Incubus Dreams - Laurell K. Hamilton [288]
61
I’D TRIED TO call my friendly neighborhood vampire hunter in New Orleans to see what I could learn about the vamps we were after, but Denis-Luc St. John, vamp hunter and federal marshal, was in the hospital, still in intensive care. They’d damn near killed him before they left town. Worse and worse.
The sun was a bloody strip of red against the western sky when Zerbrowski and I got out of his car to question the first witness. I always felt like I should have to wash my jeans when I got out of his car. The backseat was so full of paper and old fast food bags that it looked like a landfill. The front seat wasn’t actually dirty, but the rest of the car was so messy that it just felt like the entire car was icky.
“Do Katie and the kids ever ride in this thing?” I asked as we started up the steps to the first apartment on the list.
“Naw, she and the kids take the minivan.”
I shook my head. “Has she seen the inside of it recently?”
“You’ve seen our house, it’s perfect, everything in its place. Even our bedroom is immaculate. The car is the one place that’s mine. It gets to be as messy as I want it to be.”
Strangely, it made more sense to me now than it would have a few months ago. I understood the fine art of compromise between a couple in a way that I never had before. I’m not saying I was good at it, just that I understood it more.
Zerbrowski read off the number of the apartment, and it was on the second floor, in a line of concrete walkway and metal railing. The doors were all identical. I wondered if the neighbors knew that they had a vamp living next door. You’d be amazed at the number of people that don’t figure it out. Vampires hit my radar hard, so they don’t pass unnoticed for me. More humans than I’m comfortable with get fooled. I don’t know if it’s because they want to be fooled, or if it really is harder for them to spot a vamp. I don’t know which would bother me more, that normal humans can’t spot them, thus implying that I am even more outside the norm, or that people want to be fooled that badly.
Since we were looking for vampires that had killed at least two people, I stretched out that part of me that sensed the dead. It wasn’t the same part that raised zombies. Though explaining the difference was like explaining the difference between sky blue and turquoise. They were both blue, but they weren’t the same color.
Zerbrowski reached for the doorbell, and I touched his hand. “Not yet.”
“Why not?” he asked. His hand swept back his wrinkled trench coat and suit jacket, to touch the butt of his gun on his hip. “You hear something?”
“Ease down, it’s okay. He’s just not awake yet.”
Zerbrowski looked puzzled at me. “What does that mean?”
“I can feel vampires, Zerbrowksi, if I concentrate, or they’re doing something powerful. He’s not awake yet. I was hoping he would be, he’s supposed to be the oldest one of the three, longest dead. Longest dead usually wakes up first, unless one of them is a master. Masters wake up first.”
“I knew the part about longest dead,” he said. “So a master vampire that is two years dead can wake up before a vampire that is five years dead, but not a master?”
“Yeah, though some vamps don’t accumulate enough power in five hundred years to rival masters I’ve met that were under five years.”
“That’d be a bummer. A flunkie for all eternity.”
I nodded. “Yeah.” I felt that instant spark inside the room. It hit me almost like a punch to the stomach, or lower. Once I could only sense vamps that I had a connection to, to this degree, and once it was just a small quiver of recognition. Apparently, I’d gone up a power level or two.
“You okay?” Zerbrowski asked.
“Yeah, just, yeah. Now you can use the doorbell.”
He gave me a look.
“I was concentrating too hard when he woke up,