Kitty and the Midnight Hour Part 16

"I was brought inside the main tent. It looked like a church service, an old-fashioned revival, with the congregation gathered before a stage. A man on the stage called to me."

"This was Smith? What's he like?"

"Hea"he looks very normal." Of course. She probably wouldn't even be able to pick him out of a lineup. "I expected to be preached at, lectured with all the usual biblical quotes about witches and evildoers. I didn't care; I would have sat through anything if it meant being cured. But he didn't. He spoke about the will to change. He asked me if I wanted to change, if I had the will to help him reach into my soul and retrieve my mortality, my Me. Oh, yes, I said. His words were so powerful. Then he set his hands on my head.

"It was real, Kitty. Oh, it was real! He touched my face, and a light filled me. Every sunrise I'd missed filled me. And the hungera"it faded. I didn't want blood anymore. My whole body surged, like my own blood returned. My skin flushed. I was mortal again, alive and breathing, like Lazarus. I really was! He showed me a cross and I touched ita"and nothing happened. I didn't burn. He made me believe I could walk in the sun."

When Estelle first started talking, I thought I'd gotten someone who'd been disillusioned, who'd be ready to expose Smith's secrets and tell me exactly why he was a fake. But Estelle didn't talk like a disillusioned ex-follower. She still believed. She spoke like a believer who had lost her faith, or lost her belief in her own right to salvation.

I had to ask: "Could you, Estelle? Could you walk in the sun?"

"Yes," she said, her voice a whisper.

G.o.dd.a.m.n it. A cure. I felt a tickle in my stomach, a piece of hope that felt a little like heartburn. A choice, an escape. I could have my old life back. If I wanted it.

There had to be a catch.

I kept my voice steady, attempting journalistic impartiality. "You stayed with him for four months. What did you do?"

"I traveled with the caravan. I appeared onstage and witnessed. I watched sunrises. Smith took care of me. He takes care of all of us."

"So you're cured. That's great. Why not leave? Why don't those who are cured ever go away and start a new life for themselves?"

"He's our leader. We're devoted to him. He saves us and we would die for him."

She was so earnest, it made me wonder if I was being set up. But I was close to something. Questions, more questions. "But you want to leave him now. Why?"

"Ita"it's so stifling. I could see the sun. But I couldn't leave him."

"Couldn't?"

"Noa"I couldn't. All I was, my new self, it was because of him. It was likea he made me."

Oh, my. "It sounds a little like a vampire Family. Devoted followers serving a Master who created them." For that matter it sounded like a werewolf pack, but I didn't want to go there.

"What?"

"I have a couple of questions for you, Estelle. Were you made a vampire against your will or were you turned voluntarily?"

"Ita"it wasn't against my will. I wanted it. It was 1936, Kitty. I was seventeen. I contracted polio. I was dead anyway, or horribly crippled at best, do you understand? My Master offered an escape. A cure. He said I was too charming to waste."

I developed a mental picture of her. She'd look young, painfully innocent even, with the clean looks and aura of allure that most vampires cultivated.

"When did you decide you didn't want to be a vampire anymore? What made you seek out Elijah Smith?"

"I had no freedom. Everything revolved around the Master. I couldn't do anything without him. What kind of life is that?"

"Unlife?" Ooh, remember the inside voice.

"I had to get away."

If I were going to do the pop-psychology bit on Estelle, I'd tell her she had a problem with commitment and accepting the consequences of her decisions. Always running away to look for a cure, and now she'd run to me.

"Tell me what happened."

"I was mortal nowa"I could do whatever I wanted, right? I could walk in broad daylight. I was a.s.signed screening duty at the front gate two nights ago. I lost myself in the crowd and never went back. I found a hiding place, an old barn I think. In the morning, I walked past the open door, through the sunlighta"and I burned. The hunger returned. Hea"he withdrew his cure, his blessing. His grace."

"The cure didn't work."

"It did! But I had lost my faith."

"You burned. How badly are you hurt, Estelle?"

"Ia"I only lost half my face."

I closed my eyes. That pretty picture of Estelle I had made disintegrated, porcelain skin bubbling, blackening, turning to ash until bone could be seen underneath. She ducked back into shade, and because she was still a vampire, immortal, she survived.

"Estelle, one of the theories about Smith says that he has some sort of psychic power. It isn't a cure, but it shields people from some of the side effects of their naturesa"vulnerability to sunlight and the need for blood in the case of vampires, the need to shape-shift in the case of lycanthropes. His followers must stay with him so he can maintain it. It's a kind of symbiotic relationshipa"he controls their violent natures and feeds off their power and attention. What do you think?"

"I don't know. I don't know anymore." She sniffed. Her voice was tight, and I understood now where her hushed lisp was coming from.

Matt came into the studio. "Kitty, there's a call for you on line four."

Four was my emergency line. Only a couple of people had the number. Carl had it. I bet it was him, still trying to be protective.

"Can't it wait?"

"No. The guy threatened me pretty soundly." Matt shrugged unapologetically. He'd let me mess with the threats from the supernatural world. One of these days he was going to quit this gig, and I wouldn't be able to blame him. I needed to get Ozzie to give him a raise.

"Estelle, hang on for just a minute. I'm still with you, but I have to take a break." I put her on hold, punched the line, and made sure it wasn't set to broadcast. The last thing I needed was Carl lecturing me on the air. "What?"

"h.e.l.lo, Katherine," said an aristocratic male voice.

It wasn't Carl. Oh, no. Only one other person besides my grandmother ever called me Katherine. I'd met him only a couple of times in person, during territorial face-offs with Carl and the pack. But I knew that voice. That voice made my bone marrow twinge.

"Arturo. How the h.e.l.l did you get this number?"

"I have ways."

Oh, please. On the phone, behind the microphone, I had the power. I switched the line over to live. "h.e.l.lo, Arturo. You're on the air."

"Katherine," he said tightly. "I wish to speak to you privately."

"You call me during the show, you talk to my listeners. That's the deal." Maybe if I was brazen enough, I'd forget that he'd tried to have me killed.

"I do not appreciate being treated like your rabblea""

"What do you want, Arturo?"

He took a deep breath. "I want to talk to Estelle."

"Why?"

"She's one of mine."

Great. This was getting complicated. I covered the mike with my hand. "Matt, how does three-way calling work again?"

A few seconds later, I had Estelle back on the line. "Estelle? You still there?"

"Yes." Her voice was trembling. She swallowed.

"Okaya"I have Arturo on the other linea""

She groaned like I'd just staked her. "He'll kill me. He'll kill me for leaving hima""

"On the contrary, my dear. I want to take you home. You're hurt and need help. Tell me where you are."

Her breath hiccupped. She was crying. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorrya""

"It's far too late for that," he said, sounding tired.

I couldn't believe what I was about to say. "Estelle, I think you should listen to him. I don't know what I can do for you. Arturo can get you to a safe place."

"I don't believe him. I can't go back, I can't ever go back!"

"Estelle, please, tell me where you are," Arturo said.

"Kitty?" Estelle said, her voice small.

"Arturoa"you promise you aren't going to hurt her?"

"Katherine, you're being harsh."

"Promise."

"Katherine. Estelle is mine. She is part of me. If she is destroyed, part of me is destroyed as well. I have an interest in protecting her. I promise."

Drama, tension, excitement! What a great setup for a show! But at the moment I would have given my pelt to have the whiny goth chicks back.

"I'm going to break for station identification. When we return, I hope I'll have a wrap-up for you on our sudden special broadcast of 'Elijah Smith: Exposed.' " I switched the phone lines off the air and said, "All right, Estelle. It's up to you."

"Okay. Okay. Arturo, come get me. I'm at the Speedy Mart on Seventy-fifth."

Arturo's line clicked off.

"You okay, Estelle?" I asked.

"Yeah. Yes, I'm all right." She had stopped crying and seemed almost calm. The decision had been made. She could stop running, for a little while at least.

I had one more call to makea"to the cavalry, just in case. I should have called the police. Hardina"she'd help Estelle. Yeah, she'd take Estelle to a hospital. And they wouldn't know what to do with her. They wouldn't understand, and it would take too long to explain.

A normal person would have called the police. But I pulled a sc.r.a.p of paper out of my contact book, got an outside line, and dialed. After six rings, I almost hung up. Then, "Yeah." Mobile phone static underlaid the voice.

"Cormac? Have you been listening to the show tonight?"

"Norville? Why would I be listening to your show?"

Oh, yeah, he could pretend, but I knew the truth. He'd listened once, it could happen again. "One of my callers is in trouble. Arturo says he'll help her, but I don't trust him. I want to make sure she doesn't get caught in a cross fire. Can you go help? Make sure n.o.body dies and stuff?"

"Arturo? Arturo is helping? She's a vampire, isn't she." It might have been a question, but he didn't make it sound like one.

"Yeah, actually."

"You're out of your mind."

"Yup. Look, chances are Arturo will get to Estelle first and the Church people won't even find her. But if the Church people do show up, they'll have some pretty hardhitting supernaturals with them. You might get to shoot one."

"Whoa, slow down. Church?"

"Church of the Pure Faith."

"Hm. A buddy of mine was hired to go in there and never got through. I've been wanting to get a look at them."

"Here's your chance," I said brightly.

"Right. I'll check it out, but no promises."

"Good enough. Thanks, Cormac." I gave him the address. He grunted something resembling a sign-off.

Matt was signaling through the window. Time up. On-air light on. Okay. "We're back to The Midnight Hour. Estelle?"

"Kitty! A car just pulled up. It's not Arturo; I think it's people from the Church. They'll kill me, Kitty. We're not supposed to leave; they'll take me back and thena"I've told you everything and now everybody knowsa""

"Okay, Estelle. Stay down. Help's on the way."

Matt leaned in and didn't bother to m.u.f.fle his voice for the mike this time. His expression was taut and anxious. He actually looked harried. "Line four again."

Maybe it was Arturo checking in. Maybe I could warn him. He was Estelle's only chance to get out of there. "Yeah?"

"Kitty, do you need help?" said a gruff, accusatory voice.

Not Arturo. Carl. Why was he worried about whether I needed help now of all times?

"I can't talk now, Carl." I hung up on him. I'd catch h.e.l.l for that later.

Carl and I were going to kill each other one of these days.

Switched lines again, had to double-check to make sure it was the right one. "Estelle? What's happening? Estelle?" A sound rustled over the mouthpiece, then a banging noise like something falling. My heart dropped. "Estelle?"