Night Shift(67)

Across the street, Fiji’s front door opened, and she staggered out of her house. Afraid that she was headed to the crossroads, Lemuel threw himself across the road and ran to her, seizing her by the shoulders to stop her forward progress.

Then he understood that she was grieved for all these creatures, and she was weeping. “I had to shut Mr. Snuggly in his cage,” she said. “He started to go out the cat flap, and he said he was going to die.” There were scratches all over her arms.

“He put up a fight,” Lemuel said.

“LET ME OUT!” screamed Mr. Snuggly from inside the house.

“That’s it,” Fiji said, and he understood she was crying not from sorrow, but from anger.

Lemuel got her back into her house a few minutes later, and he made her take two sleeping aids. For once, he was sorry he didn’t have the power of glamour.

Lemuel came out of Fiji’s house, shutting the door quietly behind him, and went to borrow the Rev’s wheelbarrow and shovel from the little shed in the pet cemetery behind the chapel. It was not a surprise that the Rev was waiting for him under the traffic light, and he was praying. The mound of furry bodies was up to Lemuel’s knees, but the herd of sacrifices had stopped scurrying to die.

“I don’t think it’s any secret what’s here, Lemuel,” the Rev said after his prayer was finished.

“We just have to find out how to stop it,” Lemuel said. “The book is almost translated.”

He and the Rev began their grim cleanup job.

“Did you feel the pull?” Lemuel asked. “Your animal nature?”

The Rev nodded, to indicate that was a legitimate question. “I felt a tug,” he said. “The boy, a strong one. His father held him down.”

It was a long, long, night. Finally, all the animals were buried and the road was cleaned up. The Rev trudged away to his house. Lemuel, grateful they had not been spotted at their corpse disposal, went back in the pawnshop to write Bobo a note, telling him that Olivia would be in charge of the shop the next night. Lemuel went downstairs feeling more tired than he could remember being, but he showered before he crawled into Olivia’s bed before dawn. He smelled of small deaths.

When Lemuel’s eyes opened at the next dark, he felt better. Apparently, he’d taken some energy from Olivia as he slept beside her. Soon they would not have to sleep together all night. He would have his own bed back. Lemuel loved being next to her, but he feared that he would drain Olivia by his proximity if that became a nightly situation. She was not in the room, or even downstairs, his senses told him. He dressed and made himself ready in a very short time.

He found himself a little excited at the prospect of escaping Midnight, even if the odious Christine would be with him when he left. The brooding atmosphere of something bad’s about to happen was getting to him, the same way it was to the humans.

Lemuel swarmed up the stairs to find Olivia already on duty. She’d been chatting with Bobo. Bobo shook Lemuel’s hand to give him a big sip of energy. Olivia leaned over to give Lemuel a long kiss on the cheek, and that, too, felt wonderful in more than one way.

“I’ll be thinking about you,” she said. “Don’t let that bitch get you down.”

Lemuel said, “That will be the day.”

Christine stuck her head in the pawnshop. “I’m ready, Lemuel,” she called. Since he was in charge of her, however temporarily, she should have addressed him as Sir or Master, but he had not insisted. Lemuel thought, That was a mistake. He walked out the side door and back to the residents’ parking area slightly ahead of Christine, whose black hair was smoothly brushed. Christine had used the washing machine and dryer the night before, and her short dress fluttered around her legs as she made a beeline to Olivia’s car. Olivia’s Civic was way more anonymous than Lemuel’s Vette, and vampires simply could not stand out if eating was on the agenda.

“I regret that I didn’t ask you earlier about your hunger,” he said as he buckled the seat belt.

“I thought it was your way of providing me with incentive to finish,” she said, in such a matter-of-fact way that Lemuel was glad all over again that he didn’t live in Joseph’s nest in Dallas. “And I suppose it worked. I’ve finished translating the book.”

A jolt of relief went through Lemuel, and he said, “At last! I can find out what to do, and we’ll be safe, maybe.”

“Yes,” she said. “Maybe.” Lemuel glanced over at Christine. She seemed faintly amused. He started to ask her what she’d read about Midnight, but his dignity stopped him. He would read it for himself, by himself, and determine his own course of action.