The impotence was a crusher. A total crusher.
He wanted to go out and . . . shit, find Payne if she was lost. Or bring her the fuck back home if she was out by herself. Or—
The phone went off
. Private caller.
“Thank fuck,” he said as he accepted it. “Payne—”
“No.”
Manny closed his eyes: Her brother sounded like hell. “Where is she.”
“We don’t know. And there’s nothing that we can do from here—we’re trapped inside.” The guy exhaled like he was smoking something. “What the fuck happened before she left? I thought she’d be spending all night with you. It’s cool if you two . . . you know . . . but why did she leave so early?”
“I told her it wasn’t going to work out.”
Long silence. “What the fuck are you thinking?”
Clearly if it hadn’t been all bright and sunny outside, motherfucker would have been knocking on Manny’s door, looking to kick some Italian ass.
“I thought that would make you happy.”
“Oh, yeah. Abso—break my sister’s fucking heart. I’m all for that.” Another sharp exhale, like he was blowing smoke. “She’s in love with you, asshole.”
Didn’t that stop him in his tracks. But he got back with the program. “Listen, she and I . . .”
At that point, he was supposed to explain the stuff about the results of his physical and how he was all freaked out and didn’t know what the repercussions were. But the trouble was, in the hours since Payne had taken off, he’d come to realize that however true that shit was, there was a more fundamental thing going on at the core of him: He was being a little bitch. What the go-away had really been about was the fact that he was shitting in his pants because he’d actually fallen in love with a woman . . . female . . . whatever. Yeah, there was a tremendous overlay of metaphysical stuff he didn’t understand and couldn’t explain, blah, blah, blah. But at the center of it all, he felt so much for Payne that he didn’t know himself anymore, and that was the terrifying part.
He’d pussied out when he’d had the chance.
But that was done now. “She and I are in love,” he said clearly.
And damn him to hell, he should have had the balls to tell her. And hold her. And keep her.
“So like I said, what the fuck are you thinking.”
“Excellent question.”
“Jesus . . . Christ.”
“Listen, how can I help—I can be out in daylight, and there is nothing I won’t do to get her back. Nothing.” Energized by obsession, he headed for his keys. “If she isn’t with you, where would she go. What about that place . . . the Sanctuary?”
“Cormia and Phury went there. Nada.”
“So . . .” He hated thinking like this. “What about your enemies. Where are they during the day—I’ll go there.”
Cursing. More exhaling. Pause. Then a flicking sound and an inhale, as if the guy were lighting up another cigarette.
“You know, you shouldn’t smoke,” Manny heard himself say.
“Vampires don’t get cancer.”
“Really?”
“Yup. Okay, here’s the deal. We don’t have a specific locale for the Lessening Society. The slayers tend to imbed themselves in the human population in small groups so it’s nearly impossible to find them without serious disturbance. The only thing . . . Go to the alleys by the riverfront downtown. She might have met up with some lessers—you’re going to look for evidence of a fight. There’d be black oil everywhere. Like engine oil. And it would smell sweet—like roadkill and baby powder. It’s pretty fucking distinctive. Let’s start with that.”
“I need to be able to reach you. You need to give me your number.”