“We don’t have time to argue,” she told him.
His shoulders lowered and he sighed through his nose. She gave him a long look, and then he moved reluctantly to brace his hands against the footboard. Tana knelt down so that when Aidan lifted the bed, she managed to pull the heavy chain free. She scooted out and Aidan let go. The frame crashed back down, shaking the floorboards.
The vampire shifted, links pulling, the whole rattling thing making an eerie sound that reminded Tana of medieval dungeons on late-night movies.
He lifted his arms, his cuffs still attached.
Aidan tried to say something, but the words were muffled by the gag. Tana guessed that what he had to say was sarcastic.
“There’s a roll of the garbage bags that were taped up on the windows,” she said, poking around the floor at the collection of things the vampires had abandoned. “Maybe if we wrap some of those around you, then even if the blanket slips, you won’t burn. We can duct-tape it together. As long as you don’t mind looking ridiculous.”
The vampire smiled a closemouthed smile.
Tana passed the black bags and the tape to Aidan. Squatting down in the shadows, Aidan began half assing together some makeshift plastic armor for Gavriel. It looked as silly as Tana had promised, even before the blankets.
“If I’m hurt,” Gavriel said as Aidan worked, “you must be very careful.”
“We’ll be careful,” she told him. “Don’t worry.”
“No, Tana, you must listen,” he said. “You must be careful of me.”
It was the first time he’d used her name, and the sound of it in his mouth, said with his odd accent, made it unfamiliar.
“We won’t let you get burned,” she said, turning away to open handbags and stick her fingers into the pockets of jackets, hoping against hope that one of her friends carried a knife. “Even though you’re a vampire and you probably deserve it.”
I’m sorry, she said to each of the dead as she unzipped and unfastened their things. I’m sorry, Courtney. I’m sorry, Marcus. I’m sorry, Rachel. I’m sorry, Jon. I’m sorry I’m alive and you’re dead. I’m sorry I was asleep. I’m sorry I didn’t save you and now I’m taking your things. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. There were no knives or stakes. The only things she found were a length of cord with several religious symbols from around the world knotted on it, including a large evil eye that glittered with crystals, and a small stoppered bottle of rose water with a piece of thorn-covered vine floating in it.
Tana could use all the protection she could get. She took the water and the cord, stuffing them into her purse. Then she picked up Rachel Meltzer’s cell phone. She dialed 911 and chucked it onto the bed.
Outside the door, a floorboard creaked.
“Little mouse,” a voice said through the keyhole. “Don’t you know the more you wriggle, the greater the cat’s delight?”
Aidan made a soft whining sound behind his gag. Tana felt a wave of terror roll over her. It was all-consuming animal fear, vast and incomprehensible. There were things that could think and talk, and they still wanted to kill her and eat her. For a long moment, she couldn’t move.
Then, pushing through the weight of her terror, she looked toward the window, where the first orange streaks of sunset were turning the trees to gold. The dark was coming.
“We have to go,” she told Aidan. He wasn’t as done with covering Gavriel as she would have liked, but they’d run out of time. She lifted the tire iron and swung it at the window, smashing the pane and the wood rails and stiles.
Glass fell around her in a shimmering pile.
“We’re going now!” she yelled. “Now! Aidan, come on. Get Gavriel over here.”
The operator was calling from the phone on the bed, her tinny voice sounding very far away. What is your emergency? Hello, this is 911. What is your emergency?
“Vampires!” Tana shouted, throwing down her boots and tossing the tire iron after them.
Aidan helped Gavriel up, wrenching him to his feet. He was wrapped like some modern mummy, shining strips of duct tape holding together garbage bags and blankets, lurching toward the window. Tana had no idea if it was enough to keep him from being burned, but it would have to do. Already, she was trembling with the urge to abandon all plans and just escape, slither out onto the lawn, and run—
“Aidan, you go out the window first,” Tana said, cutting off her own train of thought, shoving down her fear. “Someone’s got to be down there to take Gavriel’s feet.”
Aidan nodded and swung his leg over the sill. He looked back at her for a moment, as though trying to decide. Then he jumped, landing badly on the roof of the Crown Vic.
Behind Tana there was the sound of splintering wood, as though something very large hit the door. “No,” she said softly. “Oh no. No.”
“Leave me,” said Gavriel.