The Becoming

Chapter Twenty

A dreadful conviction builds in my chest. Somehow, whatever happened to David happened because of me.

I can't explain why I feel this way. I just know it's true, the same way I know I'm staring at a smear of David's blood.

I try to reason it through. There could be another explanation. David may have met with some kind of nasty accident. I snatch up my cell and call Avery, telling him what I've found and asking him if he'll check the hospitals close to downtown just in case.

He says he'll do it right away and to meet him at his house, so I take David's keys from the sideboard and race back to my car. All the way to La Jolla, my mind reels with the possibility that I've brought about another disaster, this time to my very best friend, as a direct result of my new “gift."

Gift. First the fire, then David. Christ, where do I go to return such a gift?

"I don't even want my money back,” I shout to the heavens. “Just make my life the way it was before."

But then you wouldn't have the chance to know me, would you?

First there's the shock of recognition. Then impatience. Why, it's Casper. Back out of the blue.

The voice chortles a little laugh. Casper?

Forget it. I doubt you'd understand. Where are you?

Look in the rearview mirror.

There's a beat-up old pickup behind me. I can't see who's driving through the glare of the sun on the windshield.

What do you want?

A thank you would be nice. I did bring your car to you the other night.

Thank you. Now forgive me if I don't stop to chat. I'm a little preoccupied.

I know. Your friend has been taken.

That almost provokes me into slamming on the brakes. I know I can move fast enough to grab him before he—

Don't try it. I'm older than you. By about one hundred and forty years. Trust me, I'm faster.

I grip the wheel in frustration. If you know something that can help David and you don't tell me, I don't care how much older you are. I'll hunt you down and kill you.

I know you will. I don't know who has him. That's the truth.

Then what good are you? Why are you here?

To tell you to be careful. You're going through many changes right now. You haven't had the time to adjust the way you should.

Things are skewed. Your instincts may be off.

Is that supposed to help?

It's the best I can do.

Then thanks for nothing.

There's no answer, and when I check the rearview mirror, the truck is gone.

Avery is waiting for me at his front door when I pull up. He shakes his head and ushers me inside with a hand on the small of my back.

"He's not in any of the local hospitals. And Chief Williams checked for accident reports, too. None involving David. I'm sorry, Anna."

My anger is quickly becoming scalding fury.

"It's Donaldson, isn't it? He took David to have some kind of leverage on me. But why? What does he want?"

Again, the shake of the head. “I can't answer that. Donaldson is an unknown quantity. If you're right about his starting the fire, though, I think it's a safe bet he wants you out of the way. I suppose it makes sense, in a twisted sort of way. You are his only victim who survived. He may perceive you as a threat."

I start to pace, stomach and mind churning. He must have known I would go back to the cottage. Why didn't he wait for me there? Why start the fire? Why take David?

Avery doesn't answer. He doesn't know. I read it in his thoughts. He feels as helpless as I do. Worse. There's hopelessness there, too.

Don't do that, I scold. David has to be all right. I'll find him. If Donaldson thinks taking him is a way to get to me, he's right.

What are you going to do?

That elicits a frown. I don't know. You know the vampire community. Is there a place where a rogue would go to seek refuge?

Avery probes his mind, considering and rejecting several possibilities, until one surfaces that makes him pause. Yes, I think I do, though this may be a long shot. But didn't you and David think he was on his way to Mexico when you caught up with him?

I nod. His wife found a note he'd written to his girlfriend. He'd made arrangements with somebody across the border to put him up for a while. She gave the note to the police, but there wasn't enough information to track him down.

Avery smiles, as if I've confirmed his suspicion. He crosses to the library with me following closely in his wake, reaches for an Atlas and thumbs it open.

He jabs a finger at the page. He may be here. Right across the border. The badlands. There's a village that's become a hideout for desperados, both human and vampire. Even the Federales fear patrolling there. It's called Beso de la Muerte by the locals.

I sift that through my limited knowledge of Spanish. Kiss of Death?

He nods, pointing to a place half way between Tijuana and Mexicali.

There's nothing out there, I protest. Just desert.

Not exactly. There's a ghost town—or at least that's what it looks like to outsiders. Ramshackle buildings and an abandoned mineshaft. But in the mine, there exists an underground community of misfits who live like moles in the tunnels. Their leader is an outlaw called Culebra.

Rattlesnake. Charming. And they live in the tunnels?

Avery nods again. They have supplies brought in on an abandoned railroad spur. It's all funded by one of Mexico's biggest drug dealers. He provides the goods in return for the occasional use of the place.

You mean, like a hideout?

More like a dumpsite. When he sends someone there, they generally don't come back.

So, how does Donaldson fit into this delightful scenario?

Avery keeps his thoughts deceptively composed. I'm not sure he does, of course, but it fits.

Of course it does. A setup like that would be the perfect place for Donaldson, especially if he's after me. I'd follow him, and he could dispose of me—and David—and no one would be the wiser.

I look up at Avery. “It's what you're afraid of, isn't it?"

It's what you should be afraid of, he says. Donaldson is cunning and cruel. If he's solicited the help of that community, you might not be able to protect yourself.

What choice do I have? David is more than a business partner; he's a friend.

He's mortal, Anna.

He lets a moment pass, sifting my emotions through his head, feeling my outrage. He holds up a hand as if to ward off the anger I've directed at him.

I'm just saying that you don't have to do this, not really. You could wait for Donaldson to come back here, where you're in your element, and not meet him in his.

And in the meantime, what happens to David? I pick up his ambivalence, and it notches my fury higher. I will bring David back.

And if this attitude of yours toward mortals is indicative of the vampire community, I don't want to be a part of it.

You have no choice. His eyes darken like angry thunderclouds. You are vampire. You don't seem to grasp that. Your realities are no longer founded in the fate of the mortal world. You have a higher calling.

I feel the rage erupt. Higher calling? One of my vampire cousins with this higher calling just burned my house down and kidnapped my best friend. Avery, we're bloodsucking freaks. Forgive me if I feel more allegiance to David than to Donaldson—or to you.

He shakes his head, but there's no acrimony, only a kind of sad resignation. You don't understand. I appreciate that. This is all so new to you. Though, trust me when I say that as time goes by, what I'm telling you now will make sense. Donaldson is indeed a freak. And he must be dealt with. But it's because of the damage he is doing to our community, not because of your personal vendetta.

Is that supposed to make a difference to me?

Maybe not now. But you must learn to separate your feelings for mortals from what is most important. And that is the preservation of your true family.

Enough. I wave a hand. “I'm wasting time. Can you draw me a map to this place?"

Avery locks me in a gaze for a long moment, gauging any chance of reason or logic—his, of course—making a dent in my determination to go after David. He correctly reads that there is none. The silence grows tight with tension until he breaks it with a noisy sigh.

All right. I'll draw you a map. But getting to this place won't be easy. You'll have to take a four-wheel drive vehicle. Do you have one?

I immediately think of David's Hummer. I am listed as co-owner on his registration for business purposes. But that would be too high profile a vehicle to take into Mexico.

I agree, Avery chimes in. I have an Explorer. You can use that.

What if the Border patrol asks to see the registration? It's against their laws to take a borrowed vehicle into Mexico.

I'll take care of that. I have friends on the Border Patrol. I'll alert them and they'll see you're not bothered.

Or you could go with me.

Avery smiles. I wish I could go with you. I would feel much better if I were there to protect you. But I'm a doctor. I have patients who depend on me. I can't just pick up and disappear for a few days.

"I don't want you to go for protection,” I snap angrily. “I can take care of myself. I want you to go because you know about these things and I don't."

Vampire things, you mean?

Of course. Human vermin I can deal with.

Avery shakes his head. “Well, if you want to wait for a few days—"

Forget it. Just draw the damn map.

Avery doesn't respond to my rancor. He traces a route for me to follow, noting access roads that will lead me to the town. We don't communicate again except for the occasional clarification of a turnoff point or the description of a physical landmark to guide me along the abandoned roadway. When he's done, he reaches inside a desk drawer and pulls out a set of keys.

To the Explorer, he says.

I take the keys and gather up the map. Anything else you can tell me that might help? Can I transform myself into a wolf or evaporate into a puff of smoke?

He smiles. Not yet.

I turn to go. His voice stops me at the doorway.

Be careful, Anna. I want you back safely.

Thanks, Avery. But it would mean more if you wanted David back, too.

He doesn't reply to that.