I ate a second apple and had a dubious sip of the wine. (It still tasted like straightforward local chardonnay, even from that histrionic beaker.) The damn goblet tingled in my hand. I really didn’t want to get into some kind of communion with an overdressed tumbler. It was knobbly with what looked like gemstones. Oh please. I ate a third apple and started on the bread. Texture suggested cheating: additional gluten flour, probably, but the taste was not too bad; the baker must have the patience or the sense to let the sponge sit a while and ripen. Maybe I was just very hungry.
“Thank you,” I said.
Con’s shoulders rippled briefly: vampire shrug facsimile, maybe. “It is little enough,” he said.
“How long did I sleep?”
“Four hours. It is four hours till dawn,” he replied.
And Paulie had taken the early shift this morning. (He’d offered.) Okay.
My little excursion through nowheresville must have taken no time at all. One of the standard features of nowheresville, maybe, that made a kind of sense, but you didn’t really expect your very own alarming out-of-this-world experiences to align with the science fiction you’d read as a kid. The science fiction you’d outgrown in favor of Christahel and The Chalice of Death. My eyes wandered involuntarily to the gem-festooned goblet. I had to admit my reading had sort of prepared me for an overheated fantasy like this room. About nowheresville I was on my own.
Con didn’t look as if he’d suffered any ill effects from his coma, or whatever it had been. I wondered what passed for a near-death experience in a vampire? A slightly misplaced stake? He’d been able to go out foraging, anyway: the bread and the apples were both fresh.
“I wouldn’t have expected you to…choose to sit next to a fire,” I said, at random. Sitting next to a fire seemed like the sort of thing only silly, show-offy vampires would do. Like human kids playing chicken in No Town.
He didn’t say anything. Oh, good, we’re playing that game again. I ate another apple.
He raised his head and shook his hair back in an almost human gesture. Almost. “We do not need heat as you do,” he said, and I expertly translated the “we” and “you” into “vampires” and “humans.” “But we may enjoy it.”
Enjoy. I didn’t enjoy thinking about vampires enjoying things. The things they tended to enjoy.
“I enjoy it,” he said, and, surprising me enormously, added, “it is the warmth of life and the heat of death.”
Life as defined by warmth to a chilly vampire? Death by burning, death by the sun? Or the original death of being turned? Maybe he had been harmed by his coma: it was making him introspective. As being bounced off walls appeared to be doing to me.
I took a deep breath. “I—I have had a—a feeling that all was not well with you—for some time,” I said. “I think it began the night you—healed me. But it took me a while to—to figure out that that was what I was picking up. If I was. If you follow me.”
“Yes,” he said.
He didn’t say anything more for the length of time it took me to eat a fourth apple. Hey, they were small. Was it rude to eat, er, food, in front of a vampire? I’d done it before, of course. But if there was a future in congenial vampire-human relations there were grave (so to speak) etiquette questions to be addressed.
“Will you tell me what happened to you?” I said, half irritated at the need (apparently) to drag it out of him, half astonished at my own desire to know. What was this, friendship? Big irony alert. Here we’re both agonizing over this Carthaginian bond business and maybe it’s only that we’re learning to be friends. I could get into fireside sitting as the warmth of life too, probably. Hey, he was still a vampire and I was still a human and there was some other weird stuff, like transmuting and poisoned wounds and nowheresville. Not to mention going out in daylight.
But if we were supposed to be friends, I was going to have to get used to the fact that he wasn’t the chatty type.
He said, musingly, as if he was listening to his own words as he spoke them, “I was more wearied by the effort to heal your wound than I realized at once. I had not, you see, ever attempted anything similar before. As I told you, I had to…invent certain aspects. Guess others. I am not accustomed to not knowing what I am doing.”
One of the advantages of very long life. Lots of time for practice.
“I was careless after I left you. I permitted myself to be preoccupied. I was…sensed. By one of Bo’s gang. I needed to escape, and not to let her trace you through me. Another maneuver I am unaccustomed to is protecting the whereabouts of a human.”
I had the feeling he was saying something more than, “And they weren’t going to get anything out of me other than my name, rank, and serial number.” I wondered what a vampire address book would look like: would it have alignments rather than street numbers? What would an alignment index look like?
Could one vampire steal another vampire’s address book?
“The first one called for assistance, of course; and they were very…persistent, when they caught the trace of you on me as well. I eluded them eventually. It was not easy. I came here. As you found me.”
Naked in a dark empty stone room. Vampire convalescence gone wrong. “You mean you had been like that over a month? You schmuck, why didn’t you call me before?”
He looked up at me, and there was undeniably a faint smile on his face. It looked a little grotesque, but not too bad, considering. Nothing like as awful as his laugh, for example. “It never occurred to me.”
I had said to Yolande: Vampires don’t call humans, do they?
He looked back at the fire. “Even if it had, I do not think I would have done so. It would not have occurred to me that you could assist in any way.”
“You called me. You called my name. Once. I wouldn’t have found you if you hadn’t.”
“I heard you calling me. You asked me to answer you.”
“I called you to call me.”
“Yes. Sunshine, do you wish me to apologize again? I will if you desire it. I could not have rescued myself. I was…too far away. But I heard you, and I could still answer. You came and…brought the rest of me back with you. I am grateful. I thank you. That is not the way I would have chosen to…leave this existence. The balance between us has tipped again.”
“Oh, the hell with the damn balance,” I said. “What I’m thinking is, if you hadn’t needed to protect me, it would have been a lot easier, right? I weaken you, don’t I? Aside from your having got tired already bailing me out that night.” With the blood of a doe.
There were times, like now, when the feel of light and warmth was…different too. Different like seeing in the dark was different—but differently different. Different in a way I knew didn’t come from a vampire. Is this simple nowness of awareness some gift from her?