Dead as a doornail - By Charlaine Harris Page 0,41

I was still struggling to be alert.

“The vampire says it was that human, there,” she said, pointing to the left of the house. But for a long minute my eyes were fixed on the terrible sight of flames, and the red glow of fire lighting the night. The back porch and part of the kitchen were blazing.

I made myself look at a huddled form on the ground, close to a forsythia in bud. Charles was kneeling by it. “Have you called the fire department?” I asked them both as I picked my way around the house in my bare feet to have a look at the recumbent figure. I peered at the dead man’s slack face in the poor light. He was white, clean-shaven, and probably in his thirties. Though conditions were hardly ideal, I didn’t recognize him.

“Oh, no, I didn’t think of it.” Charles looked up from the body. He came from a time before fire departments.

“And I forgot my cell phone,” said Claudine, who was thoroughly modern.

“Then I have to go back in and do it, if the phones still work,” I said, turning on my heel. Charles rose to his inconsiderable height and stared at me.

“You will not go back in there.” This was definitely an order from Claudine. “New man, you run fast enough to do that.”

“Fire,” Charles said, “is very quickly fatal to vampires.”

It was true; they went up like a torch once they caught. Selfishly, for a second I almost insisted; I wanted my coat and my slippers and my purse.

“Go call from Bill’s phone,” I said, pointing in the right direction, and off he took like a jackrabbit. The minute he was out of sight and before Claudine could stop me, I dashed back in the front door and made my way to my room. The smoke was much thicker, and I could see the flames a few feet down the hall in the kitchen. As soon as I saw the flames I knew I’d made a huge mistake by reentering the house, and it was hard not to panic. My purse was right where I’d left it, and my coat was tossed over the slipper chair in a corner of my room. I couldn’t find my slippers, and I knew I couldn’t stay. I fumbled in a drawer for a pair of socks, since I knew for sure they were there, and then I ran out of my room, coughing and choking. Acting through sheer instinct, I turned briefly to my left to shut the door to the kitchen, and then whirled to hurry out the front door. I fell over a chair in the living room.

“That was stupid,” said Claudine the fairy, and I shrieked. She grabbed me around the waist and ran out of the house again, with me under her arm like a rolled-up carpet.

The combination of shrieking and coughing tied my respiratory system in knots for a minute or two, during which time Claudine moved me farther away from my house. She sat me down on the grass and put the socks on my feet. Then she helped me stand up and get my arms into the coat. I buttoned it around me gratefully.

This was the second time Claudine had appeared out of nowhere when I was about to get into serious trouble. The first time, I’d fallen asleep at the wheel after a very long day.

“You’re making it awfully hard on me,” she said. She still sounded cheerful, but maybe not quite as sweet.

Something changed about the house, and I realized the night-light in the hall had gone out. Either the electricity was out, or the line had been shut down in town by the fire department.

“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling that was appropriate, though I had no idea why Claudine felt put upon when it was my house that was burning. I wanted to hurry to the backyard to get a better view, but Claudine caught hold of my arm.

“No closer,” she said simply, and I could not break her hold. “Listen, the trucks are coming.”

Now I could hear the fire engines, and I blessed every person who was coming to help. I knew the pagers had gone off all over the area, and the volunteers had rushed to the firehouse straight from their beds.

Catfish Hunter, my brother’s boss, pulled up in his car. He leaped out and ran right to me. “Anyone left inside?” he asked urgently. The town’s fire truck pulled in after him,