MOCKINGBIRD INN

We were living in Riverside, smog capital of the west. No one bothered us, and we had settled into the local Community fairly well. Ian had invited me and Alessandro to dinner, and I needed a new dress. There was no way I was going to Ian's mansion in anything I had. So I waited until dark and drove to the Mall.

My mom used to say that, whenever she had money, there wasn't anything she wanted to buy. That was the mall that night. There weren't many people, and the stores had lots of nothing. There weren't even any good feeding prospects at the health food store. After an hour of hanging around I headed over to check out music. Maybe I could find some tunes.

I was scoping the New Releases when I heard, "Tasha?"

I looked around. A couple of kids, some girls checking out a picture of a guy singer, the dude at the counter flipping the pages of stacked magazines.

"Tasha."

There, right next to me, was a skinny, dark-haired girl. She had huge dark eyes and circles under them that she'd tried to hide with makeup. Her hair was long and curly, although it looked like she hadn't washed it in a while. Her clothes were clean, but dingy, the way they get when you wash them at cheap laundromats. She smiled at me. "Remember me, Tasha? Cheryl!"

"From the liquor store?"

"Uh-huh."

Alessandro liked us to have jobs so no one asked too many questions. For a while I worked at an all-night liquor and convenience store, which basically meant you sold booze'n'diapers, or booze'n'chips, or booze'n'cat food. Cheryl and I worked the graveyard shift, which was funny because the customers we got looked more like vampires than Alessandro and I did.

"Tasha, I got to talk to you."

I looked at her eyes. They were brown, but with a film over them that made them look dull and flat. I'd seen that look before. "OK. But not here."

"OK." Overhead the PA announced that the Mall was closing soon. "Shit," she said, desperate.

"We can go someplace else." I wanted to know how she got changed .

"I can't," she wailed. "Darren'll be home and he'll kill me if I'm not there."

"Who's Darren?" He wasn't one of us, or at least wasn't one of the ones Alessandro and I knew. Maybe he'd come in from out of town, and was trying to set up his territory. Alessandro wouldn't like that very much, and I didn't like it either. We didn't need competition.

"He's the guy I'm with. He dropped me off here and he'll kill me if I'm not where he can find me."

"Let's go to your place," I said. "We can talk there. And when Darren shows up, I'll go."

"OK." She sounded relieved and scared at the same time. "I'm staying at the Mockingbird Inn."

I damn near lost it. Mockingbird Inn is the queen of skid row, the place where hookers and druggies and dealers hang out. The place never sees any other business, although some Baptists were in town for a convention once and got booked there. They had hookers at their doors all night, and junkies asking for fixes.

I tried to avoid staring at her. I didn't want to scare her anymore than she was already. But damn, she looked so different. I remembered her as being healthy in the typical California girl way. Not a bimbo, but a fitness freak, with the kind of glow that meant she was full of good blood. I liked her, but she was a little hard to work with; I usually had to drink before I spent any time with her. Now, scrawny and ragged, she looked like a zombie.

I drove her home. It was only a few miles away, but it might as well have been on the moon. It was a million miles away in terms of class. When I pulled off the freeway I could see the garish neon and plastic signs of the cheap motels all up and down the street. There were a couple of bars and a gas station still open, and the hookers and druggies were standing around them like moths at a streetlight. I didn't want anything to do with this place. I hoped Cheryl would change her mind and say, Let's go somewhere else. But no.

The sign said MKBIR IN, with burned-out letters in between. There were some big guys standing near the driveway, and Cheryl kind of scrunched down in the seat. I drove past them, and they looked me over as I went to park. "It's upstairs," said Cheryl from the bottom of the car. "24."

I parked near a light. She slid out, staying low. I didn't take any chances and clicked the car alarm on. Cheryl was already halfway up the stairs. They were lit by a dim yellow light that didn't really illuminate anything. I followed her up, careful to avoid stepping in any of the liquids puddled on the steps.

She unlocked the door, flipped on the light. "Come in."

24 was big, and at one time was probably pretty nice. All of the furniture was beat up and used, with worn-out corners and cigarette burns. There was a little rickety metal bookcase leaning against the wall, covered with genuine wood-grain vinyl. It held a bunch of fat romance novels and a couple of little animals. The dresser's mirror was cracked, and the nasty avocado-green shag carpet had a couple of big stains on it. I wondered if there'd ever been chalk outlines around them.

On the dresser was a little TV with a hanger taped on it for an antenna, a boombox with a stack of CDS, and an old microwave with dials instead of buttons. On top of it were a few cans of food and a couple of little bowls. Right next to the dresser was a plastic ice chest that leaked. A dark stain slurred the carpet, probably the first time that carpet had been cleaned in years.

Cheryl hung up her coat in the doorless closet. I could see other clothes hanging there, hers and some men's things. "Just a minute," she said apologetically. I watched her open the door to the bathroom. "It's OK, baby," I heard her say. "Momma's home."

I felt sick. She'd left a kid in the bathroom while she was gone! She was changed and had a kid, too. There was no way she could deal with this alone. I had to get her out of here.

"Here we are." She backed out of the bathroom. "It's OK, Cookie. It's Momma's friend. See?"

She wasn't holding a baby, but a little brown and white puppy. It whined and licked her hand. "I have to feed her," said Cheryl. "I leave her in the bathtub when I'm gone, 'cause there's no one to take her out. Isn't she sweet?"

"Yeah. She's cute." Christ, I was relieved it wasn't a kid.

Cheryl dumped some puppy food into a bowl and put it on the floor. "I found her when I was cleaning. They let me stay here for free as long as I clean the other rooms. Someone left her in 12, so I took her. She's cute, huh?" She hugged the puppy and then put her near the food. The dog dove in like it hadn't eaten in a year. "Darren hates her. He hates everything. I don't see why he cares. He doesn't take care of her or anything."

"Where'd you meet Darren?"

"At this bar. I was there with some people and he came in. He's so cute, Tasha, you know? He wanted me. He took me to all these nice places, got me dinner and everything. He made me feel so good." She sat down on the edge of the bed. "I don't feel anything now. Nothing. I mean, I've tried everything, and nothing works anymore." She started to cry. "I thought, maybe I've got cancer, or AIDS, or I'm pregnant. But I'm not. I try to eat, and I keep barfing it back up. I've lost all this weight, and now that I'm real skinny, I don't look good. I'm scared."

"Don't you know what happened?"

"I do now. Darren told me what he is. I started looking for you guys, but you'd moved. I didn't believe you when you said you were vampires." She looked up at me. Her eyes were dark, like black holes into some kind of dark eternity. She was a lost soul, all right, the kind that could be destroyed with a cross because it didn't know enough to believe in anything.

The puppy waddled over and licked my foot. I picked her up and put her on the bed. She ran right up to Cheryl and started licking. Cheryl scooped her up and clung to her.

"Cheryl, think. When did this happen?"

She rocked back and forth, clinging to the puppy. "Darren said he wanted me to stay here, 'cause these guys were looking for him. He said he needed me to do what he said, no matter what. I said OK, and he bit me. I was so scared, and he wouldn't let me go. I didn't want him to bite me, but he wouldn't let me go. You know?"

"Yeah." I knew, all right. Darren was one hell of a guy.

"Anyway, I stayed in bed for days. One day I woke up and he was gone. I felt real sick and went outside. The sun made me feel worse, so I stayed in. When Darren came back he was pissed off 'cause Cookie crapped on the rug. He let me have it and said he'd bite her, too." She clutched the puppy to her. "He scared me. But I couldn't leave. I haven't been able to eat since."

"When was that?"

She looked at her hands. "Maybe two weeks ago. I don't know any more."

Two weeks. She was in real trouble if I didn't get her to feed soon. "Cheryl, listen. You have to have blood. Now. If you don't, you'll get real sick. OK?"

"What about Cookie? What about Darren?"

"Take Cookie with you. I've got to get you to someone who can help you while there's still time. If you stay like this, I won't be able to help you at all. OK? Come on."

She looked around the place. "But my stuff--"

"You don't need any of this junk. Come on. We have to get you help."

"But Darren--"

I lost it. "Darren's the reason you're in this mess! He doesn't give a damn about you! You got that? He doesn't love you!"

She stared at me like I'd just staked her. "What?"

"You heard me. Come ON!" I stood and started for the door. I wanted her out of there before that idiot Darren showed up.

The door slammed open. "What the hell's going on?"

I stopped. In the door was a huge guy, with massive muscles and a black leather jacket. He shoved me to one side and went for the bed. "What the hell you got that damn dog on the bed for? Get over here, bitch!"

"I'm sorry, Darren!" screamed Cheryl. "She didn't do anything!"

I ran between him and Cheryl. Darren grabbed me, throwing me against the wall. The little pictures fell down. I felt like I'd been crushed. He reached for the puppy, trying to pry her away.

"No!" Cheryl screamed, crushing Cookie to her.

I grabbed the chair next to me. I had to stop this idiot. I swung the chair high, over my head, and slammed it onto Darren's skull.

The whole chair broke, but I still had one leg. He turned and charged at me, screaming and cursing. I didn't fool around. I ran right at him, using that leg like a spear. It slammed into him, tearing right through the shirt and into his chest. Blood shot all over me.

"No!" Cheryl stood up. "Darren!"

He shrieked and clawed at me, the leg, the air. He staggered back and collapsed, panting, on the bed.

"Come on!" I grabbed at Cheryl.

"Don't touch me! You killed him!" She turned and ran out into the night.

I looked at Darren. He'd taken her life, screwed her up, starved her, kept her at this hell hole so he could hide, and wanted to kill her puppy. And the dumb girl was so messed up she wanted to stay with him. I hoped the sun burned him right into the rug. I left him and ran out after Cheryl.

I didn't see her anywhere, not in the bushes, the stairs, around the pool. No Cheryl. I got my car and drove out slowly. I even asked the guys at the driveway if they'd seen her. I normally wouldn't have, but I was desperate. They came over to the car, whistling and screwing around. I opened the window to talk to them, but the blood on me scared them off.

I drove around the block a few times. No Cheryl. I had to find her before she fanged some kid at the gas station, or got into a car with somebody and bit them. She was scared, too scared to stay still and had no idea where to go for help. It was sheer coincidence that I'd run into her at the Mall. I wondered how many places she'd been, looking for help.

I'd been hungry like that once, and I knew how desperate it would make her. I didn't know what her Bloodline was, what her vampire ancestors were. She wouldn't know, either. It would take someone like Alessandro to tell that.

I hoped she didn't try and fang the puppy. The blood wouldn't do her any good; it isn't the same as human blood. If she could change form, she could digest it. But Cheryl didn't even know how to feed.

I couldn't do this alone. I had to get help if I wanted to find her. Alessandro would know what to do, and Ian could call in his minions. If she was around, they'd find her.

Alessandro insisted that he drive to Ian's. I watched for Cheryl everywhere, hoping I'd see her at a bus stop or in front of a liquor store. No way. She could be anywhere by now; she could have gotten picked up by the cops, or collapsed in someone's yard. Or she could have been picked up by someone, and be halfway to Arizona or Vegas or TJ.

Ian welcomed us at the house. He was a little afraid of Alessandro; he never made us bow to him and kiss his big ruby and emerald rings. He kept the place furnished in a flamboyant mix of Watteau, Fragonard and Dracula. Black velvet covered the walls, setting off his collection of paintings. There was a skeletal orchestra that played minuets while he fed; music, he said, aided digestion.

We joined him and some of his friends in a feast. We sat at the big walnut table, napkins in hand.

In the middle was a huge silver platter, with a black satin table cloth tented over it. With a flourish

Ian swept the cloth away, revealing a naked guy of about twenty. Several of the others applauded. Ian blessed the feast and the guests, and we began to feed.

I don't know what it was, but he reminded me of Cheryl. The same brown hair, the same healthy skin, the same dead sheen to the eyes. I couldn't touch him. I went into the other room, where the sound of Hayden drowned out the feast.

I waited for Alessandro to finish. I knew he wouldn't let me take Cheryl in; he didn't like anyone to know where we lived. Maybe I could get him to have Ian look after her. She'd be fine in a place like this, where she didn't have to hunt.

And Darren. We didn't need that kind. I wondered what he thought he was doing, unless he was torturing her by starving her, and when she was completely helpless, feed her just enough to keep her dependent. God, I hoped the sun finished him.

After a while Alessandro came in, sated from the feast. He held me close. I didn't need to say anything.

We stayed at Ian's until early the next morning, conversing with the others. Just before sunrise Ian came for Alessandro. They spoke for a few minutes, and Alessandro returned to me. "One of his people thinks that she is in the Fairmont Park."

I followed him to the car. The sun was just coming up. That never bothered Alessandro; he just put on shades and kept going. I live on a twelve-hour clock; I have to sleep twelve if I want to function for twelve. Right now I had an hour or so before I needed to rest. But Cheryl was my friend, and I was responsible for letting her get away. I was going to stick this out no matter how long it took.

We drove across Riverside to Fairmont Park, which was right in the middle of a bunch of fine homes from the 20's. There were some rusty old locomotives there, along with some beat-up tables and chairs, and a murky, brackish lake. I spotted Roberto, one of Ian's friends, wandering around, and pointed him out to Alessandro. Roberto came over and half bowed. "Master Alessandro, I believe I have found her."

The grass was still wet from dew and the whole place felt suspended between night and day. We passed the old trains and crossed some gray concrete. Overhead the trees were starting to blow in the wind and the birds were singing. Roberto stopped. "There."

Cheryl was sitting at one of the benches, leaning back against the wood slats. The sun already bathed it in light. Her head was on her shoulder and her hair ruffled in the breeze.

We closed in on her. She didn't move. I heard Alessandro say something in Spanish and my guts went cold. Roberto led us around to her front and we stopped. Alessandro went to her, gently laying his hand on her cheek. He touched her head and it fell forward. "She is dead," he said quietly. "She waited for the sun. She could be revived, but I fear her heart is not for it. She wished for death. Poor, faithless girl. It is better this way."

Roberto swore and ran away.

"What is this?" asked Alessandro, lifting her shirt.

Cookie crawled out, her coat stiff with blood. "That's her puppy," I said .

Alessandro gently picked her up. "She has been bitten."

I looked. There, on her neck, were deep wounds. She was barely breathing. Alessandro put Cookie down. The puppy collapsed on Cheryl's lap, weakly licking at her fingers. After a minute she was still.

We left the park. Soon enough they'd find Cheryl, and we shouldn't be there. The sun was up, and I needed to rest.

XXX