Blood Rites by Elaine Bergstrom

could from a distance. He decided that her shock couldn’t be too great because her color, though pale, was normal and her breathing even. “I’ll stop back later if they need me,” the doctor told the sheriff when he returned to the kitchen. He gave Dick his telephone number and, looking puzzled, left.

    Stephen arrived at the beach house three hours after he’d been called, setting what Dick was certain had to be a travel record. Though it was well after dark, Stephen drove without lights and garaged his car before coming inside.
    During the time it took for him to arrive, Helen never moved. He went to her without a word, kneeling beside her bed, softly calling her name. Helen woke with a start and wrapped her arms around Stephen’s neck. Dick saw his friend close his eyes and stoke Helen’s hair until her shudders subsided and she relaxed in his arms. “I want to leave here,” she said in a small, pleading voice.
    “Soon,” he replied, then added, “go back to sleep.”
    She responded by holding him tighter. When Stephen stretched out beside her on the bed, Dick decided it was wisest to leave them alone. He went downstairs to the kitchen and pulled a warm beer out of the bag on the table. As he drank it, he put away the rest of his groceries, then went and waited in the one room in which he felt comfortable, the one that faced the road instead of the sea.
    Stephen joined him a half hour later, standing beside him at the window, looking out at the winding drive and the trees.
    Minutes passed before Dick asked, “Do you know what happened?”
    Stephen nodded. “An accident,” he said. “Helen didn’t know anger would give her such strength.”
    “She pushed him through?”
    Stephen nodded again and Dick asked, “Why?”
    “They were lovers in Chaves. He wanted her to return with him.” Stephen went on, describing what he could of the last few minutes of Philippe Dutiel’s life and how Helen had felt him die.
    “No wonder she’s in shock,” Dick commented. “It must have been horrible.”
    Stephen shook his head. “Glorious. You look confused, Richard. You shouldn’t be. You know that we live on emotions as well as blood. His death would have been an incredible attraction. That’s what shocked her.”
    “The doctor said the man died almost instantly.”
    “An instant is enough. She will remember it perfectly forever,” Stephen reminded him. “And she had another shock. Her terror and revulsion woke the lives in her. She’s pregnant.”
    “Lives?” Dick asked.
    “Twins. So far I am certain that one of them is mine. The other is most likely family as well but with a weaker mind. I will know the truth in time.” It seemed that Stephen spoke as if he should have anticipated this problem, that if only one were his, he would blame himself. “It’s better than blaming her or a dead man, yes?” Stephen added, not caring if Dick minded this reading of his thoughts.

    Paul Stoddard and Elizabeth Austra arrived later that night. On the way, they’d stopped in town where Paul identified the body, made arrangements to have Philippe returned to Chaves for burial, and took responsibility for notifying Hillary of her father’s death.
    As soon as they arrived, Elizabeth went upstairs to be with Helen, and Paul joined Stephen and Dick. He stood in front of the fire Stephen had started in the living room’s fireplace, letting the warmth flow through his legs before taking a seat. He appeared exhausted, sad, and, Dick thought, a little guilty. Perhaps that was natural. Stephen had told him that Philippe and Paul had been old friends.
    “I told the sheriff we would be picking you up tomorrow,” Paul told Stephen. “I said that Helen enjoyed sailing and a day at sea might help her recover. I asked if it was too early in the year.”
    “And his response?” Stephen asked.
    “To be careful. He said the winds are dangerous this early in the season, particularly close to the shore.”
    “Well, the