"Shame on you, Gavner Purl," Mr. Crepsley said. "You have frightened the boy."
"Seems all I'm good for." The stranger grunted. "Scaring children and little old ladies."
Turning slowly, I came face to face with the man called Gavner Purl. He wasn't very tall, but he was wide, built like a wrestler. His face was a mass of scars and dark patches, and the rims around his eyes were extremely black. His brown hair was cut short, and he was dressed in an ordinary pair of jeans and a baggy white shirt. He had a broad smile and glittering yellow teeth.
It was only when I glanced down at his fingertips and spotted ten scars that I realized he was a vampire. That's how most vampires are created: vampire blood is pumped into them through the soft flesh at the ends of their fingers.
"Darren, this is Gavner Purl," Mr. Crepsley introduced us. "An old, trusted, rather clumsy friend. Gavner, this is Darren Shan."
"Pleased to meet you," the vampire said, shaking my hand. " Youdidn't hear me coming, did you?"
"No," I answered honestly.
"There!" he boomed proudly. "See?"
"Congratulations," Mr. Crepsley said dryly. "If you are ever called upon to sneak into a nursery, you should have no problems."
Gavner grimaced. "I see time hasn't sweetened you," he noted. "As cutting as ever. How long has it been? Fourteen years? Fifteen?"
"Seventeen next February," Mr. Crepsley answered promptly.
"Seventeen!" Gavner whistled. "Longer than I thought. Seventeen years and as sour as ever." He nudged me in the ribs. "Does he still complain like a grumpy old woman when he wakes up?" he asked.
"Yes," I giggled.
"I could never get a positive word out of him until midnight. I had to share a coffin with him once for four whole months." He shivered at the memory. "Longest four months of my life."
"You shared a coffin?" I asked in awe.
"Had to," he said. "We were being hunted. We had to stick together. I wouldn't do it again, though. I'd rather face the sun and burn."
"You were not the only one with cause for complaint." Mr. Crepsley grunted. "Your snoring nearly drove me to face the sun myself." His lips were twitching, and I could tell he was having a hard time not smiling.
"Why were you being hunted?" I asked.
"Never mind," Mr. Crepsley snapped before Gavner could answer, then glared at his ex-partner.
Gavner made a face. "It was nearly sixty years ago, Larten," he said. "I didn't realize it was classified information."
"The boy is not interested in the past," Mr. Crepsley said firmly. (I most certainly was!) "You are on my soil, Gavner Purl. I would ask you to respect my wishes."
"Stuffy old bat," Gavner grumbled, but he gave in with a nod of his head. "So, Darren," he said, "what do you do at the Cirque Du Freak?"
"Odd jobs," I told him. "I gather food for the Little People and help the performers get ready for -?
"The Little People still travel with the Cirque?" Gavner interrupted.
"More of them than ever," Mr. Crepsley answered. "There are twenty with us at the moment."
The vampires shared a knowing glance but said no more about it. I could tell Gavner was troubled by the way his scars knit together into a fierce-looking frown.
"How goes it with the Generals?" Mr. Crepsley enquired.
"Usual old routine," Gavner said.
"Gavner is a Vampire General," Mr. Crepsley told me. That sparked my interest. I'd heard of the Vampire Generals, but nobody had told me exactly who or what they were.
"Excuse me," I said, "but what's a Vampire General? What do they do?"