Page 21 of The Vampire Always Rises
“Whatwhat?” He frowned at me.
“Did you say something?”
“Not right before you spoke, no.” Merrick started the car again, and swung out onto the road without another word.
“Where are we going?” I asked, wondering if I should be worried, and then being concerned because I wasn’t the least bit disconcerted by the fact that he was taking me away from Cousin Carlo’s villa.
Shouldn’t I be bothered? I was hurt because he didn’t remember me, but shouldn’t I be worried that he was a deranged ax-murdering rapist vampire with a fetish for Americans, even if C. J. Dante knew him? Surely wisdom decreed I should not be feeling calm and collected in this situation.
Why not?came the question on that same sort of odd wafting breeze of thought.
“OK, now you did talk,” I said, snapping the seat belt into place before poking him on the arm.
“I did not.”
“Don’t try to make me think I’m the odd one in this car, because you’re winning not only the tiara but the cape and bouquet when it comes to that.”
He sighed a martyred sigh and muttered something under his breath in a language I didn’t know.
“And now you’re saying things about me in a language I don’t speak, which is all shades of rude.” I crossed my arms and looked out of the window at the passing night. “I would never speak behind the back of someone I kidnapped.”
“I apologize. Next time, I will abuse you to your face.”
“Thank you,” I said, giving him a smile that I didn’t wholly feel he deserved, but it’s always better to give people the benefit of the doubt.
He cast me a quick startled glance before focusing on the road. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Wouldn’t you rather know what’s being said about you than having people hide it?”
Sometimes, it’s best not to know.
“Oh, I don’t buy that at all,” I told him, watching with interest as we joined a highway that led south and east.
“You don’t buy what?”
“That it’s best not to know.”
He slammed on the brakes, causing the car to fishtail wildly for a couple of seconds. At the same time, he rammed his arm across my torso, keeping me from snapping myself painfully against the seat belt.
“What on earth?” I gasped, the air having been knocked out of my lungs with the movement.
He pulled off the road, and turned to look at me, flipping on the interior light again. “What did you say?”
“I said ‘what on earth,’ as in what on earth do you think you’re doing?” I touched my neck where the seat belt had rubbed. “Man alive, Merrick! Could you warn me when you’re going to do that again?”
I will, if you promise to answer a question.
“What question?”
He was silent, watching me with an intensity that I found equal parts exciting and worrisome.
You ought to be worried.
“I don’t see why ... hey. Your lips didn’t move when you said that. Are you a ventriloquist?”
“No.”
“How did you do that, then?”
