Odd Stuff by Virginia Nelson Page A

recovered, I noticed the men stared at me helplessly. I got up and pulled my hair back into a wad on my head. “There’s a dead body down there.” 
    Three ghost hunters and a vampire peered into the hole. 
    “Um, it’s Marcus,” Vance identified the body. 
    “Dude,” Jimmy muttered.
     
    ~
     
    Vance decided we were better off calling in the dead body and leaving. I worried about that. What if I left DNA connecting me to the scene in the hole? I didn’t watch forensic TV for nothing. He hopped in the hole and came up with three strands of hair and the camera. 
    I was satisfied with that. If a vampire said he’d found all traces of your scent, you roll with it I guess. We piled back into my car and I dropped off the ghost hunters at an all night diner, since they weren’t ready to turn in yet.  
    Vance sat still in the car next to me while I stared at the Witch Parking Only sign. “What are the chances of you finding Marcus while ghosthunting?” His voice rippled through the darkness and I shivered at the velvety smoothness of the sound. 
    “I guess I don’t need those iron supplements. That was the same Marcus, right?”
    “Yeah,” he sighed. “I am beginning to think that this whole mess has something to do with me.”
    Not answering, I waited for him to continue.
    “See, someone attacked me while I was resting for the day. They knew where I slept, staked me, and dumped me in a dumpster.”
    I continued my blank regard. Maybe shock? Or perhaps getting numb to the nonsense.
    “And then someone staked Madam Zulu,” he continued.
    “Why aren’t you dead? Vampire, stake and all…” Even as I asked, I realized I requested logic to be applied to illogic and doubted he’d give any sort of answer which made sense.
    “They missed. They hit my collarbone. The common misconception is that when you say the Pledge of Allegiance, you are putting your hand over your heart by sticking your right hand to your left breast.” He demonstrated. “More accurately, however, you would put both hands together and bend your elbows at a ninety degree angle to gauge around where the heart is. They hit where most think the heart is rather than where it actually lies. Also, it is nicely protected by the sternum.”  
    I nodded. Yup, gibberish . His eyes kind of glowed again which looked pretty, like a blue night light. “Okay, so what does Madam Zulu have to do with you?” 
    “She was a—how much do you know about vampires?”
    Snorting, I covered my face briefly. “They don’t exist. Mythology created after Vlad the Impaler, a bloodthirsty man from Transylvania, started mounting his enemies heads on pikes outside his fortress. A man later wrote a book, required reading for high school nowadays, which said they hated crosses, garlic, stakes to the heart and long walks on the beach on sunny days. That and stakes to the heart kill ‘em. I mean you.” 
    He shook his head. “You get a guy drunk, take him at a few hands of cards and he writes one stupid book you never live it down.” 
    “Huh?”
    “Stoker. I knew him once. He wrote Dracula. He thought it was terribly funny.”
    I nodded. Mhhmm’Kay, that made about as much sense as the rest of the evening.  
    “He was right on about the sunlight and stakes. And the blood drinking. Can’t really get around that one, but you get used to it.”
    Turning the key, I put the car in reverse. 
    “Where we going?” Vance re-fastened his seatbelt. 
    “I need food before you explain anything else then you are leaving, and I am sleeping.” 
    “Okay.” He slouched into the seat and looked awfully comfortable for a walking dead man. Fifteen minutes later, I had a block of cream cheese, a bag of shredded cheddar cheese, a can of chili (no beans) and a bag of tortilla chips, all bought with my crotch money from Julia. This late night meal is brought to you by the letter S for stripper and L for lapdances. Thanks, Julia.  
    I plodded up the stairs to Mia’s