Stalking the Vampire by Mike Resnick Page A

one to feed you.”
    She counted on her fingers. “No home, no place to go, no food. That's three things I won't have.”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œWhat if I only let two men in?” continued the cat-girl. “Does three go into two? Or is it two into three? And how many lumps of sugar are left over?”
    â€œI'll tell you what,” said Mallory. “Don't let anyone in and you won't have to do the math.”
    Her face brightened. “Thanks, John Justin. That's your best idea all night. Well, since the last time you skritched me, anyway.”
    â€œAll right,” said Mallory. “I'm going into the men's room now. Remember: Don't let anyone in except McGuire.”
    â€œWhat if it's Aristotle Draconis?”
    â€œHe's an exception.”
    â€œI like exceptions,” said Felina happily. “What if it's Warren G. Harding? Or Tom Mix? Or Mary Queen of Scots? Or Jackie Robinson?” She paused. “Wait a minute. I'm just being silly.”
    â€œYou get no argument from me,” said Mallory.
    â€œMary Queen of Scots wouldn't use the men's room.”
    â€œJust McGuire,” grated the detective.
    â€œAnd Draconis,” she said. “Don't forget Draconis.”
    â€œAnd no one else,” said Mallory, finally entering the men's room.
    It was a large room, with a dozen sinks running down one wall, a dozen stalls on the opposite wall, and a row of urinals lining the back wall. The floor was tiled, and the walls were tastefully papered above a ceramic trim. Mallory paced the room impatiently for a moment, and then the door opened and McGuire entered.
    â€œHere,” he said, thrusting a cell phone into the detective's hand. “Make your calls fast, and maybe I can stick this back in the old broad's purse before she notices it's gone.” A quick smile. “I'll keep the sawbuck that came with it.”
    â€œThanks,” said Mallory. “I'll just need it for a couple of seconds.”
    â€œPhone calls take longer than that,” said McGuire.
    â€œI'm not phoning, I'm summoning,” said Mallory, opening the phone and activating it.
    â€œI'll bet the ten bucks I just stole that I don't want to ask the next question, do I?” said McGuire nervously.
    â€œProbably not,” agreed Mallory. He looked at the phone, then carefully punched out G, R, U, N, D, and Y. “Thanks,” he said, tossing the phone back.
    â€œDid you just call who I am mortally afraid you called?”
    Before Mallory could answer, there was a flash of light and a puff of smoke, and he found himself facing a tall creature that stood a few inches over six feet, with two prominent horns protruding from his forehead. His eyes were a burning yellow, his nose sharp and aquiline, his teeth white and gleaming, his skin a bright red. His shirt and pants were crushed velvet, his cloak satin, his collar and cuffs made from the fur of some white polar animal. He wore gleaming black gloves and boots, and he had two mystic rubies suspended from his neck on a golden chain. When he exhaled, small clouds of vapor emanated from his mouth and nostrils.
    â€œYou have summoned me at an awkward time,” he said in a deep voice. He turned and pointed to McGuire. “What is that ?”
    â€œBats,” said Mallory, “I want you to meet the—”
    â€œCan't!” said McGuire nervously, backing up to the door. “Big hurry! Gotta use the men's room.”
    â€œYou're in the men's room,” said Mallory.
    â€œSome other men's room,” whimpered McGuire, feeling behind him for the door. He found it and pulled it open. “ Any other men's room!”
    He was gone a fraction of a second later.
    â€œYou'll have to forgive him,” said Mallory. “He's not used to being in the presence of Evil Incarnate.”
    â€œI have explained to you time and again…” began the Grundy.
    â€œFine,” Mallory cut him off. “At least you