“You’re not going alone,” Tatum said, incredulous.
“She specifically asked I come alone. It’s a public place.”
“No way. I am not letting you meet a vampire by yourself. That’s seriously horror movie material. What next? Are you going to say we need to split up to cover more ground?”
“You’re being ridiculous. She’s not really a vampire.”
“Does she drink human blood?”
“That’s what he said.”
“Yeah, you’re definitely not going alone.”
CHAPTER 15
“Are you sure this is the place?” Tatum asked, his voice hushed.
“That’s what my acquaintance said. Richard J. Daley Branch, Chicago Public Library,” Zoe said.
“Why meet in a library?”
“I wanted a public place. She suggested meeting here.”
“What’s wrong with a café?”
“You know, you weren’t even supposed to come, so I don’t know why you think you can complain about this.” Zoe’s whispers were becoming louder, and an irate reader glanced at them and frowned.
“Okay, fine. How do we find her here?”
Zoe shrugged. “There aren’t a lot of people. I’m assuming she would stand out.”
Tatum shook his head. “We should have brought a wooden stake, like I said,” he whispered as they began walking across the room, between tall shelves full of books.
He’d had lots of fun on the way, suggesting they stop next to a church to get some holy water, then repeatedly pointing out they were literally going to interview a vampire. Zoe had mostly ignored him.
Tatum inhaled, enjoying the smell. Libraries had a scent that nothing else did. Was it simply the intermingling smells of old pages, dust, adhesive, and ink? Or did the stories have a scent of their own? If you took papers and book glue and ink and mixed them together, would it smell the same? He was sure it wouldn’t. He turned to ask Zoe what she thought, but she’d drifted away to another aisle.
He was at the far end of the library when he saw the woman. She stood in an aisle full of particularly old, thick books, thumbing through an enormous tome. She was thin and so pale she was nearly white, her lips as red as . . . well, blood. Her long jet-black hair seemed to shine strangely in the shadowy light. Tatum found himself pausing, hesitant. Though the library was public, this area was as quiet as a tomb, and though he was obviously larger and armed, there was something otherworldly about her.
He approached her slowly. She gave him a brief glance as he got closer, then returned to her book.
“Excuse me,” he said.
She raised her eyes but said nothing.
“Are you Carmela Von Hagen?”
She frowned. “No.”
“Oh, right.” Zoe had told him the woman had a weird nickname. What was it? “Um . . . Night Temptress?”
The woman’s eyes widened in outrage. She marched out of the aisle, half pushing him out of her way. As she left, she muttered, “Can’t go anywhere without a pervert harassing me.”
Tatum blinked and followed her out of the aisle. He was about to chase after her when Zoe said, “Tatum.”
He glanced at her. She stood by the librarian’s desk and waved him over. He joined her.
“I think she just left,” he said.
“This is her.” Zoe gestured at the librarian behind the desk. Tatum frowned at the woman. She was short, wearing a pair of square eyeglasses, her hair a curly brown. She wore a yellow flower-patterned dress. She pursed her lips, looking at him disapprovingly.
“You’re Carmela Von Hagen?” he said.
“Yes,” the librarian piped, her voice a tad high.
“The Night Temptress?”
“That’s just my online nickname. I don’t go around calling myself that.” She sniffed and glanced at Zoe. “You were supposed to come alone.”
“He insisted on coming,” Zoe said. “I think he was worried for my well-being.”
“What did you think?” the librarian asked him, her voice shrill. “That I would swoop down in the form of a bat and lunge at her throat?”
“I’m not sure,” Tatum said weakly.
“Right.” Carmela turned back to Zoe. “Never mind that. Are we doing this?”
“Doing what?” Tatum asked.
“Your girlfriend agreed to be my donor,” Carmela said.
“I’m not his girlfriend,” Zoe hurriedly corrected.
“Fine, whatever. Sign this.” Carmela put a form in front of Zoe. “This says you are a willing donor.”
“Hang on, what the hell is going on?” Tatum skimmed the form, incredulous. “You agreed to let this woman drink your blood?”
“I wouldn’t meet you otherwise,” Carmela said. “Do you think I’d be outing myself to any stranger who comes my way?”
“You can’t be serious,” Tatum said.
Zoe read the form, forehead crinkled in concentration, as if she were signing a simple bank statement. “This isn’t a big deal, Tatum. Stop fretting. I want to see how she does it.”
“Absolutely not!”
“Your boyfriend is a pain in the ass,” Carmela said.
“I’m not her boyfriend, and she’s not your damn food,” Tatum snapped.
“It’s safe.” Zoe looked at him in exasperation. “My acquaintance vouched for her.”
“I can drink your blood, if you prefer.” Carmela scrutinized him as if she were inspecting meat in a butcher’s shop. “Frankly, I’d prefer it.”
“No one is drinking my blood.”
Zoe signed the form. “Okay, I’m ready,” she said.
“Let’s go to the science fiction aisle,” Carmela suggested. “It’s usually empty around this time of the day.”
Tatum followed the two women, feeling lost in a surreal dream. The science fiction aisle smelled different than the rest of the library, almost sweaty. The visible book covers displayed spaceships, planets, a red-eyed robot.
“Are you left handed or right handed?” Carmela asked Zoe.
“Right handed.”
“Give me your left hand.” Carmela fished in her purse, retrieving a box of disposable scalpels. She took one out, tearing the sterile wrapping.
Zoe hesitated for just a fraction, and Tatum immediately stepped forward, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go.”
She shot him a furious glance and gave Carmela her hand. Carmela took it and carefully pricked Zoe’s thumb, making a small incision, about half an inch long. A large drop of blood materialized. Carmela pressed the skin by the thumb, and more blood emerged, starting to trickle. She then bent forward and licked the blood from Zoe’s finger.
Tatum held his breath, his entire body tense. His right hand was just above his hidden holster, as if he was about to pull the gun and shoot the librarian vampiress. He forced himself to relax, breathing deeply. This weirdo was creepy as hell, but she wasn’t dangerous.
She pulled away, smacked her lips, and watched Zoe’s thumb as blood emerged a second time. She licked it again, then nodded, satisfied. “Not bad.”
“The food is to your liking?” Tatum asked derisively.