"Elrod, P N - Quincy Morris, Vampire e-txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

Dracula paused before one of the big black horses in its stall. The animal was calm enough, probably well used to its master's needs. It didn't budge a muscle as I all but dropped at its feet. I managed to pull myself up a bit, and there I was, in close proximity to the vein on its leg.

I could hear the deep, regular thumping of its heart. Smell the blood.

"This you must do to live," said Dracula, an edge of impatience in his tone as I continued to hesitate. "Take it now, before madness takes you."

Slumping, I finally gave in to the inevitable.

It was as bad as I'd anticipated, worse even. The touching of the tough hide with my lips, my sharp teeth working to cut the skin, finally breaking through. I made a mess of it with the stuff flowing onto my face, staining my hands and clothesЧ

Then the first taste of it struck my tongue.

Changing everything.

My realization that I'd been a fool would come later, when I could think again. For now all was sensation as the blood welled into my mouth and I swallowed again and again. It was different from all the other pleasures I'd ever known before, intense as any and comparable to none. I was aware of the living heat flooding through me, erasing the awful cold within. It was better than a shot of the finest whiskey and far more intoxicating. There seemed an unending supply, and I drew on it greedily, a starved child whose hunger is at long last appeased.

I had no judgment over how long it took, having lost all accounting of time, nor did I care. It mattered not. I drank my fill and more.

When I finally took command of myself and drew away, I was quite alone except for the horse, which seemed none the worse for what I'd done. My host had departed, probably back to his library and whatever concerns he'd left there while dealing with me. I was glad of the privacy. It would give me the chance to organize my thoughts before seeing him again.

I owed him a profound apology.
* * *
He accepted it graciously enough, showing the sort of manners that would please even an Englishman.

"You had to discover for yourself," Dracula said with a slight wave of his blunt fingers. He was seated at his table before a drift of papers, pots of ink, and several goose quill pens. To see him, a deadly Nosferatu, amid such prosaic articles lent a bizarre note to my changing perception of what life was like for him. One moment he's urging me to drink blood, and the next he's working away at some dull-looking business task.

"I'll allow the truth of that, sir. You've been uncommonly patient."

"It is an acquired virtue for me, I fear. Happily you did not exhaust it before coming to your senses. May I now safely conclude that you've achieved an acceptance of your condition?"

I eased into the chair by the fire, opening my palms to its heat out of habit rather than need. Prior to coming up I'd washed away the blood from my hands and face and donned a clean shirt from a supply of clothing my host had provided. All proved to be of English make, and I could guess that it had been the stuff left behind by Harker when he'd made his escape from his prison of a room last summer.

"I accept that I must drink blood to live," I said.

Something like disappointment shimmered in his eyes. "Ah. Well. It is a beginning. Small steps are best when one is mastering a new thing."

"Providing one is willing to master it."

Dracula folded a sheet of paper up and sealed it, impressing the soft wax with a ring on his left forefinger. He added the finished document to a growing stack of similar items in an ornate metal box. "Until another dilemma makes a fever in your brain?"

He did have a point. "This takes some getting used to; I'm sorry to cause you inconvenience."

"Bah. You've done better than others I've seen. Some have gone mad from the change, but then they were of my breed. I was uncertain if you would adjust yourself, but this little progress is good."

"And if I'd gone mad?"

His heavy brows quirked and his mouth twitched. "Then I'd have dealt with you as with them. You may take some comfort in the knowledge that you would have not suffered."

His matter-of-fact manner on the subject of my death almost riled me, but I could see his side of things too well. If I'd gone mad, especially with my formidable new strengths and abilities, then I'd need killing. Best to leave that dog lie. Or wolf, as he might have referred to it.