“Your mom know you’re here?” Vivian asked.
I shook my head again.
“Bet your folks think you’re home in bed, don’t they?”
“Maybe.”
“Glad you came?”
I frowned at her. “Not very.”
“Bet your friend Rusty had himself a good time. For a while there, anyway ... till Valeria put the bite on him.”
Her attempt at humor angered me. I opened my mouth. Mostly, I intended to tell her to shut up. But different words came out. “Is she real?” I heard myself ask.
“Real? Sure she’s real.”
“I mean, a vampire.”
Vivian let out a harsh laugh. “What do
“Is she?”
“Nan. She’s the tooth fairy.”
The guy laughed. “Good one,” he said.
Off ahead of me, behind the other stand of bleachers, three sets of headlights lit the night. I couldn’t see the vehicles behind them, but figured they must be the Traveling Vampire Show’s hearse, bus and truck.
The beams of the headlights reached through the stands. In their pale glow, I saw Stryker and Lee standing together on the ground, and Valeria alone in her cage.
She no longer wore her boots. Totally naked, she was leaning back against the bars, arms and legs spread out, stretching and writhing as if she relished the flexing of her muscles and the feel of the rain on her bare skin.
When the light beams shifted, I looked away from Valeria.
One pair of headlights continued to aim at the arena, but the other two sets slid away through the rainy night.
In the jittery glare of a lightning flash, I caught a glimpse of the vehicles. The hearse remained in place behind the opposite bleachers. Moving slowly to the right was the large black truck. Moving to the left was the black bus.
Where’re they going? I wondered.
We had no guarantee that Stryker would keep his part of the bargain.
Through the sounds of their engines and the hiss and patter of the falling rain came a soft rumble of thunder.
The truck and bus rounded the ends of the bleachers, then turned. They weren’t leaving, after all.
They drove straight toward each other until the bright beams of their headlights filled the cage. Then they stopped. I heard brakes squeak.
Now, headlights reached through the night from three directions. All of them met in the cage.
Stryker climbed the steps and entered.
Lee walked in after him.
Valeria let go of the bars. Still stretching and writhing in a languid way that seemed almost catlike, she glided toward the middle of the cage. Her sleek black hair was flat against her scalp and clinging to the sides of her face and neck. In the glare of the six headlights, her skin looked like alabaster gleaming and dripping with baby oil.
Stryker raised a hand and signalled her to stop.
She halted.
Like a boxing referee, Stryker spoke to both contestants. I couldn’t hear a word he said.
For our benefit, he held up an open hand—the unstretched fingers apparently representing five minutes. Then he hurried backward from between the two women and brought his arm down fast.
As Lee and Valeria started to circle each other, Stryker left the cage. Outside it, he shut the door and did something to its latch.
I gasped, “Hey! He shut the
“No sweat, kid,” said the man on my right.
“Don’t worry about it,” Vivian told me. She patted my thigh. “Door or no door, your gal won’t be getting out of there alive.”
Chapter Fifty-eight
Down in the cage, Lee and Valeria kept circling each other, staying apart but bent over, their arms wide open, their heads up.
