The dock began to rock. Behind him, one of the rockets fell into the water.
"Mr Gordon." The voice was Mary Joseph's. "Get to shore, now."
Pointing a finger towards her, he shook his head. "Oh, no, old woman, I'm Stuart Gordon"
No call-me-Stuart , tonight, Celluci noted.
" and you don't tell me what to do, I tell"
Arms windmilling, he stepped back, once, twice, and hit the water. Arms and legs stretched out, he looked as though he was sitting on something just below the surface. "I have had enough of this," he began and disappeared.
Vicki reached the end of the dock in time to see the pale oval of his face engulfed by dark water. To her astonishment, he seemed to have got his cell phone out of his pocket and all she could think of was that old movie cut line, Who you gonna call ?
One heartbeat, two. She thought about going in after him. The fingertips on her reaching hand were actually damp when Celluci grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back. She wouldn't have done it, but it was nice that he thought she would.
Back on the shore, two dozen identical wide-eyed stares were locked on the flat, black surface of the lake, too astounded by what had happened to their mutual enemy, Vicki realized, to notice how fast she'd made it to the end of the dock.
Mary Joseph broke the silence first. "Thus acts the vengeful spirit of Lake Nepeakea," she declared. Then as heads began to nod, she added dryly, "Can't say I didn't warn him."
Mike looked over at Vicki, who shrugged.
"Works for me," she said.
La Diente
Nancy Kilpatrick
Bram Stoker Award finalist and winner of the Arthur Ellis Award, Nancy Kilpatrick has been called "Canada's Queen of the Undead". She has published more than fourteen novels, over 150 short stories, five collections, and has edited seven anthologies. At least half her work involves the vampire. Her book titles include Sex and the Single Vampire, Endorphins, Dracula — An Eternal Love Story (based on the stage musical) , Love Bites, and The Vampire Stories of Nancy Kilpatrick. Under her pseudonym "Amarantha Knight" she wrote the erotic novels Dracula and Carmilla in The Darker Passions series, and she recently completed another novel in her "Power of the Blood" series, which already includes Child of the Night, Near Death and Reborn.
Kilpatrick also teaches creative writing on the Internet and does private courses, including "Writing Vampire Fiction".
" I met a man from Ecuador who showed me four of his baby teeth," recalls the author, "which his mother had made into jewellery a custom in his homeland. The vampire is very popular with Spanish-speaking people, and they have their own variation , el Chupa-cabra. Combining these images inspired 'La Diente' ."
Suddenly, the vampire appeared in the doorway! Tall, cadaverous, eyes glowing with the fires of hell. His fingers curled around the door frame, spider-like.
Remedios trembled. Her heart beat wildly, as if it wanted to explode inside her chest.
He inched forward, movements rat-like. He focused on his victim, his prey.
She clutched the wooden arm of the chair and squeezed her body into a tighter ball. " Diosito! Mio Diosito ! Protect me, Santa Marianita de Jesus!" she cried, but he kept coming.
"Submit to me!" he insisted, his voice low and seductive, the tone not one that could be argued with. "I am stronger. I will have what I want!"
"No!" She shook her head. Her sweaty hand slipped off the chair arm where she had gripped it so tightly.
His face came close, ungodly close, and then his blood-red lips turned upward into a sinister smile. A smile that split apart to reveal two long sharp teeth. Teeth that glistened with saliva. Teeth that wanted her neck. Demanded the vein, plumped with her life's blood, pulsing in terror. Teeth that would bite and rend and take what they needed in order to survive.
A loud, harsh buzzer caused Remedios to jolt.
She leaped from the chair and hurried into the kitchen to turn off the oven timer. Quickly she opened the door and lifted the lid of the clay pot; the meat looked and smelled delicious, just the way the Richviews liked it — rare. It had taken her almost three months to be able to prepare it the way her employers preferred. She wanted to please them, but something about that red colour when she cut into it, all the blood, made her feel nauseous, and she found herself frequently overcooking. Remedios had never eaten rare meat. At home in Ecuador, everyone overcooked meat, to be safe. She preferred it well done, so that it did not resemble any more the poor helpless animal that it had been.
With a deft hand she switched the oven knob to "warm", and turned on the element under the pot on the stove-top that would steam the summer squash. The salad and dessert had been prepared in advance, the table set, all was well. She headed back to the living-room for the end of the movie, only to find a commercial on the TV for feminine hygiene products, as they liked to call them in North America. It had taken her most of the six months she had been in San Diego to make sense of this new language, but finally she was beginning to feel as if she had mastered at least the basics. Now she could shop and take the bus without incident, mostly, and the Richviews seemed more comfortable around her. At least as comfortable as they could be.
Just as the commercial finished and the movie resumed, she heard a car pull into the driveway. Well, that was that. She switched off the television and returned to the kitchen. She would never know how the movie ended, but of course the vampire would be staked. He always was, or at least most of the time. She preferred movies where the vampire was destroyed. The ones where he escaped caused her nightmares.
It was a peculiar thing, that she watched these movies so fervently. Even back in San Francisco de Quito where she was born vampire movies were her favourite films, even though they terrified her. She hated the vampire, always taking advantage of those weaker than himself for his own advantage, yet she could not stop watching. Her mother — may the saints intercede with the Holy Father on behalf of her eternal soul! — preferred the soaps, and in Ecuador there were many. "Why do you want to watch those awful movies? Why frighten yourself? Turn them off!" her mother had said so often when she was alive. "My soap operas are much better, like real life."
"Yes," Remedios answered, "always the same. A family as poor as us, with as many problems as we have, worrying. About money, about health, the arguments because one does not get along with the other It is like every day! And they always come to the same conclusion: you must accept your lot in life."
"This is not a bad way to be," her mother said. "Life is full of trouble. When you have family, you are better off than those who do not. And when you accept what God decrees as your life, you are better off. Remedios, you were always the strange one. I knew this from the moment you were born, at midnight. That is why I named you God's remedy."
And now Remedios thought that yes, her mother had been wise. Life is much simpler when one accepts what is one's role. And her own destiny had not been such a bad one. Coming from the poverty of de Quito to the opulence of California to work as a domestic — not many were able to do that. The Richviews were decent people, they gave her four days off each month, did not make exceptional demands most of the time, and she had been able to send money home to support her sisters and brothers. She knew she had no right to complain. Many of the domestics mostly girls from Mexico she had met at the shops — told of terrible conditions, where they were forced to work long hours at low wages, and sometimes they could not get paid. It was difficult to do anything about the conditions because they were all in the United States on a working visa, and the minute they ceased to be employed they were deported.