Page 82 of Starved Until Sunset

“Right then,” Michael said. “We should move on. Keep an eye out for any other vampires.”

Demetrius felt the breeze as the doctor ran off. Laughter and shouting from the other end of the alley caught his attention. A group of people just a few years younger than him walked past on the sidewalk. They were laughing and joking, some wearing werewolf ear headbands, two sporting t-shirts that read Paranormal Hollow, PA. Demetrius longed to be part of a group like that. Carefree and indulging his interest in spooky things without full knowledge of the terrifying realities happening behind the scenes. Without the weight of so many lives on his shoulders, and so much blood staining his hands. Without so many arguments between him and Cody.

“I guess we should keep patrolling?”

Dave’s question brought him back to the moment. “Yeah, let’s stay in motion.” He started to turn away, then looked around. “Where’s Clarabell?”

“She wanted to go back to the library,” Oliver said. “So she dropped us off at home to get my car, and then she headed that way. Said she wanted to ask Tracey some more questions.”

“Okay.” Demetrius looked at Deputy Walsh. “I know you’ll keep us informed, but I have to ask. Anything new?”

She shook her head. “Just Mischief Night stuff, and a lot of drunk and disorderly.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.”

“I hear that.” She tapped the large silver crucifix hanging around her neck outside of her uniform. “Stay safe.”

“You, too.”

Demetrius followed Amelia and Eileen back down the alley toward the street. The girl and the young man who had been attacked were gone. Demetrius hoped she listened to him and got them out of town quickly. He was also glad to see no sign of their client Baron as they waded through the people on the sidewalk and got back into the Cadillac.

Geraldine, Demetrius thought with a sad smile, running his hands around the steering wheel. Cody had named her Geraldine.

“Ready?” he asked.

Amelia and Eileen both brandished squirt guns. “Ready,” they said together.

Demetrius smiled grimly. “Those vampires had better watch out.”

Downtown quickly became chaotic, so Demetrius left the main strip and headed to the outskirts. He circled the high school parking lot, taking his time and thinking about leaving school through the doors at that end of the building with Cody beside him. Sometimes they would take the bus, but if the weather was good they’d walk home, talking about all the bullshit things they used to back then. Demetrius missed those times and casual conversations. When this was all over, he needed to make a point to just talk with Cody about something other than the business they used to own and the insane monster cases they got wrapped up in. He needed that back in his life. They both did. And he wasn’t going to entertain the idea that he might lose Cody.

The marching band was on the football field running through a routine, and he stopped at the far end of the field to watch.

“I was in marching band,” Amelia said.

“You were?” Demetrius saw her wistful smile. “I didn’t know that. What instrument did you play?”

“Oh God, I hope it was the tuba,” Eileen said, and they all laughed.

“No. I played flute.”

“I had no idea, Aunt Amelia,” Demetrius said. “I love that.”

“Frankie Brangstrom played the tuba.” Amelia said. “And he used to fart in time with his parts. Made the whole band room stink, especially after Salisbury steak day in the cafeteria.”

They laughed again, and it felt so good they let it roll on for a lot longer than warranted. When they had settled again, Demetrius looked back at the field. The band teacher was talking, so they’d stopped playing. The lights gleamed off the brass of the horns, and a breeze ruffled the feathers of the ridiculous hats each student wore.

He squinted slightly and thought back to when he attended Friday night games during high school. The Parson’s Hollow Barracudas were a middle of the pack team, but they had heart and drive. He could still recall how big and perfect and beautiful Cody looked in his uniform. White pants clinging to him like a second skin, grass stained from his efforts. When he came off the field and removed his helmet, his wild and shaggy hair had been matted with sweat, and his smile shone brighter than the lights overhead.

“Okay, let’s check a little farther out of town,” Demetrius said, blinking away tears and clearing his throat. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and catch a vampire hitchhiking or something.”

“What about the pastor?” Eileen said. “For the Renfield.”

“Father Krasniewski?” Amelia said.

“No, not him. Hell, he blessed our jugs of water.” Eileen brandished her squirt gun. “I was asking about Pastor Campbell.”

“Roland?” Amelia said in surprise. “Oh, no. I don’t see that at all.”