Stalking the Vampire Read Free Page A

this time of year. And there's a darling miniature pegasus that just began showing up two weeks ago.”
    Mallory frowned. “That's kind of contradictory, isn't it?”
    â€œI don't follow you, John Justin.”
    He gestured first to the heads and then to the little pegasus that was just dropping down to the window ledge. “Do you kill them or nurture them?”
    â€œEvery creature on the wall was intent on ripping me to shreds,” she answered. “Even so, I gave each of them a sporting chance. But these poor little babies”—she gestured to a trio of approaching harpies—“just want a little food and a safe place to eat it.”
    She suddenly reached out a hand and steadied herself against the wall.
    â€œDamn!” said Mallory. “I've never been here before, and it was so interesting I almost forgot why we came. Where's your nephew?”
    â€œHe's sleeping.”
    Mallory looked out the window. “Twilight,” he announced. “He should be waking up.”
    And as if on cue, a slender young man, a few inches shorter than Mallory, with unkempt wavy brown hair, suddenly opened a bedroom door and walked out into the living room, clad in pajamas, a bathrobe, and slippers.
    â€œI heard voices,” he said, blinking his eyes as if trying to focus them.
    â€œRupert, this is my partner, John Justin Mallory,” said Winnifred. “John Justin, this is my nephew, Rupert Newton.”
    â€œJust don't call me Fig,” said Rupert. “I hate it when they call me that.”
    â€œIs there anything else I should call you?” asked Mallory, stepping closer to him.
    â€œLike what?” asked the young man, puzzled.
    â€œOh, I don't know,” said the detective with a shrug. “Vlad, maybe. Or Nosferatu.”
    Rupert jumped back as if he'd been stung. “How did you know?”
    â€œI'm a trained detective,” said Mallory dryly. “Besides, your aunt is pale as a ghost and keeps trying to fall down.”
    â€œI'm sorry, Aunt Winnifred,” said Rupert. “I didn't mean to.”
    â€œThen you are a vampire?” she said, surprised.
    â€œNot yet, I suspect,” said Mallory, studying the young man. “But he knows a vampire, don't you, Rupert?” He pointed to Rupert's neck. “You see? Just like yours, though he's obviously had it a lot longer.”
    â€œA week,” confirmed Rupert miserably.
    â€œHow'd it happen?” asked Mallory. “Did you go out with a girl who had a reputation for giving dynamite hickeys?”
    â€œYou're making fun of me!” protested Rupert.
    â€œKid, there's nothing funny about being one of the undead,” said Mallory. “I'd say I want to help you, but I don't know how. My first job is to protect your aunt.”
    â€œI don't want to hurt her!”
    â€œI believe you,” said Mallory. “But there are still a few rays of sunlight in the sky. How will you feel about it two hours from now?”
    â€œI'd never harm Aunt Winnifred!”
    â€œHow do you think I knew what to look for?” demanded Mallory. “Winnifred, turn your head.” She did so, and he pointed to the two holes on the side of her neck. “Do you even remember doing that?”
    Rupert stared at his aunt, wide-eyed. “No,” he said. Then, “I thought it was a dream.”
    â€œOkay,” said Mallory, “so once the urge or the hunger or whatever you want to call it hits, you don't know what you're doing, and after you've done it you don't remember it.” He turned to Winnifred. “Like I said, he can't stay anywhere near you.”
    Winnifred seemed about to object, then changed her mind and remained silent.
    â€œYou don't want to harm your aunt,” said Mallory. “I don't want her harmed. Will you let me relocate you to a hotel until I can find someone who can help you?”
    Rupert nodded his agreement. “How will you keep me