"Well, if you were my mother-which I seriously doubt, considering your immortal damnation as a vampire-then who was my father? I demanded. "Whoever he was, you must've caught him up in your thrall to get him to-"
"No, Judge Legg's always been a randy sort. Ruts anything that's warm and wet," she replied with a shrug. "Which is how Miss Lucy got knocked up. Which was why she had to die."
Once again my mind did a stutter-step at all this impossible information. It was outrageous of this vampire to say she'd birthed me, but to assert that the magistrate was my father! Why, that old goat- My heart shriveled. When I'd seen Lucy pinned to the wall of St. Mary's, urging Billy Tripplehorn to climax inside her, I'd suspected she was trapping him with an inconvenient pregnancy-and I'd guessed Harold Legg had something to do with her death. That the judge had perhaps-perhaps-gotten her with child matched my darkest opinions of him, even though such an abomination was a crime I didn't wish to think about.
But to believe the magistrate had sired me…with this insidious bitch of porcelain skin and platinum hair…well, it was more than I could stomach. I vomited, while my mind reeled with the most sickening information I'd received since my early childhood. All my life I'd believed I was an orphan-born to a destitute mother, or a woman caught in the crossfire of misbegotten passions, whose lover wanted nothing to do with me. And while that story was sad and difficult to accept, it sounded a hell of a lot better than what was being passed offas the truth right now.
I glared at Perfidia, determined not to cave in. "You're hundreds of years old, and you're a vampire-undead! So how could you have conceived me?" I challenged.
The ghoul chuckled, clearly enjoying the shock she'd caused. "A faulty assumption on your part, my dear. Young as she may appear, it was Pink who created me-took my life as I knew it, while Harold and I were newlyweds. She said it was the scent of conception that drove her beyond control. She knew you were in there, if just barely, and that with a constant supply of blood my body would support you until you were born. So the evening after my funeral, she dug me up and brought me around with a massive infusion of her own youthful fluid, until I learned to feed on Pandora's orphans. Ironic, isn't it, that a bitch in heat like me can be a babe in the woods, as vampires go."
She laughed at her own joke. In that airless room where I was being bombarded with too much truth, it sounded like the manic cackle of a witch. "Not that I believe any of this," I said in a thin voice, "but why would Miss Pink do such a thing? She always makes things happen to her own advantage, so-"
"Because she CAN!" came Perfidia's raucous reply. Then she eyed me slyly, taking another draw from that infernal cigarette. Didn't that thing ever go out?
"And because she'd vowed to wreak havoc on the magistrate," the vampire added with a satisfied smile. "Seems he convicted her mother of whoring-which was her sole means of supporting her children-so Pink figured the loss of his own wife and unborn child as partial payment for the death of her mama."
"Revenge."
"Precisely. And nobody wreaks revenge like a pretty young thing with fangs."
"Is that why you attacked Billy? Because I 'owe' you for all the years you let me live, and for allowing me to pursue-" I stopped rather than reveal my profession, even though Tripplehorn was still in a stupor. "NOT that I believe you're my mother, of course."
Perfidia snorted, causing smoke to spurt from her nostrils. "Silly fool, I drank Billy's blood because I wanted him! Because he's gorgeous! But what I'm about to do next comes under the heading of Mother Knows Best."
"Pulling rank," I muttered, clenching the iron bars like I wanted to grip Perfidia's neck. "As though caging me like a damned animal weren't enough. Why am I not surprised?"
Her smile grew more catlike as she snapped her fingers to rouse Billy from his fog. "Oh, you'll be surprised, all right."
She was walking-or rather, gliding in that vampire way she had-toward my armoire, holding Tripplehorn's attention with her steady gaze. "Do you know whose clothes are in here, Billy, my sweet?"
He grinned, a besotted schoolboy answering Teacher's question. "Why, Andrea's, of course. This is her room, and that's where she keeps her dresses."
My pulse was pounding so hard, knowing where this would lead, that I could barely hear their conversation. I had to wonder how much of it Perfidia herself was directing, for she could read people's thoughts and then coerce their responses.
"That's right-as far as it goes," she replied. Then she unlatched the doors and swung them open with a dramatic flourish. "But what's this? Behind these outmoded, rather frumpy gowns why-here's a man's tweed suit jacket! And several pairs of flannel trousers! And an overcoat!"
Perfidia pivoted, her triumphant glance flitting my way before she focused on Billy again. "What does this mean, sweetheart? Do you recognize them?"
"You goddamn-"
But Billy's wounded, incredulous expression shut me up. He squirmed against his invisible bonds, whimpering like a frustrated pup. "She has a husband," he rasped. "She led me to believe she's unmarried, but-"
He suddenly dropped from the wall to land with a thump on the floor.
"She's been deceiving you, all right," the vampire said as she wagged her finger at him, "but perhaps if you come closer, you'll know where you've seen these clothes before."
My wrath made the room burn from behind a red haze-the sort that comes over a bull being teased by a matador. Billy still looked pale from losing so much blood, and he walked with a wince after landing so hard, but I predicted a quick recovery. He'd be running for his life, if Perfidia had her way.
"Billy, she's tricking you!" I yelped. "After we get out of here-if you'll let me explain-"
But he was already fingering the front of the overcoat, studying the glove Perfidia had pulled from its pocket. A panic came over me and I couldn't breathe, as though a noose were tightening around my neck. And it might as well have been, the way Billy Tripplehorn looked at me and then ran his finger along a pale stain I hadn't realized was there. He buried his face in the glove.
"Smells like sex, doesn't it?" the vampire inquired quietly. "And that unsightly white splotch on the coat, why, it reminds me of…dried cum."
Billy sucked air and turned to stare at me, the glove still near his nose. "Alex Moore, the lawyer," he said in a voice growing as taut as his bare body. "In the buggy coming from town-how long has HE lived here?"
I bit my lip, fighting tears. But of course Perfidia jumped right into the gap of distrust I'd just created.
"Ever since Alex-Andrea-got out of law school, actually," she replied. "And while I'm glad she rescued you from the clutches of that idiot Harry Legg, you should know what you've gotten yourself into, before it's too late. Would you marry a woman who masquerades as a man?"
The blood drained from my face. For countless, gawdawful moments Billy Tripplehorn stared at me, his eyes dark with doubt. Years in the courtroom facing down the magistrate had trained me not to break my gaze, yet I couldn't deny my deception. "If you'll let me explain, Billy-"
"If you want to leave, after she's treated you so indecently, I'll certainly understand." The vampire's gown fluttered with the quick raising of her arm to point toward the door. "Fetch your clothes downstairs, if you like. I love you too much to hold you here against your will."
I didn't know whether to cry or vomit again, listening to Perfidia perform such melodrama with all her immortal-immoral-charm. Surely he realized she was playing us both for fools, one against the other! Billy'd once admitted to thinking with his dick, but living among three female vampires had been a short course in sexual treachery even he had learned a lesson from. Hadn't he?
And yet, who was I to deny my part in this deception? I'd brought him here under false pretenses, after all. "I love you, too, Billy," I said, realizing it was the weakest defense I'd ever pleaded. "Please believe I had my reasons for-"