"You killed him, Sam."
I said nothing. I wasn't admitting anything, especially to a homicide investigator.
"You nearly ripped his head off."
I kept saying nothing.
"Of course, I should arrest you. For his murder, and for anyone else who's gone missing or been killed on any of your other cases." He turned his shoulder and propped a meaty elbow up on the seat's head rest. "Just tell me one thing, Sam: do you kill people for blood?"
"No."
"Do you drink blood?"
His tone was challenging. I felt like a daughter confronted by her father about smoking weed or drinking booze.
"I have to," I said, looking away.
He stared at me so long and hard that I wanted to crawl under a rock.
"Please don't judge me," I finally said. "I never asked for this."
"I'm not judging, Sam. I'm just trying to wrap my brain around all of this. I mean, a part of me suspected something was up, and perhaps even a very small part of me began to believe...this. But to hear it now, from a pretty young investigator I've grown to admire, is something else entirely."
"I'll deny everything, Detective. So let's get that clear now."
I wasn't looking at him but I felt him grin. I sensed only confusion and compassion and more confusion from him. And also a steady sense of alarm. But not for his own health or well-being. We still had a missing boy out there, after all.
"And I'll never admit to watching the Twilight movies," he said.
"I'll take your secret to my grave," I said.
"I thought vampires were immortal," he said.
"We'll see."
"So what do we do about Eddy?" said Sherbet. "The kidnapped boy?"
"If it's a ransom," I said. "Then I'll be hearing from his abductor."
Sherbet nodded. "Makes sense. And his abductor...would he also be a vampire?"
"More than likely," I said.
"And what's this about a relic?"
I reached inside my jeans pocket and removed the medallion. I didn't trust it anywhere except on my person. He turned on the car's interior light, and I showed him the golden disc.
"It's a necklace with ruby roses," he said.
"Your observational skills are second to none, Detective."
"Don't sass me, young lady. What's so special about this?"
"It's reputed to reverse vampirism."
"Ah," he said. "And that's a good thing?"
"For some."
"And you don't want to give it up?"
"I can't," I said. "Under any circumstances."
"Even to save a little boy?"
I put the medallion back in my pocket. Just having it out made me nervous.
"I need it," I said.
He heard the anguish in my voice, and since Sherbet also happened to be a helluva detective, he looked at me sharply. "Your son," he said.
I buried my face in my hands.
"You need it to change your son back, don't you?"
Now I was rocking in my seat and crying, and talking incomprehensibly about saving my son, and doing all I had to do to keep him from dying, and knowing I was a horrible mother, but what else could I do? I loved him so much, and I had a chance to save him, and I had to take it, I had to take it...
And as I babbled nearly incoherently, Detective Sherbet reached out and put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me in close and told me that everything was going to be okay. Somehow, someway, everything was going to be okay...
Chapter Thirty-six
Mary Lou arrived an hour or so later with Tammy.
They had stopped at McDonald's and had sneaked in a Big Mac for Anthony. I told them Anthony was probably too weak to eat, but boy was I wrong. He devoured the sandwich in a few quick bites and was looking for more. He next pounded his sister's fries, and I waited for what I was sure was coming next:
Upchuck city.
Food, for me, lasts only a few minutes before it comes up violently. But Anthony never did vomit. Instead, he complained slightly of an upset stomach and I realized what was happening. Although only a half inch or so above his skin, his aura was still there. His humanity was still there. For now. Until the change overcame him completely. By contrast, his sister, who was sitting on the edge of his bed and playing "Angry Birds" on my sister's cell phone, shone like a beacon in the night. Pale yellows and reds, streaked with silvers and golds, surrounded her body many feet or more, sometimes flaring like mini-nuclear explosions on the surface of the sun.
But not Anthony. His aura was only a fine dusting of light. Almost an afterthought.
Shit.
His last meal, I thought. Or close to it.
I was, admittedly, torn. I knew I had to find Archibald Maximus asap, especially since his book had given me an intriguing clue. From what I gathered, he lived in the mountains above San Bernardino, Lake Arrowhead or Big Bear, one of those, both popular ski resorts. With Anthony getting better, and simultaneously losing his mortality, now was as good a time as any to set out for the mountains and Mr. Maximus.
But the missing boy was tearing me to pieces. An innocent family had gotten caught up in my insanity, and now their boy was missing, having been abducted by a true monster.
Who was Bow Tie? A vampire? I had no doubt, unless the medallion could reverse other supernatural curses, which it very well might. That he jumped from a third-floor hospital room, leaving behind no evidence - it turns out he had thrown a chair through the window - could mean anything. I suspected someone like Kingsley could withstand such a fall. After all, I had seen him in his wolf's form leap nine stories without missing a beat. Whether or not Kingsley could perform such an act in his human form, I didn't know. There was so much I didn't know.
There was a family not very far from this room who had been torn to pieces. All because of my actions. I had to do something.
I looked again at the faint aura around my son's body. I still had time. Not much, granted, but at least a day and a half, maybe two.
I stood and paced and my daughter ignored me. That her little brother was suddenly doing much better didn't seem to matter much to her. The faith of children. No doubt she always assumed he would get better.
My sister was watching me with huge eyes. She alternately looked at Anthony and I saw her confusion. She suspected something, too. But not enough to confront me about it, and I couldn't talk to her about it, not now, and not in present company. She was just going to have to keep wondering.
Where would the bastard have gone? Would he be contacting me soon? Had he realized his mistake and simply killed the boy? Would he next be coming after Anthony?