The Vampire's Fall

“Guess I failed the cat test,” she offered.

“Oogie?” Blade knelt and called to the cat. “What’s wrong, buddy?” He tilted his head at her and she felt as if his look peeled back her layers and zoomed right to her oozy core.

If only it were so easy to learn who she was.

“Who are you?” he asked. Yet again.

And yet again, she had no clear answer.

The cat leaped into his arms, and the man stood, stroking its wrinkled suede-like head. “Oogie likes everyone.”

“Obviously I’m not everyone. And that’s the big question, isn’t it?” She rubbed her arms, though she wasn’t cold, just frustrated. And it had taken a cat to nail that frustration to the wall. “Who am I?”

The cat hissed at her.

Zenia flinched. “Uh, do you want me to leave?”

“No. Shower’s that way.” He nodded toward the hallway. “Oogie and I will talk. You have to walk through the bedroom,” he called as Zenia made her way down a short hallway. “You’ll see the bathroom door once you get in there.”

Overlooking the cat’s defensive reaction, she glided into a dark room that was lit by the sunlight beaming through a window set into the slanted roof.

Her gaze swept over the unmade bed. Black rumpled bed sheets. Cozy, in a manly way. Beneath her flip-flops, the floorboards were wide unbleached timber, as were the walls and slanted ceiling. Overall, a darkly clean, yet rustic decor. Just like the man.

And yet, he’d sweetly cuddled that ugly cat. Surprising to see such a big, intimidating man handle a tiny beast so gently.

Veering into the attached bathroom, Zenia was thankful it wasn’t all black. In fact, bright white tiles decorated the floor and walls, and though small, the gleaming shower looked inviting through the clear glass door.

She closed the bathroom door and set down the backpack. She’d raided a clothing donation box one night and found a sack of folded clothes that didn’t smell. Freshly washed? She could hope. And they’d fit, so she’d taken the whole bag and the canvas backpack that had been stuffed under a pile of smelly gym shoes.

Stripping off her clothes, she caught her reflection in the small shaving mirror above the sink. It was too small to see her whole face so she bobbed to get a view of her condition. Her hair begged a good combing and dark shadows curved under her eyes. She so needed a good night’s sleep and...to know.

“Who are you?” she repeated Blade’s question to her reflection. “And why the hell were you able to walk away after being hit by a freakin’ bus?”

She’d sensed his utter astonishment when she’d told him that. At the time she hadn’t thought anything of it. Could have been the adrenaline racing through her system. Shouldn’t she have a broken bone or even come away with a bruise or gash? She’d not even bled!

But instead of panicking, she’d been thankful. And that was about all she could do, wasn’t it? Live day to day, grateful that she had clothing and a vehicle.

Stepping into the shower, she adjusted the water temperature and said thanks for the kindness of strangers. And then she had the thought that she should have locked the bathroom door behind her.

* * *

Blade stood outside the bathroom door, his fingers glancing over the clear glass knob. On his bed sat his pet of thirteen years, the feline’s hairless black ears tilted backward and gold eyes wide. Oogie generally liked people. Though, he did tend to get his hackles up when demons were around. Full-blooded demons. Recognizing the mimicus breed of demon that could mimic other species had given Oogie trouble.

Don’t think about her. Just forget.

Forgetting was what he most wanted to do. But the memory of her had etched itself into his soul. And no amount of charity work was going to rub it away. Not even moving a heavy stone fountain into a garden for a couple of retired nuns.

Blade shrugged at Oogie. “What do you think?”

Oogie’s ratlike tail flicked with annoyance.

“She seems harmless. She doesn’t even know who she is.”

Which didn’t necessarily render her harmless. She could have forgotten she was some kind of assassin. Or maybe she was a real good liar.

He was jumping to wild conclusions. Zen was simply a pretty woman who had had a bit of bad luck. With a bus. And demons. Though she seemed genuinely unaware of the demonic trouble.

A stolen truck and no home or belongings? Had to be tough. She couldn’t sleep in her truck every night. But he wasn’t prepared to offer her a place to bunk down, either.

That way lay madness. Been there, done that. Wasn’t about to wear the T-shirt.

But she was a curiosity to him. And her looks were exotically appealing. She couldn’t be from around here, Land of Ten Thousand Lakes with hoards of Scandinavians who were whiter than white and had the tendency to mutter uff-da to express everything from annoyance to excitement.

Maybe she hailed from the more culturally varied Twin Cities? Had to. She could be a professional, or even a model or an actress.

Why not go to the police? They must have a way of searching for a person without a name but rather a picture. If she was a registered driver her license would be on file. Name learned. Problem solved.

For the most part. Simply learning her real name wouldn’t automatically restore her memory. Had to be tough not remembering a thing. She could have family. Friends. A husband.

Blade made a note to check her finger for a wedding band. He didn’t want to step on another man’s territory. Not that he was stepping. No, he was just helping a needy soul. It’s what he did, apparently.

“Come on, Oogie. We can’t sit out here like a couple of stalkers.”

* * *

The maxi dress with bright yellow-and-blue horizontal zigzags was a bit loud, but it felt comfortable and wasn’t too low cut. She did have nice, full breasts though, so revealing a little cleavage wasn’t going to kill her.

Zenia fluffed out her wet hair, and then borrowed Blade’s comb, which lay on the edge of the white porcelain vanity. A search in the small cupboard beneath the sink didn’t spy any hair products. And she didn’t want to check the drawers in the bedroom. Who knew if Oogie, the attack cat, might come after her?

After hanging the towel she had used to dry over the shower door, she shoved her dirty clothes in the backpack and headed down the hallway. Lured by the delicious scent of pancakes and maple syrup, she got right up to the kitchen counter, dropped the backpack, then veered toward the double cathedral windows at the end of the living area.

The old barn had obviously been restored and the windows added. They looked as though they belonged in Notre-Dame in Paris. And for some reason, she felt as though she’d been in the French city, though briefly; long enough to claim familiarity with the medieval cathedral. No color filled the glass sections that gently curved to a peak at their pinnacles. It gave the windows a clean, modern look. Very suitable for a man’s home. In a barn. It was an interesting choice, but again, seemed to match Blade’s no-frills, rough demeanor.

“They are so beautiful,” she said of the windows, then flinched when she heard the hiss behind her.

“Oogie!” Blade tossed a red stuffed mouse down the stairs that led to the garage below. “Go play with your mouse.”

The cat cast her a discerning look, then dashed off.

“I’m sorry,” Zenia said. “I don’t know why that thing doesn’t like me.”

“Oogie is a cat, not a thing.”

“Yeah, but it looks like a rat. Why doesn’t it have any hair?”

“He’s a Sphynx.”

“Oh, right. I know those breeds are hairless and require special care. Does he wear a sweater in the winter?”