us at the door of one of a col ection of tiny red-brick duplexes that formed the government-subsidized
housing for the elderly in our fair city. She was wearing a lavender velour track suit with a white tank top
and the kind of heavy sensible white shoes you see advertised in magazines for nurses and other
folks who spend most of their time on their feet. At her invitation we fol owed her inside, moving slowly
as she shuffled along using one of those aluminum walkers with bright green tennis bal s attached to
the front feet for traction.
We’d come here because Mrs. Simmons didn’t have a history of mental instability. I was going to be
paying her fifty dol ars, because she was on a fixed income and needed the money. Seemed like a
smal enough price to pay if she could help me out.
At Gibson’s suggestion I’d hung back a bit, in the shadows cast by a trel is of pink climbing roses. He
wanted to make sure my appearance didn’t startle her. After my experiences earlier, I didn’t blame him.
“Dottie, I have someone with me who was attacked last night. She’s a victim, and I swear to you she
is not a danger to you.”
“Don’t be sil y, Karl, I know you’d never put me at risk. Miss … come on in. There’s no need to be
skulking around in the shadows.”
“Yes, ma’am. If you say so.” I tried to show my appreciation with a smile. I shouldn’t have. It flashed
the fangs. She stepped back so abruptly she nearly fel , her face as white as a sheet, her blue eyes as
wide as saucers.
“Dottie … Dot, it’s al right,” Gibson assured her. “Celia was ambushed last night. She was rescued
before the process went too far, but we need your help to know exactly what went on in that al ey. We
need to catch the bat that did this to her.”
“Oh, my.” Dottie put her hand to her chest, her breath coming in short gasps. It took a couple of
moments before she calmed enough to speak. “I’m so sorry, dear, but you
shook her head. “So sil y. I
her head again. “It is a shock. You poor thing. You’l be facing a hard time, I bet, with people reacting
before they think, just like I did. How are you feeling?”
I shrugged. “Physical y, I’m recovering. Mental y, I don’t remember much and am stil pretty much in
denial.” I made my voice as soothing as I could. “I know it’s going to catch up with me eventual y. But
right now, I’ve got to find out what happened, before the bat that attacked me comes back to finish the
job.”
Again her eyes went wide, as she realized what I meant. “Oh dear. We can’t have that. Absolutely
not.” Dottie appeared flustered. “No, of course not. Come in, come in. Have a seat on the couch while
I go get my supplies. I won’t be a minute.”
Wel , didn’t I just feel like a heel, scaring the crap out of a nice little old lady. Not that I could help it. But
stil … I could only hope my gran didn’t react the same way next time she saw me. She’d already had
one heart attack. A bad enough shock might actual y kil her.
I fidgeted on the overstuffed sofa and looked around to waste some time. It was a nice apartment. A
little excessive, what with al the knickknacks, floral patterns, and doilies, but nice. The entire place
smel ed of air freshener and there wasn’t a trace of dust on any of the ceramic and pewter statues,
cups, and col ector plates that fil ed the shelves attached to the wal : kittens and cats mostly, in al sorts
of poses. Painted kittens romped around the base of the lamp sitting on the end table. But there wasn’t
a real cat in sight or any evidence of one. Then again, this was government housing. They probably
had a “no pets” clause. Pity. She seemed like she would be good with pets.
Dottie reappeared in short order. A tray was hooked to the front of her walker. Balanced on the tray
was an elaborately etched crystal bowl with a silver rim and a plastic half-gal on jug of One Shot brand
holy water. With every step she took, the bowl clanked against the metal walker leg and the jug rocked
back and forth.
I started to rise to help her, but Gibson beat me to it. He grabbed the bowl with both hands, moving it
gently to the top of the coffee table. Next he took the bottle of holy water, uncorked it, and began
pouring it into the bowl as Dottie careful y lowered herself into a worn but fluffy recliner.
“Do you have anything that was with you when you were attacked?” she asked. “It can be anything
smal enough to fit in the bowl. Rings, car keys—” She left the sentence unfinished because I’d already
started nodding. My clothes might be trashed. My keys hadn’t been with me. But there were little garnet
studs in my ears. Since I woke up with them, I must have been wearing them last night. Best of al , they
were set in silver, which should make them even better for the purpose.
I reached up to take them from my ears as she placed one frail hand on each side of the bowl and
began muttering a soft chant that I recognized as a basic focusing exercise. I dropped the earrings
into the center of the bowl without being told.
Concentric circles of water raced toward the edge of the bowl. When they hit the glass, flames
erupted, racing around the silver rim. Smoke gathered above the water’s surface to form a black-andwhite image of a sleazy bar. I watched myself from above, looking simultaneously bored and disgusted
by the lewd scene just over my shoulder. There were too many nude, sweaty limbs and groping hands
for my taste. I was keeping an eye on the prince—whom I recognized from the file in my car— and
apparently I wasn’t liking it. There are some things it’s better not to remember. Then a pair of men
rushed into the room and the situation took on an urgent feel. We raced out into a darkened al ey. The
image was so detailed that I could make out individual bricks and the long scaly tails of the rats feasting
on a pile of garbage. I could actual y hear their chittering and squeaks, along with the distant sounds of
the city.
Vicki uses a mirror as her focus. It’s impressive. But this was just … cool. I watched, mesmerized, as
shadows shifted, then solidified to reveal vampires lying in wait. I held my breath as a rectangle of white
light appeared as the back door of the building opened. The miniature image of Bob Johnson stepped
into the al ey with me fol owing a few steps behind him.
myself to concentrate on what I was seeing. I watched myself look both ways down the al ey.
One of the rats bolted, and I saw myself turn, my gun tracking its movement. The vampires struck.
As the fight played out in front of me in miniature, visceral flashes of memory hit me like punches to
the gut—the smel of cordite mixed with the heavy scent of blood overwhelming the stench of the al ey,
the pounding of my heart as I dragged Bob toward the light and safety, only to have the escape route
cut off behind us by the …
Sweat beaded my forehead. Panting, I felt myself struggling as they ripped off my jacket to get at
wrists and throat, felt arms like iron bands pinning me to the ground as sharp canines tore into my
upper thigh. Though I knew I was sitting, safe and sound, on Dottie’s comfortable sofa, I couldn’t
escape the sensations.
I heard myself screaming, a sound of hopelessness and rage, and though a part of me knew that
