He claimed he loved us, but he went ahead and started to pull the stake.
He was asleep, for godsake!
But what if I hadn’t been up there?
The girl is dead, Lane told herself. She’s dead. She’s not a vampire. She wouldn’t have come back to life. That’s bullshit, and Dad knows it.
That’s the end of it.
But maybe...
She started to recite an “Our Father,” softly mumbling the words. To stop herself from thinking. To calm herself down. She did another “Our Father,” not speaking this time, going through it in her mind. And then another.
A gentle rapping on the door woke her up. She rolled onto her back as the door eased open. Dad looked in. “Are Pete and Barbara here?” she asked.
“Not yet. But you have a visitor.”
“Was she asleep?” came a voice from the hallway behind Dad.
Lane lost her breath.
“She’s awake now,” Dad said.
“Really,” Kramer said, “there was no need to disturb her.”
“That’s all right,” Dad said over his shoulder as he entered the room. “It was time to get her up, anyway. We’re having some other guests pretty soon.” He gestured for Kramer to come in.
“Daaaad.”
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m in bed.”
“If she’d rather...”
“It’s fine. She’s just doing her shy routine.”
Kramer came into the room.
Lane tried to force herself to smile.
Kramer’s smile looked tentative and concerned. “I just dropped by to see how you were doing. I hope you didn’t catch a bug, or something, while we were at the play Saturday night.”
Wasn’t a bug, she thought.
He stepped around Dad and approached the bed. He had a manila folder in one hand. Like the one in which Dad kept his pictures of Bonnie. “Just in case you might be down for a while,” he said, “I thought I’d bring you this week’s assignments.”
“Thank you,” she muttered.
“That’s very nice of you, Hal,” Dad told him.
Kramer smiled back at him. “Wouldn’t want my ace student to fall behind.” He set the folder down on her nightstand. “How are you feeling?” he asked her.
“Not very swift.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you think you’ll be up and around?..”
Far away, the telephone rang.
“I’d better get that,” Dad said. “Jean’s taking a bath.”
He left the room.
Kramer sat on the edge of the bed and smiled down at her. “Obviously, you’ve kept our little secret.”
She nodded. She didn’t think she
“That’s very good, darling. But I’m not happy about you staying home today. I missed you.” He slipped a hand beneath the covers. Staring into her eyes, he gently squeezed her right breast. “You missed me, too, didn’t you?”
Lane gasped for breath. She shuddered.
Kramer laughed softly. He glanced toward the open door, then fixed his gaze on her face and moved his hand down the front of her nightshirt.
She choked out, “Don’t.”
“Shhhh. I’ve got a sharp friend in my pocket.” His hand found her bare skin below the rumpled jersey. Lane pressed her legs together. But his hand pressed between them. She started to whimper. “I could easily slash your throat in an instant. And then do the same to your father. And your mother. She’s taking a bath. That might be fun.”
Kramer took his hand away.
“See you later,” he said. He went out to the hallway and shut the door.
Forty-five
After hanging up the kitchen phone, Larry went into the living room and found Hal in front of the bookshelves, looking at the collection of his works.
“You’ve got quite an output,” Hal said.
“Seventeen novels, so far.”
“That’s fantastic.”
“Well, things have been going okay. I’m not as successful as I’d like to be, but who is?”
“What are you working on now? Or is that a secret?”
“No big secret, I guess. Would you like a drink?”
“Oh, I don’t want to impose. I just came by to check on Lane and...”
“You don’t have to rush off. I was about to fix myself a vodka tonic. What can I get you?”
“Sounds good to me,” Hal said, and followed him into the kitchen.
“That was a friend who called,” Larry said as he started to prepare the drinks. “Another writer. Quite a coincidence. He’s putting together an anthology of vampire stories, and asked me to contribute.”
“Well, congratulations.”
“Thanks. It’s nice to be at the point where they’re
“Must be very gratifying. You mentioned something about a coincidence?”
“Oh, yeah. Pretty weird. He wants a vampire story, and I’ve been up to my neck in vampire stuff for the past few weeks.”
“So, you’re working on a vampire novel?”
“Not exactly.” He handed a cocktail to Hal, picked up his own and led the way back to the living room. He sank into his easy chair. Hal sat across from him at the end of the sofa. “Here’s how,” he said.
They drank. Hal smiled and said, “Hits the spot.”
“I’m doing a book about vampires, but it’s not a novel. Nonfiction.”
“A study of some kind?”
“Actually, it deals with personal experiences.”
