The Story of the Vampire, L (Completed | Featured )

3. [Kallines] - 2003 - Who Are You Wanting Dead?

"I come here for two days, and I am killing people."

"Not killing. You can bring him here," he said.

The dragonfly, wet from the pond, slowly opened and closed its wings. A frog, thinking itself safe because of our stillness, lifted its head from beneath the water.

"How old is he?" I asked.

"Maybe he has four centuries. No more."

"Give me a challenge," I said, letting go of his hand and striking the wall.

The dragonfly on the lily lit away, and I pressed my hands to the warm stone beneath me. The evening made quick work of taking the day's heat away, though my blood bloated body remained overhot. He took a gold bracelet off of his arm and put it on my wrist, dragging it over my skin without regard for pain. I looked at it, but said nothing.

"No harm," he said. "Do him no harm."

"Is he beautiful?" 

To this, a smile crept across his face, like morning fog across deep water.

"What has he done?"

"Will you not leave me alone? This is why we do not associate so well."

"I am not curious. I have no qualms."

"He comes into my house, though he does so no longer, and he brings news away."

"He is not your blood," I said.

"None of mine."

"It will take time. Have you anything of his?"

"Photograph," he said, and he produced it.

I studied the photo. Alois, with long blond hair, petal pink lips, and a feeling of weariness in his shoulders. An ordinary beauty. Exceptional enough to be appealing, but not enough to be particularly remembered. Thousands of them. A shallow pit high on his cheek, noticeable to the vain, a smallpox scar the blood could not fill in. Where there is one, there are many scars, nearly invisible perhaps. Interesting flaws.

"It is foolish to submit to photographs, and it is easy to catch a fool. I will keep Dodo here," I said, referring to my Corsican, Leonardo the fair.

"No that will be unwise."

"Dodo has friends here."

He did not repeat himself but looked away, into the woods. I touched the mark upon my neck.

"How is your lover? The one you longed for," I asked, putting breath to my words.

"He is too vicious," he said, speaking aloud finally. His voice sounded thin, strained. His shoulders relaxed. 

"Like me?" I asked, my head turned toward the wood. I looked upon it without studying it. 

"No," he said, shaking his head. "You are a killer, but you do not tear them to pieces. You do not eat people."

"Still it is nice to talk to someone, isn't it?" I asked.

"Ah," he said.

Before I could say another word, he had slipped away, disappearing into the water and never coming up again while I looked.

**

The next evening, Dodo found me putting up my hair in his hotel room mirror.

"I don't care what you do," he said, bringing me my straight razor. "I'll go to Miriam's in Amsterdam. Cheating bastard owes me a foot race."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Being with your friends."

"Better than stay here where somebody'll be keeping track of me. The great old one is closing ranks and I'd rather not be caught in the net. He had Laurent call Miriam, even, and tell him to come around to stay. What's the story? I've no idea. There's more coming by the hour. He's afraid of something. I'm done with the place."