Teeth

Chapter Eighteen

August waited an hour after sunset before he telephoned Spencer to ask for the girl's address. They'd been stuck in the coffee shop for the day and who knew how far out the girl lived. Spencer had said it was close, three or four streets on the top floor of an old building. She had thin curtains though, and he wasn't sure how safe he would be once the sun rose again.

Shoving a roll of thick material from their stores into a rucksack, enough to secure at least one room from the sun, August set off to the address he had been given. Spencer knew to expect him but not to tell the girl. She would only become upset, and probably harder to manage, if she knew one of the men who wanted her dead was on his way.

The youngest vampire's request played constantly in his mind. August had finally given in, asking William for his opinion on the situation. The man was as blunt and coarse as ever but he had told August what he needed to hear.

Climbing the steps inside the building, he came to a slim door on the top floor. He knocked loudly and waited, listening to the scurry of footsteps and whispered questions. Spencer urged the girl onwards and the door was pulled open. Her curiosity was gone in an instant and she stepped back, eyes wide with fear. August smiled.

"Are you going to invite me in?" he asked.

Spencer appeared next to the girl and tugged the door from her grip, pulling it open wider.

"You can't," she said. "You can't come in without an invitation."

August laughed and stepped over the threshold.

"We can," he said. "It just isn't polite."

Spencer smirked and closed the door behind him. No doubt the young vampire had been amused to trick this girl into believing the silly superstitions about their race. He wondered if he'd told her to hang garlic and ask a priest for holy water as well.

Sliding the backpack from his shoulder, August held it out for Spencer.

"There should be enough for one room, perhaps two," he explained. "Once you are done, go and hunt. You will need your strength."

There was no affection to his voice and Spencer's gaze searched him for a moment before he nodded and opened up the backpack, moving immediately through to another of the rooms in the apartment. He'd been here a while already, he'd probably looked around.

"Miss..."

She stared at him as he waited and finally shook her head.

"Navarro," she said.

"Miss Navarro, would you be so kind as to get me a glass of water?"

She was taken aback, being shown niceties by the people holding her captive in her own home, as she had been in the coffee shop. She took three glasses from the cupboard.

"No, just two," he said. "Spencer will not be staying."

"So, I'm your hostage now?" she asked, returning one of the glasses to the cupboard and filling the others with tepid water.

He chuckled and accepted the glass she offered to him. Striding to the nearest chair, he slid down into it without being offered and rested the glass against his knee, looking around. The apartment was crappy, or more appropriately the building was crappy. Yet she had furnished and decorated it until the poor state of the walls and floor was barely noticeable. Beautiful artwork from every continent adorned the walls, interesting knick-knacks stood on every shelf and surface, different but perfectly matching furniture was spread about the small room. Cleo had been the same. She could make a home even in decrepit buildings with her eye for space and colour. August took a quick swallow of water.