"Goulart, Ron - Vampirella 01 - Bloodstalk" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goulart Ron)

"How did you get in?"
"This is an old house," replied the doctor. "They were very fond of secret passages in the last century. Now, I advise you to get a bit more rest before breakfast. We don't want you suffering a relapse."
CHAPTER FOUR
Thunder rumbled on the other side of the dark hills. The rain fell heavily, splashing on the cracked marble headstones and the forlorn plaster angels. The two men made their way along the iron fence of the graveyard and into the shingled chapel next to it.
Adam Van Helsing helped his blind father out of his raincoat and got out of his. He hung the dripping coats on a brass hat tree in the chapel foyer. "Nobody around," he said.
"He's in the embalming room," said his father. He clutched a small black satchel in both hands.
Rain drummed on the chapel roof. A distant door creaked open and slammed shut. Another door did the same. A plump young man in a tight-fitting dark suit appeared in the foyer. "Forgive me for keeping you waiting on this sad - son of a bitch!" He swatted suddenly at the top of his curly blond head and glared up at the ceiling. "Another goddamn leak." Wiping the rain from his head, he shifted position. "You must be the beloved kin of the late, lamented Kurt Van Helsing."
"We are," replied Adam.
"If you'll follow me, we will view his - watch out for that goddamn slippery spot!" The young man led them down a dim hallway. Taking hold of a doorknob, he said, "I think you'll find him looking very peaceful and serene, considering - shit! These goddamn doors either flap open all the time or they stick shut tighter than -
"Let me try it." Adam reached around the plump mortician and opened the door.
"I only bought this setup three months ago." The young man ushered them into a small, pink-walled room. "Figured that with a location like this, practically on top of the goddamn cemetery, I'd do a land-office business. But -"
"Would you leave us alone now?" requested old Van Helsing.
"Certainly. I understand your desire to be in privacy with your dear late brother," said the mortician. "I did want to explain, before you get a good look at him, that because you requested no embalming and no cosmetic -"
"We understand," said Adam.
"We've had him on ice since he was brought down from the mountains. Even so, I think maybe -"
"Getting up to the accident site took longer than we'd anticipated," said the blind man. "And nowЕ"
"Yes, certainly." He bowed out into the hall. "If you need me for anything else, you'll have to give a holler. The goddamn buzzers aren't working."
Adam closed the door on him. He crossed to the wheeled table which held the coffin of his uncle. "The sheriffs account was right, Dad. The body is nearly bloodless."
"The marks," said the old man as he approached the open coffin. "Look for the marks, Adam."
His son was leaning over the corpse. "Yes, there are two small punctures in the throat, in the jugular vein," he said. "No one without reason to look would have noticed them."
A pained sigh escaped from the blind man. "Then it is exactly as I foresaw." He unsnapped his small black satchel and withdrew two things from it - a heavy hammer and a sharp wooden spike. He let the satchel drop to the floor.
"You're sure you have to do this, Dad?"
The blind man nodded. "It must be done, Adam, or Kurt's body will never rest in its grave," he told his son. "He has been attacked by a vampire, thus there is a strong possibility that he will become a vampire, too. UnlessЕ" He reached out over the body of his brother. "After this is done, we will close the coffin and seal it."
"Yes, that's all been arranged already."
"Is the stake directly over Kurt's heart?"
"Yes."
Van Helsing swung the hammer.
CHAPTER FIVE
She couldn't find her way out through the wall. The door of her bedroom was once again locked. Vampirella prowled the midnight room. She knew she was completely recovered from the effects of the plane crash and exposure and from the drugs which Dr. Westron had administered to her while she was still only half-conscious. Westron must be aware of her recovery, too, and he'd soon be making further demands on her.
"Better find that formula right now," Vampirella told herself, "and then bid the good doctor a fond farewell."
The leaded windows were barred. No one could get out that way.
No person, at least.
Now that she was completely recuperated, Vampirella could use all her powers and abilities.
She opened one of the barred windows a few inches.
Wind and drizzling rain rushed in from the darkness outside.
The dark-haired girl took a step back. She narrowed her eyes and concentrated.
Her voluptuous body seemed to shimmer. Then the girl was gone. In her place a large black bat hovered a few feet above the floor.
The winged creature flapped toward the open window and flew out into the rainy night.
Dr. Westron put his pen aside when the mantel clock struck midnight. Already he could hear the shuffling footsteps in the corridor outside. He pushed back from his desk. The fireplace was much too smoky tonight. He went to a window across from his desk and opened it.
After taking in a deep breath of the chill air, Dr. Westron left the room.
A moment later a large black bat swooped in.
And a moment after that, Vampirella stood on the thick rug beside the doctor's carved-wood desk.
"The formula for the blood-substitute serum is in this desk." That much she'd been able to read from the doctor's mind as he'd sat at his desk.
Kneeling, the long-legged girl began to search through the drawers. The topmost was filled with old letters.
"The good doctor really lets his mail pile up," remarked Vampirella. The letter in her hand was dated 1696, addressed to an Ethan Todd. It dealt with a secret meeting of the Cult of Chaos.
No time for this now. The formula must be found.
Shutting the drawer, she opened the one beneath it.
"Ah, here's his journal." Vampirella grabbed up the fat black notebook. The middle pages, devoted to the past few days, contained a good many references to her. And to Westron's plans for her.
She skimmed over the explicit details. "Good, this is it." Westron had written the blood-substitute formula in his journal. Vampirella ripped out the page.
"Tyler, it's time youЕ what are you doing here?"