Ripley looked at her, then back to the road. She was driving without headlights, but she probably had better night vision than even Orchid. Besides, there was little chance of losing the road. They were coming in just south of Cincinnati, and the chiseled walls of the foothills rose high to either side. “How?” the woman asked.
Trisk looked back at Daniel with a feeling of guilt. “Humans aren’t stupid because they haven’t figured out we live beside them,” she whispered. “We’re just good at blending in. But when everyone around you starts dying, you find out why those who survived made it.”
Ripley’s small hands gripped the wheel tighter. “You think the silence is cracking?”
Feeling as if it was, Trisk shrugged.
Orchid stood and stretched, her tiny form silhouetted against the last of the stars. “I wouldn’t mind coming out. I might be able to find a husband, then. Take out an ad in the paper. Single female pixy looking for like-minded buck to start a family.” She snorted as she opened a little bag made of a gum wrapper and used her chopsticks to eat what looked like chocolate frosting. “I’ve only got a few years left to have kids,” she said around a lick. “I really want kids. Lots of them. Maybe twenty.”
Trisk’s hand went to her middle. She didn’t know what to say. Either way, she was never going to work in a lab again. This is so backward and unfair.
“Smell that?” Orchid said as she spun to the front window.
“Chili and chocolate?” Ripley said with a smile. “We’re almost there.”
“No.” Orchid’s wings hummed to invisibility. “Vampire.”
The word hung for two heartbeats as Ripley followed the road around a wide turn, gasping and stomping on the brakes when she saw two cars blocking their way, the cars’ headlights bathing each other in a bright glow the curve had hidden.
“Holy pixy piss!” Orchid shrilled, and Trisk grabbed the back of the seats as the van squealed to a stop. Takata slid to the floor, his long arms and legs in a tangle.
“Are we there?” the kid said from the footwell, his eyes wide and suddenly very awake.
“Hold on!” Her arm going across the passenger seat, Ripley turned to look behind them as she jerked the van into reverse.
But it was too late, and two more black cars slid into place, trapping them.
“Goddamn son of a bitch!” the petite woman swore, her high voice making it sound almost beautiful. “I am not going to jail!” she added, hitting the dash hard.
Takata slumped in his seat, long legs cramped. “My mom is going to kill me.”
Trisk shifted to make room for Daniel as he came up beside her, rubbing his stubble and yawning. “A roadblock? Swell.” Sighing, he tucked his shirt into his pants. “Good morning.”
“Is it?” Trisk said, wincing as Ripley slammed the van into park and swore some more.
“God, Ripley. Take it easy,” Takata said. “What are they going to do? We live here.”
The small woman crossed her arms over her chest and fumed. “I’m not a minor, Donald.”
Donald? Trisk thought, deciding Takata must be his stage name. “Turn your lights on,” she whispered, wanting a better look at the two men standing expectantly before the waiting cars.
Mood sour, Ripley did so, and the two men flinched in the one-headlight glare. The other light was still in Chicago with the van’s fender.
Her hand on the gun in her jacket pocket, Trisk looked at the two vampires, quiet and oddly passive in the middle of the road. The taller one was clean-shaven, wearing a trim suit, white shirt, and black tie, his dress shoes scuffing on the smooth pavement as he checked his watch and squinted. The other was in jeans and a tunic, a beaded belt holding it tight around his narrow, almost gaunt waist. His long hair was unbound, and he was barefoot despite the morning chill. As differently as they were dressed, they both had a sublimely confident air about them.
Trisk slumped. Vampires. Why is it always vampires? Unhappy, she looked at Kal, then Daniel, but when her gaze fell upon Takata, she took her hand off the gun. He was just a kid. If she used a gun, they’d use a gun. “Open the door,” she whispered.
“What?” Orchid shrilled, giving voice to everyone’s surprise.
“We can’t get past the cliffs,” Trisk said in resignation. “Let’s find out what they want. Bluff it out, maybe, but we can’t fight that. Open the door.”
Shoulders tense, Daniel stepped over Kal and opened the wide sliding door. Cool night air slipped in, refreshing and clean and sounding of crickets. Lips pressed tight, Trisk shook the cartridges out of the handgun, checked it again, then threw the unloaded weapon out the door to skitter on the black pavement.
“Dudette, you think that’s smart?” Takata asked.
“What are you doing?” Daniel questioned as she dropped the bullets in the van’s console.
“Trying to minimize an ugly situation. You see any humans?” she said, pointing. “If we use a gun, they’ll use a gun, and we’ll lose. With magic, we’ve got a chance. If the gun is out there, no one in here is going to make the mistake of using it.”