Who had to go out to do his business many times a day.
“Don’t you think you can hold it?” I asked him. “All I need is a few hours’ sleep. I’ve had one hell of a day. Why don’t you know how to use the toilet?”
Barkley whined and scratched at my bed again.
I stared at the dark ceiling for a moment. And sighed. Well, it wasn’t like I was getting any sleep anyhow.
“All right, I’ll take you out.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and then hunted around for my fuzzy slippers and ratty blue terrycloth bathrobe. “But you better make it a quick one.”
I grabbed my keys off the kitchen counter. My cell phone was right next to them so I grabbed that too and slipped it into the deep pocket of my robe. More of a habit than anything.
He was scratching at the door by the time I got there.
I tied my robe and glanced at the nearest clock: 5:35 A.M.
Then I unlocked the door, slipped out into the hallway, and pushed the down button on the elevator.
Barkley was still whining, now scratching on the elevator doors.
“Okay, almost there,” I told him. “Relax, would you?”
Outside, it was freezing. Nobody should be out in January before 6 A.M. Even creatures of the night like me. Even though the cold didn’t really bother me much anymore, it just felt wrong. Especially while wearing pink fuzzy slippers and after recently learning I was a potential walking target.
I found the spot I usually took Barkley, a ten-foot-by-ten-foot patch of snow with a tree he seemed to enjoy. I absently glanced up at my balcony on the tenth floor.
And frowned.
“What the hell?” I said aloud.
A dark figure was scaling the side of the building. It stopped briefly at my floor, bracing itself on the balcony railing, and threw something. I heard the sound of glass shattering.
“Hey!” I shouted. “What the hell do you think you’re doing up there?”
The figure swung over to another balcony and then another, and then it was out of my line of sight.
Barkley hadn’t done his business yet. He looked up at me and whined.
And then my apartment blew up.
My apartment.
Blew. Up.
In a great big ball of fire.
I couldn’t believe my eyes.
Barkley started to howl. Doors slammed. I heard voices around me in the cold early morning and after a while a blanket was wrapped around my shoulders. I smelled the smoke, sharp and pungent, and it made my eyes water. Sirens, loud and migraine-inspiring, assaulted my ears. My mouth felt dry. People started asking questions, touching my shoulder, staring at me with concern.
“You’re so lucky you got out,” one voice said. I don’t know who it was. I don’t even know if I answered.
The apartment complex was evacuated and people milled around me, looking confused and afraid.
I just stared up at what used to be my apartment, now a smoking black spot on the side of the building,
ten floors up, and I burst into tears.
“Nobody was hurt, thank God!” another voice said.
Then in lower tones. “She must have had a gas leak. Poor girl.”
Poor girl. They were talking about me.
The pale girl standing outside in the cold in her bathrobe, crying like a baby, with a red blanket dangling from her shoulders. In shock, not moving, not thinking. Just staring at everything she had in the world that had just gone up in smoke.
Barkley nudged my hand. I looked down at him.
“Woof,” he offered in a concerned tone.
“The hunters,” I said to myself, or to Barkley, or just out loud. My voice sounded odd. Kind of creaky.
Broken. “The hunters did this, didn’t they?”
Vampire hunters had just blown up my apartment.
And they’d been two minutes too late to take me with it.
“Shit,” I whispered. “I really am in serious trouble, aren’t I, Barkley?”
Behind me, I heard a car door slam. I didn’t know how long I’d been standing there, but the sun was now beginning to come up, casting a pinky orange glow along the ruined side of the apartment building.
Pretty, I thought absently as a shiver went through me.
“Sarah.” A hand touched my upper arm to slowly ease me around. Thierry’s brow was creased, his face and shoulders tight. His frown deepened when he saw my face.
I turned to glance at the building again. Despite the warm blanket, I was shaking.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Okay,” I felt the word on my tongue, but said nothing else.
His gaze slid down the front of me, then back up to my face. “Answer me, Sarah.” His voice sounded harsh with concern. “Are you injured?”
I looked down at Barkley and sniffed. The damn dog had saved my life. I suddenly felt guilty for deciding not to buy him the steak-flavored dog biscuits because they weren’t on sale this week.
He deserved special, overpriced biscuits. It was the least I could do.