people. The country club parties. The debutante balls. He had always wanted to be a part of that because he saw it as more than just upper-class frivolity. It was a celebration of men and women, generation after generation of them, who were raised to shape the world. Maybe they were a little smarter? Because their parents had been smart enough to build so much and they had kids as smart as them?
Or maybe not. Felix had known a lot of dumb rich kids.
But still, the expectation had been there. You were expected to accomplish something. Invent something or at least manufacture it and make payroll and support your employees and expand something. Expand everything.
But I didn’t. I didn’t do shit. And here I am, waving goodbye.
Shit.
Is that why Davette’s story had sunk so deep into him? Because it was about people ripping up the best of his past? The best of his memories?
Should I try to go in to see her now?
He had another drink. And another. He was drunk after the third and, well, the couch was right there.
And he didn’t want to think about it.
The bishop’s office staff at St. Lucius got very quiet when Felix walked in the next afternoon. There was another bishop there, filling in, who escorted Felix into the inner office and gave him the documents and tickets.
Then he asked what to do about the bodies.
Of Carl. Of the bishop. Of two of his aides. Everyone else on the bishop’s staff, it turned out, had run to the church during the attack, where they had been safe.
But what to do about the bodies?
Felix didn’t know enough to tell them. And he damn sure wasn’t going to go out to the Blazer and bring Cat in to explain.
“Call Rome,” he said.
“But what about your friend?” the bishop asked him. “I understand that his remains have already—”
“Call Rome,” Felix repeated, then left.
It was still only late afternoon when he drove them back to the hotel. And the sunshine was bright on the great glass building and maybe that’s what made it seem so like a prison.
Felix stopped the Blazer in front of the hotel entrance. The entrance to the connecting Galleria was less than one hundred yards away, with its shops and its people and… He realized he had cabin fever. Had it bad.
“Anybody want anything?” Felix asked them, suddenly.
Cat and Davette exchanged a smile.
“Sure,” he said.
“Let’s look,” she said.
And they all grinned and Felix let the hotel park the car and they went inside and through the lobby to the mall doors and by the time they got there they were almost trotting. The mall was full of people strolling up and down, children skipping and pointing, old couples sitting on benches with their sacks between their legs. The place was four stories high and four blocks long, with the stores stacked on either side of the Great Atrium, which ran the length of it all. Topping everything was a great curved multipaneled skylight.
Retail heaven.
They almost did some actual shopping. After a few moments Davette saw something in a window that she liked, a pair of brown shoes. She asked the men what they thought of them and Cat and Felix said they were pretty, why didn’t she buy them and she said she would.
But they just stood there, instead, looking into the window. Alter a few moments, they moved along down the mall toward the smell of food. Most of the restaurants were gathered in the center of the Great Atrium, on three stories overlooking a skating rink. There were steak houses and little bistros and Tex-Mex joints and Chinese food and two or three little bars.
They compromised on a bar that served food, finding a table that overlooked the skating rink.
And they sat down and had a drink and another drink and something to eat and watched the skaters and made comments about them. But they never talked about anything serious. Never. And they didn’t leave. And the sun slipped slowly away.
What are we trying to prove, Felix wondered, when he realized they were going to stay.
What are we trying to deny?
An hour and a half later, with the skylight black above them, they saw the vampire.
Or noticed him, rather, which was the part that got to Felix.
That and the goddamned unfairness of it all.
Because they had been looking at him for some time before they realized what it was, before Davette’s breath suddenly caught in her throat and the men looked at her, looked to where she was staring, at that same guy standing down there at that other bar…
And saw him. Really saw him for what he was.
It was a long, polished, curved wooden bar that skirted along the edge of the rink. Weary shoppers could pause, hop up on a stool, and grab a quick one without breaking stride. And then they might sit there a little longer, watching the skaters. And maybe have just one more drink before trying to find Uncle Stan’s birthday present. Maybe they would just stay until closing.
The vampire was at the far end of the bar to their left, standing there alone pretending to drink something clear on the rocks. A few feet to his right, sitting alone, was a young woman in her mid-twenties with long legs and auburn hair and a stack of shopping bags piled around her stool and no one to save her.
Because we’re the only ones who know, Felix thought bitterly. And we can’t do anything because it’s dark and…
And what?
The deception is what got to him. Just walking up and ordering something and spotting his prey and getting away with it. He could have sat down next to anyone — but us. Anyone could have sat down next to him.
Hell, I could go sit down next to him now!
And do what? Nothing. Die, maybe.
But I could do it. And he wouldn’t recognize me, either.
Felix didn’t know why that notion so intrigued him.
But then the hunt started and no one thought. They just watched.
It happened so fast. It happened so smoothly. Suddenly he was just there, closer to her. And they were talking. And then she was laughing and then she couldn’t take her eyes off him and Felix turned to see if Davette could watch this, knowing what she knew. But she stared just like the men.
And it Went on and on until Felix just couldn’t stand it any longer.
“Get the car,” he told them.
Cat looked at him. “What are you planning—”
“Just get the car. Bring it around to…” He looked around. “Bring it around to that entrance over there. What is that? The west side? And wait for me.”
“Felix,” Cat began again. “Tell us what you’re—”
“It won’t hurt to find out where he takes her,” was all he would say.
They left. Felix stayed. And watched.
When the new couple, master and slave, stood up from the bar, Felix checked his watch. Nine minutes. Nine lousy minutes between life and death. It was like watching a slow-motion traffic accident.
Felix paid the tab and trailed along behind them. It carried all half dozen of her shopping bags in one easy grip. The girl was on its other arm, smiling and looking hypnotized up to its face as they made their way to the exit.
They walked out the glass doors and to the edge of the sidewalk and waited there, talking, as if for a taxi. Felix meandered on around to one side toward the Blazer, parked several yards away.
He got in and told Cat, sitting behind the wheel, to pull away and around a line of parked cars before they got noticed. Cat obeyed. By the time he had steered them back around to where they could again see the couple, the limousine was there.
