Jeanne Stein - Chosen

“I don’t know what’s wrong. The gate won’t open.”

Frey pulls up then, at the other side of the gate. I don’t remember giving him my car key, but at this moment, it hardly matters. He’s still on one side of the gate and we’re on the other.

I motion David and the girls off to the side. If I were alone, I’d jump the fence. I take a look at the gate. It’s eight feet of wrought iron with an iron lock. I still have the guard’s keys in my pocket. If I can get the lock open, I should be able to push the gate open.

Frey watches as I fish the keys from my pocket. There are about twenty, all about the same size and configuration. I start to jab them into the lock, one after the other.

“Give them to me,” Frey says after a minute. “Let me try.” He bends over, examines the lock, shuffles the keys until he finds one that to my eye is indistinguishable from the other nineteen on the ring. That’s the one he slips into the lock and gives a turn.

The lock opens with a metallic snick.

“How did you do that?”

He grins. “It’s the Y chromosome.”

He worked his magic. It’s my turn to work mine. I put my shoulder against the gate and heave.

The gate flies apart.

David says, “Way to go, Anna.”

The girls giggle and clap their hands.

Frey holds open the car door. “That extra X chromosome ain’t no slouch, either.”

David and the girls crowd into the backseat of the Jag. Dena pulls out of the gate. I consider trying to blockade it in some way but what’s the point? We’ll all be back here in forty-eight hours and between now and then, I really don’t care what goes on in the house.

The girls turn out to be college students, with an apartment up on Montezuma near the San Diego State campus. David is disappointed I won’t let them go home with him. They part with kisses and an exchange of telephone numbers. When David isn’t paying attention, I slip the girls’ numbers out of his shirt pocket. The less he remembers about the last couple of days the better.

When we’re back on the road, David slumps down on the backseat and falls asleep.

Frey says, “Shall we take David to your house?”

I give it a moment’s thought. “No. Let’s take him to his condo. If he wakes up in my place, he’ll start looking around for food. We’ve already gone through that once.”

Frey gives me one of those oh-what-does-that-mean quirks of an eyebrow.

“Not what you’re thinking. I brought him home to sleep off a drunk. He slept on the couch.”

I glance into the backseat. “What do you think she gave him?”

He raises a shoulder in a half shrug. “Hallucinogenic? Meth or ecstasy? A cocktail of all of the above? Hard to say. The good news is he hasn’t been exposed that long. Hopefully, he’ll sleep it off.”

When we get to his place, we’re able to rouse David to his feet and into the elevator. He doesn’t appear to have keys on him, but I have a set on my key ring so at least this is one door we don’t have to break into or down.

David looks surprised to find himself at home. “What happened to the girls?”

Frey and I steer him into the bedroom, strip him down to his tighty whities and bundle him into bed. David smiles up at me and holds up a corner of the sheet.

“Aren’t you going to join me?”

Frey clears his throat. “I think I’ll make some coffee.”

He leaves for the kitchen and I take a seat on the edge of the bed. David’s eyes have already closed.

I brush a lock of hair off his forehead. “David?”

“Hmmmm?”

“Did she hurt you?”

A snort. “You mean Judy? If anything, I probably hurt her.”

Okay. Too much information. “Did Judy say anything strange to you while you were—uh—having sex?”

One sleepy eye pops open. “You mean did Judy tell me that you’re both vampires?”

“What did you think when she told you that?”

“I thought”—he pulls the sheet up to his chin and rolls on his side—“that it explained a lot.”

Frey is standing in front of the picture window in the living room staring out at the downtown skyline. The morning sun blankets the city with crimson rays of molten silk. When he hears me coming up behind him, he says, “This is quite a place. Must have cost David a bundle. The fugitive apprehension business must be more lucrative than I imagined.”

He’s holding a mug of coffee in each hand and holds one out to me.

“Business is good,” I say after taking a sip. “But not this good. He bought the condo when he was still playing football.”

Physically, it looks like Frey is focusing on the view but I can tell his mind is elsewhere. Probably thinking of what he might be doing now. At home with Layla. Or at school. Anywhere except here dealing with another of my crises.

“Frey?”

He half turns toward me.

“I’m sorry.”

His brow wrinkles. “For what?”

“For dragging you into yet another drama. You should go home now. I’ll stay with David. Then when I know he’s okay, I’ll go back to the cottage and take a look at your notes.”

He places his mug down on the coffee table. “I will go home,” he says. “To shower and change. Then I’ll go by the cottage and get the book. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“What about school? How many days have you missed now?”

He holds up a hand. “Two words. Student. Teacher. She has lesson plans and an attitude. She’ll do fine without me.”

I walk him to the door. “Let me give you my keys. Take the Jag.”

“I have a set of your keys. Remember, I drove tonight when we left Avery’s?”

Yeah. That’s right. “When did I give you a set of keys?”

“You didn’t. I managed to abscond with the extra set you keep—make that kept—in the sugar bowl on the kitchen counter.”

“Very resourceful.”

“We cats are.”

He pulls the door open. “You’re not mad?”

How could I be mad? “I should have thought to give you a set myself.”

He leaves with one last admonition. “Lock up. We don’t know how pissed off Judith Williams is, but there’s no sense taking chances. A locked door won’t keep her out, but it’ll slow her down.”

I close the door behind him and turn the deadbolt. Then I head for the kitchen and a phone.

I hope Judith was smart enough to get her new best friends out of Avery’s house. Time for her to know I don’t make empty threats.

It’s time for me call the cops.

David is still asleep. It’s been almost twelve hours and I’m beginning to get worried. I peek in at him, but his breathing is deep and regular and he doesn’t seem to be in any distress. I close the bedroom door and rejoin Frey.

Frey and I have made ourselves at home in the condo. David is as much a carnivore as Frey so food isn’t an issue. We alternate lessons from the book with bouts in the kitchen. I’d forgotten how good bacon smells when it’s cooking or the way a rare steak oozes when it’s cut into. Which is what Frey is doing now. I take a seat on a barstool and watch.

Frey watches me watching him.

“Want a bite?”

I have another flashback. Retching into the sink after a mouthful of lasagna. “How do you feel about projectile vomiting?”

“Nice image.”

I rest my elbows on the counter, lean forward. “How long do you think David will be out?”

“As long as it takes. No way to judge since we don’t know what she gave him.”

Frey is sopping up meat juices with a piece of bread.

“Are you going to lick the plate next?”

“How do you clean up after yourself?”

He’s right. Vampires lick puncture wounds to heal them. “We have a lot in common.”