In the Blood (16 page)

"It was more like my self-preservation instinct had been triggered. Some part of my
brain considered killing Morgan the same as killing myself."

"Are you saying you can't lift a hand against this guy?"

"No!" Her denial was harsher and louder than it needed to be. She winced and
fought to regain control of her temper. "It's a matter of will. That's how Morgan
broke free of his own creator, Pangloss. He proved himself to have the stronger
will."

"What about you?"

She shrugged. "I'll find that one out the hard way. Okay, since we're here and we
know the monster of the house is out, what do you say to a little visit?"

Palmer sighed and pulled a leather wallet from his raincoat pocket. He flipped it
open, displaying his collection of lock twirls.

Sonja grinned. "I like a man who's prepared."

It took only a few seconds for Palmer to pick the lock on the front door. He hesitated
before opening it, gesturing to the sticker affixed to one of the windowpanes set into
the door face.

Warning! This house protected by Phelegethon Home Security Systems!

"We'll just have to chance it. I'm betting Morgan wouldn't want the police showing
up to check out a call."

"Whatever you say, boss."

Palmer crossed the threshold, wincing in anticipation. Silence.

Sonja moved cautiously into the vampire's nest, her head swiveling like a radar
dish.

"He's not much on interior decorating, is he?" Palmer whispered.

The living room was devoid of furniture. The floor was covered by an off-white wall-to-wall carpet. To his left, Palmer glimpsed an equally barren dining nook.

"This isn't where he lives. It's just a nest. It's convenient for maintaining his
identity. Kind of the vampiric equivalent of a place in the city. Most nobles have
nests scattered all over the world, mostly in major metropolitan areas, places were
the neighbors wouldn't consider an absentee owner unusual."

"Jesus, this place gives me the creeps."

Sonja held up her hand for silence. She sniffed the air and frowned. "Do you smell

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something?"

"Now that you mention it, smells like one of the neighbors is having a barbecue."

His stomach rumbled in response to the aroma.

She moved down the hall and stopped in front of a closed bedroom door. The smell
of cooking meat was stronger than before. She turned the knob and stepped inside.

The gloom was illuminated by a small color television set atop a plastic milk crate.

Opposite the flickering television was an easy chair. Sitting in the chair was a
middle-aged man dressed in a rumpled suit. The reek of roast pork filled the
otherwise empty room.

The man watching the TV slowly turned his head toward the visitors. Palmer was
aghast at the lobster-red color of the man's skin. He looked as if he'd been boiled
alive. The man opened his blackened lips and let his jaw drop.

Sonja was suddenly backpedaling, trying to escape into the hallway. Palmer stared
in horror at the smoke and steam leaking from the boiled man's ears and nostrils.

He almost looked funny like one of those old Tex Avery cartoons.

A gout of flame leapt from the boiled man's throat, striking the wall a foot from
Palmer's head, some of it splashing onto his shoulder. Palmer was too surprised to
cry out, although he could smell his hair crisping.

Sonja grabbed him by the arm and jerked him out of the room. The pyrotic was
getting to its feet, preparing to vomit another ball of fire. She slammed the door and
hurriedly doffed her leather jacket, tossing it over Palmer's shoulder and forearm,
smothering the flames. Satisfied the fire was out, she dragged Palmer in the
direction of the front door.

Palmer looked back in time to see the boiled man lumber into the hall after them. He
moved as if unused to arms and legs. He also seemed to be sweating bullets. Then
Palmer realized that the man was dripping fat like a hot candle. The odor of frying
bacon was omnipresent.

"We're leaving! Okay? We're leaving!" Sonja shouted at the melting man.

The pyrotic halted its clumsy advance and stared at them with the opaque eyes of a
baked fish. It was still staring when they closed the door.

"I
said
I'm sorry, okay? How was I to know he had a fuckin' pyrotic as a home
security system?"

They were back at their hotel, Sonja applying the last of the salve to Palmer's burns.

"I knew I shouldn't have let you talk me into this shit! I knew it! But do I listen to
myself? Now I nearly get myself flash-fried by an escapee from a carnival
sideshow!" Palmer winced as Sonja wrapped the gauze bandage around his upper
arm. His right shoulder blade throbbed in time to his pulse.

"C'mon, it's not that bad. You've suffered worse." She nodded to the scar crossing
his heart.

"You could have gotten us killed!"

"I could have gotten
you
killed. And for that I deserve the rebuke. I guess I was
trying to prove something to myself, that I wasn't scared of the bastard. I was
careless and stupid and you got hurt. I didn't want that to happen."

"You and me both."

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Sonja finished dressing his wounds in silence. Palmer tried to find the strength to
ignore the touch of her hands. At first the pain and fear had been enough to fuel his
anger, but now it was fading. He wanted to stay mad at her. Being mad at her was a
lot safer than liking her. He suddenly realized she'd said something to him. She was
seated cross-legged on the floor, looking up at him as he perched on the corner of
the bed.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch it."

"I said I keep forgetting you can't regenerate. I have to keep reminding myself how
frail humans are."

Palmer allowed himself a smile. "I've been called a lot of things in my time, but

'frail' wasn't one of them. You keep saying 'human' like it's a brand name. Don't
you still consider yourself, at least some part of you, to be like us? You're not like
Pangloss. There's still something alive in you."

"Are you trying to flatter me? Don't answer that!" She smiled and leaned her chin
into her palm. 'You know, most vampires would consider being favorably compared
to humans a gross insult. Humans are no more than milch cows-reliable producers
of the two things vampires need to survive: blood and negative energy."

"What about you? Are you insulted?"

She smiled again. "No. Because I'm not a vampire."

"Huh?"

"Oh, I've got all the traditional vampiric qualities-fangs, a taste for the 'forbidden
vintage,' nocturnal habits,, the powers of hypnosis and all that jazz. But I'm not a
true vampire. I never died, you see. I'm a freak-a species of one."

Palmer didn't know what to make of this confession. He'd assumed Sonja's
shunning of the daylight was because she would burst into flames and turn into a
charred mummy. It hadn't occurred to him that she might sleep all day because
she'd been up all night.

"You must be lonely."

She tilted her head, studying him from behind unreadable mirrored lenses. "Do you
like me?"

His cheeks colored and he became interested in counting the dots in the acoustical
tile. "Well, uh, it's just that I...

"I understand." Her smile disappeared and Palmer heard his own words echoing
inside his head. You must be lonely. Right on. Way to go, Mr. Milch Cow.

"What I meant to say is:
Of course
I like you." He was surprised to hear himself
speak those words. He was even more surprised when he realized he was telling the
truth. "You saved my life."

"Only because you were in danger on account of me. If it wasn't for me, you
wouldn't be involved in this mess. You might not even have had your psychic
powers activated. You'd be-"

"Stuck in the state pen, getting my teeth knocked out and my asshole stretched,
with no hope of parole until the next millennium. Believe me, as weird and as
dangerous as this shit is, I could be a lot worse off." Palmer leaned over and touched
her chin, tilting it upward. He didn't know why he did it; it just seemed like the
thing to do. Just like it seemed natural to pull her into his arms. He felt himself

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growing hard and that, too, seemed natural. It had been months since he'd last had
sex. With Loli.

He tried to shut the thought from his mind, but it wouldn't go away. Everything
had seemed right and natural
then,
too. It had all seemed like some kind of
beautiful, happy accident. He'd become so cynical it had made him naive. And Loli
played him for the fool. From the very beginning she'd been in charge, manipulating
him like a puppet on a string until he was no longer his own man. It had been a trap
from the beginning, baited with honey and hot meat. And he'd never once suspected
it until he'd faced the butcher on the killing floor. And the butcher had Loli's face.

Palmer made a strangling noise and pushed Sonja away from him. He pressed
himself against the headboard, staring at her with wide, horrorstricken eyes. His
penis went limper than cold pasta. "You're doing this! You're making this happen!

It's not me, it's you!"

Sonja's face crumpled, and for a moment it looked as if she was going to cry. Then
her features hardened and the left corner of her mouth curled into a humorless
sneer. Her voice sounded ragged, as if her lungs were full of ice and razor blades.

"You fuckin' idiot! You're so damn neurotic, you don't even know what you really
want, do you? You think I'm making you do this? Okay, I'll make you!"

Palmer tried to cry out as her will poured into him, seizing his brain in an invisible
vise. All he could manage was a groan. His whole body felt numb, as if he'd been
given a massive dose of Novocain. Although he could not feel any discomfort, the
lack of sensation was worse than actual pain.

"Are you scared stiff yet? No? Then I'll have to see about that."

Palmer whimpered as his penis stirred. The numbness made it feel like it was a
hundred miles away. He was vaguely aware of movement, but nothing else. The next
stage was familiar. The last time he'd known such pain had been in New Orleans,
when he'd narrowly escaped the "charms" of the succubus. His penis felt like an
overinflated balloon on the verge of bursting. He gasped and struggled to keep his
eyes from bugging out of their orbits.

"I could keep you like this for hours. Days, if I so choose. Of course, your bladder
and testicles would rupture long before then. And even if you escaped being killed
by your own sperm and piss, the blood vessels in your penis would be ruined for
good. Assuming gangrene didn't set in and the doctors aren't forced to amputate,
you'd be impotent for life." Sonja shook her head. "I don't understand what she
sees in you. She must have a real weakness for fucked-up wimps, jerks with a taste
for destructive relationships. You know what I mean, don't you?" She leaned
forward, thrusting her face into Palmer's own. "Or do you need reminding?"

Her hair stood on end, waving like strands of seaweed. Palmer stared as Sonja's hair
grew before his eyes, doubling, then tripling its length. As he watched, the hair
turned from dark to light, becoming a raw honey blonde. Then her face rearranged
itself, her flesh rippling, like a reflection in a disturbed pool. Then he heard a wet,
squelching sound as the bones restructured. Her lips swelled, her chin becoming
baby-doll round, her cheekbones sliding into place with a grinding sound.

Loli smiled down at him, her eyes screened by twin reflective mirrors.

"Hi, baby. Did you miss me?"

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Palmer screamed.

He was free of the paralysis, his erection was gone, and he shivered like a half-drowned cat. Sonja stood in the far corner, her back to the wall, staring at the bed.

Her face washer own again. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, as if she
was struggling to keep from vomiting-or keep something from escaping.

"Get out!" She sounded as if she was in pain.

The sight of Sonja hugging herself, rapping the back of her head against the wall as
if keeping time to unheard music, was almost enough to make Palmer forget what
had just happened. Almost.

"Get out of here before I hurt you, damn it!"

Palmer couldn't tell if she was pleading or threatening him. He hurried into his
room, slamming and locking the door behind him. He couldn't be sure, but he
thought he could hear her talking to someone-or thing-and that she was being
answered. Then he heard furniture being trashed.