Greywalker

Chapter 17

Cameron gave a slow nod. "I seem to be able to see things most people can't," I started. "I met a couple recently who said there's a… another sphere of existence sort of parallel to, or on top of, the normal one. The paranormal. In between here and there, there's a place where things like ghosts and vampires exist, the same way ordinary people do in the ordinary world. Making sense?" "I get it."

I nodded and made my best stab at the story, dawdling over my words. "I got into an accident a while ago, and afterward I started seeing, moving, into this… place. It's called the Grey. Sometimes I just see things like film projected on fog. Sometimes I can go all the way in—but I try not to. I don't know if I leave the ordinary altogether or not. But I'm getting pretty good at catching sight of things that sort of waver in the Grey, even when I'm here." "You mean like ghosts?"

"Yeah. I see a lot of ghosts. And a lot of other stuff. I can't say I like it. And I can see you. You seem to exist in both places at the same time. I think that you see me with both sets of eyes, so I seem more solid or more real to you than a lot of other people do."

"You do seem more real than most people have in a while. So what happened just now?"

"When I touched you, I… fell in."

"Whoa. That's pretty weird."

"It's not a lot weirder than being a vampire."

His head bobbed as he thought about it.

"So what's your story?" I asked.

"Urn, well… can I skip over some of the details?"

"Sure. For now." I leaned back against the desk and crossed my arms. I could feel the molded edge digging into my butt, but I wasn't about to move.

"Yeah, OK. See, I was down here in the Square a lot a while back, trying to help out a friend."

"Your sister, Sarah?"

He hesitated to confirm or deny.

"She told me about it. She said she'd been some kind of possession for a while. A guy named Edward kept her as a toy."

He closed his eyes and looked tired. "Yeah." His lids rose, but he didn't refocus on me. "I finally got a hold of Edward, and I tried a lot of things to get him to give Sarah up, but he wouldn't." His voice was starting to growl and resonate. "He was so damned amused about it. I was ready to smash his face in. I couldn't have done it, but I wanted to. I got pissed off and asked him what would induce him to let Sarah go. And the son of a bitch said me!"

My stomach did a flip. I put my palm out toward him. "Calm down a little, Cam. You don't need to boil the atmosphere."

He glared at me, then slumped a bit and took a couple of deep breaths. "I didn't mean to get so wound up, but it really wound me up at the time. Anyhow, I was kind of creeped out about it. But I had to help Sarah. It was like she was fading a bit more every time we met.

"Anyhow, I–I said he could have me." Cameron looked down at his hands. "I didn't know he was a vampire. I thought he just wanted to have sex with me. I didn't know he wanted to… make me."

Now he looked up. His eyes glimmered. "I thought he was just some kind of kink and I figured I stood a better chance of holding him off than Sarah did. I'm not hung up about sex, so I didn't think it would be a big deal. I figured he'd find me boring after a while and let me go. But that's not how it went.

"At first it was just sort of weird… I don't really want to discuss that part." He tucked his head sideways and looked at me with a grimace.

"OK. Go on with the part you do want to tell," I encouraged.

"Anyhow, so… Edward's a vampire and now I'm a vampire."

"Why isn't Sarah a vampire, too?"

"I don't know. I think he was having a lot more fun just sort of playing with her. Or maybe he doesn't like girls. I don't know."

"And then what happened? Why did Edward dump you?"

He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. "Oh, I pissed him off. I had a meltdown, got nasty, lost my temper, and he tossed me out and told me to fend for myself. I've tried to get some help, but I don't know who to turn to besides Edward, and he won't even look at me. I mean he literally doesn't see me. I'm really in a mess. There are other vampires around town, but I think Edward is a big man in the local community and he's got them all scared or something. I've been cut out, I guess. It's kind of scary. I could get killed just because of the things I don't know, but I don't know how to learn them. There is no Vampirism for Dummies handbook. I tried reading the folklore sections in the library but most of that tells you how to destroy a vampire, not how to be one."

He lay back in the chair for a few more seconds, still. Then he jerked upright and stared at me. "You could help me!"

"Me? I don't know even half as much about vampires as you do."

"You could be my… my intermediary. You're a neutral party. Maybe some of the others will talk to you. You could talk to Edward."

"I don't think th—," I started.

Cameron jumped up. "Yes! You could do it. You don't need to be a vampire expert. I could point out some of the people and you could ask them. They'll talk to you, I know they will!" He was almost capering with excitement.

"Why—why," I repeated, raising my voice with each rep, "why would they talk to me?"

He stopped and stared at me. "Well, because… because you've got great legs. Who could resist a smart PI with good legs who can spot a vampire without a mirror? Please try. Please? I can pay you. I've got lots of money. I'll pay you double your normal rates. Come on. Is it a deal?"

I had a strange feeling about this. "Let me think about it."

"OK. How 'bout twenty-four hours?"

"Make it twenty-eight hours. I've got a life, you know."

"Yeah, rub it in."

"Cameron…"

"OK, OK. Twenty-eight hours. What do I care? I'll still be up."

My riposte was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in!"

Quinton opened the door and stuck his head into the room. "I'm having a little problem."

"Come all the way in and tell us about it," I suggested.

Quinton closed the door behind himself and perched on the edge of the shabby chair next to Cameron's.

"I can't get this system functional tonight. I've got most of the work done—the lock's fixed and all that—but one of the alarm modules I brought with me is toast and I can't get another one until morning."

"Can you rig something temporary?" I asked.

"Not for this. There has to be a brain of some kind for a multi-input, multistage system like this," he explained. "The fried module is the brain, but it's the one thing I don't have a spare for. I can fake it, but no guarantees, or I can get the correct part in the morning." He glanced at me, then looked over at Cameron. He twitched a stiff shrug. "Sorry."

Cam's face wrinkled up and he pursed his lips. I could almost read the swear words forming around his head. But all he said was, "No problem." Then he looked at me. "You got any suggestions?"

I shook my head and looked at Quinton. "You?"

"Well, if you guys both trust me with her, you could leave the car with me and I can take it down to a friend's garage first thing in the morning. I'll get the module from him, finish up the work, and bring the car back. Be done by nine."

"A.M.?" Cameron asked.

Quinton nodded. One corner of his mouth rippled.

Cameron looked at me with rising panic. "I'm not much of a morning person."

I waved him down. "I'll take care of that. I can pick up the car and pay for it. You'll have to pay me back. Assuming that I can find you a safe place to sleep, that schedule sounds OK to me." I looked at Quinton.

"All right," said Quinton as he pushed to his feet. "Any problems, I'll page you. Car's all locked up. Should be safe where it is till morning." He looked at Cameron. "You need anything out of it before I take off with the keys?"

"Uh, no. I can make do. Thanks."

"No problem," Quinton replied, slipping out the door.

When he was gone, Cameron shot me an expectant stare. "What am I going to do? Where am I going to sleep?"

"Hang on. I have to make a phone call."

I dialed and waited.

"Hello?"

"Mara, it's Harper. How do you two feel about vampires?"

"Never met any. Why?"

"I have a young man in my office who doesn't have a pulse, sleeps during the day, and needs a place to hide out while the sun is up. He seems all right, but he's got some problems we're dealing with. I only need a place for one night. Would it put you out if I dropped him off with Ben?"

"Oh, no. I'm sure we can work something out. There's a little finished room in the cellar that's quite cozy and the light doesn't come in during the day. That might do."

"All right. Now let me talk to Ben."

"You do catch on quick to this wife/husband business," she said, before turning away from the phone to call for Ben.

"Hi, Harper. Are you coming back for pie?"

"Let me tell you what's come up before I answer that. I need to find a place to hide a vampire for one day, and I'm in a bit of a bind about it."

"I don't understand."

"He's a nice kid, but he's new to this vampire business and his normal sleeping place won't be available until tomorrow. Mara thinks you might have a place he could hang out until sunset tomorrow, but I wanted to OK it with you first. Is this safe?"

"Safe? Sure. You're not worried about all that 'has to be invited' junk, are you? Folklore. That's all. But are you sure this kid's a" — he lowered his voice—"vampire? Really?"

"You could almost pass him off as normal except for the teeth and the eyes and the fact that he doesn't have a heartbeat."

"Wow. This is kind of exciting. We can manage. Yes, sure. Brian's at my mother's until tomorrow, so that's no worry."

"Thanks, Ben. I couldn't think of anyplace else. And he really needs more help than just a place to crash for a day. I thought you might want to talk to him."

"Oh, God, yes! When are you coming?"

"I'll be there in about twenty minutes."

"Great! We'll fix some things up and see you then."

I hung up and looked at Cameron. "What do you think?"

"I'm not sure. Who are these guys? They didn't seem too freaked out by the idea."

"I'll tell you on the way."

Cameron followed me to the office door. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"It's the safest option I can come up with on such short notice. They won't be any threat to you, except that Ben might keep you up till dawn asking questions. Do you eat pie?"

"No. Solid food makes me spew. I drink a little alcohol or coffee every once in a while."

"Coffee?"

"Yeah. It has just the opposite effect it used to have. Now it smoothes me out."

On the drive back up to Queen Anne, I explained Ben and Mara Danziger, to the best of my ability.

"A real witch? Sweet," said Cam, leaning back in the passenger seat. "This could turn out all right."

"I hope so. The only thing I'm worried about is Albert getting agitated. I don't know if he could cause you any kind of trouble."

"I'll do my best to snake-charm him," Cam said with a smile that was both winsome and horrifying. It had to be the teeth. "Who's Albert?"

"He's a ghost. He… lives there."

Cam was still puzzling on that one when I pulled up in front of the house and parked.

"Come on," I urged, grabbing my bag as I stepped out.

We started across the sidewalk together. Albert materialized in the arch at the foot of the steps and glowered at us.

I sighed. Folklore. Right. "May we come in?"

He didn't move, and I was loath to walk through him. He stopped looking at me and directed his baleful gaze onto Cameron.

Cam stepped forward and held up his empty hands. "I promise I won't do them any harm," he said. "I… I give you my word. I just need some help and I hope your friends can give it to me. OK?"

Albert looked at him a moment longer, then nodded and whispered away.

Cam glanced at me. "Tough customer. Must have been a bouncer."

I grinned and we went up the walk.

Ben Danziger opened to my knock. He looked Cameron over as hard as Albert had before stepping back. "Come on in."

Mara stuck her head out the kitchen door. "Would either of you like some coffee with your pie?"

"I would love some coffee, thank you, Mara," I said.

"Coffee would be very nice, thank you, ma'am," said Cameron.

"Oh, heavens, call me Mara. Even my students don't call me ma'am." She smiled and vanished back into the kitchen, calling out, "Go ahead. Ben will catch me up on anything I miss."

Cameron and I exchanged a look as Ben led us into the living room and waved us into seats. He sank himself into a big wingback chair by the fireplace. Cameron took a corner of the couch and I sat next to him, in spite of the vertigo his proximity caused me.

"OK," Ben started. "You think this young man's a vampire?"

Before I could reply, Cam let out a barking laugh and grinned to bare his teeth. "Harper can think what she likes, but I know. Three months ago I had perfectly ordinary teeth. Now I've got these. I used to get up in the morning with a pulse. Now I don't roll out of bed until sunset and you couldn't time the motion of a glacier against my heart rate."

Ben looked at him with a combination of skepticism and excitement fighting on his face. "Are you sure it isn't just a mental aberration?"

"I'm pretty sure."

"Come over here."

Cam ambled over to Ben, who reached out for his wrist.

"Damn, you're cold!"

"Yep. It takes about two hours for my skin to rise to room temperature if it's cold outside."

"Hmmm… I wonder why."

"Thermal inertia, I think. If it gets too warm, I start to smell a bit unpleasant up close. Summer's going to be a real treat."

"Well, you've got no discernible pulse in your wrist." He raised his hand up toward Cam's neck. "Do you mind?"

Cam bent forward. Ben placed his fingers against the side of his neck. "No pulse at the carotid."

"That's the jugular side. Trust me—I've learned my veins and arteries." Ben wrinkled up his nose. "Oops. Harper says I have bad breath. I don't know if that's part of the condition, or if I've just forgotten to brush in a while. I've sorta lost track of time. This thing kind of bums me out."

"I can imagine." Ben leaned back in his chair and Cam came back to the couch. "Well, you certainly seem to be… undead. Do you know what your body temperature is?"

"Not sure. Most regular thermometers won't register at all. I think it hovers around sixty, but that's just a guess."

"I think that alone would qualify you for dead. It's the undead part I'm wondering about. Maybe you're a zombie."

"Don't think so," said Cam, sitting back. "I do seem to have a will of my own and I don't have any interest in human flesh, just blood— though I don't really need much more than a cup or so most of the time. I don't like the sun. I don't cast much of a shadow, or a reflection—at least not that I can see. Sometimes I can make people think I'm invisible. Except Harper."

"What happened to your arm?" Ben asked. "You keep cradling it."

"Some jerk broke it earlier tonight with a crowbar, then Harper shot me."

Ben glared at me. "Shot you?"

I glared back. "He started to attack me."

"Hey, it's all right," Cam cut in. "I deserved it. Besides, it'll be OK soon. I heal fast."

Ben started toward Cameron. "Let me take a look at that."

He was staring at the closed bullet hole when Mara came in. He jumped when she spoke.

"What are you up to, Ben?" she asked.

"Looking at this wound. It's amazing."

"Ben. He's not a specimen. He's a guest. Don't be rude."

Ben looked sheepish and retreated to his chair as Mara set a tray of pie and coffee on the table. She handed out mugs and plates as she spoke.

"Harper says you're in need of a place to stay. How did that come about?"

"I… was sleeping in my car and a couple of featherless bipeds broke in," Cameron explained.

"Featherless… oh," she added and began laughing. "That won't do."

"He seems trustworthy enough," Ben suggested. "If it's all right with you, I'd be glad to have Cameron stay."

"You shan't stay up and examine him all night, now will you?"

"Mara…."

"Oh, all right. I don't mind. Albert says he's promised to be good and you can't make promises lightly to ghosts."

Cameron looked startled. Mara gave him a stern look, then broke up. "It's all right. Albert won't task you, though he'll probably follow you about. He's very protective. Do you need anything special?"

"Um, no," Cam stammered. "I don't think so. I'm kind of nervous without my dirt, but I think I'll be OK. This is still Seattle, after all. Especially in the basement, I think I'll be close enough to the dirt to be OK."

"What's this about dirt?" Ben asked.

Cameron was about to launch into an explanation about native earth when Mara passed him a slice of pie. Cameron gazed at it with nostalgic longing and refused.

"No?" said Mara.

"Oh, no. It looks delicious—it's just that… uh, I can't…," he stumbled.

"Allergy?" she asked.

"No, I puke."

Ben and I cringed, but Mara laughed.

"You're not very good at lying, are you?"

"Terrible."

"You'll have to learn. All right?"

Cameron nodded.

"Ah, well. I'm certain Ben will find a spot for this slice, too."

Ben looked up from his already half-eaten slice. "Hmm… well, OK."

"What do you do, Cameron?" Mara asked. "Aside from the obvious."

He sipped his coffee and answered slowly, "Urn, I was a student at the U."

"Are you graduating, then?"

Ben fidgeted. "Mara…"

"Oh, Ben. I shan't embarrass the lad by asking him awful questions like your sister did me. Don't be so silly. So," she continued, turning her bright green stare back to Cam.

"I… I'm on a leave of absence from school for a little while. For medical reasons."

"That's better."

"Thank you."

"What are you studying?"

"Well, I'm not sure if I'm going to go back."

"Whyever not? Learning's a marvelous thing, if you can manage to avoid an education."

"What?"

"The indoctrination. The interchangeable parts result. You know what I mean, I'm sure."

"Oh, yes," he replied. He played with his cup and sipped his coffee again. "That's one of the things that's been bothering me. I don't know what to do with myself—if I survive this. What do I do with my… Me?"

"You've a few things to work out first, I imagine. Still, knowledge for its own sake is worthwhile, if you can afford the tuition. There's a gentleman in one of my lectures—he's fifty-nine, I think—who's working on his fourth degree. He's got loads of credits, so he just keeps taking classes, and occasionally he completes a curriculum quite by accident and they give him another piece of paper. He's having a grand time."

Cameron looked thoughtful. "I hadn't really looked at it that way. I… have time."

"What are you going to do first?"

"I need to solve some problems. Harper is going to help me."

"Hey," I objected. "I haven't said yes yet."

Cameron grinned at me and the pie tap-danced in my belly. "You're not going to say no."

I found myself pressing back into the couch and starting to nod.

Mara cleared her throat as Ben leaned forward. Albert formed in heavy mist by Cameron's elbow, flickering like a wet flame.

Cam jumped. "What?" I relaxed.

Mara had narrowed her eyes. Albert drifted toward her.

"Um…. Cameron," Ben started. "Whatever you just did, I don't think you should do that."

"What? What did I do?"

"That was a geas," Mara said. "Persuasion by psychic force. Bad form to try it on your friends."

"I can do that? I thought that was a myth."

"Apparently not. You have power—or you will have. You mustn't abuse it."

Cameron's eyes grew round. "I didn't mean to. I really didn't."

I stood up and grabbed my cup and plate. "It's all right," I lied. "No big deal. I'm just going to take these to the kitchen."

Mara got up, too. "You lads chat. I'll help Harper with the dishes."

Mara closed the kitchen door behind us.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I assured. "He didn't mean to do whatever he did. I just needed to get away from it. Have I done the wrong thing, bringing him here?"

"Not at all. That lad needs help. Between us, I'm sure we'll get it all settled just fine. Ben and I were busy before you arrived. There'll be nothing to worry about. So long as we make it through the night safely."

I slept poorly with Mara's comment in my head and, having agreed to meet Quinton at nine a.m., I had to rise at seven, but I did not shine.

Quinton was waiting with the Camaro outside my office building.

"Morning!" he greeted as I walked up. "Figured you'd be punctual. She's all ready to go."

"What did you do, get up at five?" I asked.

"Nope. Didn't go to bed."

"You stayed up all night to work on Cameron's car?"

"No. I was going to be up all night anyway, so I just tacked on a couple of hours at the end. It was pretty easy once I had the part. We tested the system out about an hour ago and it works just fine. Your guy should be happy with it."

"Why don't you like him?"

He glowered at me. "I've never been very fond of his kind. They put my hackles up. I didn't mean to be a jerk, it just came out."

"That's OK, but try to be a little smoother about it next time."

"You think there's going to be a next time?"

"Well," I said, "I'm beginning to think there could be."

"Oh? Are your clients getting shady?"

"More than you can know."

"Judging from this one, I can guess. Well, I'm always available. There are some things I won't do, but I can't imagine you asking me to do them."

"Don't be too sure, Quinton. You don't know me and my business as well as you think you do."

He gave me a Cheshire-cat smile. "Don't hesitate to call."

I bought him a cup of coffee—more because I needed one than because he wanted one—and he gave me his bill and explained the system to me. We disarmed and armed it twice, just to make sure.

"Thanks, Quinton. Could you drive the car up to Queen Anne with me?"

"Sure, if you'll answer a question for me. What's with the dirt?"

"Dirt?"

"Yeah. The trunk has an inch-thick layer of dirt in it under a blanket. I had to move it to run some of the wires. So I ask you—who keeps dirt in their trunk?"

"Someone who's very eccentric."

He quirked an eyebrow at me, but didn't argue.

We drove up to the Danzigers' house and I asked Quinton to wait in the Rover. Ben answered my knock.

"I brought Cam's car," I explained, pointing it out and offering him the keys. "How's he doing?"

"Uh, fine, I guess. No problems last night and he seems to be… asleep. You just missed Mara. She had a faculty meeting this morning."

"That's all right. Did you stay up all night? I don't see those jackass ears you swore Mara would curse on you if you did."

"No, no, she was fine with it, but… Look, Harper, there are some things I'd like to discuss with you."

"Anything drastic?"

"No, but there's something really weird going on. Mara said something about ripples. She's afraid things worse than the guardian may be attracted to you."

"Make my morning, Ben. Am I in danger this second?"

"She didn't think so."

"Then it'll have to wait."

"It can wait a little," Ben conceded.

I handed him Cameron's keys. "OK. The little doodad on the key ring will disarm the alarm. Make sure you tell Cameron about it when you give him the keys or he'll set off the alarm and your neighbors will be all over you. I'll call you when I'm free," I added.

Ben looked bemused, but I couldn't take time to chat with him while Quinton was giving me the hairy eyeball from my own front seat.

On the way back, Quinton frowned at me for the first five blocks.

"What is it?" I demanded.

"I'm just worried, that's all."

"About what?"

"Just got a bad feeling about this situation."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. Call it a prejudice of mine. I just don't like your boy, I guess. Bugs me a bit to see someone as nice as you get involved in things that are… creepy."

"I can manage creepy just fine, Quinton. I work in Pioneer Square. I've seen plenty of creepy."

He shrugged and went silent, but kept glowering all the way back.

I was glad when I was in my own office and Quinton had wandered off. Skulking about on business for the undead made me feel like a character in film noir, and Quinton's comments about the creepiness of it all hadn't made me feel any better. I was also wondering how I was going to write this up in my case notes.

Though I had found Cameron, I still had questions itching at my brain and an irresistible desire to scratch them, especially if I was going to take on Cameron's proposal. I called the TPM corporate office and started digging to discover who had been using the condo during the dates Sarah stayed there. I finally found a real estate lawyer named Sweto with a chip on her shoulder that could have supported a couple single-family residences with room for large backyards. We talked misconduct, lawsuits, and criminal charges, and it was no fault of mine if she got the impression we shared a profession.

"TPM has interests in many real estate ventures in the Seattle area," she informed me. "In point of fact, we own the building and lease several suites in it back from the management firm for tax reasons. We also have investments in nonresidential commercial property and many other business ventures not related to real estate."

"And who was using this particular suite at the time in question?"

As fast as she'd opened up, she clammed shut. "That information is privileged."

"Oh, come on, Sweto. It's not like I can't find out."

"I'm sorry. You won't find out from me. Not unless you have a subpoena."

"A what?"

"What sort of case was this again?"

"Misconduct."

"Sorry. I can't talk any further. You'll need a subpoena for me to release that information. Have a nice day." And she hung up on me.

My native curiosity was now leavened with irritation. I went up to the records office and killed several hours looking for deeds and business licenses. They wouldn't give me the names, but they'd give me a start on cracking TPM's shell.

The corporation was privately held, so deep information on TPM was difficult to find, but I made phone calls and one of my contacts offered to fax me everything he had. Another came up with a list or newspaper articles that mentioned TPM. By the end of the day, I expected to be adrift in TPM-related paper.

While those bits of information dribbled in, I tried Philip Stakis's number again.

A woman answered. "Hello?"

"Hello, I'm trying to reach Philip Stakis. Do I have the correct phone number?" I asked.

The woman gasped. "Oh, my God," she shouted. "Can't you just leave us alone?"

"Please don't hang up!" I begged. "I'm not a solicitor or a lawyer or anything like that. I'm a private investigator and I'm just trying to find a piece of furniture." What the hell…?

"Furniture? Oh, yeah, right," she snapped.

"No, really. My client is looking for an old parlor organ that Mr. Stakis bought from Chet Ingstrom of Seattle back in 1990."

She was silent a moment, then said, "Really?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Well, we don't have it anymore," she stated in a Long Island drawl.

I restrained my urge to swear. "What happened to it? Do you know, or should I ask Mr. Stakis?"

She laughed harshly. "You'll have a hard time. Phil's dead."