Angel's Pain by MAGGIE SHAYNE Page B

hear voices or see things or get these headaches before, why now? What’s changed?”
    â€œI don’t know. Maybe her damn Rey-Rey had her on some kind of medication that we don’t know about. Something that kept all this shit under control.”
    â€œWhat kind of medication would work on a vampire, Briar?”
    â€œOnly two that we know of. The tranquilizer, and that potion of Rhiannon’s that lets us stay awake by day, and makes us meaner than hell and twice as jittery. But that doesn’t mean there might not be more.”
    â€œRight. Antipsychotics for the undead. Makes all kinds of sense.”
    She shot Roxy a look. “If it’s not that, then what?”
    â€œI don’t know. Some kind of possession?”
    â€œYou don’t believe it could be drugs, but demons seem like a possibility to you?” Briar rolled her eyes.
    â€œMaybe some other vampire is messing around with her head, then?”
    â€œWhy would anyone want to?”
    â€œI’m damned if I know!” Roxy lowered her head. “I know, I know, you’re as baffled by this as I am. I just hate seeing her in pain. And so confused by it. And the way she’s changing…No, I don’t like it. I want to help.”
    Briar lowered her head, because it was becoming too heavy to hold up. The sun must be near to rising. “The Reiki helps. Both of us.”
    â€œThat’s something, anyway.” Roxy patted Briar on the shoulder. “Go on to bed before you collapse and I have to carry you. She’s out for the day. She’ll be fine until sundown.”
    â€œYeah, but what then?”
    â€œWe’ll decide when it gets here.”
    Briar nodded and went back into the bedroom. She just managed to crawl into the lush nest of teddy-bear-soft fabrics before the sleep took her gently into its embrace.
    Â 
    In the basement of the mansion in Byram, Connecticut, the ten-year-old boy stood in the open doorway and stared at the man inside the room. Derrick Dwyer dangled. His hands were chained together, the chain looped over a hook in the ceiling. His toes barely reached the floor. The man’s head hung low, chin touching his chest. He was barefoot. His shirt was gone, and so was a strip of his skin, on his forearm. It looked as if someone had peeled him there, like peeling a potato.
    He wasn’t dead. Matt could tell, because he was still breathing. It was raspy enough to hear without listening too hard.
    His father must have gotten whatever he wanted from the man, because he’d told Matt to get him down and tend to his wounds, as he’d gone running from the house. That had been an hour ago, and it had been pretty close to sunrise, so Matt thought wherever his father was going, it must have been pretty important.
    He knew what his father was. A vampire. They were mean, evil creatures, but he didn’t suppose they could help it. And besides, now that his mom had died, his dad was all he had left.
    So he tried to obey and not be too afraid, though he sure did see a lot of things to be afraid of.
    He grabbed a wooden chair and dragged it closer to the man. Then he climbed up on it, but he couldn’t reach the hook in the ceiling. As he stood there, contemplating what to do, the man moaned and lifted his head just slightly.
    â€œHey, are you awake?” Matt asked him.
    The man lifted his head higher and stared straight into Matt’s eyes.
    â€œFather said I should get you down now. Only I can’t reach.”
    The man kept staring, as if not understanding him, so Matt pointed upward until the guy looked up, too, and saw the hook beyond the boy’s reach.
    â€œIf you can get up on this chair, though, you could probably get it off yourself. You think you can?”
    The man nodded weakly, so Matt hopped down from the chair and then steadied the older guy so he could get up onto it. It took some doing. The man was weak, and his wrists were bleeding. But he