After a cozy dinner alone with Captain Bob, I ducked into the bathroom, waited until the ghost was momentarily distracted, then snuck off to my cabin to Change. I usually run as a dog to avoid arousing fear, loathing, and wildlife control officers, but this time I went with a classic wolf. It’s good for all seasons, it’s slimming, and I’d be able to blend in with the other wolves.
That was the plan, anyway. Except that when I joined the wolves frolicking on the front lawn, it took about three minutes for the captain to figure out which wolf was me—I wasn’t sure if it was a ghostly talent or if another wolf squealed. Either way, as soon as he latched on to me, the other wolves found other places to be.
I ran into the forest as fast as I could, but Captain Bob had no problem keeping up, and when I ducked between trees and through underbrush, he went through it all as if it weren’t there. Or as if he weren’t there. Basically he sucked the fun out of the run, so after a frustrating hour, I decided it was time to give up.
Since the last thing I wanted was to lead him to my cabin, I doubled back twice and shifted forms three times to be reasonably sure I was safe. Once I was again among the two-legged and dressed I called David, and tried to convince both of us that I was having a good time.
After I hung up the phone, I tried to decide if I should go to bed and skip the buffet, go to the buffet and eat so much food that there wouldn’t be enough to go around, or just pack up and go home. I hadn’t made up my mind when there was a knock on the door. At first I was afraid it was Captain Bob, but I then remembered that he couldn’t touch anything and opened the door to find Dr. Hogencamp.
“Hi.”
“Joyce, isn’t it? I don’t know if you remember me from today’s presentations, but—”
“It’s not a session I’m likely to forget.”
“I suppose not. If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to you.”
“Sure, come on in.”
This was the closest I’d been to the woman. She had a sturdy build and tight gray curls, and she was wearing glasses, which was unusual for a werewolf. The Change cleaned up a lot of health issues, which is part of why we live so much longer than humans. Now that I noticed it, she didn’t smell like a werewolf, either.
“Dr. Hogencamp—”
“Call me Angie.”
“I’m probably being inexcusably rude, Angie, but I don’t know the proper way to ask this. What are you?”
“Just human.”
“Isn’t that against the rules?” One of the first things that had been impressed upon me when I was Changed was the importance of keeping the existence of werewolves secret. American society was still coming to terms with gays and lesbians—throwing werewolves into the mix would have been a bad idea.
“I’m in a unique position. My husband, Carl, and I were bitten by a rogue, just as you were, and the local pack found us and told us about werewolves and the other supernatural beings. But only Carl Changed. We didn’t understand why and that led us to discover the arcane gene. We found that Carl had an incomplete penetrant.”
“That sounds painful.”
“An incomplete penetrant of the arcane gene. He barely survived the Change.”
“What about you?”
“I don’t have the gene at all. Still, I can continue the research, even now that Carl has passed away.”
I wasn’t sure how long he’d been gone, so didn’t know if I should express sympathy or not, so I went with a noncommittal nod.
“I imagine you noticed that in my discussion of the arcane gene, I didn’t mention vampires.”
I hadn’t, actually—I’d been too busy wondering if I could use an electric fan to try to blow Captain Bob away.
“The fact is,” Angie said, “I don’t know much about vampires. Nobody does, except presumably other vampires.”
“You could ask Captain Bob. He seems to know it all.”
“I’m sorry about that. I had no idea he would take your living arrangements so personally.” She did look honestly embarrassed. “I consider your relationship with a vampire a valuable opportunity. I’ve studied werewolves, and have spent considerable time with witches and ghosts, but I’ve been unable to make any kind of connection with a vampire. I was wondering if you could tell me about your experiences.”
“I guess. What do you want to know?”
“I’m most interested in reproduction.”
“When a Mama vampire loves a Daddy vampire very much . . .”
Angie blinked.
“Just kidding,” I said. “I assume you mean how to create another vampire, not vampire sex.”
Again she blinked. Apparently she was also missing the sense of humor gene.
“Basically, the vampire drains the human almost to death before allowing the human to suck on him. His blood, that is. The human then dies, but after three days, rises as a baby vampire.”
“Very much according to legend,” Angie said. “Do you mind if I take notes?”
When I shook my head, she pulled paper and pen out of her shoulder bag and scribbled intently. “How does the vampire choose the human who will become his offspring?”
“I really couldn’t say. The relationship is pretty intense, like a marriage or a parent-child relationship. Even when they go their separate ways, there’s always a connection.”
“I assume the human has to have the arcane gene.”
“I don’t know. From what David has said, vampires can bring over anybody they choose. He thought it was odd that werewolves can’t.”
“But surely the gene is required,” Angie said, more to herself than to me. “What about the vampire’s nutritional needs? How often does he need to feed? How does he approach his food sources?”
That was the start of a supremely aggravating hour. Angie wanted to know how much David drank at a sitting, whether he preferred a given blood type, how long he slept, whether he was affected by silver, if garlic bothered him, if he could see himself in mirrors . . . All the old vampire tropes and a bunch that were just silly. Sparkles? Really?
The worst part was that I didn’t know half of what she wanted to know. David and I had never focused on our biological details, other than recreational ones.
Finally Angie shut her notebook, clearly not satisfied. “I really need to talk to a vampire myself. Could you ask your boyfriend if he’d meet with me? Do you two live nearby? I could go home with you after the seminar.”
“I’ll ask, but I can’t guarantee anything. He’s a private kind of guy.”
“This is for science!”
Since David predated most of what we knew about science, I really didn’t think that would be a compelling argument to use on him.
There was another knock on the door, and I jumped again. “Ghosts don’t knock, right?”
“Captain Bob can’t,” Angie assured me.
“Excellent.” I pulled open the door and there stood the best-looking man I’ve ever seen. Tall, incredibly well-built, piercing blue eyes, with gorgeous red hair pulled back in a short ponytail. In other words, it was Pirate Dave, and there was only one appropriate way to greet him.
“What in the hell are you doing here? I wasn’t even supposed to tell anybody where it is because it’s only for werewolves. And Captain Bob and Angie, but they’re invited! I am going to get in so much trouble.”
In response, he took me in his arms and made me forget the seminar for a good five minutes. A very good five minutes. We might have gone for half an hour if Angie hadn’t cleared her throat.
“Oh, sorry.” I waved David inside the cabin and said, “David, this is Dr. Angie Hogencamp. She’s been researching supernaturals, and spoke at the seminar early today. Angie, this is David Freeman, the owner of Pirate Dave’s Adventure Cove.”