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Chapter Five

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She woke up abruptly, shaking with the stark, unnerving sense of lost time.

The driver's side door was open, and Krystal was leaning in, her hands braced against the seat. Her eyes looked luminescent, a hard bright glow to them in the dim space, and Hailey looked around, licking her lips uneasily, and realized that they were in an enclosed space and the only light was coming from the car itself.

"Up." Krystal said, snapping her fingers. "Come on inside, I'll fix you a martini."

"I don't drink alcohol." Hailey said, managing a demure tone through her exhaustion and confusion. "It slows me down."

"Good little street rat!" Krystal exclaimed, her tone so sarcastic Hailey mustered up a glare. "Fine, you can have some milk and cookies. Just get your ass inside, kid."

"Do you really have milk and cookies?" She asked as she climbed out of the passenger seat. She'd been totally insensible the ride over, but from what she'd seen being awake wouldn't have meant anything if Krystal had decided to kill her on a whim, so she tried not to let it bother her.

"Probably cookies." Krystal said, taking her arm. "Milk spoils. You'll make do with water."

She pulled Hailey through the dark until they reached a wall and keyed something in--Hailey heard the muted beeping--so that a door slid open, letting mellow light pour towards them.

Hailey made a wordlessly relieved sound and stepped forward; Krystal's hand on her arm jerked her back. The vampire girl gave her a scathing look, her gun out and pointed down at her side.

"Is someone here?" Hailey breathed, willingly backing into what had to be the garage again.

"I don't feel, hear or smell anyone." Krystal replied, charitably answering her question. "I'm going to check. Stay here."

The door slid shut behind her and Hailey stepped back until her thighs bumped the car's warm surface, chewing her lip and thinking about exactly how dangerous her life had become. And who'd paid the price already.

Hailey couldn't say that she hated her father. She couldn't articulate anything she felt about him. Fear and memory tangled unpleasantly in her; she hadn't been willing to leave the house her mother had loved even as it decayed, even as his temper became increasingly volatile and he became increasingly violent. She touched the bruise covering her cheek and eye and flinched, a shudder of pain and remembered terror chilling her spine. That would never happen again, not from him.

All she knew was that she was left dry eyed after his death.

When she lowered her arm, a thought occured to her and she shifted to clumsily push up her sleeve, splinted arm throbbing a sharp complaint. Sure enough, there were Krystal's fingers in stark bruised marks on her upper arm. The too-familiar sight made her flinch again. When had that happened? It must have been when she dragged her out of the house and to the car.

The door slid open again and Hailey looked up.

"It's clean," Krystal said, face expressionless. "Come on in."

The house, or apartment or whatever it was, was warm--a heatvein humming in the walls--and dimly lit, a color scheme in muted golds and browns. Krystal pointed her down a hall that, when investigated, led to a blandly anonymous bedroom. In anyone else's house it would have certainly been the guest bedroom, but Krystal didn't strike Hailey as the type of person to leave her stamp on a place that was as obviously and deliberately unmarked and for convenience as this.

"You want some cookies?" Krystal asked, standing in the door with a strange half-smile lingering on her mouth.

"I want some answers." Hailey said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pushing her hair over her shoulders with one awkward hand. Krystal stood there for a moment, silhouetted in the soft light from the hall, and then reached over and flipped the switch, making Hailey flinch at the sudden flare of harsh light.

The vampire girl walked into the room, face expressionless, and looked down at her. "I still don't understand what she sees in you."

"What?" Hailey sat up and blinked at her.

"Moria was concerned for you." She said, green eyes flashing. "She asked me to watch over you." Her smile was thin and dangerous. "I don't think she expected things to get exciting so soon."

Hailey's mind leapt wildly between conclusions. She opened her mouth, closed it, and then finally said, "the frame--"

"With the blood on it." Krystal agreed. "Someone's playing games."

"She asked you to?" Hailey gave it a questioning lilt. Moria knows Krystal? And Krystal--

"I owe her a favor." Krystal said with a careless shrug.

"Okay." Hailey said uneasily, not pursuing that subject further yet. "Do you know who they were?"

Krystal cocked her head to the side, watching Hailey for a long moment. Finally she said, "I have some idea. Do you know why anyone would be after you?"

Hailey wordlessly shook her head.

Krystal reached out again, brushing Hailey's hair away from her face again, and touched her cheek. Her fingers were cool and slim, very gentle, and Hailey knew she was looking at the birthmark. The urge to shake her hair in front of her face again resurfaced fiercely and she swallowed it down. "What?"

Krystal smiled strangely and released her. "Nothing."

"Are you going to tell me anything?" Hailey demanded, frustration flashing through her.

Krystal tapped her mouth. "I'm deciding whether or not I think you're worth the trouble."

Alarm jolted through Hailey and she froze. "I thought you said you owed Moria a favor."

"Yes," Krystal said, still smiling oddly. "That would be the trouble."

"I don't understand."

"I could deliver you to Moria, Hailey, and she would put you under lock and key to keep you safe. Or I could help you find some answers."

Hailey stared at her, torn between suspicion and interest. "Why would you?"

Krystal laughed and walked around to sit on the bed, scooting up to the pillows. She wasn't wearing shoes anymore, stockinged feet propped comfortably on the mattress. "Because my reputation is suffering, clearly." She explained, voice comfortable and warm. "He thought he could handle me. And as amusing as proving him wrong was, I no longer have the patience to go back to cutting down the upstarts who'll come in droves with their swelled little heads. So I'll go after the source. And--" She put a finger to the corner of her mouth. "--there are other advantages to helping you."

"Like what?" Hailey demanded.

"I've spilled enough information to you for one night, kid. Pick a or b and hurry it up."

Hailey stared at her, and then around at the room. "I want to find answers," she said carefully, "but I really don't want to die."

Krystal laughed again. "You don't have much faith in me, do you?"

Hailey opted for a noncommital shrug.

Krystal tapped her mouth, eyes bright with inheld laughter, shoulders relaxed. "Well then," she said, "I promise to play cautious, and we have a deal."

Hailey hesitated. "And you'll protect me?" She said uneasily. The words came out stilted and reluctant; however capable Krystal seemed, she couldn't trust her. But she couldn't let herself just be shut away in the dark, either, and she had nowhere else to go. She certainly wasn't going to put Kess in danger.

Krystal reached out and pulled on her hair. "Of course," she said, smiling, her eyes bright in the gloom, more than a hint of chilly sadistic pleasure in the expression. "It wouldn't be any fun otherwise."

Hailey was as far from reassured as a human being could possibly get.

She did have cookies, and some crackers, and a couple of containers of canned food in the corners of a dusty pantry. The house seemed incredibly desolate for all its luxury; Hailey ran cold water and filled a glass, then wandered back to her room with her food. It took a couple of trips because of her splinted arm; she'd tried to prop the supplies against her ribs with the splint, but it had sent a stab of pain through her nerves and she hadn't tried again.

She was eating crackers and scattering crumbs all over the bed when Krystal wandered back in. "I've called a healer for your arm," she said, eyeing it. "She'll be here tomorrow morning, and then we'll be on the move again."

“Oh.” Unease knotted in her belly. “When you say ‘healer’, you mean—”

“I mean a witch.” The vampire gave her a cold, glittering stare. “We go by my rules if we do this. No getting skittish.”

“Right.” Hailey bit into a cracker, shifting uneasily.

“Besides,” Krystal fanned out her fingers to examine her nails, a chilly little smile playing over the corners of her mouth. “Moria's a witch too, you know.”

Hailey nearly spat out her bit of cracker. “No, I didn’t really know that.” Not like it was hard to guess, and not like there hadn’t been whispers, but that was a bit bald of an announcement.

“You can tell by the flower.” Krystal’s eyes were shining with poorly inheld amusement.

“The black dahlia?” Hailey asked instantly. She hadn’t missed how much attention certain people paid to the symbol.

The vampire looked surprised, then laughed out loud. “I suppose you’re not as dumb as you look.” She remarked charitably. “Yes. It’s the witch’s symbol.”

“So,” Hailey swallowed hard. "Do you think you might know who's trying to kill me?"

Krystal overturned her palm and studied her fingers, expression thoughtful. "Some speculations on the 'who' are immediately available. I'm more interested in the why."

"I don't know," Hailey said, knowing she sounded exhausted. "You don't think--you don't think it could be someone Moria knew?"

"Hardly," Krystal said, fastidious and clipped. "Very few people would risk her ire--or the ire of those she can call favors from--and none of them would stoop to something as menial as human deaths."

Menial. A bubble of hysterical laughter welled up, was choked down. "At first I thought it might have been someone my father pissed off," she confessed. "But--"

Krystal laughed, and the ringing scorn in that answered her question.

"--I guess not."

"No," Krystal agreed, her voice still brimming with cruel laughter. "That little spoilt brat wasn't there wreaking havoc with his friends because your sot of a father ticked off low-level underworld humans. Think bigger. Think--" She tapped her temple, smile cold. "--expensive."

"I don't understand why anyone would want to kill me," Hailey confessed, and her voice shook. "But you know, don't you?"

"Oh, I have the beginnings of a guess," Krystal said lightly. "That's a famous face, right there." She tapped Hailey's cheek, finger lingering on the birthmark.

Hailey blinked, startled. "What? That's ridiculous."

Krystal leaned forward, her eyes lighting up with calculating intensity. "No, kiddo, it isn't. You're nearly a legend."

Hailey's mouth went dry. "I don't--I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm not surprised," Krystal admitted, leaning back again. Hailey had difficulty reading her; one moment she'd be vibrant and open as a book, the next cool and closed off. She was a little afraid, in the quiet room, of the vampire sitting so close and so obviously unconcerned. "Sometimes they remember from the start, but sometimes..."

"Who?" Hailey nervously put a cracker in her mouth when Krystal looked up at her again.

"Do you believe in reincarnation?" She sounded briefly almost wistful.

"What?" Hailey blinked; Krystal just continued to give her that blank, unhelpful stare. "I--no, or I don't know, and what does this have to do with the question?"

Krystal studied the bedspread, expression implacable. After a moment she swept a handful of crumbs off into her cupped palm. "I'm no good at this," she said, getting up. "I'll let Terry explain."

"What? Who's Terry?" Hailey scrambled to her feet and trailed her to the doorway, cradling her bag of crackers against her stomach. "Would someone just tell me what's going on?"

"Tomorrow." Krystal flipped the light off and then on. "Remember to get some sleep, and careful with that arm."

The last thing Hailey saw before the door swung shut was Krystal's bright smile beneath her dark, cold eyes, and it made her shiver. After a moment she put down the bag on the nondescript dresser.

"I don't have a toothbrush," she said to the warm, empty room.

Terry was a man with dark eyes, floppy dark hair and a sweet smile that only surfaced--nervously--when Krystal stalked out of the room. He unwound the bindings around the splint cautiously, examining her arm, and gave a short cheerful nod.

"It could be worse."

"It always could," Hailey agreed, curiously charmed by the softness of his voice. Or maybe she was just sympathizing with anyone as freaked out by Krystal as she was getting to be. "Krystal said you'd explain."

He jumped a little, jarring her arm, and then winced apologetically at her gasp of pain. "Explain what?"

"I don't know," Hailey said, gently exasperated. "That's why I need it explained. Something about reincarnation."

Terry studied her arm for a long moment, something that must have been magic settling over it in warm, pulsing waves, and then glanced up at her. "Are you one, then? You don't look it."

"One what?"

His eyes crinkled at the corners. "An Old Soul."

Hailey waited patiently. When no more information was forthcoming, she demanded, "and?"

"Ah--well, in the Nightworld--"

"The Nightworld?" She interrupted, puzzled.

His eyes widened. "You don't know?" Unease flashed in his eyes. "I thought--Krystal--"

"I know about--vampires and witches and all that stuff," Hailey said impatiently. "It's hard to live on the lower levels and be oblivious to them."

"Ah." He avoided her eyes. "Well, the Nightworld is our--society. And Old Souls are souls that are reborn, again and again, throughout time. Often they retain memories." He gave her a thoughtful. "And usually they're easier to spot."

Hailey shrugged, vaguely uncomfortable with the topic. "And that's it?"

He released her arm. "Pretty much." It was tender and achy, but seemed to work just fine; she gave him a delighted smile, massaging the muscle, and he returned it. "Be careful," he advised gently as he stood.

She considered the memory of the man's hands locking around her throat, and shuddered. "I don't know if the situation calls for it."

He touched her shoulder in wordless sympathy, eyes darkening, and turned towards the doorway. Krystal stepped into it, framed dramatically, wearing a flippy little red skirt and black turtleneck. "Done?" She asked, eyebrows arching. He nodded curtly and she smiled and crooked a finger. Hailey guessed she wouldn't be welcome on instinct, and stayed sitting on the bed as they went down the hall. She heard the quiet murmur of voices, then the hiss of a door's pressure locks releasing.

She studied her arm, fragile skin over the dark network of veins, tracing the lines in her palm. I was someone else once. The idea was nonsensical but seductive. And I....I could be someone different again.

A whisper of sound announced Krysta's presence at the door. She swept sharp eyes over Hailey and then tossed a bag at her feet. When Hailey prodded it with a toe, fabric rustled along with the plastic.

"Time to go," her unlikely benefactor observed. "Change and get in the car."

I hope Moria will tell Kess I'm all right, Hailey thought, and then picked up the bag as Krystal closed the door.

She was depending on someone--really depending on someone, with her life--for the first time in a while, and she'd sworn never to be that vulnerable again. And of all the people to depend on, Krystal would not be first on the list of anyone sane.

She'd just have to figure things out as she went along. Hailey had survived that way for years; by now, she should be getting halfway competent at the trick.