I hoped the whole thing was over. So of course I was wrong.
We were binge-watching “Russian Doll.” By episode three, I had no idea what was going on, but I liked the cat that showed up occasionally. And after letting Nerina sleep on our couch, I was just happy to have our apartment back.
“So in this timeline—wait, who is that guy?” I pointed at the screen.
Rachel slugged me. “Just shut up and let it flow.”
“Okay.” I sipped my beer.
I might have fallen asleep.
Then I lurched up. I was sitting on a bed. Not my bed. Not my bedroom. This one had high dressers, a wardrobe, and a flatscreen TV mounted on the wall. Thick gray carpeting on the floor
I stood up and gazed into a mirror. Not my mirror. But at least the face was still me.
I grabbed in my pocket. My phone was already buzzing in my jeans. Rachel. “Tom? What the hell?”
“I don’t—”
Gunshots boomed beyond the door.
What the hell? I flattened myself on the carpet and crawled under the bed. “Track my phone and find out where I am,” I whispered. She’d added an app that could do that instantly. “Call the cops. Call—”
The door burst open. I saw expensive black shoes, and blood dripping on the carpet. I shut my phone off and killed the ringer.
Frantic movement. A lock clicked. The dresser was dragged across the floor and planted in front of the door. More gunshots.
A body dropped to the carpet. Not dead. But not alive either. “Ricardo?”
The vampire blinked. “Jurgen. There you are. I need—help.”
“What the hell?” I poked my head out from under the bed.
Ricardo was bleeding in in his left shoulder, his left arm, and his right leg. Vamps bleed slowly, but he was losing a lot of whatever he had in his veins. “Hi, Tom.”
“What happened to you?”
“Silver-tipped bullets. Your crooks are starting to know about me.” A crooked grin. “Maybe it’s time to move on.”
I rolled forward, sat up, and grabbed his hand. “Get us out of here.”
“I can’t.” He shook his head, coughing blood. “That’s why you’re here.”
Wait, what? “How did I get here?”
“A simple touch. It’s how I got it from the wizard. I gave it to you in case—”
The door pounded against the dresser Ricardo had dragged to block it. It rocked back. It wouldn’t protect us for more than a few moments.
“You son of a—” I grabbed Ricardo’s wrists. “How do I do it? Tap my heels and say, ‘There’s no place like home’?”
He nodded. “Something like that.”
The dresser rocked again. This time it fell over, crashing down onto the floor. I closed my eyes, my heart hammering inside my chest. How did I do this? Come on, come on. Home. Rachel. My bedroom. Or the kitchen. Whatever.
A bullet hit the floor next to me. I let go of Ricardo in a panic and tried to scamper back under the bed.
Someone’s foot kicked my ribs. “Don’t move.”
“Where the hell did he come from?” Another voice. Older, slurred words as if he’d been drinking.
“Kill them both.” A female.
“No!” I lifted my hands. “Wait! I’m Tom Jurgen! Don’t kill anyone!”
Three people. Two men in jeans and T-shirts, one holding a huge revolver. The woman wore slacks and a red sweater, a pearl necklace around her throat.
The two guys looked confused. The one with the handgun looked at me, then Ricardo, then at me again, as if uncertain which one of us to shoot first. “Is he a vampire too? I don’t have—”
“You don’t have to shoot him.” Ricardo rose to his knees, hands behind his neck as if waiting to be cuffed and arrested. “He doesn’t know who you are or where he is. You can let him go.”
The woman looked at me. “Tom Jurgen? I think I’ve heard of you.”
Great. I couldn’t just be well-known in Chicago’s supernatural underworld. Now they knew my name in the real underworld. I bit my lip. “I don’t know who you are.”
“I’m Petra.” She looked me over, deciding how much of a threat I was. Not much, I could see in her eyes. But the fact that she’d told me her name wasn’t a good sign.
Then she shifted to Ricardo. “You’ll just dissolve into dust, won’t you?”
He pressed a hand to the wound in his leg. “It’ll leave a stain.”
Petra shrugged. “I’ll get new carpet.” Back to me. “He’ll be more of a problem.”
“I won’t be a problem! Honest!” I was trembling so hard I was about to fall over even before they shot me.
But Petra wasn’t paying any attention. “Kill the vamp, Carl. We’ll deal with him after.”
No! I looked at Ricardo. He stared at Carl. The handgun rose up, pointing straight at his chest.
So I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers. There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like—
Home.
“Tom!” Rachel wrapped her arms around me so tight I couldn’t breathe for a moment. Then she slugged my shoulder. “You asshole! Where were you? What happened?”
“I don’t—” I was shivering, and not just from the jump. “Ricardo. I don’t know—they’re going to kill him.”
“Hang on.” She leaned over and grabbed her phone. “Anita? He’s back. I can’t—hang on.” She switched to speaker. “Talk.”
“It’s a woman named Petra. And two guys with silver-tipped bullets.” I gasped. “They’re going to kill him.”
“Okay. Rachel tracked your phone.” Sharpe’s voice was raspy. “But it’s a house out in the suburbs, so it’ll be a while. Your vamp friend probably isn’t going to be there.”
“Not exactly my friend.” I rubbed my eyes. “I’ll explain later. Just tell them—they can say shots fired. They’ve got to be up to something or Ricardo wouldn’t have been there.”
“Oh, we’ll talk tomorrow.” Sharpe hung up.
I sprawled on the couch, still catching my breath. Rachel stroked my shoulder. “You need something? Water? Coke? Beer?”
“Water. Right now.” I shook uncontrollably for half a minute, then managed to sit up when Rachel pressed a cold bottle of water into my hand. “They were going to—they’ve probably already killed him. I just—ran.” I gulped half the bottle down. Then I started to cry.
For once Rachel didn’t slug me. Instead she put her arms around me gently and held me while I wept. “I’m glad you did.”
My phone buzzed at 8:30 the next morning. I rolled over in bed and grabbed it. Sharpe. “Hi.”
“That was a good tip.” Sharpe sounded almost cheerful. “That house was a major fentanyl distribution center. It’s the biggest haul those suburban cops have ever seen.”
I sat up. I’d slept for maybe two hours. “Did they get Petra and her friends?”
“Didn’t have to. They were dead when the boys and girls got there. Severe blood loss. Wounds in the neck. All three.”
What? I untangled my legs from the covers while Rachel stirred. “What about Ricardo?” They were seconds away from pulling the trigger when I fled
“No trace.” She laughed. “I think we both know never to bet against a vampire. Talk to you later.”
“Yeah.” I set my phone down.
“What?” Rachel rubbed my shoulder.
“They didn’t kill Ricardo. He killed them. Somehow.” I grabbed my water bottle. “So I didn’t just leave him to die.”
A few minutes after sundown I called Anemone. She hadn’t heard from Ricardo. She did ask for another date. I gave her a rain check.
Then, of course, like an annoying telemarketing call, Ricardo showed up in our living room as Rachel and I were eating dinner. “Hello, Tom. Sorry to interrupt.”
Rachel jumped up. “Is that—?” She smiled and rubbed a napkin over her lips. “Ricardo? Hi. I’m Rachel.”
He smiled. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“She’s my girlfriend.” I tried to focus on priorities as I stood up. “How did you—they were going to kill you.”
“They got sloppy.” He smiled. “When you disappeared, they didn’t know what to do. That gave me just enough time=. Fortunately I got enough blood from them to heal my wounds.”
“I’m sorry I ran out on you.”
He shook his head. “That’s what I wanted. I apologize for dragging you there. I put the charm on people sometimes so I can draw them to me in case I get into trouble. Like last night. I couldn’t shift myself out, but I knew you could.”
“Except I ran away.”
Ricardo nodded. “I don’t blame you. By the way—” He held out his hand.
“What?” I was nervous.
“I can take it away. Unless you want it?”
“No!” I was a little too quick. “I mean—no, thanks.”
We shook hands.
I felt the tingle again. Then it was gone. The tingle, at least. I couldn’t tell about the charm. Maybe I’d try later.
“Can you stay for dinner?” Rachel pulled out a chair. “It’s just spaghetti, but—”
“No, thank you.” He smiled. “Like I said, it’s time to move on. I’m sure I’ll find plenty of good hunting somewhere else.”
“Well . . . good luck. Be careful.”
Ricardo nodded. “Love to Anemone.”
Then he walked into the living room and vanished.
“He’s hot.” She twisted some spaghetti on her fork. “You should have told me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sorry we can’t double date. Me and Anemome, you and Ricardo, maybe Georgeanne—”
She kicked me under the table. “Shut up and eat your dinner.”
# # #
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