Real Vampires 09 Know Hips Happen by Gerry Bartlett

Author:Gerry Bartlett [Bartlett, Gerry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2013-03-05T00:00:00+00:00

Eleven

Upstairs, Jerry roamed my tiny two bedroom apartment while I found bottles of synthetic blood and poured them into glasses.

“This is all the room you’ve got?” He settled onto the couch. It was fairly new and I’d bought it secondhand. At least I’d had it steam cleaned and it was comfortable. Compared to Campbell Castle and Jerry’s own large house, where Lily no doubt pouted, it was a dump.

“It’s enough for me. I usually have a roommate. If the shop has a slump, it’s hard for me to make the rent on both it and this place. Luckily the business is doing pretty well now, though I need to get down there soon and take a look at the books.” I handed him the glass. “It’s cold. I can heat it if you’d like.” In Scotland they’d served everything room temperature. I kept my synthetic in the fridge, a habit left over from when I’d lived in hot Las Vegas.

He took a cautious sip. “No, this is fine.”

I put a hand on his arm before he could drink more. “Wait. We need to discuss something.” I pulled the vial from between my breasts.

“What’s that?” Jerry reached for it and held the container to the light. “Strange color.”

“Almost a neon green.” He gave me a quizzical look. “Means it looks like it could glow in the dark. Anyway, my mother gave it to me. Claims some sorcerer she knows told her it might help bring your memories back.” I sighed. “I’m afraid of it. You know what her last potion did.”

“Am I supposed to drink it?” Jerry looked excited, obviously desperate enough to try anything.

“She suggested we put it into your next meal. That would be the synthetic I just handed you.” I wanted to grab it back. “Don’t drink it! I’m scared of what it might do. The last thing she tried, the memory-loss potion, was supposed to wear off. She told me that. Because you were vampire, it didn’t. Now she’s got this. Again, you’re vampire. Who knows how you’ll react?”

“But could it be much worse than not remembering what century I’m in, Gloriana? Who you are?” He pulled the tiny cork out of the vial.

“You know who I am now, Jer. There are just gaps—”

“Gaps? Holy hell, woman!” He jumped up, but not before he dumped the contents of the vial into his glass. “I know what I was like when I rode a horse named Thunder, a beast who’s been dead for centuries. I call myself Jeremiah Campbell, not Jeremy Blade, a man who must have secrets, maybe shameful ones. I have to know what the hell I’ve been up to all this time.” He began to drink, fast. I watched his throat move as he downed the liquid in enormous gulps. When the glass was drained, he looked it over, I guess to make sure he hadn’t left anything, then flung it crashing into the wall, where it shattered.

“Fuck those gaps! I want my mind back and I’ll do anything, anything, to get it.

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