La Vida Vampire

I scanned my surroundings. We stood at the intersection of St. George and Hypolita. In the iron-gated park to my left— nothing. At the pub up the block, three men smoked in the doorway. A tour train idled at the stop sign. In the Columbia Restaurant courtyard to my right, a man with dreadlocks played the flute. Late for a street performer to be out, but not unheard of. Wait. The tour train didn’t fit. Both companies quit running by five every evening, unless perhaps it was a special tour. But only the driver was on board.

I peered at his fiftyish, careworn face and the shaggy gray hair peppered with blue black strands. He met my gaze with an intensity that gave me goose bumps, then shifted gears and drove on through the intersection. When the last car passed, Cat—giant Cat—sat by a bollard on the other side of St. George Street as if it had hopped off the train.

“Oh, so it’s you,” I muttered.

“Rrryyyow,” Cat answered, tail whipping side to side.

“Shit,” Saber swore. “That’s the biggest damn cat I’ve ever seen. Must need a hell of a litter box.”

Cat gave Saber a long, unfriendly look, snorted, and rose to trot south on St. George as if leading the way home. I rubbed my temples and followed.

“You act like you have a headache,” Saber commented.

“I think I do.”

“Vampires don’t get diseases, they don’t get sick, and they sure as hell don’t get headaches.”

“See, that’s your problem, Saber. You see me only as a vampire. I’m also female, and we can get headaches any time we darn well please.”

Did I screech the end of that statement juuust a little? Tough. He was jumping on my last frayed nerve. I glanced at my Timex with the illuminated dial feature I didn ’t need. Four more blocks to walk. If I hurried, I could catch Night Court. I’d feel much better then.

“Why do you wear a nightglow watch? You can’t have bad eyesight.”

“My sponsor gave it to me,” I said and picked up my pace.

“Right, Maggie.” He strode beside me in blessed silence for a minute. “I read Detective March’s interview with Neil Benson.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He calls you Fresca?”

“Sometimes.”

At Treasury Street, Cat veered left, and so did Saber. Since I was on his left, he plowed smack into me. He reached to steady himself or me, I wasn’t sure which. His arms tightened around me, his body brushed mine, and, big, big, uh-oh. Besides feeling his gun pressing into my hip, a lower part of him stirred. Damn it. I soooo didn’t need this. A distant, vague attraction I could deal with. My erogenous zones doing the happy dance? No. Oh, definitely no. Not when I was a science experiment to the guy.

“What are you doing?” I said, aiming for haughty instead of hot-to-trot.

“Following your cat.”

“She’s not mine. If she were, I’d have sicced her on you. You wanna let go now?”

He gave me a wicked grin but stepped away. I continued down St. George Street without another word.

“Wait. You’re walking past the cathedral?” he asked with a smidgen of concern as he leapt to catch up again. Cat did, too, prancing out in front of us.

“Why not? You think I’ll burst into flames?” I heaved a purposely dramatic sigh. “For a preternatural crimes expert, you have an awfully narrow view of preternatural people.”

“You’re not a typical vampire.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“By Mick?”

“No, by Neil.”

“You have a thing going with him?”

“Yuck, no. He’s Maggie’s man.” I turned left on Cathedral Place into a face full of wind and the tangy smell of the bay. Only a half block to home.

“What is your relationship with Neil?”

“We surf sometimes, and we get along for Maggie’s sake.”

“You surfing tomorrow morning?”

“Duh. No. Detective March has my board. And I have to work with the sketch artist at eight.”

“What are you doing the rest of tonight?”

“Taking my design course online, reading, maybe watching a movie.” I needed to chill out, for sure.

“What about tomorrow night?”

“I’m taking dance lessons. The salsa, since I know you’re going to ask.”

“You sound like you plan every second of your life.”

I shrugged. “I like knowing what to expect every day.”

“What else do you do on your nights off?”

“Play bridge. Take classes. Shop at Wal-Mart.”

“Wal-Mart?” From the corner of my eye, I saw him shake his head. “Like I said, you’re not a typical vampire.”

Cat trotted right past my door tonight. I stopped, and she let out a low rrryyyow. I paid no attention because, yippyskippy, I could ditch Saber now.

“Fun as this has not been,” I said, pulling my key from my pocket, “twenty questions time is up. I hope you find Stony or whoever killed Yolette.”

“Rrryyyow,” Cat growled louder and leapt back to pounce on the hem of my cloak.

“Is this a kiss-off?”

“You’re the investigator. Draw your own conclusions.”

Still growling, Cat bit my cloak and pulled hard. Off balance, I stumbled a few steps. Fortunately, not into Saber. Cat spat the material out, turned toward the bay again, stopped, and looked over her shoulder. I had the insane urge to say, “What is it, Lassie?”

Saber more or less did. “I’d swear that animal wants you to follow her.”