Fangtabulous (17 page)

I was both relieved and offended on his behalf. Family should give you the benefit of the doubt. On the other hand, at least she was safe.

“Now, ma’am,” Agent Sid said soothingly, “we don’t know for certain that he did anything. But your car was caught on camera at North Shore Medical Center, where an officer was wounded last night, and you say he borrowed it, so, of course, we have to follow up.”

Sid’s gaze transferred from the aunt to Ulric, and there was a
don’t-screw-with-me
look to it. Given his aunt, though, I was guessing Ulric had experience handling himself under that kind of scrutiny.

In fact, Ulric answered all the questions with claims of amnesia. He was knocked out at the hospital and came to in the car—all the absolute truth, if only a fraction of it. Nobody trained to read cues, as I knew Sid and Maya were, could possibly cry foul, though Sid clearly wanted to. The interesting part came next, when Agent Maya pulled out pictures to show Ulric and his aunt.

“Have you seen any of these people before?” Maya asked, fanning the stack out on the table. Bobby’s pic, Marcy’s, and mine must have been from our pre-vamp days when our images could still be captured. I so hoped mine wasn’t from junior year, when my mother forgot to check the airbrushing option to cover up the fat lip I’d gotten from a stray volleyball in gym class.

She and Sid studied Ulric closely as he looked at the pictures. They knew very well that Ulric had met Bobby and me back in New York when I’d infiltrated the goth gang. They were hoping to draw him into a trap.

“Yeah, that’s Geneva … Belton? Bison? Belfry, that was it. I knew her back in New York. Strange girl. And I might have seen him around.” I was guessing he’d indicated Bobby. I wasn’t at the right angle to see. “We didn’t hang. He was a brain.”

“You were smart enough,” his aunt started in on him. “You just didn’t apply—”

“Ma’am,” Sid cut her off, “we’ve got this. So,” he said to Ulric as she huffed her indignation, “you haven’t seen them
recently
?”

Oh crap on a crispy, crumbly cracker. Haunts in History—they’d find out, if they didn’t already know, that we all worked together. They’d assume he was in league with us. Which, of course, he sort of was. We’d put him right in their crosshairs.

I didn’t know exactly what that meant anymore. Back when we’d worked for the Feds and I thought we were on the side of good, I’d have assumed they’d merely put him under surveillance. That was before I’d seen their secret “medical” facilities, with vampires being bled for goth-knew what use of their blood, kept barely alive. Ulric didn’t have any special powers. He could be of no possible use to them. What if they decided he was a liability? What then? We had to hope they viewed him as someone who could lead them to us Federal fugitives—someone worth keeping alive.

I was torn between staying behind to watch Ulric and ghosting out to give the others the bad news. We were going to have to ditch even the phones we had left and buy a bunch of burners. If the Feds knew about Ulric, they’d be tracking all calls to or from his phone. We might as well be carrying around our own personal Bat-signals.

Suddenly, the hip radios on both of the uniformed officers went off simultaneously. Everyone in the room stopped cold, eyes riveted on the radios like they’d suddenly display 3-D video or something. Instead, someone snapped out code, cross-streets, and shock. Definitely shock. Whatever the code meant, it was no run-of-the-mill drunk and disorderly.

“Officer-involved shooting?” one cop said to the other. “What the
hell
is going on in this town?”

“Can we ride along?” Sid asked.

“Knock yourselves out. Just stay out of the way.”

Sid looked like he’d like to spit nails as he ground out, “Sure thing.”

That was my cue. I ghosted out again before anyone could discover me and floated through the night. A weird vibration brought me crashing back into my body across the street from where everyone was exiting Ulric’s house. I stumbled with my sudden materialization, and ducked between two houses, out of sight. The strange vibration continued, and I realized it was Brent’s cell phone in my pocket. I answered quickly before it could go to voicemail.

“Gina, thank God!” Marcy said immediately in my ear. “Everything okay?”

“If you consider an officer down okay.”

“What?” she screeched. “What went on in there?”

“Oh no, not at Ulric’s. The police got a call while I was inside. We’d better follow.”

“Crapcakes with suck sauce.”

My thoughts exactly. I walked until the phone was no longer necessary and I had the others in my sight. Bobby was the first one I looked at, of course. Eyes … still blue. A good sign.

“So, any ideas for playing follow that car?” Brent asked.

As if I’d summoned it, there was a honk out on the street. I smiled. “I think that’s our ride.”

“Shouldn’t we leave him out of it, given the official interest in him?”

“You convince him. I’ll watch. Anyway, I think it’s a little late for that.”

Ulric popped the locks as we approached.

“How’d you convince your aunt to let you take the car again after all that?” I asked as I got in.

“Who says I asked?”

“You mean you stole it?” Bobby asked, horrified. Yup, still
sounded
like Bobby.

Ulric pulled out, barely sparing him a glance. “
No
, stealing is the intent to keep. This is more like borrowing.”

“Without permission,” Bobby pushed.

“Easier to ask forgiveness than permission.” Ulric spared a look away from the street to flash us a wolfish grin.

“You’re not worried about the police and the questioning?” Marcy asked.

“Been there, done that. Have the rap sheet to prove it,” Ulric answered.

“Really?” Marcy sounded impressed. Everyone looked at her in shock.

“Driving without a license,” he offered.

“Oh.”

“I was fourteen.”

“
Oh
.”

“Down girl,” Brent said, putting a hand possessively on her leg.

“Rebel without a clue,” Bobby added.

Jealous, both of them. Stupid boys.

Clearly, all the numbers spouted off on the radio had meant something to Ulric, because he didn’t need to follow the long-gone cops to the scene.

It was chaotic enough that I thought we might not be noticed if we stayed far enough off. Unless Bobby went mental again. We didn’t have any choice but to bring him along and keep watch. We already knew the trunk wouldn’t hold him. I had no idea what would. Since shots had been fired, the scene was attracting a
lot
of attention … including from the Ghouligans, who were standing by. The cameraman held his piece at hip level—not filming, but ready to start at a moment’s notice. They were behind the crime scene tape with the rest of the hoi polloi, but just barely. I was fairly sure I could get the full story out of Ty if I could get close enough, but I didn’t dare risk it.

Ulric tapped someone at the back of the gathered crowd, one of the few who wasn’t talking on his cell phone or holding it above his head hoping to get good and gruesome pics. “What happened?” he asked.

“
Dude
, these guys—cops—stopped a girl for reckless driving and they got into it with her. What I heard, one tried to strangle her and the other had to shoot him to save her. Crazy, right?”

“Is the girl okay?” I asked.

He turned to me and the fumes from his breath nearly knocked me back. I was guessing a bloomin’ onion and some kind of garlic dipping sauce. My eyes watered.

“They took her out in an ambulance instead of a body bag, so yeah, I’m guessing. Medics are still working on the cop.”

I shot a glance at Bobby. He was sniffing, but not in the direction of the onion breath. He was sniffing high. Something in the air, then. I stepped away from the guy, with a mumbled “thanks,” to scent the night myself.

Blood and fire.

Literally. The air smelled of cordite and death. I hoped it wouldn’t trigger bad-Bobby.

“Bobby,” I said gently, “that’s still you in there, right? Stay with us.”

He looked at me, and his eyes were still blue, but deeper, darker … stormier. The
other
was fighting for control. I could see it.

So could Ulric. “We’ve
got
to get all this under control,” he said.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Marcy said.

“Bobby, look at me,” I said.

He did, but not with recognition. I stood up on my tiptoes to grab him around the neck and draw him down to my level so that I could rest his forehead on mine, look him in the eyes. “Bobby, it’s Gina. Your
girlfriend
Gina. I—” I’d said it before in mind-speak, but … but what? If it could save him, keep him whole, what was pride compared to that? “I
love
you. Stay with me. You’re not going anywhere, dammit. Don’t you dare cross me on this.”

“Gina,” someone said. I was so focused on Bobby that I almost missed it. “
Gina
,” Marcy said, more insistently.

I looked up and spotted Ty making his way toward us. Of course. The man missed nothing.

“What do we do?” I asked.

I looked to each one for an answer. Bobby, still fighting his demon, didn’t look back.

The last thing I wanted was for Ty to catch on and call an exorcist.

“We need allies,” Marcy said quietly.

I made a decision. “You all hang back. Watch Bobby. I’ll see what he wants.”

I headed Ty off before he could get to the rest of the group. The others faded back into the crowd.

“There’s a BOLO out for you,” Ty said as he approached.

It took me a second to realize he wasn’t talking about the stringy western tie, but something official, a
Be On The Look-out
.

I shrugged. “Whatever they want me for, I’m innocent. Something weird is going on, so I’m dodging the police just now, but trust me, there’s another side to the story.”

Ty smiled, but his eyes were full of secrets. “You mean the story about how those puncture wounds appeared on the officer’s neck after a commotion at the medical center last night?”

Well, crap.

He waited, like he was looking forward to hearing whatever I came up with that he was fully prepared not to believe. Knowing that, I didn’t even try.

Instead, I lifted my chin in defiance. “You didn’t rat me out. You were standing right over by the cops, right up to the tape line. You could have put them onto the fact that I was here. You didn’t. What is it you want?”

“An exclusive.”

“Come again?”

“Look, I figured you out. I can’t be the only one. It’s only a matter of time before some modern-day Van Helsing comes hunting you. But think about it—vampires are
hot
right now. There’s never been a better time to come out of the closet.”

We’d tried that once. Back in Ohio, where the gang and I had first been vamped, we’d tried to expose the whole thing to the press. The Feds had come in and swept it all under the rug. They were already here in Salem, hot on our trail. Why should I believe that this time would be any different? I asked Ty the same question.

“Because
we
believe, and we won’t cave.”

Sure, until the Feds initiated some kind of search and seizure on the Ghouligan’s equipment or audit on their finances, or pulled out any of the other big guns in their arsenal.

“What would be in it for us?”

I didn’t know what made me ask that. I’d been standing out here for too long already. The cops could notice me at any moment.

“We could help you.”

“How?”

“You tell me.”

I thought about it for a second. “A set of wheels and enough money to disappear.”

“After we get what we want.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll have to talk to my producers. How do I get in touch?”

“I’ll find you.”
Allies
. I tried to focus on that. If Ty really could do what he said … if he could shine a light on supernats and do an exposé on the Federal facilities that exploited them … would things actually get any better, or just go farther underground? Would vamps be the next superstars or would we be hunted like the witches of Salem? Or both?

Ty nodded. “Okay, for now.”

“Did you record the killer cop on your equipment? I mean … do the police know he was possessed?”

“They don’t believe us.”

“Stupid-heads.”

That surprised a laugh out of him.

“One more thing,” I said. “Maybe two.” I was still debating how much to say, but things were moving too quickly for caution. “Do you recognize this?”

I pulled the amulet from my pocket and dangled it before his face. He grabbed for it, and I snatched it away, back into my pocket.

“No. What is it?” he asked.

“Maybe the cause of all the trouble. We’re going to find out, and stop it. If you learn anything or hear about a special Book of Shadows … ”

“I’ll, what, call you? You said
you’d
find
me
.”

Oh, right.

“Leave a message with someone at the Gothic Magic Show. I’ll get it.”

“If you need an expert to take a look at that”—he nodded to my pocket—“you let me know.”

“Thanks, we’ve got our own expert.” I hoped.

I walked away. After about a dozen paces, the others fell in beside me.

“What did he want?” Brent asked.

“He wants to tell our story.”

“You trust him?”

“To tell the story? Yes.” But was that what we wanted, or would it just send us from the frying pan into the fire?

“Okay, so we’ll call that plan H,” Brent said.

“Why H?” Marcy asked.

“For Hell in a Handbasket.”

Bobby was standing quietly … too quietly, one hand raised to gnaw again at his non-existent nails.