The closest this kid had probably ever got to a real vampire was seeing some bad movie on a Sunday afternoon. She stared into the darkness, willing the ambulance to hurry up. The sooner it could arrive the sooner she could get back home, and back into bed. She doubted she would sleep at all, but at least she could lie down and close her eyes and pretend.
Something in her chest loosened up and she sagged against the side of the car. Suddenly she cared very little about this idiot Rexroth, or anything else keeping her away from her bed. How long had it been since she’d had a true night’s sleep? Even a fitful six hours she could call her own? She couldn’t even remember. There was too much in her head these days to let her ever truly relax.
“Trooper?” Glauer asked.
Her eyes snapped open. How long had they been closed? She didn’t know.
“What do you want me to do?” the police officer asked.
“His rights,” she told Glauer. “Read him his rights now. Then take him to the hospital. When they discharge him, take him to a holding cell somewhere. Process him and book him with the two homicides. With—Christ, whatever. With endangering a police officer. With whatever else you can think of.”
“A holding cell where?” he asked.
It was actually a good question. The SSU didn’t have any dedicated lockup facilities. She hadn’t considered they might ever need a cell of their own. “The local jail is fine. Coordinate with the locals—this can be their case, it’s outside our brief.”
He nodded, but he didn’t look satisfied.
“What?” she demanded.
“Don’t you want to interrogate him yourself?” he asked.
“Not right now.” She looked for her car, found it where she’d parked it when she arrived. Back when she thought she might be driving to her final showdown with Arkeley. What a joke. She started walking away.
“Hey,” he called, “aren’t you going to stick around?”
“No,” she said. “In four hours I need to get up and get dressed again. I’ve got a funeral to go to.”
Vampire Zero
Chapter 4.
The sun had turned the kitchen windows a shade of pale blue by the time she’d finished her breakfast and started getting dressed. Out back it touched the dark shape of the empty outbuildings behind the house. It lit up one wall of the shed where Deanna’s artwork used to hang, before she’d taken it down and folded it carefully and put it in a trunk in the crawl space, with the rest of Deanna’s things she hadn’t had the heart to throw out. It lit up the kennels, too—also empty. The last three dogs she’d boarded there, a trio of rescue greyhounds, had all moved on to better homes. She hadn’t had a chance to pick up any more dogs since, though there were plenty who needed her help.
The house felt cold and dark, even as the sun grew stronger. Laura knotted her tie on top of her white dress shirt and then pulled on her one pair of dress pants. She looked around for her black blazer and realized she’d left it in the bedroom closet.
She was about to go and get it when Clara came out of the bedroom already dressed in a modest black dress. Her silky black hair, cut just below the ears, was clean and shiny. Laura had worked hard at being quiet so she wouldn’t wake Clara up, but she must have been getting ready the whole time.
“Here,” Clara said, handing her the blazer. “We need to get moving. It’s at least an hour-?and-?a-?half drive. Longer if we’re picking up the Polders.”
Laura took a deep breath. “I said you didn’t have to come. You always hated him.”
Clara smiled warmly. Far more warmly than Laura deserved. “I did, and still do. But funerals are one of the few times I actually get to spend time with you, these days.”
Laura stepped closer to take the blazer, then pulled Clara into a deep hug. She didn’t know what to say. That she would try to change that, to spend more nights at home? She couldn’t make that promise. Clara was the one spark of light left to her. The only thing that felt good. She was losing her, and she knew it.
“Okay. Do you want anything to eat?”
“I’m fine for now,” Clara told her. “Do you want me to drive?”
Laura did.