An Old Friend Of The Family (Saberhagen's Dracula Book 3), Fred Saberhagen [best large ereader .txt] 📗

out upon great clouds above the lake, clouds painted now with the reflection of a sunset developing in the opposite direction.

    Carol gave one of her little laughs. She had them in several styles, and this particular style, Walworth was slowly coming to realize, was derisive. She said: “You consider yourself relatively normal, darling?”

    “I guess I do, though I’m not proud of it.”

    “Anyway, two months ago is just about when we first met. And it didn’t take me long at all to convince you that vampirism really works.”

    “I mean, no one could have convinced me by argument. Demonstration was what did the trick.” The sensations accompanying her sipping from his veins were more diffuse than those of any other sex act he had ever performed, but none the less orgasmic. “And one of the points I like best is that we can alternate this vampire act with going at it in the more traditional ways. You never seem to take enough blood to leave me weak, or anything. One of these days, my love, we’re going to try both at once, and what a hit that’ll be.”

    “I think it’s time we got up,” said Carol, ignoring everything he had said.

    “I still don’t get just how you do it. I mean, make tiny punctures like this with just your teeth. I can see you’d have to have teeth like needles. It never hurts a bit and the holes are so small. But your teeth don’t look the least bit odd. I’ve had my tongue in there between ’em too, not to mention—”

    “Don’t be gross.” Her voice cutting him off was cold, but then she winked. “I really do think it’s time we jumped up and got dressed.”

   “What’s the hurry?”

    “There are things to do tonight. Things are going to be happening.”

    “What things? Goddam it, you can answer me. How do you do the biting?”

    “Just like in the movies,” she said, and rolled out of bed on her side and started to pull on her dress. Nothing under it, of course; cold never seemed to bother Carol.

    “Movies?”

    “Vampire movies. Craig dear, don’t be dense. Now will you dress?”

    “If it’s that easy I ought to be able to do it to you too.”

    From the top of the green dress emerged green eyes, looking at him coldly. “I do not enjoy having my throat bitten,” Carol stated. “Anyway, tasting my blood would change you too fast. You are perfect just the way you are. I wish to enjoy you and use you just a little longer yet.”

    He stretched out with hands behind his head, thinking to himself how nicely his big biceps showed in this position. “You’re using me, huh? When are you going to get over your hang-ups about my mirrors?” The large glass on the nearest wall had been sprayed opaque like a store window at Halloween; there were only a few scars in the ceiling to show where his overhead mirror had been taken down completely, at Carol’s insistence, before she would mount the round bed with him.

    “Sometime soon, I think,” she answered, seriously enough to surprise him a little. She was sitting in a chair now, gracefully putting on a shoe. “I think you’re ready.”

    “You do a good act about the mirrors,” he said. “Never explicitly explaining why. Just putting these out of action, and covering up the one in the lobby with that raincoat. Leaving it to me to make the connection with the fairy-tale vampires who won’t show up in a mirror.”

    Shoes on, Carol had stood and turned away to watch the sunset reflecting clouds. “Big storm’s coming,” she remarked, as if to herself. Then she turned back. “Tell me more about the fairy-tale vampires.”

    “Well, you know. You do it well.”

    “I think I’d better be blunt,” Carol said. “When have you ever actually seen my reflection in a mirror? I really do want to have you around a while longer, and you’re not going to last unless you start to understand some things. In fact, you may not last out the night.”

    “What’s all this,” Walworth demanded, starting to get angry, “about how I’m going to be used?” She had never talked like this to him before; he realized now that some kind of crisis in their relationship was at hand. “If you’ve got any ideas about turning me over to that dumb Irishman as a kidnapper, forget them. You and King Kong are in this just as deep as I am, remember. If that kid ever identifies me as driving the car, your ass has had it too.”

    “Craig, don’t ever let Winter hear you call him that.” Carol issued the warning calmly but seriously, a stewardess telling you to put on the belt. “As for that dumb Irishman, as you call him, he won’t be coming around again. That was well played, darling. You do have talents outside of bed.”

    Walworth was still lying in the same position. “So, what’d you do? Pay him off? Kill him? I’d like to know about it. I mean, I’d really like to know, dearie, if you’re killing people and it might someday involve me. An hour later you were back here. Did you take him home and bite his neck?”

    Carol seemed to be considering her answer seriously. Meanwhile she was straightening her dress around her, fluffing out her hair. She did, now that he thought about it, have the habit of doing such things without mirrors. At last she said: “No, I haven’t bitten his neck. Not yet. Anyway, it’s not really the police you have to worry about.”

    “It’s not? That’s a pretty good one.”

    “No it isn’t, dear. It wasn’t the police who pulled off Gruner’s fingers.”

    “Obviously. I know