4. Lem's Debts

After the girl had put away a cup or two of warmed-over pig blood, and Lem felt comfortable that she wouldn't run off, he left Melody at the table and went in search of Sister Constance.

She was in the day room, handing out clean blankets as they trickled in. Lem nodded at the ones he knew. There was Pryor, always first in line. He looked at Lem with his good eye on the non-burned half of his face. Next was Sketch. He traded a drawing to the Sister for the blanket. She held it up to the light. A perfect rendering of St. Mark's Cathedral lit up at night, right down to the rivets on the door and the security camera above it.

"It's beautiful, dear."

Sketch shuffled off. Buttercup followed. She'd been another one of Old Hitchcock's ducklings, just like Lem had been. The old man had found her gnawing on an usher behind the Galaxy Bijou during a midnight showing of The Princess Bride. He took her in, calmed her down, and almost convinced her that all it took was blood. Sometimes she still left a victim missing a finger or two. Old habits.

She smiled at Lem. He smiled back. She had something in her teeth.

Others followed. Younger ones. They still wore the Stages of Grief on their faces, as Hitchcock called it. Some were pissed, snatching the blanket out of Sister Constance's patient hand. Others clutched it to their chins and wandered away like children who had seen their mothers die. One, a young man dressed in a slightly-frayed Hugo Boss suit, angrily jabbed a thumb into his iPhone and ignored the Sister. He was complaining, or at least his lips looked like he was. He stormed off toward the dorms.

Lem signed at the Sister. Still hasn't come around?

She shook her head. "No. He still thinks he's being blackballed by his firm, and that his wife poisoned him for insurance money."

So he hasn't fed? At all?

She shrugged, and rubbed at her temple. "Pryor's been feeding him with a turkey baster while he sleeps. Won't do to have him mistake starvation for righteous indignation, lest they find his lovely widow dismembered and drained in their condo some morning. I've enough trouble with you lot without more police attention."

Lem looked at the floor. I'm sorry about the kid. I'd waited too long, and -

She waved him to stop. "County has already picked him up. Burial is tomorrow. I covered the service, but I had to chip in a little extra for them to ignore what you did to his throat."

Lem nodded, and dug around in his jacket, producing a small roll of bills. He handed it to her. It's about a hundred fifty. All I've got.

"It'll do."

The money vanished into a pocket in her oversized shirt. Constance looked at the door where Lem had left Melody. "How is she?"

His turn to shrug. Her first night. You know how it is. She's taking it better than I did, Lord knows.

She smiled. "Meaning she hasn't destroyed any furniture? You still owe me for that, by the way."

And a lot more.

"Don't forget that. Bring her out. She needs to meet the rest."

Lem frowned. Now? Before the dawn? Some won't trust her, won't sleep near her. There'll be trouble.

"I can't let her sit in the lounge all day by herself. What if I get inspected?" She sighed. "The Monsignor has been asking around again."

Lem couldn't sigh, unless he really wanted to, and even then it would sound like a broken air conditioner. But the desire was there. He knew what she wanted.

"I need you to stay with her. The first day's sleep is always fitful, as you know. She can't be wandering around."

He winced. I don't know why you can't -

"The rules apply to me, too. No living people in the dorms after sunrise. I break that rule, I break trust with the others, and word will get out. I need them to trust me, Lem. I need you to trust me."

Lem nodded. Sister Constance was a hard ass, but everyone knew they wouldn't get their heads cut off while they slept in her place. Her word was sacred. In their world, not much was.

How am I supposed to stay awake?

"Work it out. Handcuff yourself to her if you need to. Just make sure she stays in the dorm until nightfall."

He gritted his teeth. I do this because I owe you.

She smiled, and patted his cheek. "Pleasant dreams, dear."