"David. You shock me. What an impolite question. "
"Will you?" he asked more timidly, more imploringly.
"I don't think so. I just want to. . . . " I smiled. He knew now well enough. Nobody had to tell him anymore about drinking the blood, the soul, the memory, the spirit, the heart. I wouldn't know that wretched mortal creature until I took him, held him against my chest, opened up the only honest vein in his body, so to speak. Ah, too many thoughts, too many memories, too much anger.
"I'm going to stay with you," he said. "Do you have rooms here?"
"Nothing proper. Find something for us. Find it close to . . . close to the cathedral. "
"Why?"
"Well, David, you should know why. If the Devil starts chasing me down Fifth Avenue, I'll just run into St. Patrick's and run to the High Altar and fall on my knees before the Blessed Sacrament and beg God to forgive me, not to sink me into the river of fire up to my eyes. "
"You are on the verge of being truly mad. "
"No, not at all. Look at me. I can tie my shoelaces. See? And my tie. Takes some care, you know, to get it all around your neck and into your shirt and so forth, and not look like a lunatic with a big scarf around your neck. I'm together, as mortals so bluntly state it. Can you find us some rooms?"
He nodded.
"There's a glass tower, right over there somewhere, beside the cathedral. Monstrous building. "
&
nbsp; "The Olympic Tower. "
"Yes, could you get us some rooms there? Actually I have mortal agents who can do this sort of thing, I don't know why in the world I'm whining like a fool in this place, asking you to take care of humiliating particulars. . . . "
"I'll take care of it. It's probably too late tonight, but I can swing it tomorrow evening. It will be under the name David Talbot. "
"My clothes. There's a stash of them here under the name Isaac Rummel. Just a suitcase or two, and some coats. It's really winter, isn't it?" I gave him the key to the room. This was humiliating. Rather like making a servant of him. Perhaps he'd change his mind and put our new lodgings under the name of Renfield.
"I'll take care of it all. We'll have a palatial base of operations by tomorrow. I'll see that keys are left for you at the desk. But what are you going to be doing?"
I waited, I was listening for the Victim. Still talking to Dora. Dora was leaving in the morning.
I pointed upwards. "Killing that bastard. I think I'll do it tomorrow right after sunset if I can zone in on him quickly enough. Dora will be gone. Oh, I am so hungry. I wish she'd take a midnight plane out of here. Dora, Dora. "
"You really like this little girl, don't you?"
"Yes. Find her on television sometime, you'll see. Her talent's rather spectacular, and her teaching has that dangerous emotional grip to it. "
"Is she really gifted?"
"With everything. Very white skin, short black hair, bobbed, long thin yet shapely legs, and she dances with such abandon, arms flung out, rather makes one think of a whirling dervish or the Sufis in their perfection, and when she speaks it's not humble precisely, it's full of wonder and all very, very benign. "
"I should think so. "
"Well, religion isn't always, you know. I mean she doesn't rant about the coming Apocalypse or the Devil coming to get you if you don't send her a check. "
He reflected for a moment, then said meaningfully, "I see how it is. "
"No, you don't. I love her, yes, but I'll soon forget her completely. It's just that. . . well, there's a convincing version of something there, and delicacy, and she really believes in it; she thinks Jesus walked on this earth. She thinks it happened. "
"And this thing that's following you, it's not connected in any way with this choice of victim, her father?"
"Well, there is a way to find out," I said.
"How?"