There's a cemetery on Sunnylane Road in Del City that you can drive around in. It's pretty in the spring and summer with all the trees and sculpture. Now it was dead grass and darkness. I left the Cadillac parked on the south end and took the keys with me when I walked away. Don's key ring was probably the only thing belonging to him that I could keep. I couldn't see that the police would come looking for me either—my fingerprints would have been in the car anyway. After all, I was Don's wife and I'd driven the car a few times just to keep the battery charged up. All I had to do now was find somebody who wanted to donate blood and then find a place to stay while the sun was up.
* * *
"I was hoping she'd return and make things simpler for us," Sergio glanced around the cellar. He and Edward had rented it as an emergency hiding space and it would have been the perfect place for the female to spend her daylight hours. Instead, her scent had gone cold inside it. She hadn't come back.
"She can't be all that intelligent," Edward said. "Did you see her? She looked like hell, didn't take care of herself and didn't have a drop of make-up on. No wonder we both thought she was nearing sixty."
"See her?" I turned her, if you'll recall," Sergio snorted. "I almost gagged doing it, too."
"I cannot understand this," Edward raked fingers through his hair. "She hadn't changed all that much when we saw her last. How did this happen, my friend?"
"No idea. I've been checking the local news for any information regarding unexplained deaths or missing humans, but have found nothing out of the ordinary. If she's feeding and killing, she hasn't yet done anything to raise suspicion."
"You know that's all it will take to bring the Enforcers in," Edward paced inside the cellar. "We must find her first and eliminate our little faux pas."
He and Sergio walked out into the alleyway only a short time later. The woman had one advantage over them; she'd lived in the city all her life and they'd only been there a short time, stopping briefly on their way to the west coast. Their stop had been extended due to their own foolishness. Now they had to eradicate the evidence of that foolishness before moving on.
* * *
"Hey, sugar, what's your name?" The man's breath was so loaded with alcohol I almost choked. I'd decided earlier that a drunk might not remember much if I bit him, and with the little bit of persuasion I seemed to have, that would make it even easier.
"How about you and me, over in that corner?" I had to get close to the man's ear; the music was playing so loudly inside the dimly lit western bar it was painful to me. Smells too were assaulting my now-sensitive nose—perfume, beer, sweat and sex. The man I'd chosen was plastered already and willing to agree to anything, especially if a female proposed it to him. I took his hand and led him over to the darkest corner, got him settled into a booth and waited until nobody seemed to be looking to do my thing. I was holding his head while I drank so any casual observer would think we were necking. I licked the last few drops of blood off his throat afterward and let him sit back in his seat. He blinked at me a few times while a slow grin spread across his face. "Sugar, that was some kiss," he slurred. I patted him on the shoulder and got up to leave the bar, learning quickly once I was outside that drinking from a human that was already drunk makes the vampire drunk as well. I wobbled my way across the street that ran alongside the bar. There were businesses and furniture outlets nearby and I wanted to see if any one of them might have a spot where I could sit for a while until the drunk wore off.
* * *
Drinking from a drunk was now on my list of things never to do again, I vowed when I woke the following evening. I'd gone to bed in the basement of a warehouse under renovation, and since it was Sunday, nobody was scheduled to work. I was lucky to be in one piece—I'd gotten into a car the evening before with four crazed frat boys from a local university after a tiny bit of coaxing. They'd slowed down as I'd walked toward one of my targeted furniture stores, asking if I needed help or a ride. The young men were out looking for fun, and after they'd convinced me to ride with them, we'd done a bit of a pub-crawl. I know. I'd intended to go looking for a place to sober up, but alcohol inhibits your judgment just as they always said it would. I did have something I didn't have before, though. Pulling the fake ID out of my jeans pocket, I examined it carefully.
My frat boys knew somebody that might help me, they'd said after mentioning their goal of going to as many bars as possible during the evening. Since I had no ID, I'd lied to them and spun a tale of woe about having my purse stolen. I'd gotten my meal in the first bar by using the mojo I seemed to have, but that didn't guarantee it would work everywhere. Plus, I was learning to lie like a professional, I suppose, and those boys ate it right up. They had a friend who was in the business, they'd said. For two hundred dollars, that friend fixed me right up. The braces-sporting geeky youth cranked out a new ID for me in a matter of minutes. It even had the hologram that everybody checks.
I was Lissa B. Haddon, now. We'd lived next door to some Haddons when I was little and the name just popped into my head. According to my ID, I was twenty-three and weighed one-ten with blue eyes and blond hair. I hoped the ID was good enough to get me out of town—Ed and Serge had to be looking for me still and I didn't want to hang around and wait on them to show up. A cab drove me to Target where I purchased a rolling suitcase and then asked the driver to take me to the bus station. If you have a sensitive nose, the bus station might be the last place you want to go. I shoved all my clothing into my new suitcase and used my new ID to buy a bus ticket. I was heading to Denton, Texas, just as fast as I could get there.
There was a bus heading out at three in the morning and arriving in Denton around six. According to the schedules, Denton was as far as I could go with the amount of time I had. It also left me a little time to find a place to sleep once I got there. My blood donor for the evening was hanging around a bar about a block over, and he had a big grin on his face when I left him.
* * *
After my arrival in Denton, I found a nearby hotel to spend the daylight hours. I figured I was risking my life sleeping in a motel room to begin with, so I made sure the door was locked and the drapes drawn. Even then, I curled up on the windowless bathroom floor, wrapped up in all the bedding I could drag off the bed before I went to sleep. Well, sleeping might be a misconception. One minute I'd be awake, the next I was unconscious. I know I breathed while I was awake, that allowed me to speak. As far as a heartbeat went, I didn't have one. That myth was no longer a myth. Whether I breathed or not while I slept—I had no way of knowing.