Soon, she would have to go, but not just yet. She wanted a little more time to look at Tucker. He was sleeping quietly - sleep, she suspected, that he desperately needed. He looked so peaceful, his face years younger, free of the recent lines of worry that she had caused. She loved him more than she thought possible and now wanted to remember every pore, every line, every mark on his face. She did not touch him for fear of waking him, fear of what he might say; but her hand moved just above his body, mimicking his shape, the hard edges, as if she were stroking him.
She knew he would never leave her. If the thought had even entered his mind, it was now gone, replaced by a certainty that would keep him beside her. Perhaps it was his sense of honor, something deeply bred in his bones, having to do with cowboy codes and happy endings, that prevented him from getting himself out of this mess. There would be no happy ending here, the letters had proven that. At worst, she would live for all eternity like an animal. At best, after contacting Lazarus, she would let the sun have its way with her and be done with it. No matter what, Tucker deserved better and she was going to see that he had it.
It was as simple as leaving him now, finding Sully and Lazarus, and then, well, whatever. Tucker could go back to LonePine, find a good woman, have a baby or two, and chase off his alpacas. That was the life he was meant to live.
Should she write a note? Yes. Otherwise he might wait here for days, or worse, put himself in danger looking for her. She took the photo of her mother and Julius, scribbled on the back of it: Tucker, I love you. Please go back to LonePine. Don't forget me but don't wait for me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for everything.
As she moved closer to him to put the photo on his chest, she realized that he was awake, following her every move with his eyes.
"You running out on me?" he asked quietly.
"I, well, what I..." she trailed off in confusion.
"Answer the question."
"Yes."
"Well, that ain't an option."
"Ain't isn't a word," she sniffed. "And this ain't a cowboy movie. You should go home, live a real life."
"Find some new girl, you mean?"
"Yes. Someone who doesn't drink blood."
"Look, let's be clear here. I ain't going anywhere. End of story."
"What if I want you to?"
"Do you? Really?"
"Yes." Lizzie was resolute. She stood. "I'm going to church now. "
"Got your Sunday best on, I see." She looked down at her tattered clothing.
"It can't be helped. I have to meet Sully. I don't want to see you again, Tucker. Ever."
"What about Rex?" Rex wagged his tail hopefully.
"I'm serious. Go home." She spun around and stomped out the door, heart heavy that she was leaving Tucker behind. He smiled and shook his head, muttering.
Outside the door, Lizzie walked up the stairs out of the catacombs, into the church nave. There was no sound of Tucker behind her. Good, she thought, at least he listened. Damn him for listening.
She made her way through the sparse crowd, back to the pew where she had sat with her mother, so long ago. Or was it the one behind? She could not quite remember. A few churchgoers eyed her suspiciously as she sat down, torn clothes, bare feet, and exhausted eyes, but she ignored them and bowed her head.
"My, my, my. You look like you've been through the wringer," came a familiar woman's voice. "And I had so hoped we would never meet again."
Lizzie turned to look over her shoulder and Elita smiled coquettishly at her from the aisle. Before Lizzie had a chance to respond, Elita spoke with great ferocity in her voice, but without losing the smile. "This entire church is surrounded. You cannot possibly escape. Just come quietly. Please."
Lizzie stood up in frustrated obedience. She noticed Mr. Sully sitting demurely two pews behind. Her eyes met his, and he nodded almost imperceptibly Lizzie looked quickly away, her face resigned as Elita led her out of the church.
Just then, Tucker slipped in one pew behind Sully, his massive pistol leveled at the base of the diminutive Vampire's neck. "You Sully?"
"Yep, pardner. Reckon I am."
Tucker was startled for an instant, then shook his head and lowered the gun out of sight. "Any ideas?"
"Oh, yes," said Sully, lapsing back into his normal speech pattern, "but I think she'll need some inside help."
"You saying I should go with her?"
"It would be most convenient if you allowed yourself to be captured now."
Tucker paused thoughtfully before responding. "See you in a little while then?" Tucker asked hopefully.
"Oh, most definitely," responded Sully. "We will be there at," he checked his watch, "9:30 tomorrow night. It would be most helpful if you could create a small diversion of some sort."
"I'll see what I can do." Tucker stood and squared his shoulders as he walked toward the door. Once outside, he shouted,
"You'll never take her alive," and rushed headfirst at the mob of Vampires hustling Lizzie into the waiting limo. Rex ran behind, barking furiously.
Inside, Sully laughed heartily. He, too, would be quite an addition to Lazarus' theater project, and so handsome. If only Lazarus could turn the cowboy.
By the time the confusion ended, Tucker and Lizzie sat facing each other in the back of the limo. Tucker's guns, he noted with dismay, were on the front seat, which was separated from them by a thick layer of plexiglass. Their hands were manacled behind their backs and Rex was tied to the door handle with a length of rope. He looked forlornly at Tucker, then back at Lizzie. On either side of them was a silent Vampire. Elita sat in the jumpseat, directly behind the driver, idly flipping through the latest issue of Cosmopolitan.
Lizzie glared at Tucker. "I told you I never wanted to see you again. What the hell were you thinking? You just don't know when to give up, do you?"
Tucker shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't believe you."
"Well, do you believe me now?"
"Naw..."
"Oooh, you are so pigheaded and ridiculously stubborn."
He leaned toward her. "Well, ain't that kind of the pot calling the kettle black, darlin'?"
"If my hands were free, I swear I'd choke the life right out of you. Don't you see, whatever happens to me will be bearable as long as I know you are all right?" She leaned closer too, their faces inches apart now. "But no, you had to waltz in and ruin everything."
"That's some gratitude for a guy risking his ass to save yours," he yelled back.
"Who asked you to?" she screamed.
"Enough," Elita yelled as she threw the magazine and it bounced off Tucker's head, falling onto Rex. She pushed them back into their seats. "You two are driving me out of my mind. You sound like an old married couple." She looked into Lizzie's eyes. "Like he could just turn his back on you. He loves you. And you," she turned to Tucker, "don't you see she was trying to protect you."
Her shoulders slumped. "Oh, God, this is so nauseating. I sound like a therapist." She retrieved her magazine and slumped back into the seat.
Several minutes passed. Tucker glared at Lizzie, who glared back at him.
Finally she said, "You'll never take her alive. What the hell does that mean?"
"It's all I could come up with, all right?"
Elita shook her head behind the magazine and scowled.
"Why didn't you just stay at the church?" Lizzie asked tiredly.
He arched his eyebrow. "'Cause I didn't want to sully our relationship."
"Our relationship would be a lot better off if one of us hadn't been captured by these goons."
Tucker rolled his eyes. "No, our chance of escape would have been sullied if I'd stayed behind."
"Oh," she said at last, understanding. "I get it." She nodded.
Elita looked up curiously and started to say something, but the limo came to a stop outside the facade of rowhouses. Shrugging, she opened the door, ushering the captives outside. Elita took the rope restraining Rex and dragged him along. They were led through the darkened gardens, pushed roughly by their captors. Tucker balked, and the Vampire behind him punched him in the kidneys. The force of the blow dropped him to his knees.
He struggled back up and glared at the sinister face. "If my hands were free," he grumbled, "I'd whip your ass."
The Vampire grinned. "I would be delighted to accommodate you," he said, driving his fist into Tucker's gut. All the air rushed out of him and he doubled over. "Some other time, perhaps."
"You piece of shit," Tucker mumbled through gritted teeth. He spit and straightened up. "What's your name?" he asked, as he turned toward the mansion.
"I am called Revor. Why does this concern you?"
"I like to know who it is I'm going to kill." Revor jerked his arms savagely and laughed.
Julius was waiting in the lobby and smiled victoriously as the party entered. "Elizabeth, so good to see you again. And Tucker, loyal Tucker. My heartfelt thanks at leading us straight to our Queen."
Tucker glowered at him. Lizzie quickly surveyed the room and Julius' face, quietly assessing what the situation was and how to best play the few cards they had.
"I don't think this is a suitable way to treat the Queen of the Vampires," she said.
Julius chuckled. "Don't get carried away, my dear. You proved your allegiances when you chose to flee. Come, bring them." He gestured expansively up the staircase. "We have prepared a special room."
"Thanks, but I was getting used to the church," Tucker quipped. Revor pushed him forward.
"I will admit, you have a certain charm," Julius said. His face quickly darkened as he took the first step and turned to regard them. "Let me tell you the way things are to be now. You are my prisoner," he said, pointing at Lizzie. "You will be held here until I have what I want from you. Depending on your level of cooperation, I may let you live after that. You," he pointed at Tucker, "are my hostage. If Elizabeth disobeys my wishes, you will be killed in an extremely painful way." He smiled at Revor who stood close behind. "Of course, Elizabeth, you will be obligated to watch this demise." He paused, lost in the force of his own words. "The dog dies now. A reminder of the seriousness of my concerns. Elita, he is yours." She scooped Rex off the floor and held him tight in her arms, beaming at Tucker.
"You bitch," Tucker roared. "Let him be." He lunged at her but Revor lashed out with his fist, connecting with Tucker's temple.
He collapsed to the floor with a groan. Lizzie took an involuntary step forward, but Julius seized her by the shoulders.
"If you cooperate, he lives. For now."
She stared hard into his face then shook herself free. "Whatever you say, father."
Julius paled even closer to white and took a hesitant step back. "Who told you that?" he stammered. Then his eyes fell on the pendant glittering on her throat. He snatched it away, regarded it briefly, then smiled and placed it in his vest pocket. "It would seem I underestimated your mother. I'll keep this for now."
"Take me to my room," she replied, moving past him, trying to keep him off balance as long as possible. Revor hoisted Tucker over his shoulder and carried him to the top of the stairs. A door stood open and he dumped Tucker unceremoniously inside.
Lizzie stepped in as well and Revor undid first her manacles, and then those of Tucker. Julius stood in the doorway, his face tight.
"Do not try to escape. It is impossible."
"Don't kill the dog," she said, "it will be your undoing."
"A dog? Don't make me laugh." He stepped out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him. He opened it again briefly.
"You do not deserve the privilege of a coffin. Lie so that you will avoid the sunlight, as our wild ancestors once did, hidden in the shadows." He pulled it shut and she heard the lock click into place.
MANHATTAN COMPOUND
October 13, 2001, 4:45 A.M.
Outside, Julius spun around to regard Elita triumphantly. "That certainly went well."
She allowed herself a tight smile and readjusted her grip on the collar of the dog under her arm. Rex lolled his head passively, his wide eyes on the room where Tucker lay, now sealed tight.
"I must give you the credit for this, my dear. Your plan worked splendidly," Julius said.
"I am so happy for you," she said. "Your little princess has returned. It will be interesting to see if you let her escape again."
His hand closed involuntarily around the doorknob and brass squeaked and groaned under the pressure. "Mind your tongue, Elita." He took a threatening step forward and she shrank from him. Given the blood to spare, she would have flushed. Even Rex, almost catatonic from fear in her arms, bared his teeth in alarm at Julius. "I will not tolerate your ridiculous jealousy and petty sarcasms. If you find this situation no longer to your liking, feel free to leave."
"Maybe I will," she said shakily, her chin raised in defiance.
"Don't let me stop you." He brushed past her down the hall and called over his shoulder. "Enjoy the dog. Consider it my parting gift."
Elita stood frozen in the corridor, her face transformed by shock and despair. As the grief played itself out, she stared down at Rex and snarled at him through her sobs, "I almost hate to take this out on you. But not quite."
She carried him through the mansion and down the spiral stairs into the heart of the underground complex, passing scores of other Vampires who smiled enviously at the burden in her arms. Most would be off to feed soon, but for the time being were hungry and irritable. She said nothing, walking straight to the elegant door of her room. Keeping one hand on the collar, she laid him down and reached up to open the handle. Rex lay completely motionless as the door swung open. She tugged him forward by the collar. "This is going to be too easy," she said, bending low to envelop him.
With a snarl and alarming speed, Rex came to life. Where a second before, he had been lying still, feigning resignation, now he
was extended in a jump that allowed him to clamp his own fangs into the soft flesh of her breasts. It surprised her more than hurt, but she fell backward and swatted at him as he disengaged and bolted for the door, scooting around the corner just before it swung closed.
She howled in rage and looked down at her torn blouse. Liquid seeped from the teeth marks on her half-exposed breast, staining the torn fabric. She pulled the pieces back into place and, fumbling at the door latch, opened it in time to see Rex disappearing down the hall. A dozen bewildered Vampires turned to see who had made so much noise as Rex negotiated through them at breakneck speed.
"Get that damn dog," she screamed, startling them all into motion, but it was far too late as Rex was already bounding up the stairs. She charged after him, shouldering through the confused Vampires. "Idiots," she snarled. When she cleared the landing, he was nowhere in sight so she paused, listening deeply The faint click of claws across linoleum reached her ears. The kitchen.
She sprinted down the hall and smashed through the swinging doors in time to see him darting across the dining room. A string of curses formed in her mouth but were cut off as the doors swung back and sent her tumbling. She sat on the linoleum and raged.
"I despise dogs," she screamed at the empty kitchen. She let her senses flood out of her, seeking a cowering, flea-bitten, canine form, but finding nothing.
One of the Vampires entered the kitchen. "Miss Elita, can I be of assistance?"
"Of course you can be of assistance. Find that goddamn dog."
"Perhaps he went outside."
"Well, go outside and look for him."
The Vampire hurried to the garden's main door and held it open, surveying the darkened grounds outside. A furry flash streaked past him with a yelp and the Vampire uttered an exclamation. "He's out here now, Miss Elita," he yelled, sprinting after him.
Elita raced out into the night and felt a strange thrill coursing through her veins despite the ridiculous nature of this game. There was a time, back in her wild, untamed youth, when the hunt was the joy of her life. Not simply prowling the streets for some young, sexually desperate man to take home, but running the woods and taking her prey with tooth and claw. A worn-out cowboy's worn-out dog was a far cry from the knights and highwaymen of the Dark Ages, but it was still invigorating. So be it, the hunt was on. With a laugh, she threw herself into the darkness, felt the cool air against her face and the wet grass beneath her feet. Reaching out, she found the scent of fear, and finding it, increased her speed until it was almost like flying.