Page 52 of Red Rooster

“These people are doctors,” Alexei said, “they can’tarrestus.”

“Try telling that to Mulder and Scully when they show up with handcuffs,” Trina said wearily. “Or whatever you’d need to catch a vampire.”

“One of those dinosaur nets fromJurassic Park,” Lanny suggested.

Idiot, Nikita thought savagely. An idiot he was likely going to have to put up with for the rest of eternity…however long that turned out to be.

“Jesus,” Trina said, pushing her hands through her hair. “I need somesleep.”

There were murmurs of agreement, and Nikita realized they were all looking at him.

For a moment, he had a terrible sense of déjà vu. Up to his ankles in melting snow, scent of pine forest heavy in his lungs, a group of men in black, and one ferocious sniper in army greens, all turning to him for guidance.

As he had back then, Sasha looked at him now with unwavering faith, wagging his figurative tail.

“I don’t guess I can talk you into running away?” he asked.

Trina gave him a flat look that squeezed his heart. So like Katya.

“Fine. Then I think I might know where we could go.”

~*~

“What is this place?” Trina asked.

“Somewhere safe,” Nikita said. TheI hopewas present in the silence after.

They stood on the sidewalk in front of a three-story brick walkup that was just dilapidated enough to be charming without being scary. Lights glowed in the upper windows, and a beautiful, hand-lettered sign beside the turquoise front door said that the Mysterious Miss Colette’s hours of operation were ten-to-four on weekdays, noon-to-six on weekends. A closer look revealed heavy drapes in the first-floor windows, and an assortment of turned-off neon signs – one of which looked like a crescent moon. The flower boxes overflowed with pink and white and lavender flowers that seemed to glow in the moonlight; Trina could smell strong herbs in them, too.

“Miss Colette,” Jamie said. “I’ve heard of her. Someone in my class used to have her palm read here.”

“You brought us to see a psychic?” Lanny asked with obvious disapproval.

“No.” Nikita finished composing a text and slid his phone into his pocket. “I brought you to see a vampire.”

A light came on downstairs, and a moment later the turquoise door opened. A woman stood framed in silhouette at the top of the stairs, tall and slender, in a skirt that skimmed the ground. “Don’t you know we’re closed?” she called down in an accent Trina couldn’t place: something warm and rich and flavored with the Caribbean.

Nikita gave her a very small smile. “Hello, Colette.”

The woman sighed, and the accent fell away, voice nothing but New York – but still warm. “You don’t ever come around here unless something’s wrong. What is it this time, Nik?”

“I’ll explain. Can we come up?”

She stepped forward, into the pool of illumination provided by the security light over the door, and Trina saw dark skin and high cheekbones, big tip-tilted eyes and elaborate caramel dreads that fell past her shoulders. A hunk of crystal hung on a cord around her neck, catching and refracting the light. “I smell three vamps, and only one of them’s you.”

“They’re friends,” Nikita said, sighing. “Just…please?”

She stared at them a long, heavy moment. “Alright, fine. But if you break anything you buy it.”

“Of course.”

Lanny stepped up to Trina’s side as they moved toward the door, hand settling at the small of her back. She flinched – didn’t want to, or mean to, and settled again right away, but he pulled back, and the silence between them bristled, suddenly.

Nikita led them up the stairs and into a wide entryway that was. Well. It was dazzling. A heavy round wooden table dominated the space, its surface dotted with vases of all shapes, sizes, and colors, all of them bursting with flowers and succulents, fern fronds and ivy. White candles lay scattered between, and in the front, propped up on a wire rack, were brochures. Over it all hung a massive antique chandelier dripping with crystal, threaded with Christmas lights. Framed photos lined the red-papered walls; Trina caught glimpses of old black and white portraits. Under them sat two neat rows of cushioned chairs.

To their right, heavy, fringed velvet drapes were pulled back to expose a parlor done up in a similar fashion, this one with a wide, draped table with chairs around it.

The air smelled of growing green things, flowers and herbs, an undernote of peppermint. It was both everything and nothing like Trina had always envisioned a psychic’s residence.