Free Thirst No. 2 by Christopher Pike Page B

alive."
    "Barely."
    "Find someone you don't like. A criminal, a rapist—you used to specialize in them if I remember correctly."
    I turn on him. "I may not be able to handle a criminal or rapist nowadays, or does that concern you, my love?"
    He shrugs. "Take your pistol. It has a silencer on it. Just get someone you're not going to go to pieces over every time you have to take blood."
    I speak with thinly disguised bitterness. "You didn't answer my question, my love. But I suppose that is answer enough. You know I enjoy this little family we have here. A gorgeous daughter who is a medical and historical first, and a supposedly loving boyfriend who has forgotten what the words friend and love mean. I mean, you've got to admit, five thousand years of intense experience has really helped me create the perfect domestic environment. Wouldn't you agree?"
    He is unimpressed by my outburst. "You create what you want You always have. If you don't like it, you can always leave."
    I snort. "Leave you with Kalika! She would starve in a day."
    "I doubt that Kalika will need either of us soon. She's not a normal child, you know." He adds, "Not like Paula's child will be."
    I stop. "Why did you say that?"
    He ignores me. "When is her baby due exactly? Soon?"
    I frown. Why were they both dropping remarks about Paula? "She's not having a baby

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    anymore," I say carefully. "She lost it."
    He waves his hand. "Yeah, right, she got kicked by a donkey."
    A donkey, I think. "Yeah, that is right." I turn away. "Seymour was right about you."
    Ray is instantly alert. "You spoke to him. When did you speak to him?"
    I reach for my black boots. "None of your business."
    "What did he say about me?"
    I glare at him. "He said that Eddie Fender's blood has warped your mind. He told me not to trust you, which was probably good advice."
    Ray relaxes. "Good old Seymour. Did you invite him down for a pleasant evening of food and conversation?"
    I have my boots on and stalk out the door. "He is not interested in our problems," I lie.
    "He has better things to do with his time."
    But Ray's final remark makes me pause outside the door.
    "I hope you didn't tell him about Kalika. I really hope you didn't."
    I glance over my shoulder. "Of course not. He would never have believed me if I had."
    Ray just nods and smiles.

13

    Kalika drives with me to a club in Hollywood. It is one in the morning but the place is still hopping. What I'm supposed to do with my daughter, I'm not sure. It is she who suggests she hide under a blanket in the backseat until I bring out whoever it is who is to be our next barrel of blood. As she crawls under the blanket, she peers up at me with her serious dark blue eyes.
    "You'll be warm enough?" I ask.
    "I am never cold," she says.
    "If you want, you can sleep. Just don't make any noise when I return to the car. I'll take care of everything." I glance at the crowded parking lot. "But I won't be able to knock him out here."
    "Take him to a secluded place," Kalika says. "I will help you."
    "I told you, I don't want your help."
    Kalika does the unexpected then. She reaches up and kisses me on the lips. "Be careful, Mother. You are not who you used to be."
    Her kiss warms me, her words give me a chill. "You know what I used to be?"
    "Yes. He told me."
    "Ray?"
    "Yes."
    "How come you never call him Father?"
    "You call him Ray. I call him Ray."
    "But he calls me Sita."
    "Do you want me to call you Sita?"
    "No, it doesn't matter." I pause. "Do you like Ray?"
    She shrugs. "How I feel—I can't explain to you at this time."
    "Why not?"

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    "You are not ready to hear."
    "When will I be ready to hear?"
    "Soon."
    "You know this?"
    She pulls the blanket over her head. "I know many things, Mother."
    The music is loud as I enter the club, the strobe lights flashing,