I dropped the bag at the front desk and grabbed another. I found a few more potential weapons, but also picked up some books for pleasure reading, titles I had been meaning to read or reread for a while. Next, I pulled a crumpled piece of paper from my pocket.
“What’s that?” asked Lena.
“Plan B. I put the list together last night. I slipped the clerk a twenty to let me use his computer to access the Porter database.”
Lena simply smiled as she watched me fill yet another bag and carry it down to the counter, cradling it in both arms to keep it from splitting under the weight of the books. “You’re giddy. Almost postcoitally so.”
Fawn raised an eyebrow as she began adding up the total. “Save it for later, kids. I’ve already tossed out one teenager this week for getting too familiar with the old Playboys on the second floor. Though what anyone wants with old airbrushed magazines when they have their Internet and their smart phones and everything else, I can’t imagine.”
Once she finished swiping my credit card, Fawn limped out from behind the desk, leaning heavily on an aluminum cane. Her arthritis was worse than I remembered. Each step obviously pained her, though she did her best to hide it. She gave me a quick hug with her free arm. “You come back soon, Isaac. We can’t afford to go another two years without your money.”
“I will. Tell Kevin I said hi, and I’ll catch him next time.” I scratched Brillo behind the ears and headed out to the car, my mood darkening with each step.
“What’s wrong?” Lena asked.
“Fawn’s a good person.” I laid my coat out on the trunk and emptied the pockets. “She’s had two knee surgeries and a hip replacement that I know of, and she’s still hurting. I could fix that. One sip from Lucy’s Narnian cordial, or the healing swords from Saberhagen or Lackey… we’ve cataloged more than a hundred books we use for magical healing.”
“So why not help her?”
“Part of the Porters’ mission is to conceal magic’s existence from the world,” I said flatly. “If I heal Fawn Shamel, where do I stop? Who decides who does and doesn’t deserve relief? The books would char and rip open long before we could help everyone, and the magical chaos leaking through those books would create more damage than we’d fixed.”
“That’s bullshit,” Lena said flatly. “You can’t heal everyone, so don’t help anyone at all?”
I snapped a rubber band around a role-playing game tie-in, then picked up the next. “I know, I know. I’ve been over it again and again with Ray, with Pallas, even with Doctor Shah.”
“Would anyone know if you snuck back inside and slipped a drop of Lucy’s potion into her drink?”
“Probably not,” I admitted. “And every one of us can start making exceptions for the people we care about, until sooner or later our secret escapes, and the world goes crazy.”
“Crazier, you mean?”
I sighed and turned back to the piles of new books. There was no way I was fitting even a fraction of those into my jacket. It was time for a wardrobe upgrade. I opened up an old paperback and pulled out a long, brown coat.
“What is it with you and brown jackets?” Lena asked.
“There were two reasons I wanted that jacket,” I said as I slipped the new one on. It was a little long, but not horribly so. “Doctor Who-the tenth doctor, specifically-was one of those reasons.”
“And the other?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Firefly?” I shook my head. “You and I have work to do when this is all over.”
Lena watched as I shoved book after book into my pockets. “Maybe the Porters are just worried about protecting their own. Helping others is a good thing, but not if you destroy yourself in the process. Look at how much you’ve pushed yourself over the past two days, magically. How much more can you take?”
“I’m all right. Sleep helped.” Once I had finally gotten to sleep, at least. I had checked my vitals this morning. My resting heart rate was running about a hundred beats per minute. My temp was ninety-nine point eight. Definitely elevated, but not in the danger zone yet. I was jumpy and having a hard time holding still, but some of that could also be the result of kissing Lena.
“So what’s to stop these vampires from simply killing us on sight?” she asked.
I pulled out a battered copy of The Road to Oz and gave her a mischievous grin. “I’m just too darn lovable.”
Morning traffic meant it took close to an hour to reach the one entrance to the Detroit nest I knew about. “You know what I like about Copper River?” I said through gritted teeth as we jolted to a halt yet again. “Up north, rush hour means two cars stopped at the same intersection.”
I checked the mirrors and darted into the right turn lane, gunning the engine to make the light. Our destination was a few blocks back from the main roads, about a mile or so from the Detroit River. I pulled into a small corner parking lot. A colorful, hand-painted sign on the side of the converted house read, Dolingen Daycare. Cartoon animals frolicked around the bubble letters of the sign.
“Tell me this isn’t a vampire daycare,” Lena said.
“Vampires tend to be a little paranoid.” I clipped Smudge’s cage to my belt loop. He was nervous, but wasn’t openly flaming yet. I also checked my jeans pocket, feeling the reassuring weight of a small bit of horseshoe-shaped metal, wrapped in crumpled paper knotted shut with string. “They build their lairs for defense, and the daycare is part of that defense. It covers one of the only ways into their nest. If the Porters were to attack, or even if normal humans got wind of them and showed up with torches and pitchforks, this place gives them a guaranteed supply of young, innocent hostages during the daytime, when many vampire species are at their weakest.”
Lena grabbed her bokken out of the back and shoved them through her belt. She had replaced the one she lost in the MSU library, and the new weapon smelled strongly of pine.
The daycare was built on a small lot with a cedar fence walling off the backyard. Several thick birch trees shaded the building. Construction paper animals decorated the open window on the side, and I could hear other children playing within.
The door opened before we could knock, and a friendly-looking fellow stepped out to greet us. He looked to be in his late thirties, with black hair and a face that could have belonged to the love child of Jon Hamm and Keanu Reeves.
“Nice place,” I commented. “Doesn’t Michigan have disclosure laws requiring you to tell parents that this place is run by soulless monsters?”
He tilted his head, studying the two of us in turn. “You’re calling us soulless? You’ve obviously never met an elf.”
“Isaac Vainio,” I said cheerfully, reaching out to shake his hand.
Lena tensed, but the vampire merely smiled and grasped my hand in his. “Kyle Forrester. Soulless monster and manager at Dolingen Daycare. How can I help you?”
“Your people asked to see me,” I said. “They’ve sent several invitations, so I’m assuming it must be urgent.”
“Everything always is.” He stepped back, beckoning us through the door. “I thought immortality would teach people patience. Instead, you end up with vampires rushing about at superhuman speeds, even more stressed out than before they died.” Somewhere in the house, a little boy started crying, the sound swiftly climbing to an ear- piercing scream. Kyle gave me an apologetic smile. “I’ll be right back.”
Lena gave me a skeptical look as we followed him inside. I patted my pocket. “Love magnet, courtesy of L. Frank Baum. Its magic will burn out eventually, but it should make things go a little faster.”
Lena pulled me close. “I get that you like to show off, but next time, a heads-up about your plan would be appreciated, okay?”
“Sorry.” At first glance, the daycare center appeared completely normal. The ceiling tiles had all been painted, resulting in a chaotic mix of colors and scribbling. Posters about safety and respect and manners hung from the walls. The linoleum floor smelled like lemon cleaner, and I picked up the salty aroma of stale Play-Doh as well.
I also counted three security cameras, not including the one we had passed beneath the eaves on the porch.
