"Laymon, Richard - Bite" - читать интересную книгу автора (Laymon Richard)

She tilted her head to the right, giving me a good, clear view of the left side of her neck.
She had a pair of holes down low where the curve was. As if she'd been stabbed there a day or two ago with an ice pick or a freshly sharpened pencil. Neat little punctures, an inch or so apart. Tiny craters plugged by dark, dried fluids.
"What do you think?" she asked.
"You're not going to tell me a vampire did this," I said.
"Think again."
"A _vampire_?"
Gazing into my eyes, she said, "He comes into my bedroom at night, bites me and sucks my blood. What would _you_ call him?"
_Lucky_, I answered in my mind. And felt like a jerk for thinking it.
"Let me feel," I said.
She hoisted an eyebrow. "Go ahead."
I used the tip of my forefinger. Her skin was slightly puffy around the edges of each hole. I really couldn't feel the punctures; they were too small.
"They're real," Cat said.
"Yeah. They are."
Real, but possibly self-inflicted.
A decade had gone by.
At thirteen, fourteen, fifteen and for the small part of her sixteenth year before I'd lost her -- Cat had been impish, tender-hearted, innocent, full of dreams and game for anything.
How much of the old -- the young -- Cat remained?
Had she turned strange, gone mad?
Though her sudden arrival in the middle of the night dressed in nothing but a robe was very odd, she didn't strike me as nuts.
Drawing her robe shut, she said, "I want you to stop him, Sammy. I just can't stand it anymore. I've tried to kill him myself, but he's too strong. I thought maybe you could hide and take him by surprise the next time he comes."
"You want me to kill him?"
"Would you?"
"I don't know," I said.
"Just come over and be with me, okay? Can you do that?"
"Sure."









2


Cat's car was parked on the street in front of my apartment building. On the way out to it, we didn't run into anyone. I walked behind her, carrying my bag.
It was a warm July night. A breeze was blowing softly. It came from the ocean, about eight miles away. If you wanted to be wandering outside in nothing but your robe, this was a good night for it.
At the rear of her car, Cat took the keys out of her pocket. She unlocked the trunk. I swung my bag in. The trunk lid made a good, solid thunk when I shut it.
We split up. I walked to the passenger door, and she went around to the driver's side.
"It isn't locked," she said.
When I opened it, the overhead light came on. We both climbed in. Cat had a difficult time keeping her robe closed. I looked away to avoid embarrassing either of us. We shut our doors and the light went out.
After taking a couple of seconds to straighten her robe, she started the engine. "I should've gotten dressed," she said.
"It's a nice robe," I told her.
She put on the headlights and swung away from the curb. "I just wanted to get away as fast as I could. Didn't even know where I was going. I threw on my robe, grabbed my keys and ran. And ended up at your place."
"You knew where to find me?"
"Sure. I've known for a while."
"For a _while_?"
She turned her head. I looked over at her. "Actually," she said, "I've always known. I've never lost track of you."