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Two days later …
Friday, November 19, 1999
4:30 p.m.
Angela sat in the back corner of her Thesis Development seminar. She half-listened while one of her classmates gave a slide presentation on the current outline for their paper—Angela’s presentation was a few weeks away. She found it hard to focus that evening, her mind drifting to the events of the past couple of days.
Angela had skipped classes the day before to recoup from the subway incident, and at sunset, Corin accompanied her to the police station to give her complete statement. Detectives Apostolou and McKenzie suggested Corin take a seat in the waiting room while they interviewed Angela. Corin almost objected, but Angela assured him she would be fine. The detectives escorted her to a private office, and Angela gave them the same story as before. She maintained she lost consciousness when she was knocked against the column, and her attacker was already dead when she came to.
“Did anyone accompany you from the library?” Detective Apostolou asked.
“No, I was alone,” Angela replied.
“The whole time?”
“Yeah, the whole way from the library to the subway.”
“Okay.” Detective Apostolou jotted something on his notepad. “Well, I think that about does it. Thank you for coming in tonight, Ms. Thorne.” He gave Angela a fatherly smile. “I know this has been difficult for you, but we appreciate your cooperation.”
Both Apostolou and McKenzie were very kind and patient with Angela during the interview, which made her feel guilty for not telling the whole truth, even if it was to hide the existence of vampires—and cover for the man who helped her. “Is that it?”
“For now.” Detective Apostolou rose from the table and gestured for Angela to walk with him back to the waiting room. “We may have further questions down the line.”
It’s not over, Angela thought, taking a deep breath. Her mind wandered back to the subway—where she had almost burned herself alive. That wasn’t the first time she’d lost control of her fire, and it wouldn’t be the last. Think about something else!
The overhead projector switched slides and displayed Albrecht Dürer’s Last Supper. Angela lost herself in the picture, comparing Christ’s appearance to the man she encountered in the subway—the vampire from her dream. The Messiah rested a comforting arm around the shoulders of St. John, who appeared to be sleeping with his head on the table while Christ addressed the other apostles. An inexplicable serenity settled over Angela, and she didn’t even hear her classmate explain the woodcut’s significance to their thesis.
The session ended fifteen minutes later, and Angela made her way to the first-floor student lounge to wait for her uncle to pick her up. Honorato was sitting at the large table in the middle of the room with his back to the door. He was reading a book on Mesoamerican art and architecture. Angela came up behind him and touched his shoulder. “Hi,” she greeted.
“Hi,” Honorato returned, looking up at Angela. “How’s it goi … Wow, girl, look at your face! What happened to you?”
Angela touched her bruised cheek. The swelling had gone down, but the discoloration had spread to her eye. “Someone knocked me into a column in the subway.” She took a seat next to Honorato.
“Cripes, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt that much anymore.” Angela checked her watch. Corin was due to pick her up any minute. She glanced at the book Honorato was reading. It was opened to a page with a photograph of a Mayan relief sculpture depicting a batlike creature. The caption beneath it read, Camazotz, God of the Night and Death. “Did you talk to your professor about your paper?” Angela tried to sound nonchalant.
Honorato sighed. “Yeah, she pretty much laughed in my face, but she was morbidly curious to see where I went with the vampire thing.”
“Vampire thing?” Corin inquired, startling Angela and Honorato.
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