Bite Me (18 page)

“Come again,” she said.

He started to leave, and then looked at the burned-up girl’s map and saw the pictures of the pig, cow, and fish, and realized that it was going to be an ordeal to explain to a butcher what he needed, so he called to the salesgirl.

“Excuse me. Could you do me a favor, please?”

On a fresh piece of pink stationery with red and silver hearts on it, she wrote in English:
4 quarts, cow, pig, or fish blood.
It would be much easier dealing with a new butcher
with an order slip to hand them. He thanked her again, bowed, and left the store.

It was no small irony that when he finally found a butcher who could sell him blood, it was a Mexican in the Mission who had to have Okata’s one-item shopping list translated into Spanish. Of course, he had blood. What self-respecting Mexican butcher didn’t save the blood for Spanish blood sausage? Okata didn’t understand any of that. He only understood that after walking half the City carrying jeans, sneakers, and a pink bag of underwear, he finally had a gallon of fresh blood for his burned-up
gaijin
girl. After he left the shop the butcher went to the phone and dialed the number on the card the police inspector had left for him.

Okata went against his normal discipline and took the F car instead of walking. He rode the antique streetcar all the way down Market Street, past the Ferry Building, and a few blocks up the Embarcadero, where he got off and took a moment looking at the extraordinary black sailing ship that was docked at Pier Nine, before dragging his gallon of pig’s blood home.

He was sitting beside the futon with a big grin and a tea cup full of pig’s blood when she awoke.

“Hello,” he said, with a great grin.

“Hello,” said the burned-up girl, her fangs showing when she smiled. Her hair had grown through the day, and now hung down to her chest, but it was dry and crispy.

Okata handed her the cup and steadied her hand while she gulped the blood. When she finished he gave her a
paper napkin and refilled the tea cup, then sat down and drank tea from his own cup while she sipped the blood. He watched the color move over her skin like there was a pink light moving there, and she began to fill out, the flesh coming up on her bones as if she was being inflated.

“Did you eat?” she said. She made the motion of chop-sticks scooping rice and pointed to him. No, he hadn’t eaten. He’d forgotten to eat.

“No,” he said. “Sorry.”

“You need to eat. Eat.” She made the motion and he nodded.

While she drank her third cup of blood he retrieved a rice ball from his little refrigerator and nibbled it. She smiled at him and toasted his tea cup with her cup of blood.

“There you go. Mazel tov!”

“Mazel tov!” said Okata.

They toasted and he ate and she drank blood, and he watched as her smile became full and her eyes bright. He showed her what he had found for her at the Levi’s store and the Nike store, and at Victoria’s Secret, although he looked away and tried to hide a little-boy grin when he showed her the red satin bra and panties. She praised him and held the clothes up to her body, then laughed when they looked too big and took a big gulp of the blood, spilling it down the sides of her mouth and on the kimono.

And she saw his new shoes, too, and pointed and winked. “Sexy,” she said. He felt himself blush and then grinned and did a little dance step, a universal Snoopy dance of ecstasy
to show just how comfortable the shoes were. She laughed and ran her hand over them while rolling her eyes.

After he had drank a whole pot of tea and she almost a whole gallon of blood, she sat up on the edge of the futon and threw her thick red hair back over her shoulders. She was no longer a charred skeleton, a burned-up wraith, a desiccated marble crone, but a voluptuous young woman, as pale as snow, as cool as the room, but as vibrant and alive as anyone he had ever seen.

Her kimono fell open when she stretched and he looked away.

“Okata,” she said. And he looked at her feet. “It’s okay.” She closed her robe, then ran her hand over his cheek. Her palm was cool and smooth and he pressed into it.

“I need a shower,” she said. “A shower?” She mimed washing, falling rain.

“Yes,” he said. He brought her a towel and a bar of soap, then presented the shower, which stood open to the room next to a pedestal sink. The toilet was in a little closet on the other side.

“Thank you,” she said. She stood and let the kimono slide off her shoulders, laid it carefully on the futon, then took the towel and soap and walked to the shower, throwing a smile over her shoulder at him as she stepped into the tray.

Okata sat, dropped really, onto the little stool by the futon, and watched as she washed the last bit of ash from her skin, then let the water stream over her until the whole
apartment was full of steam, weariness, and wonder.

He picked up his sketch pad from the floor and began to draw.

He watched her move like a spirit in the steam, drying herself and then combing her hair out with her fingers. She came out of the steam, dropped the towel on the floor by his workbench. He looked away as she approached and she knelt and raised his chin with her finger until he had to look at her. Her eyes were as green as a jade plant.

“Okata,” she said. “Thank you.”

Then she kissed him on the forehead, then on the lips, and ever so gently, she took away his sketch pad, and dropped it to the floor, then pushed him back on the futon and kissed him again as she unbuttoned his shirt.

“Okay,” he said.

M
uch like the guy in Herman Hesse’s novel
Steppenwolf
(which everyone knows means, “wolf going up the steps”) who runs into the
ENTRANCE NOT FOR EVERYBODY
sign outside of the Magic Theater, when it comes to romance, I am definitely not on the list. Loneliness is my “plus one.” Bitterness is my boo.

Oh, it was sweet waking up at sundown, nearly in the arms of my Dark Lord, snuggled up in our utility shed on the roof. I probably shouldn’t have snatched that pigeon out from under the eave and sort of sucked its little throat, but in my defense, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and I swore off anything with feathers because they are nasty. Still, I think Lord Flood would have forgiven me spitting bloody feathers on his linen trousers if my tail hadn’t harshed our search plan.

There, now everyone knows. I have a tail. Which is kinda the reason we had to return to the love lair instead of continuing our search for the Countess. Foo called just before sunup to say that all the rats had died.

So I’m like, “Non sequitur much, Foo? If you miss me, you can just apologize and grovel a little and we’ll move on.”

And he’s like, “No, Abby, you don’t understand. There’s something in their DNA, they just sort of expire after a week or so of being a vampyre.”

And I’m like, “My poor, sad Foo Dog, are you sure that your mantenna isn’t just using dead rats to send an S.O.S. for a return to tuna town? Hmmmm?”

And he’s all, “No, Abby, you have rat DNA tied in with your vampirism, the same way Chet has human DNA.”

And I’m all, “Nuh-uh.”

And he’s all, “You have to come back here. Abby, I know you have a tail.”

And I’m like, “Fucksocks,” and I offed my phone.

So when Flood and I come to in the shed on the roof, I’m like, “We may need to check in with Foo.”

And Flood is like, “Call him and tell him that there are old vampyres here to clean up. He needs to be ready. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

And I’m like, “I’ll text him. I’m not speaking to him right now.”

So, like, Tommy showed me how you couldn’t run too fast, or someone would notice something was up, so you had to sort of go in bursts and I wasn’t supposed to jump
over cars and whatnot because that shit is a dead giveaway that you are nosferatu. Although I did “rawr” some tourists on the cable car, because they needed it. And if you ask them they will all be, “She was
très
scary, and back in Cowfuck, Nebraska, we know that ‘rawr’ is totally a thing because we have family values and whatnot.”

So after running in bursts for like three blocks I rawred down a cab that was halted by my awesome dark powers and the hundred-dollar bill I was waving, and we rode to the love lair, where Jared let us in.

And Jared was all, “OMG, OMG, OMFG, Abs, the rats are dead!”

And I’m like, “Not news. Awesome vamp robot pirate ship, equals news.”

And Jared is like, “For realz?”

And I’m like, “Totes.”

And he kind of does a gayboy squee that was a little embarrassing, so I’m all, “Where’s Foo?”

And Foo comes out of the bedroom and I go to kiss him and he sort of stops and holds up his little blood vials, like, “Oh, no kisses, Abby, I have breakables.” So I backed off.

And he’s like, “Abby we need to change you back. Right away.”

And I’m like, “No way, Foo. I am finished with your petty human weakness.”

And he like waves to all the rat boxes, and all the rats are just lying in the bottom of them. And I’m all, “So?”

And Foo’s like, “They just dropped, within hours of
each other. There’s some incompatibility with the vampyre virus.”

“It’s a virus?” goes Tommy.

And Foo’s all, “I don’t know exactly what it is, but it binds to the host DNA and it carries the DNA to the infected.”

And I’m like, “So?”

And that’s when Foo blurts out that I have a tail to Flood, and I just want to crawl in a hole and die, except for it being redundant.

Then Jared’s like, “Would you guys like something to drink? Some blood or something?”

And I’m like, “No thanks, I had a pigeon.”

And Flood is like, “Yes, I’ll have some.”

And he’s about to take a sip from a wineglass that Jared poured, and I see his fangs, which are
très
sexy now that he’s not ripping my throat out with them, and he’s like, “Oh, Abby, if this turns out to be drugged, tear Steve’s arms off.”

And I’m like, “’Kay,” then to Foo, I’m like, “Rawr. Shut up.”

And Foo’s like, “It’s not drugged.”

So we tell Foo and Jared about the ship and the old vampyres and how they are here to clean house, and about what the Kona guy said about second generation vampyres.

And Foo’s like, “That’s you, Tommy.”

And Flood is like, “I know. I have to find Jody. And you and Jared need to get away from this apartment. Go
somewhere, stay until you hear it’s all clear or the
Raven
leaves.”

And Foo is like, “How did you think to go to the dock anyway?”

So we told him about Madame Natasha and the sunken ship in the north end of the City and whatnot, and he’s all rolling his eyes, because he doesn’t believe in magic, despite the fact that he’s rolling his eyes at two vampyres.

And he’s like, “Did you try the Sunken Ship?”

And we’re like, “Whaaaa?”

And he’s like, “It’s a bar down on Jackson Street. It was built on top of one of the Gold Rush ships that was abandoned there. You can still see the ribs of the ship in the basement.”

And Flood’s like, “The Sunken Ship? That’s what it’s called?”

And I’m like, “Kind of obvious.”

And Flood’s like, “We need to go there.”

And Foo’s all, “No, I have to change you both back. You could drop any minute.”

So I go, “As if. We have to find the Countess.”

And Tommy’s all, “After. All that after.”

So Foo goes, “Well, then take these.” And he gives Flood and me each a thing that looks like an aluminum flashlight with a blue glass erection.

And I’m all, “Uh, we can see in the dark, and heat, and we have someone on retainer who can see into the future, so, thanks, but…”

“They’re UV lasers,” goes Foo, in the middle of my dismissal. “They use them to fuse UV sensitive polymers in vacuum chambers.”

And Tommy looks at me like, “What?” And I look at him like, “No fucking idea.”

So Foo runs on like, “They would just burn me or Jared if you held it on us, like a high-intensity sunlamp. But you’d have to hold it there for about five seconds.”

So Flood looks at me like, “What?” And I look at him like, “I got nothing.”

So Foo takes Tommy’s flashlight from him and he goes, “Like this.” And he points the flashlight at one of the dead rat boxes and it busts out with this intense blue beam and
whoosh
instant rat charcoal.

So Flood and I are like, “Oh.”

“You can’t just leave them on like the UV jackets. They work with a capacitor that builds a charge and lets go with a two-second burst, but you can probably cut a vamp in half in that time. I made them for Rivera and Cavuto.”

And Tommy goes, “Well don’t give one to them, for fuck’s sake, they’re hunting me and Jody.”

“And me,” I go.

“And me,” goes Jared. And we look at him. And he goes, “Not because I’m a vampyre. Because that big cop hates me.” Then he looked embarrassed and he goes, “Hey, you guys, your eyes are bleeding.”

And I look at Tommy and I’m all, “WTF?”

And Foo’s like, “You guys should probably wear sun-
glasses with UV filtering if you’re going to use those, or, you know, they could hurt your eyes.”

So Flood’s like, “Good to know.”

And Foo’s like, “You should know that they can’t go to mist if they’re hurt or under exposure to any significant UV. I tested it with the rats. Which means you can’t either.”

And we’re all, “Uh-huh.”

And he’s like, “What will you do?”

And Flood is like, “We’re going to the Sunken Ship and see if we can find Jody, and then I guess we’re going to see if we can get on a pirate ship. What about you?”

“I have to break the lab down first, but I know some guys in my program at Berkeley that have an extra room. I can stay there.”

And Flood is like, “Take Jared with you. Elijah saw him. Anyone Elijah knows or who knew about him is in danger.”

And Jared is all, “Nooooo, Berkeley is way too butch.”

So I ’splain to Tommy, “Jared is afraid of butch lesbians. They were invented in Berkeley.”

And Foo is like looking at Jared, and looking at me, and looking at Flood, and looking at his dead rats, and he’s all, “Can’t you at least leave Abby here and let me change her back?”

And Flood looks at me and I’m all, “Bitch, please, I have a light sabre.” And I grabbed Foo and kissed him hard, but I could feel him pulling away.

And he’s like, “Abby, after this is over—”

And I’m like, finger on his lips, “Shh, shh, shh, Foo. Do
not awkwardize the moment with sniveling. I’ve been preparing my whole life for this.”

And I have.

So we jammed.

And outside Flood is like, “You okay?”

And I’m all, “Yeah. Do you think I’m a freak because I have a tail?”

And he’s all, “No, not because of that.”

Which was awesome for him to say.

So we did the low-profile walk to Walgreens, where we bought three pairs of sunglasses and a disposable cell phone for Tommy and I got some Gummi bears, which I am dipping in blood and eating now—biting off their little bear heads. Then we go over to the financial district and we find the bar called the Sunken Ship on Jackson Street in the old section, and there’s a big picture of a sailing ship, and
THE SUNKEN SHIP
is carved in big letters, and we’re not two blocks from the roof where we spent the night, and I’m all, “Oops.”

And Flood is like, “Now what?”

And I’m like, “Don’t you have fake ID?” I was kind of fucking with him for pretending to be five hundred years old when we first met, when he’s only nineteen.

And he’s like, “No, do you?”

“Yeah. Like six of them. I’ll go in and look around.”

And he’s like, “Okay.”

So I start to go inside, where all these suits and citizens are, and I hear, “Hey,” a girl’s voice. Quiet, but like she knows we can hear.

And it’s the Countess, palming a door shut on this below-street apartment. And she’s in like black jeans carrying a pair of Nikes, but her hair is all glorious, and in like an instant she’s up over the rail, not even touching the stairs, and in Tommy’s arms. And it was beautiful, and sad, and I felt my heart break, but then it was like leaping for joy, because I really do love the Countess, and I love Tommy, but they love each other, and well—fucksocks.

So I’m like, “Cold-faced killers on the clock, bitches, we don’t have time for your bonery right now.”

And the Countess like lets Tommy go and gives me a big hug and she’s like, “So, girl-e-girl, the dead thing, it works for you.”

And I’m like, “Duh.”

And she looks at Flood and she’s, “I’m not sure about the tropical thing though.”

And he’s like, “Abby sprayed pigeon blood on my pants.”

And she’s like, “No, that part’s good.”

And he’s like, “She has a tail.”

And I’m like, “Traitor!”

Then she looks all sad, and she’s like, “Tommy, we need to talk.”

And he’s like, “No, we need to move.”

So, while we walk toward the water we explain about the old vamps and the clean up, and the
Raven
and whatnot.

’Kayso, now we’re on the roof of the Bay Club, which is a really nice gym across the street from the dock, and we are staking out the
Raven,
and from up here we can see into
the cockpit, which is like the size of a whole apartment. And they’re there. The three of them and Kona, the blond Rasta guy. Two women and a guy. And they’re looking all fly in their black bodysuits and black trench coats and all. But the tall blond guy has something on the table, a long case, and he takes something out and starts putting it together.

I’m all, “What’s he got?”

“It’s a rifle,” goes the Countess.

WTF? WTF? WTF? I go, “A gun?”

And Tommy goes, “What’s with the gun?”

And I’m like, “Yeah, guns are for shit on vampyres. Uh, us.” I still totally don’t want to get shot.

And Jody’s like, “They’re not going after vampyres.”

And Tommy’s like, “Abby, would you stop typing. Please?”

And I’m like, “Rawr!”

And Jody’s like, “He’s leaving the ship.”

And I’m all, “WTF?”

And Jody’s all, “We have to follow.”

’Kayso, gotta jet. L8erz.