Marty started down the stairs. William grabbed my arm. I dropped my duffle bag. “No, Abby. You stay with me.”
“Let me go!”
He grabbed my hair and wrapped it around his fist and he bit me, his teeth piercing my neck. There’s supposed to be some narcotic effect, but it just hurt.
“You…vampire!” I elbowed him in the stomach. Air wheezed out of William and he doubled over. I shot out the door and flowed down the stairs. Marty was facing down Housekeeper Renfield in the kitchen, who watched her, folding towels. Marty had a deer in the headlights kind of look.
Blood trickled down my neck and itched like crazy. William was hot on my heels. I reached in my backpack and took out the XP-215, and arced a couple of streams of religious vengeance in William’s direction.
“Grab her, Florence!”
Florence, the Renfield, grabbed me around the waist with her powerful arms. Serving the undead can make you pretty tough. I kicked at her, but she was like a brickwall. Marty backed away.
“Downstairs,” William said, using his echoey vampire voice. Marty opened the door just enough and slipped into the basement.
William walked forward. I expect his nibble on my neck was what was making him look a little fangy. “You’re mine now,” said William.
“What’s your problem, William? Coral would never do this because Larissa told her to.”
“Coral is broken. I like being a vampire.”
Great. He probably pulled the wings off fireflies when he was little. Now I was the firefly.
I had one more idea. Chances were, Larissa had a plan. Vampires in charge were more obsessive than the usual ones. I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Larissa!”
One look from William and a large hand smelling like Pine-Sol clamped over my mouth. Florence tilted my head to the side, and William took a loving look at my tender human flesh, which is so creepy in the movies. Believe me, it’s much creepier in real life. His mouth plunged.
Then he was bodychecked. Larissa knocked him aside and he pounded into the linoleum. Coral’s head peeked through a crack in the basement door. One look from Larissa and she went back down.
“What did I tell you?” Larissa studied me, but she was talking to William.
“You said I could have her!”
“I said after.”
“No,” he said. “I want her to be mine, not his.”
“William, if you want me to destroy you, just keep this up.”
That was probably an underused parental threat. William shut up and sulked by the counter.
She turned her attention to me. “Now, little girl, your father killed my sister. I’ve killed his wife. I want you to live, to remind your father of how he failed you.” She nodded at Florence, who removed her hand.
“My father is going to save me!” I said.
“Oh, he’ll be much too late for that,” she said. “Maybe you will kill your father for me?”
I tried to wriggle out of Florence’s grip, but she squeezed tighter like an anaconda. William helped truss me up like a turkey with clothesline nylon, and then William disappeared downstairs. Florence flung me over her shoulder like a sack of laundry and they carried me to another part of the house. I did not make it easy on them at all, until Larissa slapped me a couple of times to keep me quiet. I didn’t pass out, but I was going to have a black eye and some awful bruises.
I’d like to say I was defiant and I spit at them, but I was horrified. When they started tying me up, I started shouting. That’s when they stuffed my mouth with a tea towel and cinched open my jaw with another one. That really hurt. The nylon rope was too tight around my ankles.
When we got to the room where they were stashing me, Larissa stood by while Florence cut the clothesline to bits. I spat out the dishtowel and coughed.
“Ned,” said Larissa. “Dinner.”
They closed and locked the door behind them.
I looked around me. The room had been used for bad stuff. There were some scary stains on the carpet, and some broken furniture. An old exercise bike sat against one wall by a stack of dead bean bag chairs. A dim light made creepy shadows on the walls. I creaked upright and turned around. From behind a shabby couch, the arms of which looked like they had been shredded by long nails or claws came whimpering.
I wasn’t in the room alone. Backing away from the couch, I shuddered and blinked away tears. I had to keep my head. I had to be ready for any opportunity.
“Abby?” My name, somewhere half between a growl and a human voice. Red eyes glared at me over the top of the couch. Ned, ghoulish, suffering from more damage and the silver still inside of him. All his instincts would tell him my blood was the best way for him to take care of his damage. Ned launched himself at me. I screamed and waited for Ned to kill me.
Instead, Ned pushed me away and I landed on the other side of the room. I hit the wall and fell on top of the exercise bike. My shoulders vibrated with pain. Ned looked away from me. He beat on the wall and growled. He wanted to eat me, but he was trying not to.
I scooted toward the bean bags. It was funny how your mind plays tricks on you. Old Abby resurfaced for just a second, telling me how stupid I was for not having killed Ned. Yet, the only reason Ned was here was because he was trying to help my friends, and because Larissa was a much tougher vampire. If Ned hadn’t been looking
