Blood Memories

Something began stirring softly inside my head. Wade was awake. Without attempting to push him from my mind, I thought about nothing. I pictured a huge black hole covering the world. He would still be able to read my presence, but hopefully couldn't pinpoint my location or extract any information.

I didn't try to read his thoughts or do anything besides crouch there, picturing a black hole. He cast about for me in weak thought patterns and then stopped, probably exhausted. I moved toward the alley until Dominick's voice became audible.

"Just stop it then! She's long gone by now. If I had half a brain, I would've gone after her. Jesus, Wade, I thought you were dead."

When Wade answered, he startled me. Dominick's voice sounded exactly like he looked-mean and ugly. But Wade's voice was clear, kind of breathy. It didn't match his roughly scattered thought patterns.

"You killed her, Dom! You killed that woman. What are we going to do?"

"We're going to get the hell out of here. Can you walk?"

"We can't just leave her. There's a bullet from your gun in her back."

"No, come here and look. It went straight through her."

"Then it's still here somewhere. You know the routine. They'll find it."

"Come on, Wade. She looks like just another hooker. Nobody's gonna search this alley."

I'd never seen a dead vampire before. I mean… we're undead, but Maggie was dead now. Edward once told me that our bodies would begin cracking within moments, and then start turning to ash. This would eradicate any evidence of her existence. I had a sick feeling Dominick knew that or he wouldn't have been so flippant about the missing bullet.

Their argument grew muffled, and I could pick out only bits and pieces. Then they started moving. I kept the black hole in my mind in case Wade tried to search again, but I was beginning to realize that he didn't know much more about focusing his psyche than I did.

I followed them as closely as possible. It would have been a lot easier if I simply could have gone inside Wade's head and viewed his physical surroundings through his eyes, but that would have given my position away.

They eventually ended up on Fourth Avenue and got into a silver Mustang. I panicked for a second. Having to follow them in a car never occurred to me. The dark streets were nearly empty. Then I spotted an overweight teenager unlocking a dented Ford Escort.

The Mustang pulled out from the curb.

I ran to the pudgy kid. "Hey," I said, smiling. "Do me a big favor? Quick. For twenty bucks?"

His face melted in a simultaneous mask of suspicion and interest. "What kind of favor?"

"Follow them," I said, pointing to the disappearing Mustang.

He stared at me. "You're kidding."

"Just do it, okay?"

"Old boyfriend?"

"Something like that."

"Okay, get in."

"You're a prince."

He was actually pretty good behind the wheel and caught up to the silver moving target within a few seconds.

"Not bad," I said. "You practice this?"

He lit a cigarette and held it between thick lips. "My girlfriend dumped me for a hockey player. I used to follow 'em around sometimes."

"What happened then?"

"I got over it."

"Good for you. I heard hockey players make lousy lays, anyway. Too many bruises."

"Yeah." He smiled. "That's what my dad said."

Dominick drove all the way out to old Highway 99 and parked by a single-story motel called the Rosewood. But daylight was only a few hours away, so whatever I was going to do had to be fast.

"Here's my stop," I said. "Everyone please depart in a calm and orderly fashion."

The kid laughed softly, and I handed him thirty dollars.

"Thanks a lot," I said. "I gotta go."

"Hey, wait." He wrote something quickly on a book of matches and gave it to me. "That's my number. If you get over this guy, give me a call."

Sometimes I forget that I look seventeen. "Just might have to do that. Always did like a man who can drive."

As he pulled back onto the street, I fell out of charming mode and crouched down behind a Chevy pickup. Dominick slipped into room 6. Wade went into room 10. Instinct told me to ignore Wade and cut his partner's heart out, but common sense pushed that vision away. Dominick might know more than he should, but he was useless and blind without Wade.

For a moment, I considered knocking on Wade's door and taking him by surprise when he opened it. But the scene of Maggie's death flashed by me, and I decided he'd have to be caught while sleeping. For that I'd need a key.

The lobby of the Rosewood Motel was dead at three o'clock in the morning. A middle-aged clerk sat reading a tattered issue of Playboy behind the front desk. After peering through a set of glass front doors, I used my teeth to tear my own left wrist open and then smeared blood all over my arm and face before staggering into the lobby, bleeding on the cheap, indoor-outdoor carpet.

"Please, help me."

The clerk's stunned expression would have been comical at another time. Dropping the magazine, he hurried toward me, muttering, "Oh, dear. Oh, dear."

I hadn't heard that in years.