Page 33 of Night of the Vampire

"I'd like to come meet your friend."

He stood frozen for a long moment.

"I don't think I can help her, but I'd still like to meet her."

His chin dropped. For someone who was so gung ho to get me there, he seemed hesitant. But then he lifted his head. "I'll take you to her tomorrow. I'll be here at sunset."

* * *

Sunset.

I walked into the front sitting area with my coffee and looked out the window. That was only...what?

Hours.

It was only hours away.

But first I had to deal with work. Staring at my reflection in the window, I knew, deep down, Killian had been right all along.

I'm a witch, aren't I?

Yes.

Chapter 13

Killian

“You're bringing her here," Jamal stood outside the small bathroom and pointed at the floorboards of the house to emphasize his point. "Here, to this house," he said again. "To the swamp."

"Yeah. Yes," I told him when he just looked at me. "She's coming to see Kenya." I didn't tell him what I'd discovered the night before. I was still bringing Lizzy here. She doesn't know everything she's capable of. She may be able to help. It wasn't unheard of for a fire witch to have healing powers. Just more rare.

"She's not going to help us, man. She's a witch."

I stopped shaving and set down my razor, spinning around to face him. "What else do you expect me to do then, Jamal? Let Kenya die? Without doing everything in my power to keep that from happening?"

He had the good grace to look disgusted. "No, of course not."

"Well?" I threw my arms out to the side "What, then? Because me carrying a sick vampire through the streets of the French Quarter will surely get a lot more attention than one lone witch coming out here."

"How do you know she won't be leading her coven right to us?"

"She's not even talking to her family."

"That you know of," Jamal said. "What if she's the bait and this is just a trap for them to find out where we are?"

I turned back around and continue shaving. I was done with his questions. "It's not a trap."

"But how do you know, Killian?"

"I know," I told him. "All right? I know."

In the mirror, I saw him cross his arms over his chest. "So you've been poking around in people's heads again," he accused.

"Of course I have. How else am I to find out anything?"

He was quiet as I finished shaving my face, rinsed the razor, and set it on the sink. "Look," I told him, grabbing a towel. "I'm bringing her here to see Kenya because I don't think it would be wise to try to move her."

He gave me that bland stare that never failed to get under my skin and crawl around until I felt like screaming. "I'll erase her memory," I promised. "She won't remember where we are."