wasn’t going to say anything.
“Why?”
“Why?” He sounded oddly disconcerted. “Well, because it seemed like a good idea to me. Having a list of all America’s vampires, and at least some of the rest of the world’s? That was a valuable project, and actually, it was kind of fun to compile. And once I started doing research, I thought of including pictures. And aliases. And histories. It just grew.”
“So you’ve been, um, compiling a—like a directory? Of vampires?”
“Exactly.” Bill’s glowing face lit up even brighter. “I just started one night, thinking how many other vampires I’d come across in my travels over the past century, and I started making a list, and then I started adding a drawing I’d done or a photograph I’d taken.”
“So vampires do photograph? I mean, they show up in pictures?”
“Sure. We never liked to have our picture made, when photography became a common thing in America, because a picture was proof we’d been in a particular place at a particular time, and if we showed up looking exactly the same twenty years later, well, it was obvious what we were. But since we have admitted our existence, there is no point clinging to the old ways.”
“I’ll bet some vampires still do.”
“Of course. There are some who still hide in the shadows and sleep in crypts every night.”
(This from a guy who slept in the soil of the cemetery from time to time.)
“And other vampires helped you with this?”
“Yes,” he said, sounding surprised. “Yes, a few did. Some enjoyed the exercise of memory . . . some used it as a reason to search for old acquaintances, travel to old haunts. I am sure that I don’t have all the vampires in America, especially the recent immigrants, but I think I have probably eighty percent of them.”
“Okay, so why is the queen so anxious to have this program? Why would the other vampires want it, once they learned about it? They could assemble all the same information, right?”
“Yes,” he said. “But it would be far easier to take it from me. And as for why it’s so desirable to have this program. . . wouldn’t you like to have a booklet that listed all the other telepaths in the United States?”
“Oh, sure,” I said. “I could get lots of tips on how to handle my problem, or maybe how to use it better.”
“So, wouldn’t it be good to have a directory of vampires in the United States, what they’re good at, where their gifts lie?”
“But surely some vampires really wouldn’t want to be in such a book,” I said. “You’ve told me that some vamps don’t want to come out, that they want to stay in the darkness and hunt secretly.”
“Exactly.”
“Those vamps are in there, too?”
Bill nodded.
“Do you want to get yourself staked?”
“I never realized how tempting this project would be to anyone else. I never thought of how much power it would give to the one who owned it, until others began trying to steal it.”
Bill looked glum.
The sound of shouting in the apartment next door drew our attention.
Alcide and Debbie were at it again. They were really bad for each other. But some mutual attraction kept them ricocheting back to each other. Maybe, away from Alcide, Debbie was a nice person.
Nah, I couldn’t bring myself to believe that. But maybe she was at least tolerable when Alcide’s affections weren’t an issue.
Of course they should separate. They should never be in the same room again.
And I had to take this to heart.
Look at me. Mangled, drained, staked, battered. Lying in a cold apartment in a strange city with a vampire who had betrayed me.
A big decision was standing right in front of my face, waiting to be recognized and enacted.
I shoved Bill away, and wobbled to my feet. I pulled on my stolen jacket. With his silence heavy at my back, I opened the door to the living room. Eric was listening with some amusement to the battle going on in the next apartment.
“Take me home,” I said.
“Of course,” he said. “Now?”
“Yes. Alcide can drop my things by when he goes back to Baton Rouge.”
“Is the Lincoln drivable?”
“Oh, yes.” I pulled the keys out of my pocket. “Here.”
We walked out of the empty apartment and took the elevator down to the garage.
Bill didn’t follow.
Chapter Thirteen
ERIC CAUGHT UPwith me as I was climbing into the Lincoln.
“I had to give Bill a few instructions about cleaning up the mess he caused,” he said, though I didn’t ask.
Eric was