"Pike, Christopher - Last Vampire 4 - Phantom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pike Christopher)

He bites his lower lip and stares at the floor. "That's easy to say but it's not easy to live through. When you met me, I had AIDS. My death was certain-it was all I could see. It was like a slow-motion horror film that never ended. It was only your blood that saved me." He pauses. "How many others could it have saved?"
"Now you sound like Arturo."
"He was a brilliant man."
"He was a dangerous man."
Seymour shrugs. "You always have an answer for everything. I can't talk to you."
"But you can. I'm a good listener. But you have to listen as well. You have to give me a chance to explain how I feel. I'm happy the experiment has succeeded. It means more to me than you can imagine. And I'm happy there's no going back."
He catches my eye. "Is that true?"
"You know it is true. There is no more vampire blood, anywhere. It's over." I squeeze his arm and pull him closer. "Let it be over. I need you now, you know, more than I needed you before." I bury my face in his shoulder. "You have to teach me how to be a nerd."
My small joke makes him chuckle. "Can we have sex now?" he asks.
I raise my head and plant a wet kiss on his cheek. "Sure. When we're both a little older." I shake him, but not so hard as I used to. "How dare you ask me a question like that? We haven't been on a date yet."
He tries hard to accept the loss of his world, the death of his magic. He forces a smile. "There's a vampire movie in town. We could see it, and eat popcorn, and jeer, and then have sex afterward." He waits for an answer. "It's what most nerd couples do every Saturday evening."
I suddenly remember. It has taken me this long. There must be something wrong with my mind. I turn away and swear under my breath. "Damn."
"What is it?" he asks. "You don't like popcorn?"
"We have to get out of town. We have to leave now."
"Why?"
"There was someone here a few minutes ago. A young man-he was knocking at the door."
"Who was it?"
"I don't know. I didn't open the door. But this guy-he called me by name. He called me Sita. He kept insisting I open the door."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because I didn't know who he was! Because I'm human now!" I pause and frown. "His voice sounded familiar. I swear, I knew it, but I just can't place it."
"What makes you think he's dangerous?"
"Do you have to ask that question? No one alive, except you, knows me by the name Sita." I stop again. "He said he would come back. He laughed as he said it. He sounded so sure of himself."
"What else did he say?"
"He called himself my darling."
Seymour was thoughtful. "Could Arturo have surнvived the blast?"
"No."
"But he was a hybrid. Half human, half vampire. It's possible. Don't dismiss the possibility."
I shake my head. "Even Yaksha could not have survived that blast."
"But you did."
"I floated away at the last minute. You know, I told you." I turn toward the kitchen, my car keys. "The sooner we leave the better."
Seymour grabs my arm. "I disagree. You have said there are no more vampires. What do we have to fear from this person? Better we stay and find out who he is."
I consider. "The government must have known Arturo was using this house. Such records were probably kept somewhere else besides the army base I destroyed. The government might be watching this house now."
"But you said you knew this person."
"I'm not sure about that. There was something in his voice, though ..."
"What?" Seymour demands when I don't finish.
I strain to remember through my newfound human fog. "His tone-it gave me a chill."
Seymour acts like a wise guy. "In the real world not everybody who comes to the front door wants to kill you. Some guys just want to sell you a vacuum cleaner."
I remain stubborn. "We're getting out of here now." Grabbing the keys off the kitchen table, I peer out the back window and see nothing significant. In the distance, the lights of the Strip come alive and shimнmer, colored beacons in a desert wasteland. A nuclear bomb just exploded but human vice will not be postponed. Of course the wind was blowing the other way, but I do not judge. I have always been a gambler. I understand better than most why the atomic dice did not betray the city of sin. Why the fallout fell the other way. Still, I swear again. "Damn. I wish I had my old vision right now. Just for a minute."
"And I bet your old hearing." Seymour comes up at my side and pats me on the back. "You're going to make that same wish a lot of times in the next few days."

2

I own houses all over the world, some modest places to relax when I enter a foreign country in search of fresh blood, others so extravagant one would think I was an Arabian princess. My home in Beverly Hills, where we drive after leaving Las Vegas, is one of the most opulent ones. As we enter the front door, Seymour stares in wonder.
"If we stay here," he says, "I have to get new clothes."
"You can have the clothes, but we're not staying. Ray's father knew about this house, so the governнment might as well. We're just here to get money, credit cards, clothes, and fresh identification."
Seymour is doubtful. "The government knew you were at the compound. They'll think you died in the blast."
"They'll have to know for sure that I died. They were obsessed with my blood, so they'll research every possible lead concerning me." I step to the window and peer outside. It is the middle of the night. "They may be watching us now."
Seymour shrugs. "Are you going to get me fresh ID?"
I glance at him. "You should go home."
He shakes his head firmly. "I'm not going to leave you. Forget it. I mean, you don't even know how to be human."