"Christopher Pike - The Last Vampire 06 - Creatures of Forever" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pike Christopher)

The Last Vampire 06



Christopher Pike




1



I am a very powerful vampire. In the recent past several encounters have served to increase my
abili-ties. My creator, Yaksha, allowed me to drink his blood before he perished. Yaksha, who originally
made me a vampire five thousand years ago, was much stronger than I was. His final transfusion of blood
heightened my strength as well as my senses, both my physical senses and supernatural ones. After that
my blood was mingled, through the secret of ancient alchemy, with that of the divine child. I am not
exactly sure what this child's blood did for me because I am still not sure what this child can do. Yet it did
make me feel stronger, definitely more invinci-ble. Finally, before she died, my own daughter Kalika gave
me her blood in order to save me. And this last infusion has done amazing things for me. Really, I feel I
have become my daughter, the irreproachable Kali avatar, and am capable of anything. The feeling is
both reassuring and disturbing. With all this in-crease in power, I have to wonder if I have grown any
wiser.

I am still up to my old tricks.

Killing for kicks, and for love.

In a sense, since vampires are considered dead by living beings, I killed my friend, Seymour Dorsten, by
making him a vampire. But I only did this to prevent his certain death. I have to wonder if Lord Krishna
will forgive me this--the third exception to my vow to him. I question if I am still protected by his divine
grace. Actually, I wonder if Krishna has allowed me to become so powerful because he no longer
intends to look after me. It would be just like him, to bestow a boon and a curse in the same act. God
has a wicked sense of humor. I once met Krishna and still think about him.

At present I sit in a bar in Santa Monica with Seymour on the stool beside me. We are drinking Cokes
and chatting with a young lady, but Seymour is thinking of blood and sex. I know his thoughts because,
since drinking my daughter's blood, my mental radar has become incredibly sensitive. Before I could only
sense emotions, now I get all the particu-lars. And I know that while Seymour flirts with the young lady,
the guy at the end of the bar, with the swan tattoo on his left wrist and the shine on his black wing tips, is
thinking of murder.

I have been watching this guy since I sat down, quietly reading his mind. He has killed twice in the last
month and tonight he wants to make it number three. He prefers helpless young females, who silently
scream as he slowly strangles them. But even though I try to catch his eye--smiling,winking--Iam not
successful and that puzzles me. I mean, I am cute and helpless looking, with my long blond hair and clear
blue eyes, my tight blue jeans and my expensive black leather coat. But I intend to kill this guy, oh yes,
before the night is through. He will die as slowly as his victims, and I will not feel a twinge of guilt.