Blue Bloods

CHAPTER 25

They let her keep the jeans! Schuyler was thrilled.

The shoot ended late, way past the six o'clock end time, and by the time they were done it was dark outside. She said her good-byes in a flurry of air kisses, waving madly to everyone at the corner. The merry gang dispersed—Anka and the stylists disappearing in a Town Car, the hair and makeup crew into taxicabs, Jonas and his assistants to the nearest bar.

"Do you want a ride uptown?" Bliss asked. "My driver should be here shortly."

Schuyler shook her head. "Thanks, but no. I think I'm going to walk a bit." It was a nice night, cloudless and brisk.

Bliss shrugged. She was already sucking on a cigarette, and in her tight T-shirt, new jeans, and purple monkey-fur jacket, she looked every inch an off-duty model. "Suit yourself. Don't forget, mi casa, tonight at ten."

Schuyler nodded. She hugged the plastic bag with her new jeans tightly. She was back to wearing her many layers—a black T-shirt over a black turtleneck over a black jersey skirt over a pair of gray jeans and white-and-black striped stockings, with her beat-up black combat boots. She meant to walk east toward Seventh Avenue, and continue to stroll up through Times Square, Lincoln Center, and the Upper West Side on the way home.

As she walked east toward Tenth Avenue, she felt a little wary. The streets were completely deserted; the warehouse buildings that housed new art galleries were dark and forbidding. The streetlights flickered and there were puddles on the ground from a recent rainstorm. Schuyler suddenly wished she had taken Bliss up on the offer of a ride. Feeling anxious, she began walking faster toward the well-lit avenues. If she could only get to Ninth, with its coffeeshops and boutiques, she knew she would be safe.

She tried to shake the fear off, thinking it was merely paranoia from the dark—and who was she to be afraid of the dark anyway? She was a vampire! She laughed ghoulishly, but she felt a prickle of fear just the same.

She couldn't deny it anymore.

Someone was following her.

Or some thing…

She broke out into a quick run, her heart beating wildly in her chest, and her breath coming in quick gasps. She turned around…

A shadow against a wall.

Her shadow. She blinked. Nothing. There was nothing and no one. You're just paranoid, you're just paranoid, she told herself. She forced herself to walk slower, to show herself she wasn't afraid.

Only a few more steps to the haven of Ninth Avenue… so close… she turned around one more time… and felt something reach around and grab her by the neck. She struggled to breathe, to open her eyes, to kick away, but she couldn't scream; it was as if something had locked her throat and was squeezing it tightly. A dark, giant creature… tall and strong as a man, a dense and noxious presence with… crimson eyes, crimson eyes with silver pupils shining in the dark, staring at her… boring into her brain… and then she felt it…

No! No! No!

She refused to believe it, but yes, there were fangs pricking her skin—but how could it be? She was one of them! What was this?

With all the strength she had, she pushed back at her attacker—but she flailed, scratching at nothing it was like the wind had her in its grip—it was no use, the fangs came down stabbing her neck—her blood, her bright blue blood, seeping the life out of her… She was dizzy and confused… she was going to pass out—when a blue-black blur suddenly materialized, barking madly.

Beauty!

The bloodhound snarled and leaped at the dark creature. The monster released her, and Schuyler staggered onto the dirty sidewalk, clutching the side of her neck. Her bloodhound ran in circles, snarling and barking loudly. The dark creature disappeared.

Beauty was still barking when Schuyler finally opened her eyes. Someone was holding her up.

"Are you okay?" Bliss Llewellyn asked.

"I don't know," Schuyler said, still in shock. She tried to regain her balance, leaning heavily on Bliss's shoulder, her legs still shaking.

"Easy," Bliss soothed.

Beauty was still barking, with loud, angry howls, and growling at Bliss.

"Heel, Beauty, heel, that's Bliss, she's my friend," Schuyler said, putting an arm out to soothe the trembling dog. But the dog wouldn't stop. Beauty ran around Bliss, nipping her ankles.

"Ouch!"

"Beauty, that's enough!" Schuyler said, taking Beauty's collar roughly. Where had she come from? How had she known? Schuyler looked into the dog's intelligent black eyes. You saved me, she thought.

"What happened?" Bliss asked again.

"I don't know. I was just walking when something attacked me from behind…"

"I heard you," Bliss said, her voice shaking. "I was waiting over there, outside the studio, for my car, when I heard you screaming down the block, so I ran over to help."

Schuyler nodded, still dazed from the experience. Her bag and its contents were scattered around her—her books open and soaking in the puddles, her prized new jeans crumpled in a heap.

"What do you think it was?" Bliss asked, helping Schuyler gather her things and putting them back in her leather bag.

"I don't know… it seemed… unreal," Schuyler stammered. She zipped up her bag and shouldered it roughly. She was still a bit unsteady on her feet, but holding Beauty's leash made her feel better somehow. She felt stronger around the bloodhound, more substantial.

Already, the memory of the attack was staring to fade— a dark mass, with shining red eyes and silver pupils—and teeth, teeth sharp enough to puncture skin—fangs—just like hers—but when her fingers touched the side of her neck, there was nothing there anymore. Not a wound. Not even a scratch.