A Taint in the Blood (33 page)

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Authors: S. M. Stirling

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Ouch,
” Ellen said.
Sounds like quitting smoking, only worse.
“Well, I asked.”
“That you did. I want her to go on biting me as long as possible. So what else happened?”
“We went to the town house.”
“God, isn’t it
gorgeous
? That heated infinity pool on the edge of the terrace, where it makes you think you can swim out over the city?”
“Yeah. And, um, we made out. I mean actually made out, not the . . . painful and really absolutely frightening stuff. A little feeding with that. I didn’t know if I could relax enough to actually get going, but I did.”
This time the smile was sly: “Like having a tiger in the sheets with you when she gets in that mood, isn’t she?”
“Ummm, yes. That’s just exactly what I thought.”
For good and bad. You can’t forget the claws and fangs are there, even when it’s purring.
“And oh, don’t the little nips of feeding add to it? You just wish it could all go on forever.”
“Except that your brain would explode and run out your ears or your heart would rip loose or something.”
“Mmm-
hmmm
,” Monica said, then continued thoughtfully: “That part was hard for me at first. I was, you know, very shy and prudish and only twenty-one, and I was very religious then. For a while I thought I must be, you know, a bad person.”
“That must have been hard.”
A shrug. “Sometimes life
is
hard. We both know that. And I’m not a bad person, I think. I just . . . came to terms with things. I’d never been with anyone but my husband. And now I’ve never been with anyone but him and Adrienne.”
Ellen hesitated.
Well, let’s be helpful and honest at the same time
, she thought, and went on:
“It wasn’t my first time with a woman, more like the third, but it was the first time it was more than, ‘Oh, this is interesting but not something I’d like to make a habit of.’ So I think it’s that Shadowspawn mojo at work.”
The more so because Adrian is also dynamite in the sack, even more so than his sister, but that
would
be oversharing. God,
even better in bed than his sister
. That’s an odd thing to be able to say. Or even think.
Monica nodded. “Well, it was never very exciting for me with Tom. I wondered what all the fuss was about. It was always over so quickly, and I wondered if other women were having a better time.”
A sigh. “Now that I look back on it all, I’m sort of regretful I didn’t try more to find out what I wanted. I envy you being able to go to college and have all sorts of experiences. I thought he was sort of, you know,
small
too . . .”
She made gestures with her hands. Ellen looked and said clinically:
“No, that looks about average to me. Unless he’s
deformed
, size doesn’t really matter. A lot of men don’t have a clue and then, yes, it’s sort of dull from our point of view.”
“Oh, I know all about
that
.”
Ellen blinked at her.
Didn’t she just say she’d only—
Monica chuckled, with the sly note back. “You know about the night-walking?”
“About how they can get out of their bodies and turn into wolves and tigers and birds?”
She laughed. “Silly, if they can turn into
birds
and things, it’s even easier for them to turn into
other people
. She likes to . . . come to us lucies . . . night-walking, sometimes. Not very often—she says she wants to enjoy her birth-body while she’s still got it—but every once in a while.”
“Oh,” Ellen said. Then . . .
Think of the implications, as Dr. Duggan said. Eerrrrk!
That must have shown on her face. Monica went on gently: “She can be anyone she’s bitten. The first time she turned into
me
right in the middle of things I nearly jumped out of my skin, let me tell you!”
“Ah . . . that would be extremely strange.”
“At first. After a while, it was sort of flattering. I knew I was pretty and had a good figure even after the kids, but that convinced me I was, you know, actually really hot stuff. And I felt so
naughty
. You can tell it’s her—the personality’s
her
, no doubt about it—but it’s really
you
, too. Or she could be you with me, or me with you.”
“Ah . . . yeah, I suppose it would be, umm, interesting.”
Errrrk!
“And, of course, she can be a guy, night-walking.”
“She can? And—”
“Everything works, right. Anyone she’s bitten; Jose, Jamal, Peter, lots of others.” A giggle. “Except that it’s a guy who can read your mind, and knows exactly what it feels like from the other side as well.”
“That sounds . . .”
Oh, Jesus,
Ellen thought, as her heart skipped in alarm.
Keep calm, Ellen. It’s . . . well, yes, it
is
weird, but weird is now your normal, and you can deal with the icky part.
“. . . like it might be fun now and then.”
Monica nodded. “It’s always fun when she wants it to be, whatever shape she’s in. And when she wants us scared or hurt . . . well, then we just have to go with that.”
Yes, we do. But I got away from being hurt. And now I’m right back in it, only worse. And you’re in a position where you need to think it’s all right. I won’t think that. I just won’t.
There was a silence for a moment, and then Monica rose, looked in the stove again, turned it off and then faced around with her hands on her hips.
“I’m not stupid, you know,” she said.
Ellen blinked. “I never said—Monica, I never
thought
you were—

“I’m not crazy either. I know she hurts me, really hurts me, and that’s going to happen sometimes. Whenever she feels like it. I just . . . I’ve decided to accept that. She cares for me in her way, but she
needs
to hurt. The Shadowspawn aren’t
like
us; they’re like cats and we’re mice. I was
born
a mouse, I just didn’t know there were such things as cats. OK, I’m a mouse, and I’m lucky my cat wants to play with me and not finish me off.”
“Do cats enjoy hurting mice?”
“Yes, they do,” she said flatly. “Adrienne told me. She can read their minds . . . well, their feelings.”
“Oh.”
Damn. I always hoped they didn’t.
“So I can take that, it’s not all the time. I’m not going to let it spoil my whole life. My life was
over
when I came here. I was going to end up homeless . . . I
was
homeless. I just didn’t know where to go or what to do or how to take care of my babies. Mom’s sister couldn’t have put us up, not for more than a few days. Things . . . things worse than anything that’s happened to me here could, would, have happened. And bad things are going to happen to the whole
world
. There are good parts to this, lots of good parts, and my children and I are safe. So there!”
“I’m not judging you, Monica. You’re doing what you have to do to survive, and this is my second time ’round. At least this time it isn’t someone I should have been able to trust absolutely.”
“Oh,” Monica said, then: “
Oh
.”
She put a hand on Ellen’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” A hesitation: “Does Adrienne know? Because . . . well, you know how it is about trying not to think of something . . .”
Ellen shrugged. “I’m pretty sure she does. She did that memory-searching thing on me the day after I got here, and I had flashes of things right back to when I was about four. It . . . started a long time after that.”
Monica put her fingers by her own temples and wiggled them. “Doesn’t that reading your memories thing make you
itch
inside your head?”
“Yes, it does . . . Monica, you’ve been very good to me. I think you were right that first day: we
are
going to be friends. Let’s get this stuff out and have a good time at the barbecue, shall we?”
Adrienne looked up and tossed aside her copy of
Architectural Digest
as the door opened. A nude Shadowspawn woman walked through onto the terrace, her face and forearms and breasts dotted with blood. Beside her sprawled and slithered a ten-foot Komodo dragon, three hundred pounds of reptilian predator with red-running serrated teeth.

Bonsoir, Maman, Papa
,” she said, embracing the woman and kissing her on both cheeks.
There was a faint tang of blood from the drops there—cooling, but still savory, like a slightly overripe banana.

Bonsoir, Adrienne . . .”
the woman said.
Then she looked down at the reptile, her tone becoming exasperated:
“Oh, for the love of
God
, Jules, I know it’s your favorite new toy, but really! It
smells
!”
It did, of carrion and death. The great predatory lizard reared; there was a blurring, and it was a man on one knee with a hand touching the ground. He rose and returned Adrienne’s embrace gracefully; then the pair both stood while servants cleaned them with hot, scented damp towels and dropped loose robes like Adrienne’s over their heads. They and she had a family resemblance; the pair were a little below medium height, dark-haired and olive-skinned, with a look of vital, well-preserved early middle age.
Their eyes were hot gold, like pools of molten metal with darker flecks crawling through them in slow motion.
“Our baggage and servants should be here momentarily, Adrienne,” Julianne Brézé said. “But it is great fun to fly in to the tower on one’s own wings. And the refreshments were lovely! I was always partial to blonds.”
“So am I,” Adrienne said. “I have an absolutely wonderful new one you must meet. She has the most interesting mind.”
“We heard,” her father said. “Stealing Adrian’s lucy! Not that the boy doesn’t deserve it, with some of the things he’s done. He always was a strange one.”
“He’ll come ’round eventually,” Julianne said. “He’s our boy at heart.”
She smiled, blood crimson on her teeth before she licked them clean.
“Those two were absolutely delicious . . . They were really very thoughtful of you,
ma fille douce
. And it was so
sweet
; the man kept trying to
protect
her, and she kept calling his name. Marvelous!”
“Chivalry is not dead,” Jules said. “Not Californians, from the accents?”
“No, my renfields picked them up for you . . . tourists at San Simeon, in fact. I’ve had them combing the possibilities, with the party in mind.”
“Ah.” Jules sighed. “The Enchanted Hill was such a pleasant place in its prime. A shame to think of it being overrun with gawkers.”
“There were some fabulous parties there when we were a newlywed couple,” Julianne agreed, and then laughed softly: “Particularly the parts that our host didn’t allow into the papers.”
Jules nodded. “What a pity William didn’t transition successfully. Still, he was genetically marginal—a tragedy more common in his generation.”
An attendant set out wine, bread, olive oil, a selection of cheeses and dried fruits and nuts. It would have been chilly for humans, but the Shadowspawn reclined comfortably around the table, nibbling and sipping, enjoying the jeweled arch of the heavens and the new moon. Wood burned in iron cages at the corners of the terrace, reflecting on the water of the pool below.
“So, what is this of
Hajime
invited to the estate?” Jules said. “Speaking of the
party
.”
“Oh, Jules,” Julianne said. “You’re not still angry with the man for killing us?”
“It was grossly offensive,” Adrienne’s father replied.
Adrienne smiled. “And you’ve been very good about living in a reclusive way down in La Jolla since then,” she said. “With me as public head of this branch of the family, the Tōkairins felt . . . easy and un-threatened. But now . . . now I think it’s once more time for the Brézés to spread their wings here in California, a little.”
The molten eyes turned to Adrienne. “Oh, my darling girl, whatever could you mean?” her mother said. “We were simply taking our time adjusting to the postcorporeal state.”
White teeth gleamed in the night, and all three laughed. A servant’s hand shook a little as she poured more of the wine. A few red drops spilled on Adrienne’s wrist; she considered them and then slowly licked them up.
“We should talk. And then, if you have a taste for midnight flight, perhaps we could do some hunting together. There’s a little loose end you could really get your teeth into.”
 
 
“Let me give you a hand!” Peter said.
He took the big ceramic bowl of potato salad out of Ellen’s arms and put it on one of the picnic tables. Others jumped to take the rest of the precariously-piled loads from the two women. People were milling around the walled rear yard, and into the house through the sliding-glass doors. Japanese lanterns bobbed overhead, casting shifting light.

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