There were a bunch of Little People with the Cirque - twenty of them - and one was hunting with Evra and me. He'd been with the Cirque since soon after me and Mr. Crepsley joined. I could tell him apart from the others because he had a limp in his left leg. Evra and me had taken to calling him Lefty.
"Hey, Lefty!" I shouted. "How's it going?" The small figure in the blue hooded cape didn't answer - he never did - but he patted his stomach, which was the sign we needed more food.
"Lefty says to keep going," I told Evra.
"Figures," he sighed.
As I prowled for another rat, I spotted a small silver cross in the garbage. I picked it up and brushed off the dirt. Studying the cross, I smiled. To think I used to believe vampires were terrified of crosses! Most of that stuff in old movies and books is crap. Crosses, holy water, garlic: none of those matter to vampires. We can cross running water. We don't have to be invited into a house before entering. We cast shadows and reflections (though a full vampire can't be photographed - something to do with bouncing atoms). We can't change shape or fly.
A stake through the heart will kill a vampire. But so will a well-placed bullet, or fire, or a heavy falling object. We're harder to kill than humans, but we aren't immortal. Far from it.
I placed the cross on the ground and stood back. Focusing my will, I tried making it jump into my left hand. I stared hard for all of a minute, then clicked the fingers of my right hand.
Nothing happened.
I tried again but still couldn't do it. I'd been trying for months, with no success. Mr. Crepsley made it look simple - one click of his fingers and an object would be in his hand, even if it was several feet away - but I hadn't been able to copy him.
I was getting along pretty well with Mr. Crepsley. He wasn't such a bad guy. We weren't friends, but I'd accepted him as a teacher and no longer hated him like I did when he first turned me into a half-vampire.
I put the cross in my pocket and proceeded with the hunt. After a while I found a half-starved cat in the remains of an old microwave oven. It was after rats, too.
The cat hissed at me and the hair on its neck raised. I pretended to turn my back on it, then spun quickly, grabbed it by the neck, and twisted. It gave a strangled little cry and then went limp. I stuck it in the bag and went to see how Evra was doing.
I didn't enjoy killing animals, but hunting was part of my nature. Anyway, I had no sympathy for cats. The blood of cats is poisonous to vampires. Drinking from one wouldn't have killed me, but it would have made me sick. And cats are hunters, too. The way I saw it, the less cats there were, the more rats there'd be.
That night, back in camp, I tried moving the cross with my mind again. I'd finished my jobs for the day, and the show wouldn't be starting for another couple of hours, so I had lots of time to kill.
It was a cold late-November night. There hadn't been any snow yet, but it was threatening. I was dressed in my colorful pirate costume: a light green shirt, dark purple pants, a gold-and-blue jacket, a red satin cloth around my waist, a brown hat with a feather in it, and soft shoes with toes that curled in on themselves.
I wandered away from the vans and tents and found a secluded spot around the side of the old mill.
I stuck the cross on a piece of wood in front of me, took a deep breath, concentrated on the cross, and willed it into the palm of my outstretched hand.
No good.
I shuffled closer, so my hand was only inches away from the cross.
"I command you to move," I said, clicking my fingers. "I order you to move." Click. "Move." Click. " Move!"
I shouted this last word louder than I meant to and stomped my foot in anger.
"What are you doing?" a familiar voice asked behind me.
Looking up, I saw Mr. Crepsley emerging out of the shadows.
"Nothing," I said, trying to hide the cross.
"What is that?" he asked. His eyes missed nothing.
"Just a cross I found while Evra and me were hunting," I said, holding it out.
"What were you doing with it?" Mr. Crepsley asked suspiciously.
"Trying to make it move," I said, deciding it was time to ask the vampire about his magic secrets. "How do you do it?"
A smile spread across his face, causing the long scar that ran down the left side to crinkle. "So that is what has been bothering you." He chuckled. He stretched out a hand and clicked his ringers, causing me to blink. Next thing I knew, the cross was in his hand.
"How's it done?" I asked. "Can only full vampires do it?"