The Undead Kama Sutra Read Free Page A

intergalactic hearse was probably on the other side of the moon by now.
    The jets disappeared into the clouds and it was just me and my questions. Didn’t the Air Force debunk UFOs? How would they explain this? Lie, of course.
    I returned the Wave Runner to its slip. So far I had the name Goodman, a murder using an alien blaster, UFOs, and a warning to save the Earth women. As far as leads, I had next to bupkus.
    The cawing of a crow echoed through the misty darkness.
    A crow? What was a crow doing out in such a cold, wet night?
    To find me.
    The crow meant the Araneum—which translated into “spiderweb” in Latin and was the formal name for the worldwide network of vampires formed to protect us from extermination by humans—wanted me for a job. The Araneum used crows as messengers, and why else would that bird be here?
    I felt my shoulders sag. I didn’t need more work; I was on vacation.
    A small red aura gave away the crow’s position, where it sat tucked along the bottom of a shack, trying its best to stay out of the rain. The crow cawed again, an irritated squawk of discomfort.
    “Shut up, you feathered bastard. I didn’t ask for you tocome around.” The crow never brought good news, like I was needed in Cancún to rub sunscreen on horny coeds.
    I approached, my wet shoes crunching the sand and broken shells covering the beach. I wondered what the Araneum wanted at this hour. The crow kept its small black head drawn into its shoulders to conserve warmth. This bird didn’t seem pleased to be out here, either. To the Araneum, it didn’t make a difference if you were a vampire or a crow. Duty called.
    The crow turned its shivering head toward me and blinked. It struggled to stand, as if its joints had rusted, and then walked toward me in a stiff-legged limp. A shiny metal capsule was clipped to its left leg.
    I picked up the crow. Its wet feathers crinkled. The small, warm body trembled. I tucked the crow’s torso under my armpit. The bird squirmed and I clamped my arm to keep it still. I unclipped the capsule, a tube made of filigreed platinum and gold, with a ruby-encrusted cap.
    I hunched over to protect the capsule from the rain.
    The Araneum used swatches of vampire skin as notepaper, a precaution to maintain secrecy, since the skin would burst into flame when exposed to sunlight. Rumor was the patch of skin came from a condemned vampire. But it was dark and raining. What about exposure to water?
    I shook raindrops from the capsule and unscrewed the cap. The odor of rancid meat burst out like a fart. Yep, vampire hide. I extended a talon from my index finger and used the long, narrow tip to draw out the contents.
    Surprisingly, there were two items inside: a folded squareof onionskin-like parchment—the vampire skin—and a piece of newsprint.
    The parchment unfolded to the size of the palm of my hand. A message was written in ornate calligraphy, in brown ink—dried blood? It read:
    Our esteemed Felix Gomez,
    The vampire underworld has a new threat, the extraterrestrials. Because of your experience with the aliens, we have chosen you to investigate this threat. Under no circumstances are you to allow yourself or any other vampire to be compromised by these extraterrestrials.
    What did the Araneum mean, “compromised”? Captured? Exposed as a supernatural? How could that happen? Any other vampire? What other vampire? And what about “these extraterrestrials”? The only ones I knew just left Earth. Why was the Araneum passing this information now, after I’d sent the alien Gilbert Odin on his way? If this was so damn important, why didn’t the Araneum alert me sooner?
    We expect your usual thoroughness. Your investigation is to be kept confidential.
    Report when completed.
Araneum
    Report when completed what? Thoroughness at what? Who was I supposed to blab the investigation to? Talk radio?The Araneum knew more about this threat than I did. Why were they so stingy with information?
    Rain trickled down