Codex Born by Jim C. Hines Page A

spot. Instead, he had begun using Deb as a liaison between Porters and vampires.
    “The right poem can make people babble about all sorts of things,” Jeneta said sheepishly. “It was after the Porters found me. They sent a field agent to give me the Orientation to Magic lecture. I wanted the advanced course, and it’s possible I might have ‘encouraged’ her to talk about more than she was supposed to.”
    I waved a hand. “Deb’s not technically a vampire, but yes. The important thing is that she’s scared of Gutenberg. Hopefully scared enough to cooperate with just about anything we ask for.”
    “And you’re planning to ask for…?” Nidhi said impatiently.
    “I’m hoping they’ll be able to help us talk to Victor.”

The glares began the day Frank brought me home. The whispered insults followed soon after. Tramp. Bitch. Slut. Freak. Over time, the whispers grew louder. Marion Dearing followed me into the woods one night, but I was faster. I vanished into my oak, laughing at our game as I left her wandering lost among the trees in the cold and the dark.
    She tried to kill me two days after I made love to her husband for the first time. I was working in the chicken coop, an oversized jar of Vaseline in one hand. There was supposed to be a snowstorm that night, and I was coating the combs, feet, and wattles of each bird to help prevent frostbite.
    I had heard Marion and Frank yelling after dinner. I had never understood why she hated me. I don’t think I even realized she hated me, any more than I realized how much Frank and I had hurt her. We belonged to Frank, and we each worked to make him happy. I smiled, remembering the weight of his body atop mine.
    “What are you?”
    I jumped, dropping the Vaseline. I broke the jar’s fall with my foot before it hit the floor. “Hello, Marion. I didn’t hear you.”
    Marion might have been pretty once, a long time ago. Shewas heavier than I was, with thin gray-brown hair and a perpetual frown. Wrinkles spread like cracks from her eyes and the corners of her mouth. Her skin was spotted from age, and she dressed in a way that hid her body, making her look like a misshapen sack. She was strong, though. Those thick hands could kill and dress a chicken or birth a calf.
    Her eyes were red. She clutched a thick book in one hand, a Bible with a gold cross embossed on the cover. “You’re not human. Where the hell did you come from?”
    “I don’t remember,” I said automatically.
    She snorted and stepped closer. “Wandering naked and lost in the woods, with no memory where you’d been. Did the devil send you to us?”
    I shook my head. “Why would you ask—”
    “I know what you are. Sent to prey on the weakness of men. To seduce and corrupt them. I won’t let you have him.”
    “But he wants me.” I was simply being honest. I didn’t mean to hurt her, but the truth of my words struck her harder than any physical blow.
    She lunged forward, and her balled fist crashed into my jaw. I staggered against the cages. “Get out of my home, you whore!”
    The blows didn’t hurt as much as I had expected. I raised my arms to protect my face. The next time she swung, I caught her by the wrist and tossed her away as easily as I flung bales of hay for the cows.
    Marion bounced to her feet, the Bible forgotten on the wooden floor. Blood welled from scrapes on her face. She wiped her nose on the sleeve of her jacket. Fear flickered past her anger: a quickening of her breath, a widening of her eyes.
    I shivered with anticipation. I was
enjoying
this, almost as much as I had enjoyed making love to Frank. Her fist cracked against my jaw, and my heart pounded harder. I laughed and slapped her arm aside.
    She stepped back. “What are you?”
    I was too far gone to answer. I buried the ball of my foot in her stomach, kicking her so hard she retched. She crawled away and seized the hoe we used to clean the bottom of the coop. Shethrust the end at my face, then swung the blade