5

He slept, but not in oblivion. Garreth dreamed . . . frantic, terrifying dreams . . . of the alley and Lane tearing out his throat, of being Gerald Mossman, split open and shelled out on an autopsy table, of chasing joggers through Golden Gale Park and tearing out their throats to gulp down the salty fire of their blood. He fled from the murders, running back through the park to the Conservatory. Inside, though, it had become a library. Titles of the books glared from the spines in pulsating red lettering: Dracula, The Rise and Fall of the Roman Vampire, Foundation and Vampire, The Vampire Strikes Back.

Spinning away from the stacks in revulsion, he found himself among a group of children sketching bats and wolves under Lien's direction. He started to back away but Lien caught his arm and, pushing him down in a chair, cradled his head against her chest.

"Hush, Garreth, hush." She rocked slightly, stroking his hair as he remembered her doing once after Marti died. "The superior man doesn't panic. Let's try studying this thing calmly. Look." She released him and began two lists on her sketch pad. "It's obvious that everything legends say about vampires isn't true. Yes, you rest best on earth, you smell and crave blood, and something is happening to your teeth. On the other hand, while daylight is uncomfortable and debilitating, it doesn't kill you. There's no nonsense with mirrors, either. That would violate physical laws. The subject needs more research, but perhaps most of the legend is false. Maybe you don't have to stop being the person you are, the person Harry and I love. Once your basic needs of rest and food are met, why shouldn't you be able to go on living your life as you always have? Do you understand, Garreth?" Her voice rose, became more insistent. "Garreth?"

That was a real voice, not a dream. He opened his eyes, waking as he had all his life, from sleep to awareness in a breath. That, at least, had not changed. The sky showed crimson through the tree above him and Lien knelt at his side with an expression of relief.

"You're the soundest sleeper I've ever seen," she said. "I don't think you moved all day. I couldn't even see you breathe. I kept coming out to make sure you were still alive." She paused. "Did you know it's almost impossible to feel your pulse? Your skin is cold, too. Garreth, please, please, let me take you back to the hospital."

He sat up stiffly, groping for the dream. An exploring tongue found his teeth looser. Had the dream Lien been right? Could he go on being the same person? "Isn't Harry home yet?"

"He called to say he'd be late. They're turning the city upside down looking for you."

Garreth flushed at the reproach in her voice. "Thanks for not giving me away."

"You needed the rest." She stood. "Come inside. It's freezing out here."

It did not seem so to him.

"What do you think you can stomach for supper?"

His throat burned. A cramp contracted his stomach. He let it pass before answering. "Just tea, please."

She turned around sharply. "This is ridiculous. You have to eat! Are you trying to kill yourself?"

Maybe that would be best. Dreams were often just dreams. He did not want to think about eating. "Please, Lien."

She fixed the tea and stood with arms folded, watching him sip it. "If you won't go back to the hospital, at least show up at Bryant Street long enough to let them know you're alive so they can go back to hunting people who deserve it."

He hated lying to her. He did it anyway. "All right. I'll turn myself in to Harry."

She hissed in exasperation. "Don't be childish. It isn't like that and you know it."

"I'm sorry." The tea curbed none of his hunger, none of the thirst, but at least its warmth soothed the cramps. He stood, clipped on his gun, and put on his coat.

Lien followed him to the door. "Please take care of yourself."

He hugged her. "I will. Thanks for everything. You're a super lady."

Picking up the car from around the corner, he drove to the public library in the Civic Center. The subject needed research, his dream Lien had said. From the books containing information on the vampire legend, he chose some half a dozen and after skimming them, copied a number of pages to study over multiple cups of tea in an all-night cafe. It went fine as long as he considered the information just research, as long as he did not think of it as applying to him personally. Once he let awareness seep in, though, all the horror, the dread, returned in an icy flood. His hands shook so much he could not hold either cup or papers.

It all seemed so preposterous, a nightmare. If only he would wake up. Or consider it just a delusion born of the trauma of Lane's attack.

He humored the delusion and resumed reading, still shaking. There appeared to be two kinds of vampires, those like Dracula who walked around talking and reasoning, and the zombies like Miss Lucy, mindless, dripping dirt and graveclothes, driven only by their lust for blood. Lucy had been bitten by Dracula, but he, like Mina Harker, had swallowed some of his attacker's blood in turn. Did that make the difference?

A question none of the reading answered, however, was why Lane let him live. She had broken Adair's and Mossman's necks to destroy their nervous system and prevent them from rising again. Why had she not done the same for him?

"Inspector Mikaelian?"

He started. A uniformed officer smiled down at him. "I saw your car out front. We've been looking for you."

It had been only a matter of time. Moving unhurriedly, Garreth folded the copied pages and slipped them into the inside pocket of his sport coat. "What are you supposed to do when you find me?"

"We've already called Lieutenant Serruto in Homicide."

Garreth stood. "Am I under arrest?"

The officer looked young. His eyes widened in shock. "Oh, no, Inspector. It's just an Attempt to Locate. You need medical treatment, the bulletin said."

"I don't, but doctors have to play God. Let's go."

They waited in the parking lot for Serruto. He arrived with Harry driving. The lieutenant did not bother getting out of the car, just rolled down the window. "Give one of the uniforms your car keys, Mikaelian. Drive the car to the lot at Bryant Street," he told the uniformed officers, "and leave the keys on my desk in Homicide. Get in, Mikaelian."

Garreth debated trying to run. Even fasting, he bet he could still outrun the rest of them. He weighed that against the suspicion bolting might raise.

"Get in," Serruto repeated in a voice with steel beneath it.

Garreth climbed in the back seat, eyes on the nonfunctional handle of the door closing behind him. Trapped!

"Thanks," Serruto told the officer, and then, as the car left the parking lot, "You monopolized a lot of manpower hours, Mikaelian."

Garreth slunk down in the seat, flushing guiltily.

"Mind telling me the meaning of this stunt?"

Wishing he sounded less defensive, Garreth said, "I don't like hospitals. I felt better but didn't think they would believe me."

"Really?" Harry said. "Lien called. She told me you were almost comatose all day."

"I won't go back to the hospital."

Serruto turned around on the seat to face Garreth. "We can raise a charge of assault to confine you if need be."

Garreth dug his nails into the palms of his hands. Be cool, man. Vampires can hypnotize with a look. Do it. He looked Serruto straight in the eyes, trying to remember what Lane had done to him. "I don't look sick to you, do I?"

Serruto stared back, eyes widening, then said in a flat voice, "No. What do you want to do, then? You can't come back on duty without an okay from a doctor."

"I know. I just want to rest at home for a few days. Then I'll go back for a checkup and let them run their blood tests or whatever." He continued to hold Serruto's eyes.

"All right. You have sick leave at home."

"Ah . . . could you arrange a new ID card and badge for me, and a temporary driver's license until I can replace the one in the evidence locker?"

"See me Tuesday about it."

Garreth bit his lip to keep from grinning. It worked!

"Why don't you stay at our place?" Harry asked. "We have a guest room."

That would not do at all. "I'd rather be home."

But Serruto had turned around again and was out of Garreth's influence. "You go to Takananda's tonight or we charge you with assault and take you to the hospital."

Garreth made himself smile. "Yes, sir."