Pool of Crimson

chapter 8



Cramped and tired of looking at the dashboard, I decided my Pontiac Grand Am was fine for one person but for two people for hours on end, it wasn’t big enough. Jade had a pretty, spacious Volvo for a rental, but there was no way in hell I was letting her drive again. I couldn’t risk it.

I’d tried to clean the car before Jade arrived. It’d been filled with shoes, a coat, a few half empty bottles of water, and more than a couple of empty drive-through bags. I spent a lot of time in my car on the weekend tracking vampires. I’d spent a good hour cleaning it, but every time I looked around, all I saw were the dirty pennies stuck in the cup holder, the straw wrapper that stuck out from underneath the passenger seat. I prayed that Jade hadn’t seen that yet. There was a smudge of dirt on the door I’d forgotten to clean up.

I’d flung a duffle bag I’d taken from a vampire one night a few months ago into the car. It had been filled with the vampire’s personal items, and I’d accidentally dropped it in a mud puddle before I got to the car. The smudges remained on the passenger side door as a reminder. My car’s upholstery was filthy but short of Stanley Steamer there was nothing I could do about that. Killing can be a dirty business. I sighed and tried to ignore the car.

Jade probably hadn’t even noticed but every time she moved, I jumped and thought of her shiny new BMW. It was a crumpled cube of metal at the scrap yard now, but I still remembered how pristine it was. My car wasn’t.

Jade and I had spent two whole days tracking down the white Chargers in Franklin and Delaware counties. I figured if the car wasn’t one of the 18 or so on the list in the immediate two counties then we could branch out from there. I was exhausted and running out of time. I had to go back to work in the morning.

“So, how many are left on the list,” I asked.

Jade glanced down at the phone lying in her lap. “Ah, after this one? Another five,” she said with a grimace.

Jesus, another five times to sit and wait. Wait for hours until someone comes out of the house to get in the car. We’ll never make it in time. On a few occasions we’d been lucky and the car had been parked outside. Neither car had visible damage to the body and it hadn’t been long enough to get the damage repaired. I was confident in saying that they weren’t the right car.

We’d been waiting across the street from this particular house for almost two hours. The place was dead. No activity inside or out that I could see.

The car was registered to Candace Capeloni. The house was a two story, built in the 1970’s on the North end of Columbus. It had the distinctive look of a split level. The second floor protruded out slightly from the first floor and the entire frame was a perfect square. The mustard-yellow vinyl siding was filthy and looked dismal. The yard was well kept but plain; no bushes or flowers around the perimeter, a cement walkway.

I needed to talk. I wasn’t usually the type to fill the silence with idle conversation but my mind was wandering to stupid shit, such as the cleanliness of my car.

“So, did you get your car situation straightened out?” I asked. Bitching about insurance companies could fill more than a few minutes. Right?

“Yeah, my dad’s sending me a new one,” she said flatly as she pulled the binoculars to her eyes again and scoped the street. I wasn’t sure what she was looking at. Nothing had moved in the last two hours. The curtains were drawn and the door shut. Nothing had happened at all.

“I’m sorry. What?” I managed to squeak out. She dropped the binoculars and turned to me. Confusion crinkled the corner of her eyes, marring her pretty face.

“What?” she asked, her bright green eyes watching me as if I was the crazy one.

“He’s sending you a new car?” I asked, turning fully toward her in my seat.

“Yeah.”

I shook my head slowly as I took in her pursed lips and the blank expression in her eyes. “Okay, well, normally, Dad’s don’t just send their children new cars,” I said.

She relaxed against the car door and a relieved expression softened her eyes. “Oh, well, my dad buys me things,” she said, a hint of shame to her voice as she avoided eye contact with me. “He lives in New York.” She brought the binoculars back to her eyes, then peered through them, avoiding eye contact with me. “I haven’t really seen him for, three years, four months and six days but who’s counting. When I was eleven, my mom and I moved back to Columbus to be near her family.” Her voice was soft but filled with regret. “I think he feels bad for not being around but doesn’t care enough to make an effort. So he buys things,” she added in a resigned voice, making her rich alto an unsure bass. “So, I get new cars, new computers, a condo here, a condo there.”

“Everywhere a con-do,” I sang in my best Old-McDonald-Had-a-Farm tone.

I finally understood why we’d clicked so quickly. It was like we’d shared the same pain. We both knew what it felt like to be abandoned. Although my parents had been present, I was no less abandoned than Jade when they turned me over for torture. It suddenly all made sense.

Jade peered through the binoculars to keep from meeting my eyes. I understood. It’s hard to look someone in the eye when they know your darkest secret. That’s why I don’t tell anyone ... ever.

“So why the Wiccan store?” I asked. I turned my head back toward the house like it was no big deal.

“Oh,” she said as a smile crept across her lips. “His secretary opens all my bills. She’s a Born Again Evangelical Christian. I like to get under her skin. It pisses my dad off when he has to sit through her lectures about me being born of the devil and all that nonsense.” Her smile turned devious, and I remembered why I liked her.

“That’s mean,” I said with an equally devious smile, “But I like it.”

“I’m going to hell for sure, but I can’t say that I care,” she added and finally looked at me with a twinkle of laughter shining in her bright green eyes. “As I understand it, my dad’s secretary already has my seat reserved.”

I smiled back.

Two quick honks of a horn from the inside of the attached garage caught my attention. Just like that, the atmosphere changed.

“Sounds like we’re on the move.” I turned the key and started the engine. The rough hitching sound of the garage door sliding open filled the brisk air of twilight in the calm and almost silent neighborhood. A white Charger pulled out from the garage with its headlights on, blinding both of us as it passed. I couldn’t make out if there was any damage to the front end as the lights glided over my face and filled my eyes. My eyes readjusted just in time to catch a glimpse of the driver.

“Well, hello,” I almost purred as the dark-haired woman who’d run us off the road peeled out of her driveway like a screeching banshee, squealing tires and shooting rocks from beneath her tires. Her taillights whipped around the corner, and I waited a few seconds before I pulled out behind her.

“You’ll lose her,” Jade said in a quick panic.

“I don’t want her to notice us.” I slipped the car into drive and turned the headlights on. Once the gleam of her tail lights were out of sight, I pulled out into the street, watching her headlights from between the houses as we drove around the bend.

We followed her out of the residential neighborhoods onto the highway where she let the turbo take over and began to pull away from us.

“We’re losing her,” Jade said again as she sat forward and clutched the dashboard, digging her manicured fingers into the dash.

“We’re not going to lose her,” I said with a roll of my eyes. This wasn’t my first rodeo, my first tail, or my first car chase for that matter. Her taillights were still in sight. She drove aggressively, but predictably. She was too far over on I-270 to make the off-ramp for Route 315 South. When I saw her make her move over toward the exit lanes, I’d catch up. The 270 bypass was too crowded for her to make a direct swerve over to any exit ramps.

She cruised past the exits at a speed of over 80 miles per hour. I weaved in and out of traffic behind her, keeping her in sight but staying far enough away that she wouldn’t be able to make us. She moved over one lane, then another. I hit the gas to keep up with her. She took the Sawmill exit off of I-270 and I followed a few cars behind. She turned off of Sawmill Road, a busy thoroughfare of six lanes, then headed down toward the river through a condo complex, one of many. The endless maze of town homes showed little personality and a lot of space. Each was three stories with an attached garage jutting out from the bottom floor, facing the streets.

The dark-haired woman behind the wheel whipped the car into a nondescript space in front of one of the condo garages. I drove past her slowly to the general parking at the end of the lane and waited. I could still see the car and the front door of the condo while being shielded from view by the foliage and shrubbery maintained by the property management. She didn’t get out.

“What’s she doing?” Jade asked as she pushed herself up off her seat until her head hit the roof of the car, trying to get a glimpse over the shrubs. I didn’t answer. “She’s not getting out?” Jade sounded confused. The sound of two quick honks of a horn made me jump. It was the same horn we’d heard from her garage.

The front door swung open and a familiar silhouette stepped out. He closed the door behind him and made his way to the waiting Charger. He was dressed in an old pair of worn jeans and a simple deep blue T-shirt that looked comfortable as it hugged his muscular body. The color brought out the soft russet blond of his hair. It was too cool outside for only a T-shirt and jeans, but Danny didn’t look cold.

“Hey, isn’t that?” Jade asked, straining her neck to see over the hedges in front of my car.

“Yeah, it is,” I said through tight lips and clenched teeth.

“Didn’t you go out with Danny a few days ago?” she asked.

“Yes,” I hissed. “I did.” I ground my teeth in anger. My pulse rose and pounded against my skull as rage consumed me, making me blind to everything else.

Danny got in the passenger side of the Charger and quickly strapped his seatbelt across his chest. He’d clearly ridden with her before.

I threw the gears into reverse and backed up in sync with her, slamming the brakes on to change gears. The car squealed in protest of my harsh treatment. I didn’t care.

She pulled away. I followed, close enough that if she’d looked in her rear-view mirror, she’d have been able to see the fire in my eyes. I didn’t care anymore if she knew she was being followed. She’d tried to kill me, she’d tried to kill Jade, and she had Danny in the car with her. Our date was all starting to seem like a set up. GOD DAMN IT!

I have something a vampire servant dropped, and a few nights later some bitch tries to run me off the road and almost kills my friend in the process. I didn’t even want to consider how Danny was involved.

I thought he wanted me.

I was so starved for attention that I didn’t want to notice. I’d believed the line he gave me.

Oh God, I’d walked right into it ... willingly.

She took a left onto Riverside Drive, along the Scioto River. Her back tires squealed as she made the turn. It became a two-lane road for a couple of miles, lined with estate-sized Tudor homes of pale stone on one side and the river on the other. Trapped by a sensible driver and oncoming traffic, she was forced to drive the speed limit.

“Where do you think she’s going?” Jade asked.

“Dunno,” I said curtly as I watched the Charger’s taillights from behind the SUV in front of us. “I’m not letting her out of my sight until I find out though.”

Riverside Drive morphed into a four-lane road, and the bitch hit the gas. I followed, pushing my Grand Am as hard as the 2.6 liter engine would allow. I had to keep up with her much more powerful 3.5 liter engine.

“Uh, Dahlia?” Jade asked, concern underlying her words.

The white Charger made a dangerous left across oncoming traffic onto a quiet residential street, leading up into old Upper Arlington. She passed the Scioto Country Club in a blur of white through old sycamore trees. The traffic light ahead of us turned yellow. I had five seconds.

I hit the gas.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

The light switched to red, and I raced through the intersection, making the turn as the screech of my tires cut out all the angry horns blaring from the obstructed oncoming traffic.

“OH MY GOD!” Jade screamed.

I caught a glimpse of Jade’s white-knuckled grip on the door and her scrunched up face as I took the turn. She squealed sharply as I straightened the car out. I hit the gas and followed the disappearing taillights up Waltham Avenue.

Old Upper Arlington was filled with stone-covered colonials, enormous Arts and Crafts homes, and beautiful oversized Tudors. The white Charger slowed up ahead, and I did the same, following one block over on a parallel street until I didn’t see the headlights at the matching stop sign.

I made the circle around the block and parked on the opposite side of the street, a few houses down. The Charger parked in the driveway of a soft yellow Arts and Crafts home with a beautiful front porch and a matching porch swing. The yard was well trimmed with purple zinnias lining the stone walk all the way up to the house. A mature maple stood in the yard facing the street, shading most of the front of the house from the afternoon sun. The place appeared homey, and something in me yearned to go inside. An unfamiliar voice whispered deep in my mind, warm ... safe ... home.

Danny got out of the car, looking like he wanted to kiss the ground. The driver stepped out of the car and slammed the door hard. She flailed her arms about as she talked. Shorter than I’d thought, she stood about 5’2” or 5’3 and could barely see over the roof of the car. She moved around the vehicle like a dancer, all grace with smooth, lithe movements. She walked on her toes and seemed light on her feet, a feat in and of itself considering her ass was enormous and twice the size of the rest of her body, which was slim and trim. She was shaped like a bottom heavy pear. Her dark hair fell in unruly curls, thick and heavy, down her back.

“Take down the address,” I ordered sharply as Danny stepped onto the porch and waited for the tiny bitch behind him to catch up. She ascended the four steps onto the porch and strode past him without a second glance. He stood patiently with his head bowed, staring at the planks of the porch, his hands clasped behind his back, and his shoulders tight. What an odd stance for a man I knew to be full of life. It made me hate her just a little bit more. Watching him, his stiff shoulders and bowed head made me feel like I should protect him from her. I was angry with him. Hell, I was angry with myself for wanting to protect him from anything.

“Got it,” Jade said, a pleased smile in her tone.

Candace strode in the front door without knocking and without hesitation. Danny followed without a word and closed the door.

“You wanna wait?” Jade asked, the first sign of trepidation in her voice.

“No,” I said flatly. I didn’t. I wanted to get the hell out of there and forget I’d ever met Danny. I also wanted to bitch slap Candace Capeloni and make her feel as bad as I did. My fingers started to ache as I gripped the steering wheel, twisting and turning my hand in painful knots around the wheel.

“You wanna get something to eat?” she asked hesitantly.

I could almost hear the shrug in her voice. I took a deep breath and released it in a long controlled sigh. I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to wipe out the image of Danny and that bitch together from my mind.

“Yeah, food would be good,” I said in concession.

“Fantastic, let’s get out of here before you do something stupid,” she said as she gave a slight tug on her seatbelt.

“Stupid? Like what?” I asked as I finally turned to her. She met my eyes with incredulous bewilderment.

“Stupid. Like waltzing up to that door and knocking on it. Stupid. Like waiting for them to come out and taking a swing at one of them. Stupid. Like storming in there when you have no idea what you’re walking into. We might be dealing with demon worshipers, remember.”

She was right.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said finally realizing that I’d been so close to doing just that. “Let’s get out of here.” I put the car in drive, then pulled away from the curb. “We definitely need more information before we do anything rash,” I said, almost to myself, and I knew just the place to get it.