Careless on my part. Too fast.

Releasing my bite just long enough to get a better grip, I clung to him desperately, but he felt my teeth withdraw and pitched me off. He bolted back out into the lobby. I ducked after him in time to see Maggie grab his short blond hair.

She didn't try for a grip, but just jerked him back, bit down once at the full extension of her mouth, and ripped. Dark blood sprayed her dress. His face was horrible, not some sleepy, half-conscious sweet dreamer like Gunner had been last week. Twisting panic and disbelief contorted Jeff's mouth, and he lost consciousness while still kicking and gasping.

When he stopped moving, Maggie dragged him back under the stairs. We took turns feeding. I tried not to think or feel anything as I saw flickering images of his life pass through my mind while drinking his blood… comic books, beer bottles, an angry mother who hated herself.

I pulled away from his throat and closed my eyes.

Using a knife she always carried in her handbag, Maggie cut jagged slashes in the torn flesh of his throat, making it look like someone had done a poor job murdering him. I took his wallet, and we walked out the back, leaving him for the janitor to find-if this dive had a janitor.

"There's a pint of blood on my dress," she hissed.

"I'm sorry."