Dead Spots

Ignoring the huffy blonde, who was still glaring in my general direction, I pulled out my phone and hit Jesse’s number, but the call didn’t even go through to voice mail, which meant he was actively avoiding me. Great. Now what the hell was I supposed to do?

 

My phone rang in my hand, making me jump, but when I glanced at the caller ID, it wasn’t Jesse’s name that came up. It was my brother’s. Oh, great. My thumb automatically slid toward the Ignore button, but then stopped. Honestly, what did I have to lose at this point? Without Jesse, there wasn’t a hell of a lot I could do, anyway, and if this ended up being my last night on earth...I should probably talk to my brother. I flipped the phone open.

 

“Scarbo?”

 

The pet name twisted in my stomach. “Hi, Jack. What’s up?” I said with false cheer.

 

He coughed nervously, and I smiled despite myself, picturing him scrubbing his hand over his hair. “Uh...Wow, I guess I didn’t really expect you to answer. It’s been a while.”

 

“Yeah, I know. Um, is everything okay?”

 

His voice perked up. “Oh, yeah, everything’s great. Sorry if I, you know, worried you or anything.”

 

There was another awkward pause, and suddenly, I felt ridiculous. Were we really having this conversation? We sounded like strangers, for crying out loud. This was my brother, who’d driven across Esperanza at three in the morning to pick me up from my first drinking party, who’d punched the first boy who’d broken my heart. This was Jack.

 

Do better, I told myself sternly. Be better at this. “How are things with you, Jack?”

 

He laughed nervously. “Good, actually. Really good. That’s kind of why I’m calling. I got a job in the city. I’m moving to LA.”

 

For a second there, my heart stopped beating. Jack, coming here? Having an entry point into my life, and therefore my world?

 

Not. Good.

 

“That’s really great, Jack,” I said lamely. “Um...What kind of work is it?”

 

“Pretty much the same thing I’m doing now, but there’s a whole research aspect, too. It’s a private company that makes medical equipment, and they want some professional lab techs to put new designs through the specs, try it out with all kinds of testing. But here’s the best part,” he continued, and his voice was suddenly bursting with excitement, “they’re going to help me pay for med school. They want me to get my MD, you know, and then keep working for them. They have a whole bunch of education incentives....” He gushed for a while about 401K benefits and med school, but I wasn’t listening anymore. This was terrible.

 

Unless, of course, I didn’t live through the night, in which case it was fine.

 

“Sorry, Scarbo, I know I’m going on and on. I’m just really excited, you know, and I was hoping maybe you and I could get together soon. It’s been too long.” I actually heard him swallow. “I know that I wasn’t the best big brother or anything after the accident—”

 

“Jack, you don’t—”

 

“No, hang on, I mean it. I should have done a better job, I know. It was my responsibility to look out for you, and I blew it. And I don’t know much about how things are for you now, but...I’d like to. I’m gonna be in the city next week, apartment hunting. Do you think we could get together for coffee?”

 

Guilt, guilt, guilt. I didn’t want Jack to be sorry. I wanted him to ignore me, to be the world’s shittiest sibling, because it helped balance out the fact that I’d gotten our parents killed. “I’ve kind of got a lot going on right now, Jack,” I hedged.

 

“Oh, okay,” he said amiably. “Well, listen, you’ve got my number. You should call me so we can get together. If I don’t hear from you in a couple weeks, I’ll try again.” He sounded so confident and relaxed, and I realized how much I’d missed him. And then, immediately after, that I might be dead really soon.

 

“Jackie...I love you, you know? And you didn’t do anything wrong, after Mom and Dad. I never, ever thought you did. Don’t carry that around, okay?”

 

“Okay, Scarb,” he said, surprise in his voice. “Thanks. I’ll, um...I’ll talk to you soon.”

 

We said good-bye, and I set my phone down on the little table—right next to the pictures of the Hess children, which Jesse had left behind when he’d stormed out.

 

And suddenly, I knew what to do. I looked at my watch: 8:45. Time to move. I hesitated for a second, considering whether I should run home for my Taser. I like carrying it when I go to big vampire events, but it would add at least forty minutes to my trip, and that was time I just didn’t have. Sighing, I headed for the van.

 

 

It was quite dark by the time I arrived at Dashiell’s house in Pasadena. I got myself buzzed in, parked the van, and performed my quick ding-dong-ditch modification before Beatrice opened the door. She was wearing a midnight-blue cocktail dress with some sort of elaborate weaving on the bodice, reminding me of medieval gowns, even as it clung to her curves. She was stunning, but seemed nervous and agitated when she ushered me in. More than anything, though, Beatrice looked worried.

 

“Scarlett—”

 

Without waiting for an invitation, I immediately headed in the direction of Dashiell’s office, with Beatrice a step behind me. She was tall, but she was also trotting along in four-inch heels without her usual vampire grace.

 

“I need to see him, Beatrice.”

 

“I am not sure this is the best time. He has had much trouble with the other vampires; they are so angry about Abraham and the others—” she rushed out, following me closely.

 

“That’s why I’m here, Bea. If I can find the person responsible, everything goes back to normal, right?”