Copyright 1996 by Anne Fraser and M.J. Gardner

Chapter Five

Getting up and going out of Adrian's door was only for the sake of form. It was hard not to act like a human being sometimes. Before it even closed behind her Evelyn popped back to her hotel room.

She had taken a suite at the Comfort Inn because it was close to the subway and downtown. As soon as she saw the Royal York she had wanted a room there, but they were all booked up for at least a week. Conventions and politicians and such.

In her room at the Comfort she had pulled down the brittle yellow shade and taped heavy gauge tin foil over the windows. She had specifically asked for a room without a balcony -- it took so much time and foil, and she was afraid it would tear or that the duct tape seams would let go in the heat of the sun.

Because of this the maid had not been allowed in for a week.

Shopping bags were piled on the round table, in one of the chairs, and on the floor. Her suitcase was open atop the low dresser, and clothes were piled randomly on it and half out of it; she hadn't used the dresser drawers. That seemed too much like "making herself at home."

A few things did hang on hangers. Mostly because they'd come from the shop that way, swathed in plastic or zippered into garment bags.

Evelyn started digging through the bags, pulling out outfits, underwear, discarding the bulky shapes of carefully packed and boxed objets d'art. She didn't even remember what she'd bought a week ago. Did it matter? She had the means to buy on impulse now that her inheritance had come through.

Finally she realized that the right outfit, the perfect outfit, was hanging up in a black zippered bag from Danier's. She pulled the zipper down wrestled the bag off the hanger.

It was a halter and miniskirt, with princess seams, no waist band, in tawny colored suede that was so soft it felt like baby powder. It invited you to touch it. It had invited Evelyn to touch, and she'd ended up paying $725 for it, Canadian, plus tax.

When it was on, the T-shirt and shorts she'd been wearing in a heap on the floor, Evelyn looked herself over in the mirror. She sucked in her stomach and undulated like a belly dancer. The skirt fit snugly and perfect around her waist and flared a little from her hips, ending a good two inches above her knee. Sexy, but not cheap. The halter she stuffed with push-up pads and studied the effect. No, Jake had seen her naked. He knew what size they were.

A bit overdressed for Coffee Time Doughnuts, but maybe she wouldn't be dressed that way for long. And maybe Professor Adrian Talbot would read about it in his bloodling's mind.

She finished her toilette off with a gold cartouche that she'd ordered from a shop on Queen Street. It hung down in the open V of the halter on a fine gold chain.

It was just after midnight when Evelyn paid the cabby in front of the doughnut shop. She wanted Jake to be there already so she could make an entrance. An outfit like this wasn't as impressive sitting down, legs tucked beneath a Formica tabletop.

Jake, however, was lost in his own thoughts, sipping hot coffee, and didn't notice her.

"Finish your paper?" she asked in her most seductive voice.

Jake started as if she'd zapped him. "Yeah. Whoa! That's a nice outfit."

She smiled sweetly and took a seat. "All that caffeine will keep you awake."

Jake shook his head. "Doesn't matter. I can't seem to sleep at night anymore anyway."

Evelyn looked around. The fluorescent lights were too harsh, too much like daylight. "This doesn't seem like a good place to talk."

"Nothing else open," said Jake. "You wanna walk?"

"Sure."

Jake led the way down College Street, seemingly still lost in thought. As the Red Rocket rumbled past on its rails, Evelyn slipped her hand into Jake's, startling him out of his thoughts.

"It's your turn," she reminded him.

"For what?" he asked, then grinned. "Oh, yeah. My story." He sighed and looked at the stretch of quiet university buildings all around them. "It's all because I like vampires," he said.

"I can tell," she chuckled.

No, no. I mean fictional vampires -- I'm writing a vampire novel. I saw a lecture being advertised on vampires and folklore, so I went. Guess who the lecturer was." He jerked his head in the general direction of the Annex to northwest.

"Your friend, the Vampire King of Toronto?"

Jake gave a pained look. "He didn't bully you, did he?"

"Not with any effect," she answered.

"You should be careful," Jake warned, "he really does have a temper."

Evelyn shrugged. She didn't want to talk about the annoying Adrian Talbot; she wanted to find out about Jake's experience.

"Well, anyway," continued Jake, "he liked my questions, and invited me for dinner to keep up the discussion. He wanted to know if I thought there were real vampires. I nearly left at that point, because back then, I thought...." He felt his face flush again.

"You thought we were myth, legend and imagination," Evelyn supplied for him. "That's what we want people to believe. Go on."

"Well, Adrian convinced me that this vampire named Safelli had killed his fiancee. He wanted to kill Safelli for revenge, and to stop him from bleeding anyone else. I ... I believed him, finally. He was damn convincing." A shrug. "I didn't know he was an actor then. Anyway, he and I and his little court--."

"His what?"

"His court. He didn't tell me that's what they were then, he just said they were his friends. I found out later they were vampires, all of Adrian's making."

"You didn't know Adrian was a vampire?"

"No. Are you kidding? We were out on a vampire hunt." Jake shook his head. "We went to Rosedale and Adrian challenged Safelli to a fight. He won. It wasn't pretty. That's when I found out that Adrian and his whole damned court were vampires. After the fight he needed blood and bit me."

He paused for such a long time that Evelyn thought the story was over. She stood looking at the historical plaque in front of the Banting and Best Institute, but the discoverers of insulin were far from her mind.

"There's got to be more, Jake," she said finally. "A bite doesn't transfer the blood, or there'd be a lot more of us around."

She winced as Jake balled his fists and thumped an innocent lamppost.

"He ... kissed me," he said finally, his words almost lost in the rattle of a passing streetcar. "There was ... blood on his lips. His, Safelli's, mine ... just a bit, but I must have swallowed it, and it's been working changes ever since. Slow, very slow at first -- I felt nothing for over a year. But lately it's been ... accelerating. That's how I became a bloodling." He turned to look at her and she could see that he was scared.

"Well, the two of us have done pretty well, haven't we? I was rushed into taking the blood on the basis of a snow job, and you got it unwanted and even unintentionally." Evelyn bit her lip. She felt for Jake. As much as she hated Simms, she really only had herself to blame. Jake hadn't asked for any of this. "So what is the Vampire King doing about it?"

"Doing about it?" repeated Jake. "Nothing. I'm not sure there's anything that can be done," he admitted grudgingly.

"Have you drunk blood yet?"

"No!" answered Jake in alarm. "I've gotten a taste for rare steaks, but..."

Evelyn laughed. "If you can still eat food you're still human at least."

Jake looked at the ground. "But I'm really not that hungry anymore. Just thirsty. Like when I met you last night at the punch bowl. And nothing really seems to slake it." He was staring into space lost in dark thoughts.

Evelyn realized that seduction was not the way to win Jake. If she really wanted to provoke Adrian, she had to make Jake her protege. Besides, Jake deserved better than an old faggot professor. And maybe he could help her with the problem of her unwanted house guest. After all, Jake could still stand the sunlight.

She laid her hand on his arm gently to bring him back to the present.

"I'm getting hungry. Is there someplace we can go for a bite?" she asked with a suggestive grin....