The Becoming

Chapter Twenty-Six

I have no intention of sitting idly by, whiling away the hours until Williams gets back to me. But what to do? My first impulse is to call Avery, tell him everything that happened and see how he reacts.

But he is a doctor and there are patients who depend on him.

Reluctantly, I decide to drive out to Mission Beach and see what progress has been made on the investigation into the arson. I say reluctantly because I'm not sure I'm up to facing the devastation again. But it beats sitting alone at the condo or at Avery's wallowing in my fear. It's not much, but it gets me moving.

There's yellow police tape all around the property. There is a notice posted against the gate advising that this is a crime scene and to keep out. And yet, there are two teenage boys poking around the debris. I literally have to take a deep breath, no easy trick for a vampire, to calm myself before I approach them.

"Mind telling me what you guys are doing?"

The taller of the two turns to face me. He has a silver frame in his hands, what's left of a picture of my grandmother. “What's it to you?” he demands, puffing his chest like a preening pigeon.

I snatch the frame out of his hand and quick as lightning, back him into the fence. His face flashes a warning, but I'm quicker. I grab the fist he's aimed at my head and force it back to his side, squeezing his fingers together until he yelps in pain.

I wave the picture at him. “This is my property. I want you and your little friend off of it."

His “friend” joins us now, as full of himself as his partner was before I put the hurt on him. With no conscious effort on my part, I drop the frame, reach back, and jerk him into the fence, too. I've got both of them, squirming like toads and hurling invectives at me with a fervor I haven't heard since I taught high school. It makes me smile.

"Is there a problem here, ma'am?"

A cop on a bike with the face of an angel.

Who says there's never a cop around when you want one? I shove both boys out the gate. “Found these guys disturbing the crime scene. Since it used to be my home, I took umbrage."

The cop says a few words into the radio at his collar. Then he slip cuffs from his belt and locks the two kids around the fence post.

“I'll take it from here. I've just called for a car. Are you all right?"

I've knelt down to retrieve the picture frame. There's nothing left of the photograph except scorched paper and melted glass. I'm as close to tears as I was in Avery's car right after the fire.

The cop seems to sense my distress. He puts a gentle hand on my elbow and helps me to my feet. “I'll make sure we keep a closer eye on your property, but you might want to hire a private security company. At least then you know there will be someone here twenty-four/seven."

I thank him and assure him I'll do just that.

Then the patrol car arrives and the two kids are bundled off. The bike cop resumes his patrol, leaving me alone to hug the frame and stare out at the ocean through tear-blurred eyes.

Sometimes the sorrow is overwhelming. It takes effort to fight it back. But David is still out there and I doubt I'm going to get much help from Williams, even if he calls me tonight and tells me it's all set. I won't believe David is safe until I see it for myself.

Which means I need an alternate plan of my own. I settle myself on the sea wall at the end of my block and force myself to think.

I make a mental list of what I know is true.

Number one—I know I'm a vampire because of Donaldson. So far, not such a good thing for me.

Number two—I'm pretty sure Donaldson had nothing to do with either the fire or David's kidnapping. I can't be positive of that, of course. I can never be positive because Donaldson is dead. I just have to conclude that he was too scared to lie back at Beso de la Muerte .

Number three—Why is Donaldson dead? Another Revenger attack? Did they follow me or was Donaldson the target all along?

How can I find out?

Number four—I neither like nor trust Williams. He could easily have put that cop on my tail the other night after Avery's party. If he did, he wants me out of the way pretty badly. Our conversation this afternoon confirms that. He didn't succeed in getting me killed, so getting me out of town is the next best thing.

Which leads me to number five—I need to be wary of anything he suggests. However, getting David released is my first priority. I'll pretend to do whatever he says to protect David. Once he's released, though, all bets are off. I want to know why Williams thinks I present such a threat. And to whom?

Number six—What part does Avery play in all this?

That's the question, isn't it? Williams said Avery “had feelings for me.” Obviously, he didn't think that was a good thing. Is that why Williams wants me gone? Am I upsetting some kind of balance of power among the vamp bigwigs? If so, why didn't he just tell me?

I could easily have put his mind at ease on that score. I'm not a political animal nor do I aspire to become one.

The sun is high in the sky. I glance at my watch. Noon. I have no desire for food, but a little company would be nice and I need to get a phone book to arrange for a security detail. I don't want any more little pricks pawing through my stuff.

I head for that bistro down the block and get my usual table on the deck. Jorge smiles and welcomes me back. This time my order is even simpler than before. Just a beer. Erdinger dark.

And a phone book.

He brings a frosty mug, a bottle, and the telephone directory. I open the yellow pages, pick a company in the beach area and make the necessary arrangements. When I'm assured a guard would be dispatched within the hour, I return my cell phone to my purse and turn my attention to the beer.

I pour and sip and let my eyes wander over the crowd on the beach. There's a party going on to the left. A lot of tight bodies playing sand volleyball to the right. And in front, a couple sunning themselves on a blanket.

I watch them, trying to remember how it felt to spend an afternoon with nothing more important on my mind than when to reapply sun block.

I envy them.

And as if picking up on my thought, the guy hoists himself into a sitting position and reaches for the Coppertone. He says something to his partner, and she rolls onto her side and takes the tube. He turns and she begins smoothing the lotion over a well-muscled back. Then it's her turn, and as he goes to work on her, his face is in my line of sight.

I almost drop the mug. I catch it before it makes too much of a mess, but a frothy wave of beer does manage to spill onto the tabletop and down my pant legs.

I hardly notice because I'm staring at the cop who stopped me for “speeding” the other night. One of the Revengers.

And at the same moment I recognize him, he sees me, too.

His eyes widen, and his hand stops in mid-stroke. We remain that way for what seems a long time, though I'm sure it's only a heartbeat or two. It's as if we're each waiting for the other to make a move.

He blinks first. He mumbles something to his companion and reaches for a cell phone. She doesn't turn to look at me, though, so I'm guessing he doesn't mention the fact that he's just spotted a vampire. Instead she starts gathering their things together, frowning as though irritated that their day at the beach has been disturbed.

I'm not irritated, though. I leave Jorge a ten and duck back inside the bar, watching through the tinted glass as the couple make their way to the street. Then I make a dash for my own car. It's only a half a block down the road, and I move so fast I know they haven't seen me. In fact, the guy keeps looking back over his shoulder, completely unaware that I'm already in my car with the engine running, prepared to follow them. He's looking for a Jag, not an Explorer.

It's the break I've been waiting for.