A moment later, I returned to my body, waited a moment to get reoriented, and then reported my findings. Mostly, I reported them for Kingsley’s benefit, as I knew Allison had internally followed my traveling, swooping mind.
“I’ll fit,” said Kingsley.
“How can you be so sure?”
He tapped his thick skull. “Mind over matter.”
“Fine,” I said, “so what’s the game plan?”
“Get your sister,” said Kingsley, “and get the hell out of there.”
“What about Danny?” I asked.
Kingsley turned and looked at me, and as he did so, his eyes flared amber. Not the flame I sometimes saw in other vampires’ eyes. No, this was the glint of something wild, feral, untamed. Something animalistic.
“Well, I can’t just leave him there,” I said.
“He’s part of this, Sam. You told me so yourself. That they turned on him is his own fault.”
“He’s my kids’ father...”
“He made his own bed, Samantha,” said Kingsley.
As he said those words, I wondered about that. I wondered if Danny had, indeed, made his bed, or if someone had made it for him, so to speak. Well, I would learn the truth soon enough. One thing was certain, there was no way in hell he had willingly allowed his finger to be cut off.
I didn’t mention Fang, although Allison was well aware of my plans to save him, too. Kingsley already didn’t like Fang much, and vice versa. Both saw the other as a threat, and if Kingsley was already having a problem with me helping my ex, well, I knew for damn sure he would put his overgrown paw down in regard to Fang.
He doesn’t like Fang, came Allison’s thoughts.
You can read his mind, too? I asked, surprised.
Not really. Kingsley is a master at shielding his thoughts, but I can read his body language and some latent feelings he’s had. If you are going to save Fang, and possibly even your ex, you can count him out.
And what about you? I asked her.
Oh, you can always count me in, silly.
Fang has the diamond medallion, I thought, referring to the one artifact that could return me to a mostly-normal life.
I know, Sam. Is that the only reason why you want to save him?
I didn’t have to think long about the answer. No, I thought back to her, I’m pretty sure I love him.
That’s what I thought, Sam.
“Are you two done?” asked Kingsley.
“We’re done,” I said.
“Good,” he said, “because I have an idea about how we can save your sister...and maybe even your lying, cheating ex-hubby, too.”
Chapter Thirty-nine
The trail from the parking lot soon wound along the Los Angeles River.
No, not a traditional river, but it had been once, before man, concrete and zoning commissions debased, muzzled and graffitied it. As we followed a dirt path that led along the flowing water, which sparkled to my eyes, but probably not so much to Allison’s—Kingsley was a different story—I scanned ahead, verifying that we were not being followed or stepping into a trap. We were okay on both fronts.
So far.
Crickets chirped endlessly, seemingly coming from everywhere at once. A small hum filled the air, too; mosquitoes were alive and well along the banks of the tamed river. Beyond, the drone of traffic along the I-5. Many people didn’t realize just how hilly Los Angeles was. We were surrounded by such hills now, each dotted with bright lights from bigger homes.
A friend of mine, Spinoza, had his office near here, in Echo Park. So did another friend of mine, who bore an uncanny resemblance to Elvis Presley, despite the obvious facial reconstruction.
We probably could have used both their help now. But they were mortals with guns. These were vampires with teeth. Vamps with teeth trumped guns.
I had another friend out here, too, a private eye who had recently passed from lung cancer complicated by AIDS. I’d met him long ago while working with the federal government. We’d both been involved with a missing girl case, a case on which many government agencies and local police and private eyes had found themselves working. We never did find the girl, but I had met James Coleman. His good friend, a stoic Nigerian named Numi, had been kind enough to send me an email about his passing. I would miss James. He had been a troubled guy, but a great investigator.
I took my thoughts off James and put them onto my poor sister, who didn’t deserve any of this. God, she was going to be so pissed off at me. And, yes, I was already assuming that we would save her, that she was going to get out of this alive, and that I was going to have to spend the next five years apologizing for getting her involved in this mess.
Nothing wrong with thinking positive, Sam, came Allison’s words.
I nodded as we continued along. I led the way, periodically pausing and scouting ahead, occasionally pushing aside an errant tree branch or stepping over thicker bushes crowding the trail.
Soon, I found the red post in the ground, mostly hidden by thick creosote, huckleberry and something that could have been an overgrown fern. The path beyond was mostly nonexistent.
“Here?” asked Kingsley, his eyes shining like twin suns. God, we were such freaks, all of us.
“This is it,” I said, and led the way. Behind me, despite his best efforts to stay quiet, he crashed through the forest like an oversized bear drunk on fermented blueberries.
The trail narrowed further, and I forced myself through the thickets and brambles, snagging my jeans and light jacket. I heard Allison behind me struggling a bit, and behind her, cursing under his voice, was Kingsley. We were a motley, ragtag bunch, an unlikely trio to take down a coven of vampires, or whatever they were called.
Covens are for witches, Sam, came Allison’s words. And Kingsley looks like he could take down a whole forest.
Are you always in my head? I asked, finally spying the clump of boulders through the pines and spruces ahead.
These days, yes. We’re very connected, Sam.
Lucky you, I thought, and sent her a mental wink.
And just like that, the tangle of branches and leaves and thorns and roots gave way to an open space, and a big pile of rocks.
“Here we are,” I said. “The entrance.”
Chapter Forty
The opening was smaller than Kingsley had hoped.
“This could pose a problem,” he said, which, of course, is exactly what I had said.
Kingsley, who’d scampered up onto the rocks with surprising agility, looking more like a hulking, hairy mountain goat than anything else, peered down into the dark hole that was surrounded by piles of boulders. That anyone consistently used this hole as an entry point to anything was beyond me. That my own flesh and blood sister had recently been forced down into this hole was unfathomable.