he died.
CHAPTER SIX
W HEN S EAN FELT LIFE FLOWING back into his body that night, he was very hungry. He woke with his fangs out, ready to sink into some soft neck. But it was rare that Sean indulged himself in fresh human blood; these days, the sips he took from Rue were all he wanted. He pulled the synthetic blood from the refrigerator, and since he didn’t like it cold, he ran hot water in the bathroom and set the bottle in the sink while he showered. He hated to wash the scent of Rue from his skin, but he wanted to seem as normal as possible to the people he talked to tonight. The more humanlike a vampire could look and act, the more likely humans were to be open to conversation. Sean had noticed that interactions were easier for Thompson, who still had clear memories of what it was like to breathe and eat.
He’d written down the numbers and names from Rue’s book, just in case his memory played tricks with him. One of the numbers was self-explanatory—“Mom and Dad,” she’d written by it. “Les,” she’d written by another, and that was surely one he would have to explore; a single man might be a rival. The most interesting numbers were by the notation “Sergeant Kryder.” She’d labeled one number “police station” and the second number “home.”
Pineville looked like almost any small town. It seemed to be dominated by one big business—Hutton Furniture Manufacturing, a huge plant that ran around the clock, Sean noted. The sign in front of the library read Camille Hutton Library, and the largest church complex boasted a whole building labeled Carver Hutton II Family Life Center.
The tire company was owned by a Hutton, and one of the car dealerships, too.
There was no sign crediting the Huttons with owning the police force, but Sean suspected that might be close to the truth. He found the station easily; it was right off the town square, a low redbrick building. The sidewalk from the parking area to the front door was lined with azaleas just about to bloom. Sean opened the swinging glass door to see a young policeman with his feet up on the counter that divided the public and private parts of the front room. A young woman in civilian clothes—short and tight civilian clothes—was using a copier placed against the wall to the left, and the two were chatting as Sean came in.
“Yes, sir?” said the officer, swinging his feet to the floor.
The young woman glanced at Sean, then did a double take. “Vampire,” she said in a choked voice.
The man glanced from her to Sean in a puzzled way. Then he seemed to take in Sean’s white face for the first time, and he visibly braced his shoulders.
“What can I do to help you, sir?” he asked.
“I want to speak with Sergeant Kryder,” Sean said, smiling with closed lips.
“Oh, he retired,” called the girl before the young man could answer. The man’s name tag read “Farrington.”He wasn’t pleased at the girl’s horning in on his conversation with the vampire.
“Where might I find him?” Sean asked.
Officer Farrington shot a quelling glance at the girl and pulled a pencil out of his drawer to draw Sean a map. “You take a left at the next stop sign,” he told Sean. “Then go right two blocks, and it’s the white house on the corner with the dark green shutters.”
“Might be gone,” said the girl sulkily.
“Barbara, you know they ain’t left yet.”
“Packing up, I heard.”
“Ain’t left yet.” Farrington turned to Sean. “The Kryders are moving to their place in Florida.”
“I guess it was time for him to retire,” Sean said gently, willing to learn what he could.
“He took it early,” the girl said. “He got all upset about the Layla LeMay thing.”
“Barbara, shut up,” Officer Farrington said, his voice very sharp and very clear.
Sean tried hard to look indifferent. He said, “Thank you very much,” and left with the instructions, wondering if they’d call ahead to the ex-sergeant, warn him of
CHAPTER SIX
W HEN S EAN FELT LIFE FLOWING back into his body that night, he was very hungry. He woke with his fangs out, ready to sink into some soft neck. But it was rare that Sean indulged himself in fresh human blood; these days, the sips he took from Rue were all he wanted. He pulled the synthetic blood from the refrigerator, and since he didn’t like it cold, he ran hot water in the bathroom and set the bottle in the sink while he showered. He hated to wash the scent of Rue from his skin, but he wanted to seem as normal as possible to the people he talked to tonight. The more humanlike a vampire could look and act, the more likely humans were to be open to conversation. Sean had noticed that interactions were easier for Thompson, who still had clear memories of what it was like to breathe and eat.
He’d written down the numbers and names from Rue’s book, just in case his memory played tricks with him. One of the numbers was self-explanatory—“Mom and Dad,” she’d written by it. “Les,” she’d written by another, and that was surely one he would have to explore; a single man might be a rival. The most interesting numbers were by the notation “Sergeant Kryder.” She’d labeled one number “police station” and the second number “home.”
Pineville looked like almost any small town. It seemed to be dominated by one big business—Hutton Furniture Manufacturing, a huge plant that ran around the clock, Sean noted. The sign in front of the library read Camille Hutton Library, and the largest church complex boasted a whole building labeled Carver Hutton II Family Life Center.
The tire company was owned by a Hutton, and one of the car dealerships, too.
There was no sign crediting the Huttons with owning the police force, but Sean suspected that might be close to the truth. He found the station easily; it was right off the town square, a low redbrick building. The sidewalk from the parking area to the front door was lined with azaleas just about to bloom. Sean opened the swinging glass door to see a young policeman with his feet up on the counter that divided the public and private parts of the front room. A young woman in civilian clothes—short and tight civilian clothes—was using a copier placed against the wall to the left, and the two were chatting as Sean came in.
“Yes, sir?” said the officer, swinging his feet to the floor.
The young woman glanced at Sean, then did a double take. “Vampire,” she said in a choked voice.
The man glanced from her to Sean in a puzzled way. Then he seemed to take in Sean’s white face for the first time, and he visibly braced his shoulders.
“What can I do to help you, sir?” he asked.
“I want to speak with Sergeant Kryder,” Sean said, smiling with closed lips.
“Oh, he retired,” called the girl before the young man could answer. The man’s name tag read “Farrington.”He wasn’t pleased at the girl’s horning in on his conversation with the vampire.
“Where might I find him?” Sean asked.
Officer Farrington shot a quelling glance at the girl and pulled a pencil out of his drawer to draw Sean a map. “You take a left at the next stop sign,” he told Sean. “Then go right two blocks, and it’s the white house on the corner with the dark green shutters.”
“Might be gone,” said the girl sulkily.
“Barbara, you know they ain’t left yet.”
“Packing up, I heard.”
“Ain’t left yet.” Farrington turned to Sean. “The Kryders are moving to their place in Florida.”
“I guess it was time for him to retire,” Sean said gently, willing to learn what he could.
“He took it early,” the girl said. “He got all upset about the Layla LeMay thing.”
“Barbara, shut up,” Officer Farrington said, his voice very sharp and very clear.
Sean tried hard to look indifferent. He said, “Thank you very much,” and left with the instructions, wondering if they’d call ahead to the ex-sergeant, warn him of
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