about,
truly. Perhaps some think god has one tail, while others think he has three
tails.” Oliver saw Maria smirk again. “It hardly matters. They’ve slaughtered
themselves out of a viable breeding stock. They have perhaps a hundred years
left. After that they’ll be a memory.”
Not for
most people, Oliver thought. But something had occurred to him. “You mentioned
religion? We heard that they had killed someone else over a prophecy, but that
turned out to be part of a trick to get me out of hiding.”
“There
could be some truth to that,” Blackwell admitted. “Prophecy is something they
take very seriously. I do find it unlikely that they would have a prophecy
involving you, however. Prophecies about stock analysts must be fairly rare, I
would think.”
“Yeah.”
Oliver had to agree that that was probably true.
“And how
do you know your new friends?” Blackwell asked. “You’ve met Artemis and Tyler,
I’m sure. And of course poor Sally Rain.”
“Poor
Sally…” Oliver began to ask, but then decided he was more interested in a
different question. “What exactly is Artemis? She looks like a little girl,
but…”
“Exactly?”
Blackwell asked. He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I met her for the first
time when I was very young. She was already old, even then. And by your
standards, Mr. Jones, I myself am positively ancient.”
“I’m
almost afraid to ask,” Oliver said. Any number of questions had occurred to him
in the last few minutes. How much of what he had seen in the movies was true?
Were vampires really immortal? Did they live forever, unless someone got lucky
with a wooden stake? Did wooden stakes even work? What about sunlight and
garlic?
“Then do
not ask,” Blackwell said. “Odd that they’ve taken you under their wing,
though. Babysitting is not their usual line of work. Nor is it mine, but
tonight will satisfy my most recent debt to Artemis.” He leaned forward. “I am
a man who pays my debts, Mr. Jones.”
Oliver
didn’t care much for the idea that anyone was babysitting him, but he thought
perhaps it was wise to show some discretion in a house full of vampires.
He was
actually in a house full of honest-to-god vampires, he thought. This was real.
How strange his life had become.
“Well, I
don’t think you have anything else to tell me right now,” Blackwell said.
“Another time I might like to talk a bit about the stock market. I enjoy
hearing new opinions, and you seem at least passably intelligent. But it’s late
and I am growing tired.” He smiled gently at Oliver. “And so are you, I’m
afraid.”
“Tired?”
asked Oliver. He was getting tired; that was true. He had assumed it was
the alcohol getting to him, but Blackwell’s statement had made him wonder.
“What is that, some kind of vampire mind trick?”
“Nothing
so droll,” Blackwell said. “Rather, it is the Seconal in your wine.”
Oliver
stared at his glass. He had nearly finished it. Fear gripped his heart like
ice. Was this really happening again? Could he possibly meet someone who didn’t try to drug him?
“Just
relax, Mr. Jones,” Blackwell said. “It’s too late. It’s impossible to fight it
now.”
Oliver
tried to get to his feet, but only made it halfway up before collapsing back
into his chair. The wine glass slipped out of his fingers. He expected it to
shatter on the floor, but in the span of a heartbeat Maria was on one knee next
to him, the glass clutched safely in her hand. Even through the fog that was
quickly overtaking his mind, Oliver managed to be astonished. He had never even
seen the woman move.
“Thank
you, my dear,” Blackwell said. Maria rose and nodded at him, placing the glass
delicately on a nearby table. “Do forgive my own rudeness, Mr. Jones. I gave my
word you would not be harmed, and so you will not be. But neither can I have
you wandering around my estate, taking note of my affairs. There is a great
deal here I simply cannot afford to
truly. Perhaps some think god has one tail, while others think he has three
tails.” Oliver saw Maria smirk again. “It hardly matters. They’ve slaughtered
themselves out of a viable breeding stock. They have perhaps a hundred years
left. After that they’ll be a memory.”
Not for
most people, Oliver thought. But something had occurred to him. “You mentioned
religion? We heard that they had killed someone else over a prophecy, but that
turned out to be part of a trick to get me out of hiding.”
“There
could be some truth to that,” Blackwell admitted. “Prophecy is something they
take very seriously. I do find it unlikely that they would have a prophecy
involving you, however. Prophecies about stock analysts must be fairly rare, I
would think.”
“Yeah.”
Oliver had to agree that that was probably true.
“And how
do you know your new friends?” Blackwell asked. “You’ve met Artemis and Tyler,
I’m sure. And of course poor Sally Rain.”
“Poor
Sally…” Oliver began to ask, but then decided he was more interested in a
different question. “What exactly is Artemis? She looks like a little girl,
but…”
“Exactly?”
Blackwell asked. He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I met her for the first
time when I was very young. She was already old, even then. And by your
standards, Mr. Jones, I myself am positively ancient.”
“I’m
almost afraid to ask,” Oliver said. Any number of questions had occurred to him
in the last few minutes. How much of what he had seen in the movies was true?
Were vampires really immortal? Did they live forever, unless someone got lucky
with a wooden stake? Did wooden stakes even work? What about sunlight and
garlic?
“Then do
not ask,” Blackwell said. “Odd that they’ve taken you under their wing,
though. Babysitting is not their usual line of work. Nor is it mine, but
tonight will satisfy my most recent debt to Artemis.” He leaned forward. “I am
a man who pays my debts, Mr. Jones.”
Oliver
didn’t care much for the idea that anyone was babysitting him, but he thought
perhaps it was wise to show some discretion in a house full of vampires.
He was
actually in a house full of honest-to-god vampires, he thought. This was real.
How strange his life had become.
“Well, I
don’t think you have anything else to tell me right now,” Blackwell said.
“Another time I might like to talk a bit about the stock market. I enjoy
hearing new opinions, and you seem at least passably intelligent. But it’s late
and I am growing tired.” He smiled gently at Oliver. “And so are you, I’m
afraid.”
“Tired?”
asked Oliver. He was getting tired; that was true. He had assumed it was
the alcohol getting to him, but Blackwell’s statement had made him wonder.
“What is that, some kind of vampire mind trick?”
“Nothing
so droll,” Blackwell said. “Rather, it is the Seconal in your wine.”
Oliver
stared at his glass. He had nearly finished it. Fear gripped his heart like
ice. Was this really happening again? Could he possibly meet someone who didn’t try to drug him?
“Just
relax, Mr. Jones,” Blackwell said. “It’s too late. It’s impossible to fight it
now.”
Oliver
tried to get to his feet, but only made it halfway up before collapsing back
into his chair. The wine glass slipped out of his fingers. He expected it to
shatter on the floor, but in the span of a heartbeat Maria was on one knee next
to him, the glass clutched safely in her hand. Even through the fog that was
quickly overtaking his mind, Oliver managed to be astonished. He had never even
seen the woman move.
“Thank
you, my dear,” Blackwell said. Maria rose and nodded at him, placing the glass
delicately on a nearby table. “Do forgive my own rudeness, Mr. Jones. I gave my
word you would not be harmed, and so you will not be. But neither can I have
you wandering around my estate, taking note of my affairs. There is a great
deal here I simply cannot afford to
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