Page 5 of Slayed


  Kiki looks back and forth between my parents and Agent Sloan. I wait for her to tell them she’s fine, but then her bottom lip quivers and all of a sudden she’s sobbing uncontrollably. I’m stunned to see actual tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “It was so horrible,” she wails. “I thought my driver was going to die and then I’d be next. This will haunt me for the rest of my life!”

  5.

  Kiki takes in a blubbery gulp of air and my father puts an arm around her.

  “It’s okay, honey,” he coos. “Take a deep breath.”

  “What are you doing?” I ask Kiki.

  She ignores me and keeps her tirade going. “I thought the worst was over but then”—Kiki jabs a finger in my direction—“she cut the woman’s head off! She even held it up and”—her voice quivers—” and said I could pick up the next one.”

  “Daphne!” Mom snaps. “What were you thinking?”

  My mouth drops open as adrenaline pumps through my system again. “It’s not like it sounds. She was totally fine a minute ago. Tell them you’re fine, Kiki. Tell them how you’re not squeamish.”

  Mom glares at me as Kiki howls.

  “She was fine until you showed up,” I insist. “She even helped me drag the body behind the Dumpster.”

  Kiki buries her head on Dad’s chest. “I thought she might be some sort of psycho killer and I was afraid if I didn’t help her she might stake me next.”

  “She’s lying!” I shout. “She thought the whole thing was totally cool. She even went on and on about how she’d fight an army of vampires!”

  Kiki lifts her head from Dad’s chest and slowly turns toward me, gasping dramatically. She puts a hand to her mouth and takes in a ragged breath. “There are armies of vampires?”

  Dear God.

  The other agent shakes his head and frowns at me. Then he clears his throat and marches over to Kiki. “I’m Agent Brennan. I think you need to talk with our event specialist, Katie Anthony. Ms. Anthony can help you process whatever emotions you might be feeling.”

  Kiki grabs his arm, shaking it frantically. “There’s no time,” she says pulling him toward the cars. “We have to alert the media and tell the world that vampires are real!”

  Officer Sloan groans and I imagine he’s thinking this is going to cost the town big-time. “Now, Miss, let’s not get carried away. Come with us to the station,” he says gently. “Brennan, you get the driver.”

  Kiki nods and lets him escort her to the car. Before they take more than three steps she pulls away.

  “Wait!” She stands up straight, sniffs delicately, and places a hand over her heart like she’s about to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. “I have just had an epiphany.” She stares off into the night for a few seconds, and then turns to look us each in the eye. Her face transforms from one filled with terror to that of a stalwart soldier. “If there really are vampire armies out there, someone needs to fight them. Why couldn’t that someone be me?”

  Agent Brennan’s eyes widen. “Miss?”

  “Here’s the deal,” Kiki says matter-of-factly. “If Daphne here teaches me the ins and outs of killing vampires you won’t have to pay me any hush money.”

  Mom clenches her jaw and looks disbelievingly at me. “You told her about the money?”

  I bury my head in my hands.

  Kiki folds her arms across her very large chest. “She did, but I’d be willing to forgo any compensation for my harrowing ordeal if she agrees to show me the ropes.”

  Mom nods. “She’ll do it.”

  “No, I won’t!” I say. “Don’t you get it—this is all an act.”

  Kiki shrugs. “I guess we’ll have to head to the station and discuss money, then. I’ll have to call my parents and their team of lawyers first. You do know my parents, don’t you? The Crushers—lead singers of The Disco Unicorns? Name above the library door? Part of a billion-dollar media empire that could destroy this town with a clack of their little pink hooves? They’re going to be pretty upset to hear vampires have moved in around our cottage and how this traumatic near-death experience will no doubt affect my mental health.”

  “Good lord,” Agent Brennan mutters, exchanging a look with Agent Sloan. “The Crushers.”

  “Miss Crusher,” Dad says softly. “Daphne would be happy to show you ‘the ropes’ in exchange for not collecting a fee.”

  “Dad,” I whine. “Do you really think it’s safe bringing a novice on jobs?”

  Mom pulls me aside. “Daphne,” she says through clenched teeth. “We need the money and the goodwill of the police department. Having the Harkers here has completely turned the game around. Besides, how long do you think a girl like that is going to last anyway?”

  I look at Kiki in her high heel boots and a micro-mini so short I know Jennifer-Kate would put her on the “Fashion Faux Pas” page at the back of the magazine.

  Mom’s right. Kiki won’t last a day.

  “Fine, she can shadow me tomorrow—and however long it takes until the town is clean.”

  Kiki beams and claps her hands. “I promise I won’t get in the way. And even though I don’t think it’s necessary, I will slice and dice heads if that’s what you tell me to do.”

  “You’ll just be observing,” I insist.

  “Okay.” She turns to the agents. “So, is there, like, some form or something I need to sign releasing the town from liability and swearing me to secrecy?” she asks nonchalantly.

  Agent Sloan’s face is a mix of relief and confusion. “Uh, yes, if you wouldn’t mind.” He turns to look at her car. “About your driver?”

  She waves a hand dismissively in the air. “I’ll give him a raise; it won’t cost you a thing.”

  Agent Sloan exchanges a quick look with Agent Brennan and I know they’re thinking they lucked out with Kiki.

  “We will have to contact your parents, though,” Agent Brennan says.

  She shakes her head. “I’m an emancipated minor so they don’t have to know anything.”

  If the agents weren’t trying so hard to play it cool, I’d bet they’d be high-fiving each other right about now.

  “We’ll follow you to the station in my car. Sam, are you good to drive?”

  “Yes, Miss Crusher,” he calls out.

  Kiki smiles at all of us. “It’s settled, then.” She turns to me. “So, what time should we meet tomorrow?”

  “Six a.m. will be fine,” Mom says. “That will give Daphne time to brief you and give some rudimentary instruction before we start house cleaning.”

  I smirk and suppress a laugh. Go, Mom!

  Kiki grimaces. “Six? That’s a little early. I usually don’t get up before eleven. And what is this about house-cleaning? I thought we were hunting vampires.”

  “‘House cleaning’ is a euphemism for killing vampires in their lairs—or in this town, their vacation homes,” I tell her. “Vampires are less powerful during the day and easier to dispatch. How big of a list do we have?” I ask my parents.

  Dad walks over to the van and opens the driver’s door. He leans in and pulls out a folder. He opens it as he comes back our way. “We have ten houses identified for possible cleaning.”

  “We’ll definitely have to split up because the Harkers are sharing the job with us,” Mom says, not bothering to hide the disgust in her voice.

  My mouth drops open again. “No way! We’re sharing the job? How does that even work?”

  Mom scowls. “We’ve agreed to forgo our usual fee. Instead, we’ll get paid for each vampire killed. If the Harkers beat us to the punch, we’re out of luck. But there are three of us and only two of them.”

  Kiki raises her hand. “Four!”

  “You’ll be in training,” I say without enthusiasm. “So that still counts as three.”

  “We’ve also agreed to take a pay cut for every witness, but there is a five-thousand-dollar bonus for whichever ‘team’ can get a definitive answer as to why the influx of vampires has coincided with whatever is pr
eying on the kids.”

  “What’s wrong with praying for kids?” Kiki asks.

  “Preying on—as in hunting,” I say. “Something is sending kids to the hospital and it started around the same time the vamps arrived.”

  “We’re staying at the Water’s Edge Economy Lodge on West Side Road,” Mom continues. “We have only one vehicle so you’ll have to use your own transportation—is that a problem, Ms. Crusher?”

  Kiki frowns, no doubt still thinking about the early morning wake-up call she’ll need. “No, Sam can drive me. I kind of lost my license—but I was only over the limit by like a fraction of a point. There was also the underage thing.” She shrugs and I can’t believe she’s telling us she has a DWI on her record.

  “Are you ready, Miss?” Agent Brennan asks her.

  She nods and he leads her to her car. He opens the door for her and she turns to wave to me. “See you tomorrow.” She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Bright and early.”

  As the pink car backs out of the alley I shake my head. This is a disaster waiting to happen.

  The hotel sign is glowing in the dark ahead and I wish Dad would drive faster. I can’t wait to get in my own room and be alone.

  Agent Sloan phoned to warn me that I better do a good job so Kiki doesn’t call up that “team of lawyers” and have them figure out a way to null and void the contract she’d signed.

  Why couldn’t the police have just awarded this gig to the Harkers? I still can’t believe my parents agree to share the job. I know the van needs a new muffler, but still.

  “How am I supposed to hunt when I have that girl with me?” I lament. “And what if she gets bitten or something?”

  Mom turns around to face me. “You’re hunting during the day when the vampires are almost powerless.”

  “I guess, but what if she wants to go on night patrol with me?”

  “I don’t think that’s going to be an issue.”

  I think about Kiki saying she wasn’t squeamish. “I hope you’re right.”

  Dad pulls into a parking spot and I watch an assortment of insects flit in and around the lights illuminating the one level, no-frills motel. Faded plastic flowers droop in the window boxes and I eye the soda machine under an awning near the office. I’m going to need caffeine in the morning and this doesn’t look like the kind of place that will have a coffeemaker and packets of instant in the bathroom.

  “This just might be good for you, Doodlebug. Living like we do doesn’t leave much time for friends.”

  “Much time? How about no time?” And Kiki Crusher would be the last person I’d pick to be friends with. I scowl just thinking about her. “And even if I did want to be friends with her, we’ll be gone in a week’s time so what would the point be?”

  “This isn’t about making friends,” Mom says gathering her things. “It’s about getting the job done no matter what obstacles they throw in our way. And like I said, I’d bet money that girl will be out of your hair in less than twenty-four hours.”

  Suddenly Mom slaps the dashboard and I jump. “Oh, great, figures they’re here.”

  I scan the lot. Mr. Harker is leaning on a rusted blue car smoking a cigarette. He sees us looking at him and nods.

  Mom practically growls. “He’s infuriating.”

  “Joy, it hasn’t been easy for him,” Dad says gently. “I really think he’s sincere in wanting to reconnect.”

  “That’s never going to happen,” Mom whispers. “Never.” She shakes her head. “If he hadn’t been so reckless—hadn’t encouraged her to follow suit—she’d still be here.” Mom takes in a long breath.

  I shift uncomfortably in the back. It occurs to me that Mom must have been friends with Mrs. Harker, and like Dad implied, friends are hard to come by. I’m having a hard time picturing Mom relaxing and laughing with a friend, though—she’s always so serious. But maybe there was a time….

  “I know you still miss her …,” Dad starts.

  Mom sits up straight, game face back on. “Let’s check in. We have a lot of planning and research to do if we want to come out ahead.” She puts her purse strap over her shoulder and opens her door. “I’ll get the keys.” She slams the door harder than necessary and stalks toward the hotel office.

  I steal a look at Mr. Harker and I wonder if Dad misses working with him. I imagine he was a different man before he had to stake his wife. His face is heavily lined and with the greasy, thinning hair and unkempt clothes it’s clear the years haven’t been kind to him. He takes a drag on his cigarette and his head turns to follow Mom as she makes her way to the office.

  I catch Dad peeking at Mr. Harker too. “How long did you work together?” I ask.

  Dad looks away. “Since we were boys. Our parents worked together too. Our mothers watched us in shifts. I always assumed we’d do the same until …”

  He doesn’t finish his sentence but I know what he’s thinking—until Mrs. Harker got turned; reason number one million and one of why this business sucks.

  “Let’s get settled,” Dad says, opening his door. “We have a lot of ground to cover before Ms. Crusher joins us in the morning.”

  I grab my crate and bump the door closed with my hip. The hotel stands by itself by the side of the road, one long single-story building wrapped in a blanket of night sky. I can’t help but notice the clarity of the stars—so different from Buffalo where we’d just been.

  Mom comes out of the office looking straight ahead, obviously trying to avoid eye contact with Mr. Harker.

  “Joy,” Mr. Harker calls out loudly. “Do you have a minute?”

  Mom visibly stiffens as he walks toward her. “I have nothing to say to you, Nathan,” she replies coldly as she keeps going.

  He throws his cigarette down and crushes it with his heavy boot and then hurries to catch up with her. “I just want to apologize again,” he says. “I was out of line talking to Officer MacCready about Vince’s father—way out of line. But I think us working together like this is fate. It’s been too long; it’s time to mend fences.”

  She stops and turns, pointing a finger in his face. “You threw us under the bus!” she hisses.

  “Wait here,” Dad says, coming around the van. I honestly think Dad would give Mr. Harker a second chance, but Mom wears the pants in this family. He hustles over to Mom and puts an arm protectively around her shoulder. “Nathan, now is not a good time. Give us a chance to process everything.”

  Mom stares incredulously at Dad. “There is nothing to process! We had an agreement.” She turns to Mr. Harker, eyes blazing. “You would stay on the West Coast and we would work the East. It was the perfect arrangement. What are you even doing here, Nathan?”

  Mr. Harker runs his fingers through his greasy hair and then looks a bit wildly around the parking lot as if he’s expecting something to jump out at them. “It’s time. Can’t you feel it?” His eyes dart around some more as he fidgets with the ring on his hand. “I’ve been waiting so long,” he mutters. He looks at Dad hopefully. “But something told me I had to come east. And meeting up with you—here in this town—it was meant to be. Tell me you can’t feel it.”

  Mom and Dad exchange looks and I’m sure they’re thinking the same thing I am: Mr. Harker is nuts.

  “We can work together,” he insists. “I know things—dark things,” he says quietly. “It can be like it used to.”

  Mom’s eyes widen and she looks almost afraid of Mr. Harker. “I don’t know what you’re talking about and I don’t want to know. Just stay away from my family, and when this job is over I want you to get the hell back to the West Coast and keep out of our territory.”

  Mr. Harker’s lips turn up into a slight smile. “You just need some time to get used to the idea. It always did take you time to warm up to things.” He looks at Dad and winks. “She’ll come around.” He laughs. “She always does. Right, Vince?”

  A door opens and Tyler Harker pokes his head out of his room. “Dad, come inside.”

  The tone of hi
s voice makes it clear he’s embarrassed. I imagine he’s been watching the scene from his room.

  Mr. Harker ignores Tyler. “And think about my boy. He needs people in his life, people who understand what we do. So does your girl.”

  Dad purses his lips. He glances at Mom, who shakes her head ever so slightly. “It’s not going to work, Nathan,” he says. “I’m sorry.” He leads Mom back toward the van.

  “Dad, come on!” From the light pouring out of his room I can see that Tyler’s hair is slicked back from being in the shower. I wonder if this is the first hotel he’s stayed at in a while—the first shower.

  “It’s fate!” Mr. Harker calls out. “You can’t fight it any more than I can. The die has been cast.”

  As he says this, a shiver runs through me. Mom reaches the van, grabs my arm roughly, and pulls me toward our rooms. “Let’s go, Daphne.” She looks over her shoulder at Mr. Harker and hustles me along.

  She sticks the card in the door for room fourteen and the lock whirs and clicks. The green light comes on and Dad opens the door and ushers us in. The air is fairly stale inside. They must not get a lot of people this time of year. I put my crate on the small desk and see there’s no adjoining door, so I’ll have a little more privacy without Mom barging in whenever she feels like it.

  Mom sits on one of the twin beds and starts obsessively picking at the fuzzballs on the ugly brown and pink floral patterned bedspread. “He’s crazy. I can’t believe Officer MacCready didn’t take one look at Nathan and toss him out of his office.” She stares up at the ceiling and shakes her head. “And demons, of all things!”

  This gets my attention. “Demons? What are you talking about?”

  Mom gets up and paces in the small room. “He went on and on about demons being responsible for the attacks on the children and Officer MacCready acted like that was a credible theory. ‘There’re vampires, why not demons,’” she says, obviously recounting what Officer MacCready said in his office after I’d left.

  “What kind of demons?” I ask.

  “He didn’t get into the details,” Dad says. “He wanted to talk to us afterward but we—”