Chapter 32
32
OLIVIA
“Y ou’ve got to be kidding me,” I burst out.
Ever come across someone you can tell just hates their job—a worker who seems all too eager to deliver bad news simply because they derive sick pleasure from sapping joy from others who are not on the clock?
Example #1, Barista: Sorry-not-sorry, weary traveler. I can see that you’ve been driving for the better part of the night, and there’s a high possibility that you might fall asleep behind the wheel without a caffeine intervention. But . . . I’ve already cleaned the espresso machine. So, we are no longer serving coffee. And by “we,” I mean me. I could offer you an alternative, but that would require going above and beyond my job duties, and we both know it will be raining biscotti in Rome before that happens .
Example #2, Gas Station Attendant: I’m guessing you could really use a toilet and some privacy right now, as you’re death-gripping a tampon and bleeding through your jeans as if your crotch has been involved in an unfortunate industrial accident. But read the sign. NO PUBLIC RESTROOMS! You and your hemorrhaging lady parts can hit the road!
Yep, the guy behind the check-in counter was one of those. Except his version of hostility was preventing me from getting on a plane. I was getting nowhere fast with him. Some deep, rational part of my brain knew that it was futile to keep arguing, but my stubbornness kept me going.
“Are you positive you can’t let me through? Please?” I begged. “I don’t look dangerous, now do I?” I flashed the sourpuss my brightest smile.
He blinked at me with zero emotion, the fucking robot. “It’s against federal regulations to let passengers on an airplane without any identification, Ms. Taylor. So, even if I wanted to risk my job and let you check in—” he folded his arms across his chest to show how much he didn’t want to “—you wouldn’t be able to make it through security without proper identification.”
“But I’ve paid for the ticket! That’s got to count for something, right?” I could practically hear him thinking: Sure, it counts for you being a complete idiot.
I couldn’t believe that I’d committed such a rookie mistake. I’d packed enough crap to tide me over in Florida until I was ninety, but I’d forgotten the one damn thing that granted access to the flight. What killed me was that I knew exactly where my driver’s license was. It was in the tiny evening bag I’d used when I’d decoyed for Jerry, which I hadn’t packed because I had no plans of going out on the town while in Pelville. Worse, I’d been hanging out at the airport all day waiting for the flight check-in to open. Had I realized that I didn’t have my ID sooner, I could have fetched it hours ago.
“You’re early for your flight. If you hurried home and came right back, you might still be able to make it,” the agent droned, though I could tell he didn’t believe what he was saying. He only wanted to get me out of his hair. He waved forward the next person in line, dismissing me.
I made a show of tugging the handle up on my suitcase. “Thanks for nothing.”
What do I do now? I thought miserably.
Well, there wasn’t much I could do. Everything required identification these days. I had to get a taxi, go home, get my driver’s license, and come back. Sourpuss could doubt me all he wanted; I would make it. I had to.
I’d promised the taxi driver a hefty tip if he put the pedal to the metal, and he didn’t fail me with his NASCAR-esque driving skills. “I’ll be right back,” I hollered when we pulled up at my place. I bounded up to the apartment like my feet had wings.
Once inside, I was stunned to see a familiar face. “Oh, hello. We’ve been looking for you.”
“Carl? What are you doing here . . . inside my apartment?” Given the way I’d left things with Robert, I probably should have been scared, since his driver had no business being there. But Carl being as nonchalant as he was, I was more confused than anything else.
From behind Carl, stepped Robert. I couldn’t deny that I was glad to see him, as much as I didn’t want to be. I nearly ran into his arms, but then I spotted a woman standing nearby. What the hell was going on?
“It’s me, Olivia.”
My knees buckled when the female stepped into the light. Carl was close enough to catch me, or else I would have cracked my skull on the ceramic floor tiles. He eased me down onto the sofa and turned on the lamp.
“Liz?” I gasped. “How?
“So, I’m dead, but not dead- dead,” she said with a wry smile.
Was I hallucinating? Having a nervous breakdown? I had so many questions hammering my brain, yet the first thing I could think to say was, “There’s a taxi outside with the meter running.”
Carl went outside to handle it.
Liz sat down next to me. Her movements were fluid, like Robert’s. I reached over and poked her pointy incisor with the tip of my finger. “Are you . . .?”
She nodded. “Sorry about the fangs. I don’t know how to control them yet.”
Stunned, I gaped at Robert.
“No, I didn’t turn her. We don’t know who did or why. Liz was attacked in the dark.”
“They were trying to kill me, not turn me. They bit, then I bit them back. Guess I swallowed enough of their blood to make me a vampire,” she explained with a shrug.
“Do you think this was done because of me?” I asked Robert.
“Why would you say that?” he said.
“There's no reason for any vampire to want to hurt Liz. Maybe they thought they were killing me, but it was Liz who Carl dropped off that night.”
Robert considered this. “It's possible. But I find it hard to believe a vampire would make that mistake. You two look nothing alike.”
“Okay, well maybe some crazy vampire didn’t like the idea of a decoy having a human best friend. Maybe they thought I’d eventually tell Liz what I do, with us being so close. Say I actually was being stalked, and when they weren’t convinced I wasn’t blabbing about vampires, they killed Liz.” I paused and tried to make sense of the thoughts racing through my mind. “This would also explain what happened to the other Dignitary decoys who disappeared; the killer went after the those they thought would give away their secret.”
“It’s certainly plausible.” Robert said. “But, what, they’ve changed course—instead of ‘disappearing’ decoys, they’re now killing their best friends?”
I shrugged. “Well, they’re crazy, so they’d be illogical. Or maybe they felt what they had done to decoys in the past was taking things too far, and so now they’re killing off those closest to us. You guys need decoys, but our human best friends have no direct benefit to vampires. If anything, they could be seen as a liability. I mean, it makes sense. I start working for vampires and then Liz is attacked by one. The coincidence is too great for this to be a random attack.”
“You do have a point. In any case, I doubt the attacker intended to turn Liz. We don’t know what they’ll do once they find out the mistake they made. They may reach out to Liz as a maker. If they do, I’ll be ready,” Robert said menacingly.
“If this is because of me, I so sorry, Liz!” I said, breaking into sobs. “Had I known you were going to be hurt, I never, ever, would have started working for vampires.”
“I honestly don’t know what you two are taking about, or even what the hell a decoy is. As far as I’m concerned, the only person—vampire—to blame here is the one who attached me,” Liz said, unfazed. She placed her cold hand over mine. “But I do know it wasn’t Robert, Olivia. He told me earlier how pissed you were at him, but he was telling you the truth about me going over to his place to give him advice. I’m sorry that I went behind your back. I was only trying to help, but I can see how it looked bad.” She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers. “I forgot my ring after washing my hands is all.”
“Who cares about all that now!” I cried, throwing my arms around her. “I’m so happy you’re alive . . . not fully dead. You know what I mean!”
Liz chuckled morbidly. “I woke up in the morgue. I nearly bit the medical examiner, but I got scared and took off when she started screaming her head off.”
“I sent an associate to pay her off. For her silence and misplacement of certain paperwork,” Robert said. “She was eager to destroy Liz’s file regardless. I imagine it’s rather embarrassing for someone in her profession to lose a body.”
Liz said, “And who would believe her, anyway, if she were to tell the truth? A body rose from the dead and tried to attack her? They’d think she’d lost the plot.”
I asked, “But what about the police and David? Everyone thinks Liz was murdered.”
Robert shrugged. “This is San Francisco, Olivia. The police have enough murders on their hands to deal with. And the persistent officers can always be bought like the medical examiner.” He didn’t add that they could also be killed by less principled vampires who would rather silence them forever than deal with bribing a human.
“And David?”
“I called him,” Liz said. “He’s on his way over here now. He doesn’t know that I’ve turned vampire. He was shocked enough to find out that I was still alive. Alive- ish . We thought it would be better to tell him in person.”
“What about your parents?” I asked. “Don’t they think you’re dead?”
She shook her head. “The police haven’t gotten in touch with them yet, with them being overseas. I already called them with a cover story about mistaken identity. I told them they should ignore all calls from the police.”
“How long have you been here?” I asked Liz.
“Not long. Thankfully, Robert and Carl showed up, or else I don’t know what I would have done.”
“I came here looking for you, Olivia,” Robert said. “I would have come sooner, but I had to wait for the sun to set.”
“I’m sorry that I accused you of being a killer,” I told him.
He shook his head, smiled. “It’s in the past. Let’s focus on our future.”
Blubbering harder, I squeezed my arms tightly around Liz again, almost expecting her to dissolve into thin air. Robert came over and sat at my other side, and suddenly I was being gently rocked in four vampire arms. Liz assured me that she was okay, that we’d figure everything out. She was kindhearted like that. It was ridiculous, her comforting me, when she was the one who’d been murdered and awakened in the morgue as a vampire.
I sat back and studied my best friend’s gorgeous face, which looked like a painting come to life. She looked different but also the same in a vague sort of way, like a sister or cousin of her former self.
She raised her eyebrows. “What is it?”
“This new hairstyle,” I blurted. “It suits you.”