five minutes, I can move myself into another hideout, you
know. I’m a slipperier eel than any vampire.”
“What are you really after?” asked D.
“Who do you think you’re dealing with here?” Pluto VIII said, settling himself into
a plastic chair. He invited D to do the same, but the Hunter wouldn’t sit down. The
woman from the general store had been left lying next to a street that saw a lot of
pedestrian traffic in a place where someone was sure to find her right away. Anyone
summoned by a vampire’s power, as she had been, wouldn’t remember a single thing that
had happened while under the vampire’s spell. Pluto VIII had set the unconscious vampire
down on a large bed of rather simple tastes. Fingering the fiend’s extended canine
teeth with morbid curiosity, he said, “Well, now. Let’s see if we can’t get him to
answer two or three questions. Okay, now watch closely.”
Saying that, he clambered onto the bed and over to where he’d put the vampire, then
laid down on his back right next to the other man. D saw him squeeze down on the vampire’s
hand. Pluto VIII closed his eyes. As he did so, all trace of expression vanished from
his face. At the same time, the vampire began to tremble all over and his eyes opened
wide.
“Pretty slick, eh?” the vampire said in Pluto VIII’s voice. While the face was still
clearly that of a farmhand, the expression had taken on an indefinable fullness, and
through the eyes and mouth it bore a distinct likeness to Pluto VIII. This little
stub of a man actually had the ability to possess other bodies. “Damn, it’s cold,”
he groaned. “Inside this guy’s head and all through his body it’s just one great big
winter wonderland. On the other hand, being in here I know everything he’s thinking.
Now, according to him, he got turned into a vampire by . . . wow, by no one at all.
All of a sudden he got cold and fell to the ground in front of that factory. And that’s
about the size of it, it seems. Ain’t that the damnedest thing!”
“Is the illness contagious?”
To D’s question, Pluto VIII replied, “I don’t know. What I can tell you is he’s got
a powerful thirst for blood. That’s it.” Suddenly Pluto VIII’s voice became muddled.
Malevolence flooded into his normally amiable expression. His face now that of a demon,
he leapt to his feet. The human who’d possessed this vampire had been overthrown with
remarkable ease. Imitation vampire or not, the mental powers that condition endowed
the victim with were certainly formidable. Slowly, the demon headed toward D—and then
he suddenly grinned from ear to ear, just like Pluto VIII. “Sorry about that,” he
laughed in the biker’s voice. “Didn’t mean to alarm you—not that you budged an inch.
Well, I guess that’s D for you. So, that’s the only question you’ve got?”
“No, I have another. What in the world were they researching in that house?”
“Can’t say,” Pluto VIII replied indifferently. “He’s probably got the information,
but everything related to it is in a fog. Guess that means no answer.”
Nothing from D.
“Looks like our plan has run awry.”
D gave a slight nod.
One of the paranormal phenomena that often linked the bloodsucker to its prey was
a transference of memories. Often the memories of a vampire were copied into the brain
of his or her victim. In most cases what was transferred was only a small portion
of vampire’s recollections, but there were some victims who wound up with all of a
Noble’s memories. By sending his consciousness into the other man’s body, Pluto VIII
had hoped to access any memories that might’ve belonged to whoever made him.
Not saying a word, D slung the undead body over his shoulder.
“Hey, what’re you doing?!” the corpse—or rather, Pluto VIII—shouted.
“If we’re through with him, I have to get him back in his grave. If you want to
M. J. Arlidge
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