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"The Chrism? That,s what you call it?" asked Reuben.

"Yes, the Chrism - that,s what we,ve called it for ages. The gift, the power - there are a hundred ancient words for it - what does it matter?"

" ,We,?" asked Reuben. "You said ,we., How many are there of creatures like us?"

"Oh, I know you,re burning with curiosity for what I might tell you," said the creature with subtle contempt. His voice went on with a maddening restraint. "I remember that curiosity more clearly than I remember anything else. But why should I tell you anything - when I can,t let you live? Am I indulging myself now, or you? It,s easier for me to be kind as I kill you, believe me. It,s not my intent to make either of you suffer. Not at all."

It was grotesque, the cultured, polished voice coming from such a bestial face. And so this is how I look to them, Reuben thought - just this hideous and monstrous.

"You,ll let the woman go now," said Reuben. "She can take my car. She can get clear of this place - ."

"No, I will not let the woman go, now or ever," said the beast. He went on with perfect equanimity. "You sealed the woman,s fate, not I, when you gave her the secret of who and what you are."

"I don,t know the secret of who and what I am," Reuben said. He was buying time. He was calculating. How do I best attack him? Where is he most vulnerable? Is he vulnerable at all! He took a step closer to the beast, and to his surprise the beast reflexively stepped back.

"None of it matters now, does it?" asked the beast. "That,s the horror."

"It matters to me," said Reuben.

What a macabre spectacle this must make for Laura, two such monsters sparring with words. Reuben took another step and the beast again gave ground.

"You,re young, hungry for life," said the beast, words coming just a little more rapidly, "hungry for power too."

"We,re all of us hungry for life," said Reuben. He kept his voice low. "That is what life demands of us. If we aren,t hungry for life, we don,t deserve to live."

"Oh, but you,re especially hungry, aren,t you?" said the beast spitefully. "Believe me, it gives me no pleasure to execute one so strong." His small dark eyes flashed malevolently in the light of the fire.

"And if you don,t execute me, what happens then?"

"I,m held accountable for you, for your prodigious achievements," he said contemptuously, "which have all the world clamoring to take you captive, cage you, narcotize you, laboratize you, and put you under the glass."

Again, Reuben advanced, but the creature stood firm, raising one paw as if to fend Reuben off, a weak defensive gesture. How many other small cues was Reuben receiving?

"I did what seemed natural for me to do," said Reuben. "I heard the voices; the voices called me; I caught the scent of evil and I tracked it. It was as natural as breathing to do what I did."

"Oh, believe me," said the other thoughtfully. "I am deeply impressed. You cannot imagine how many stumble, sicken, die in the first few weeks. It,s so unpredictable. All aspects of it are unpredictable. No one can conceivably know what will happen when the Chrism hits the pluripotent progenitor cells."

"Explain this to me," said Reuben under his breath. "What is the Chrism?" He pressed closer, and the creature again stepped back, as if he couldn,t stop himself. His thighs were still flexed, and his arms were slightly curved at his sides.

"No," said the beast coldly. "If only you,d been a little more reticent, a little more wise."

"Oh, so I,m to blame for this, am I?" Reuben asked calmly. Again, he edged closer and the beast took two steps back. He was close to the paneled wall. "And where were you when the Chrism began to work? Where were you to guide me or advise me, to warn me what I might expect?"

"Long gone," said the beast with the first touch of real impatience. "Your truly fabulous exploits caught up with me halfway around the world. And now you will die for them. Were they worth it? Do tell me. Has this been the pinnacle of your existence so far?"

Reuben said nothing. It was now, he thought, now that he should strike.

But the beast spoke again. "Don,t think it doesn,t rip at my heart," he said, baring his fangs as if in an ugly smile. "Had I chosen you for the Chrism, you would have been magnificent, the finest of Morphenkinder, but I did not choose you. You,re no Morphenkind." It was the German word for "child," the way he said it, pronounced as if it were spelled kint. "You,re odious, loathsome, an offense, that,s what you are!" His voice was angry, but steady. "I would never have chosen you, never even noticed you. Now all the world notices you. Well, this will end now."

Now he,s the one playing for time, Reuben thought. Why? Does he know he can,t win this?

"Who put you to guard this house?" said Reuben.

"One who won,t tolerate what,s happened," he said. "Not here of all places, not here." He sighed. "And you, you contemptible boy, having your way with Marchent, his precious Marchent, and Marchent dead." His eyes quivered and again he bared his teeth and his fangs without a sound.

"Who is he? How is he connected to Marchent?"

"You were the cause of her death," said the creature in a small voice. A low rolling growl escaped him. "I turned my back because of you, not to spy on you and Marchent - you and your antics - and in that interval death came to Marchent! It was all you! Well, you will not remain while I draw breath."

This infuriated Reuben, but he pressed on.

"Felix Nideck? Is that who told you to guard the house?"

The beast tensed, drew up his shoulders, and crooked his arms. Again, that rolling growl came out of him.

"You think these questions advance your case?" the creature snarled. A gnashing contemptuous sound came out of him, fully as eloquent as his words. "I,m done with you!" he roared.

Reuben rushed at him, claws out. He slammed the beast,s head into the dark paneling, and lunged for the beast,s throat.

In snarling outrage, the monster kicked at Reuben and drove frantically against Reuben,s face with his powerful paws. He held off Reuben with an iron strength.

Reuben yanked him forward by the hair of his mane and then hurled him against the stone mantel and the beast let out a strangled roar. He raked at Reuben,s arms with his fierce claws, and then brought up his knee and kicked Reuben again, this time in the lower gut, with tremendous force.

The wind went out of Reuben. He staggered backwards. Everything went dark. He felt the creature clutching his neck, the claws digging deeply into the fur trying to find the toughened flesh, the hot breath on his face.


Tags: Anne Rice The Wolf Gift Chronicles Horror