"I don't mind about the snow," I said under my breath.
"Yes, of course. Well, I'll be sure to leave you quite a few winter garments," he said in the same conciliatory manner.
"None of those details matter," I said. What a fool he was to think that they did. I could feel my heart skipping beats.
"Oh, I don't know about that," he said. "When you're human you might find that a lot of things matter."
To you, perhaps, I thought. All that matters to me is to be in that body, and to be alive. In my mind's eye, I saw the snow of that last winter in the Auvergne. I saw the sun spilling down on the mountains... I saw the little priest from the village church, shivering in the great hall as he complained to me about the wolves coming down into the village at night. Of course I would hunt down the wolves. It was my duty.
I didn't care whether he'd read these thoughts or not.
"Ah, but don't you want to taste good food? Don't you want to drink good wine? What about a woman, or a man, for that matter? You'll need money and pleasant accommodations, of course."
I didn't reply. I saw the sun on the snow. I let my eyes move slowly to his face. I thought how curiously graceful he seemed in this new mode of persuasiveness, how very like David, indeed.
He was about to go on with his talk of luxuries when I gestured for silence.
"All right," I said. "I think you'll see me on Wednesday. Shall we say an hour after dark? Oh, and I must warn you. This fortune often million dollars. It will only be available to you for two hours on Friday morning. You'll have to appear in person to claim it." And here I touched his shoulder lightly. "This person, of course."
"Of course. I'm looking forward to it."
"And you'll need a code word to complete the transaction. And you'll only learn the code word from me when you return my body as agreed."
"No. No code words. The transfer of funds must be complete and irrevocable before the bank closes on Wednesday afternoon. All I have to do the following Friday is appear before the representative, allow him to take my fingerprint if you insist upon it, and then he will sign the money over to me."
I was quiet, thinking it over.
"After all, my handsome friend," he said, "what if you don't like your day as a human being? What if you don't feel you've gotten your money's worth?" •
"I'll get my money's worth," I whispered, more to myself than to him.
"No," he said patiently but insistently. "No code words."
I studied him. He smiled at me, and he appeared almost innocent and truly young. Good Lord, it must have meant something to him, this youthful vigor. How could it not have dazzled him, at least for a while? In the beginning, perhaps, he must have thought he'd attained everything that he could ever want.
"Not by a long shot!" he said suddenly, as if he couldn't stop the words from slipping out of his mouth.
I couldn't help but laugh.
"Let me tell you a little secret about youth," he said with sudden coldness. "Bernard Shaw said it was wasted on the young, you remember that clever overrated little remark?"
"Yes."
"Well, it isn't. The young know how difficult and truly dreadful youth can be. Their youth is wasted on everyone else, that's the horror. The young have no authority, no respect."
"You're mad," I said. "I don't think you use what you steal very well. How could you not thrill to the sheer stamina? Glory in the beauty you see reflected in the eyes of those who look at you everywhere you go?"
He shook his head. "That's for you to enjoy," he said. "The body's young the way you've always been young. You will thrill to the stamina of it, as you say. You will glory in all those loving looks." He broke off. He took the final sip of his coffee and stared into the cup,
"No code words," he said politely.
"Very well."
"Ah, good," he said with a full warm smile of amazing brightness. "Remember I offered you a week for this sum," he said. "It's your decision to take one full day. Perhaps after you've had a taste you'll want a much longer time."
"Perhaps so," I said. Again, I was distracted by the sight of him, by the sight of the large warm hand which he covered now with the glove.
"And another switch will cost you another handsome sum," he said merrily, all smiles now, as he arranged his scarf within his lapels.
"Yes, of course."
"Money really doesn't mean anything to you, does it?" he asked, thoughtfully.
"Nothing at all." How tragic for you, I thought, that it means so much.
"Well, perhaps I should take my leave now, and allow you to make your preparations. I shall see you Wednesday as planned."
"Don't try to run out on me," I said in a low voice, leaning forward slightly, and then lifting my hand and touching his face.
The gesture clearly startled him; he became motionless, like an animal in the wood who suddenly sensed danger where there had been none before. But his expression remained calm, and I let my fingers rest against his smoothly shaven skin.
Then I moved them down slowly, feeling the firmness of his jawbone, and then I placed my hand on his neck. Here, too, the razor had passed, leaving its faint dark shadow; the skin was firm, surprisingly muscular, and a clean, youthful scent rose from it as I saw the sweat break out on his forehead, as I saw his lips move in a surprisingly graceful smile.
"Surely you enjoyed being young just a little," I said under my breath.
He smiled, as if he knew just how radiant and seductive the smile could be.
"I dream the dreams of the young," he said. "And they are always dreams of being older, and richer, and wiser, and stronger, don't you think?"
I gave a little laugh.
"I'll be there Wednesday night," he said with the same silver-tongued sincerity. "You can be certain of it. Come. It will happen, I promise you." He leant forward and whispered. "You will be inside this body!" And once again, he smiled in the most charming and ingratiating fashion. "You'll see."
"I want you to leave New Orleans now."
"Ah, yes, immediately," he said. And without another word, he stood up, moving back away from me, and then tried to conceal his sudden fear. "I have my ticket already," he said. "I don't like your filthy little Caribbean backwater." He made a little self- deprecating laugh, an almost pretty laugh. Then he went on as if he were a wise teacher scolding a student. "We'll talk more when you come to Georgetown. And don't try to spy on me in the meantime. I'll know it if you do. I'm too good at picking up that sort of thing. Even the Talamasca was amazed at my powers. They should have kept me in the fold! They should have studied me!" He broke off.
"I'll spy on you anyway," I said, echoing his low key and careful tone. "I don't really care whether or not you know."
He laughed again, in a low, subdued, and slightly smoldering fashion, and then gave me a little nod and rushed towards the door. He was once again the awkward, ungainly being, full of crazed excitement. And how tragic it seemed, for surely that body could move like a panther with another soul inside.
I caught him on the sidewalk, startling him, indeed scaring him half out of his powerful little psychic mind. We were almost eye-to-eye.
"What do you want to do with my body?" I asked. "I mean, besides flee from the sun every morning as if you were a nocturnal insect or a giant slug?"
"What do you think?" he said, once again playing the charming English gentleman with utter sincerity. "I want to drink blood." His eyes grew very wide, and he leaned closer. "I want to take life when I drink it. That's the point, isn't it? It's not merely the blood you steal from them, it's their lives. I've never stolen anything that valuable from anyone." He gave me a knowing smile. "The body, yes, but not the blood and the life."