Far as I know, there's only one creature with eyes that show red in response to light. Not cat or deer or raccoon or fox – nothing in the natural world.
Vampire.
But even without the red reflection, I'd have known what she was.
I parked in the right half of the two-car garage. It had come with the house – a big, weathered Cape that had been just about the right size when my family and I had lived there. But I live alone now, and the place has more space than I need. A lot more. I've thought about selling, but I've lived there a long time, and I'm used to the house and its ghosts.
The front porch has three concrete steps leading up to it, and the vampire was sitting on the bottom one. I eased myself down next to her.
We sat there in silence for a while, until she asked, 'Aren't you going to invite me in?'
'I… you know I can't do that.'
Her shoulders twitched in what I assumed was a shrug. 'Just checking.'
We sat there some more, letting the silence grow between us. Then she said, 'Damn, I wish I still smoked. It would give me something to do at times like this.'
'Guess there's no reason why you can't take it up again, if you want to.'
She made a sound that in a human might have been laughter. 'Yeah, lung cancer isn't much of an issue any more, is it?' She shook her head gently. 'No, no more tobacco for me. There's only one thing that I crave now.'
There was nothing for me to say about that. The quiet settled back down over us, like a shroud. Finally, I said, 'So, to what do I owe the-'
'Pleasure? Is that what it is?'
'Sure. You know I'm always glad to see you.'
'And yet you won't invite me inside.'
I decided to let that go. We'd covered this ground before, and it led exactly nowhere.
After a while, she said, 'There's somebody new in town, killing vampires.'
I didn't bother to ask how she knew. 'Yeah, two so far. That we know of. And maybe one in Wilkes-Barre. I'm checking that out tomorrow – later today, I mean.'
Her voice was bitter when she said, 'Have you given him a medal yet?'
'I do my fucking job!' I snapped. 'I'm a professional. If somebody's committing murders, he's breaking the law. And when I find him, and I will find him, he's going down. Period.'
She nodded slowly. In a normal tone she said, 'Yeah, that's what I told them.'
'Told who?'
'Some people I know. There's been a lot of talk in the local community-'
'You mean the vamp, uh, vampire community.'
'That's the only one I hang with, these days. Some of them are saying that you're giving this guy, the killer, a free pass because he's hunting vamps. Your feelings about us aren't exactly a secret.'
'Listen, I just told you-'
'I know you did.' She placed her hand on my wrist for a moment, and I made myself not pull away. But her touch was cold, so cold. 'And I said the same thin, myself.'
'Thanks for the endorsement,' I said. 'And you're telling me about this because…'
'Because some of them are saying they should deal with this themselves. Find the killer themselves. And dispense justice themselves.'
'That would be about the worst thing they could do, for a whole bunch of reasons. Vigilante is just another word for murderer, as far as the law's concerned.'
'I know.' It must be hard to sigh when you don't need to breathe, but she managed it. 'I said that, too.'
'And did they listen?'
'I think so. For now. But if these murders continue, with no arrest, people are going to start paying attention to the hotheads.'
'I don't think Vollman would like that too much.'
She didn't react to the name the way the vamp in Susie B's had, but I'm pretty sure I saw her back straighten a little.
'You know Mr Vollman?'
'He's helping us with the case. And, far as I know, he doesn't think I'm slacking off.'
'I'll be sure to pass that along.'
I noticed her shoulders were shaking slightly. 'What?'
'You and Mr Vollman – working together. You must love that!' She sounded genuinely amused. I guess it was kind of funny, at that.
'Well, since you know so much already, you might as well know this: I don't think the killer's a Van Helsing.'
'Really? What, then?'
'Some kind of wizard, looks like. He's got his hands on a copy of something called the Opus Mago, which is supposed to be the Holy Grail of grimoires.'
'I think I sense an oxymoron in there someplace.'
'You know what I mean.'
'Yeah, I do. So this book is supposed to be highoctane evil.'
'Exactly. And it looks like the two dead vamps, uh, vampires are the first couple of ingredients for some kind of spell he's working.'
'Holy fuck.'
'I think I sense some kind of oxymoron in there.'
'Yeah, and fuck you, too,' she said, but without any heat behind it. 'Must be one hell of a conjuring he's got going – and that's not a fucking oxymoron.'
'No,' I said, as a ball of ice formed in my stomach – the same one that showed up every time I thought about what this wizard might have in mind. 'No, it's not.'
'Two dead, so far – and vampires, at that.'
'Two, maybe three. I'll know that later today, probably.'
'Maybe three.' She nodded slowly. 'What do you figure his magic number is, so to speak?'
'That's something Vollman is trying to find out,' I said. 'I hope he does it pretty damn soon.'
I checked my watch. 'Not to rush you, or anything, but the sun'll be up in-'
'Seventeen minutes. Plenty of time.'
But she stood up anyway, stretching a little.
'Where are you crashing these days? Someplace close by?'
She turned to look at me. 'I'll tell you that,' she said, 'the first time you invite me inside.'
I nodded, letting nothing of what I was feeling show on my face. Or so I hoped.
I stood up, too. I wanted to put my arms around her and hold her close, just for a couple of seconds. Instead, I just nodded and said, ''Night, Christine.'
'Goodnight, Daddy.'
And she was gone.
Driving through downtown Wilkes-Barre, you'd never know the place had been practically underwater for several days, back in 1972. That's when Hurricane Agnes passed through the Wyoming Valley. Worst storm we've ever seen, and it sent the Susquehanna River over its banks and into the city. I was just a kid then, and Scranton wasn't affected by the flood, but I remember the TV and newspaper pictures of the huge mess it made.
One of the grisliest forms of damage occurred when the flood reached the local cemeteries. It washed some of the dead out of their graves and then deposited them all over town, once the water receded. Corpses, some long dead and others more recent, were found on people's lawns, in the middle of streets, just everywhere.
I understand the local ghoul community still talks about those days among themselves. They refer to it as the Great Smorgasbord.
Thinking about stuff like that helped keep my mind off the fact that we might have a third murder in this spell
