by Adams, Nancy
I let my eyebrows go up in surprise. Had he caught my stray thoughts of a moment back? “You think I look like the angel of death?” I asked.
He smiled, and that odd look came over his face again. “Honey, there’s some old stories, myths, like. They say that some old guy like me meets a pretty girl and she wants to go walkin’ with him, and the next day he’s gone. Soon as you said you wanted to take me for a walk, I thought maybe it was you, and maybe that’s what the angel of death is—a pretty girl who takes us for a last walk. Am I right?”
I tried to smile. I tried to laugh, to brush it aside. I tried—but there was something about the look in his eyes, the look of hope and peace and relief that made me answer him.
“I don’t know if I’m an angel, Sam, but I’m going to treat you nice—and then, a little later, you won’t be hurting anymore. It’ll all be over.”
He didn’t run; I had thought he might, that I might have to chase him down and do it so he couldn’t tell anyone. I knew I could have caught him, but I didn’t have to, because if anything, he held me even tighter. He leaned his face down with a question in his eyes, and I smiled and kissed him again as we walked along.
Madeline
I almost laughed when Amber told us about this story, this “angel of death” thing. I’d known about that legend for more than fifty years. I should, since I was its cause.
A pretty girl who came to take the old bums for their last bit of happiness? That was me, though I don’t think Horace ever connected me to it. Oh, he knew I liked the violence, he did, but I always went along with his “no-killing rule” when he was around. And it frustrated me, sometimes, it did, so now and again I’d go down to the district and find one who wouldn’t be missed much. I’d take him off for a stroll, and give him some pleasure before I drained him dry.
I was good at it, too. After the first few, back in the thirties, I hardly ever had one try to get away from me. They knew who I was, these misfits of society, and welcomed my ‘embrace.’ They’d get to make love to my body, and then I’d drink from them. All they felt was a slow weakness, an exhaustion coming over them, and then they’d go to sleep.
Not like with this little twit! Sure, they got kissed, maybe got to play around a little bit, but then they were torn to painful and horrible shreds! Some angel of death she made, right?
Little bitch.
Chapter Twenty-two
Amber
We got close to the beach, and it was only a little after nine-thirty, so we walked along and looked at the sights. I’d never seen it before, of course, but there were signs up about the beauty of the bay all over the area, and I’d seen the ones telling me how to get there while I was looking for the mission district.
It was nice, I’ll admit, but for the abandoned pier. It extended way out over the water, and once there were restaurants and tourist spots on it, but it had been abandoned in the seventies. We just strolled along the beach for a while, and I bought Sam a couple of sandwiches and another bottle of whiskey at a bar—the last bottle was in a trash can a mile or so behind us, by then.
At about ten, I realized I was getting antsy, and knew it was time. I looked up at Sam, who wouldn’t take his arm from around me; I think he was afraid I’d get away.
“Sam?” I said. “Are you ready to go somewhere private?”
He looked down at me and smiled. “Whenever you are, Amber,” was all he said, and I led him down the beach a short distance, to a place where we would be alone, and it took only a few minutes to get there. There was a lot of noise from the city, and not a lot of people on the beach that late. I wasn’t too worried about what anyone might hear, and there was no one close enough to really hear much in any event. I found a spot that was free of both rocks and trash, and we both stripped down to underclothes when I suggested it. I had him sit down on the sand, and then sat right beside him.
We didn’t talk. I began kissing him, and he kissed back pretty well, considering how much he’d had to drink. I got him to lie down, and we just lay there and cuddled for a little while. He apologized twice, saying he was sorry he wasn’t cleaner or smelled better.
He smelled good to me—like a gourmet feast, almost—
“You smell wonderful to me, Sam,” I said, and then I stood and sort of posed so he could get a good look in the moonlight.
“I was right,” he said. “You really are an angel.”
“For tonight, I am,” I said, and then I lay back down beside him. I kissed him again, and I didn’t object when he began to fondle my breasts a bit. I continued to kiss him as he did so, and even considered going further, but I could feel the hunger building inside me. I pulled away, and just looked at him.
He looked up at my eyes and gave me a smile. “Will it hurt?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m afraid it will, but it won’t last long.”
Sam smiled, then closed his eyes. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for coming, and for this—and for being honest.”
I kissed him once more, and then I ate.
He tried not to scream, but it hurt so bad he had to, and his screams were some of the best I’ve ever heard. Listening to him cry out, shrieking in the pain and agony I was inflicting on him, it made him taste so damned good—and then his heart, when it began to falter—
I wish he could have seen the thrilling pleasure he gave me then, when I ate his heart as he died.
Simone
I wish I coulda been with her, when she was with Sam. I woulda loved to have been there, to watch it, maybe even help her give him a good time. I loved when she talked about him, and how he’d been ready to die, willing to let her do what she did and let the pain and torture she give him wash away all of his true torment. There was a look in her eyes, then, a look as said this one didn’t bother her, and said she was okay about it.
I knew how she felt. Long time ago, when I was still with Gilbert, we were close to the village I grew up in, and there was this old man there who’d always been good to me and my sister. He was old, and sick, and everyone knew he was dying. I was huntin’ there one night, and watchin’ to be sure we stayed away from my family, my old friends. I didn’t want to ever see them, or ever drink from them, so I stayed careful, and made Gilbert stay away from them, too.
Well, this night, I was looking, and I heard that old man coughing. I was close to his house, and I went and peeked in his window, and he was sitting up on his bed, coughing and coughing.
There was blood on his face, where he’d coughed it up, and the sight of it made me want him. I was through the window like a shot, and when I got to him I could see that he knew me, he remembered me.
“Elizabeth?” he said—that was my name then—and I just couldn’t lie to him.
“Yeh,” I said, “it’s me, Mr. Haversham. I’m sorry you’re so sick.”
Funny thing, but when I talked to him, then suddenly I didn’t want to drink him. Even the blood on his mouth and chin didn’t make me want to, but he looked at me and I could tell he knew exactly what I was.
“You were always so sweet,” he said. “Is it bad, being dead?”
I shook my head at hint “Nah, it’s not bad. Not a lot different from livin’, really, but for drinkin’ blood.”
And then the most amazin’ thing happened, cause he reached up and touched my face, and then he smiled at me—and then he closed his eyes and tilted his head and let me see how easy it would be to take his throat right then.
“Please,” he whispered, and I knew what he was asking me. He was the first one I ever drank what wanted me to.
For a long, long time, nothin’ ever tasted better than his blood.
Amber
When it was over, I rolled Sam up in his clothes, and carried him into the water. The thought crossed my mind that I was about to enter water where sharks had been known to swim, and with a bloody corpse in my arms; not a good situation. I swam as quickly as I could out to about five hundred yards, then I did as Madeline had suggested and
ripped his lungs and stomach open so they wouldn’t trap any air or gasses inside. Those would make his body float, I knew, and I wanted him to be fish food for a while before he was found, if ever.
I dove down with the body, and watched as it settled to the bottom. There was a bloody trail above me in the water, so I swam along the bottom for a bit before I went back up to the surface, and I was amazed at the things I saw there. There were parts of boats, and dishes, and I saw a gun; I saw bones that I was pretty sure were human—interesting place, the ocean floor.
When I came out onto the beach, I forced all the water out of my lungs and made my way to where we’d lain. I kicked sand all over the spot, to hide the blood. I didn’t know, then, that the high tide would hit that spot later and flush it out quite well; I was just doing all I could to keep anyone from discovering that a man had died there.
The swim had cleaned me pretty thoroughly, so I dried myself and got dressed. I’d eaten so much that I couldn’t even fasten my jeans, so I pulled the zipper up as far as I could and pulled my shirt down over the top. I rolled up my pants legs, carried my shoes and walked in the shallows for a while. A little ways down the beach, I sat on a rock and rinsed the sand and gunk off my feet, then dried them before I put on my shoes. By the time I got back into the city, it was almost midnight. I jogged back to where I’d parked the van, kicking myself for not thinking to park it near the beach!
I found the rail depot in plenty of time, and parked to wait for Horace and the others. I laughed when I saw two taxis pull up and disgorge them and their luggage, and Horace saw me. I started the van and drove over to them, and they loaded everything up.
Simone jumped in and landed on the floor beside me, like usual, and she reached up to pat my bulging belly. “Ducklin, you gotta get some fat clothes!” she said, and we all laughed. Horace watched me closely.
“Everything okay, Amber-luv?” he asked, and I nodded.
“Yes. I did as you suggested, and tonight, instead of being a monster, I was an angel for someone who needed me.”
Horace stared at me, and then grinned. He didn’t say anything, but somehow I knew he understood what I was saying.
Simone was right, though. I hadn’t thought about what it would look like if we’d gone straight back to the house, and I had gained fifteen pounds in only a few hours. It would take another two to three hours for me to absorb all I’d eaten, which would flatten my tummy, but I’d still be “puffy” with water-weight for a few hours more, until I peed it all out.
We drove around for a couple of hours, to give me time to shrink down some. Jen told me how much fun it had been to go shopping, and that reminded me to give Horace the package Greg had brought. He opened it and began passing things out to the others.
“Jen, this will do for now, ‘til I can get some more background built for you. Mad, you’re a brunette here, so we’ll need to hit an all-nighter and get you some hair dye. Rudy, you’re fine, I think, and Simone, you’re a teenager again, just out of school.”
“Yippee!"
“Me, I just need to stand a little straighter, and I’ll pass. Amber, look ahead, there’s a druggist, they’ll have hair dye. Stop so Mad can get what she needs.”
I did, and Madeline went in and was back in minutes. She’d bought a couple of Lady Clairol kits, and a bottle of shoe polish, which she began applying to her blonde hair as I drove along. Minutes later, she had brown hair, even if it did look a little stringy at that moment. I didn’t think anyone would notice, because they’d expect her to look a little rough after a long train trip, right?
Nathan was up and waiting when we got to the house; I explained the delay by saying they’d been hungry, so we’d stopped to eat, and he accepted that. He and Horace shook hands, and then Nathan and I gave the vampires a tour of their new home.
“Amber-luv, you’ve done an excellent job,” Horace said, with a thicker accent than usual. I reminded myself that he was supposed to be an Englishman who was just moving over to the US, so of course his accent should be more noticeable. I smiled at him.
“Thank you, Sir,” I said, and tipped my head at him. He chuckled, and Nathan did, too.
“Mr. St. John,” Nathan began, but Horace cut him off. “None of that rot, now, my good man,” he said. “My name is Horace, and I expect it to be used. Likewise, these parasites I’ve brought with me are my cousin, Rudolph Metzger, but call him Rudy; this is my niece, Simone Longhaven; and my dear, dear friends, Madeline Soames and Jennifer Lord. Please inform the staff that we are very informal, and expect to be addressed so.
“Also, you’ll want to know that we’re an odd lot; we tend to sleep all the day, and we do our living at night! If you’ve any crises to come up that must be dealt with, go to Amber, that’s her job. She has my power of attorney, and can make any decision you need, but God help anyone who disturbs our sleep, got it? No maids, no housekeepers, no one comes in when we’re sleeping! When we get up for the evening, we’ll want breakfast in our rooms, and once we’ve left them, the maids can clean our rooms to their little heart’s content, but ‘til then, nobody comes through our doors.”
Nathan gave a tight smile that seemed to me to mean he wasn’t very happy about these instructions, but he nodded and smiled. “Very good, Sir,” he said, and that seemed to settle the matter. All the intros made and the tour over, the vampires all went up to choose bedrooms and start unpacking, and Nathan went back to bed.
Life in California was about to begin!
Chapter Twenty-three
Amber
Once Nathan was out of the house, we all met in Horace’s room.
“Amber-luv, the house is grand. Good choice,” he said. “For the next few days, it’ll be up to you to make sure the staff obeys my instructions about staying out of our rooms, but they’ll catch on quick. Have them leave a tray of whatever was for dinner outside each of our rooms every evening, say about eight o’clock; the sun is usually low enough then that we’ll be up, and we’ll take the trays in. We won’t eat it, of course, but it keeps the suspicions down if we keep sending mostly empty trays back down. What we really do is flush it.”
“Lucky you,” I said. “If I’m at home at mealtimes, I’m gonna have to sit down and eat. Do you guys get the runs after you eat normal food, too?”
‘‘Yes, we do, and it’s not something we like to talk about,” Rudy said with a grimace. Jen and Madeline laughed at him, and Simone made a sneer.
Horace smiled at us. “You’re right, Amber,” he said. “As the normal one, you have to keep up the act, so make a point of eating a meal with the staff now and then. And don’t mind these whiners, you get used to the necessities of evacuation.” He looked around the room. “Okay, anything else, then? The sun’ll be up shortly, and we all need to get to bed. Amber, if an emergency comes up, you, and you alone, can come in here and wake me. It won’t be easy, but as long as the window is covered, I can wake enough to at least speak with you. Other than an emergency, though, I don’t want to be bothered. Got it?”
“Got it!” I said, and that ended the meeting. We all went our separate ways, and I went to my room to relax until morning, but I got bored. I remembered the library, which was just down the hall, and got up to go find a book to read.
Listening carefully, I knew there was no one in the house, so I didn’t bother to turn on a light; I was afraid Nathan would see it and come running to see what I needed, and I felt capable of choosing a book without help. Most of the books I saw were pretty old, but I found some that looked interesting. I’d never read any of Jules Verne’s work before then, or Hemingway’s or several others. I took a couple back to my room and began to read.
About five-thirty I heard the back door open, and voices talking softly: Angel and her kitchen helpers were coming in to start their day, and I heard Faith’s voice, too. I knew I was supposed to have been up all night, but I decided that a little breakfast would be a small price to pay for some company, so I went into my bathroom and took a shower, th
en got dressed and went to the kitchen.
Faith saw me and smiled, and I gave her a smile of my own in return. Angel invited me to come and join them for breakfast—steak and eggs—and I sat down next to Faith. One of the kitchen girls, Meg, brought me a cup of coffee.
“You’re up awful early,” Faith said, and I shrugged.
“Can’t sleep,” I said. “I’ll catch a nap later.”
She looked at my cup. “Not if you drink much of that, you won’t. That’s Gramp’s coffee, and he likes it strong!"
I tasted it, and she was right; it was very strong. I added sugar, sipped again, and then added a little more. “It’s not that bad,” I said, but I was thinking that the coffee would help explain why I wasn’t sleeping the day away.
Nathan came in a few minutes later, and was surprised to find me sitting there. I told him the same story, just couldn’t sleep, and he nodded as he joined us all at the table. We all chatted as we ate, and I was struck by how much their family acted like my own, back home.
And the food! Oh, it was wonderful! I decided that the unpleasant aspects of getting rid of it were worth the pleasure of eating Angel’s cooking. Steak and eggs at the Kewpee were good, but they’d be thrown out to the dogs if any of the customers ever tasted Angel’s.
