cpike.thelastvampire-第1部分

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　I　am　a　vampire；　and　that　is　the　truth。　But　the　modern　meaning　of　the　word　vampire；　the　stories　that　have　been　told　about　creatures　such　as　I；　are　not　precisely　true。　I　do　not　turn　to　ash　in　the　sun；　nor　do　I　cringe　when　I　see　a　crucifix。　I　wear　a　tiny　gold　cross　now　around　my　neck；　but　only　because　I　like　it。　I　cannot　mand　a　pack　of　wolves　to　attack　or　fly　through　the　air。　Nor　can　I　make　another　of　my　kind　simply　by　having　him　drink　my　blood。　Wolves　do　like　me；　though；　as　do　most　predators；　and　I　can　jump　so　high　that　one　might　imagine　I　can　fly。　As　to　blood…ah；　blood；　the　whole　subject　fascinates　me。　I　do　like　that　as　well；　warm　and　dripping；　when　I　am　thirsty。　And　I　am　often　thirsty。
　My　name；　at　present；　is　Alisa　Perne…just　two　words；　something　to　last　for　a　couple　of　decades。　I　am　no　more　attached　to　them　than　to　the　sound　of　the　wind。　My　hair　is　blond　and　silklike；　my　eyes　like　sapphires　that　have　stared　long　at　a　volcanic　fissure。　My　stature　is　slight　by　modem　standards；　five　two　in　sandals；　but　my　arms　and　legs　are　muscled；　although　not　unattractively　so。　Before　I　speak　I　appear　to　be　only　eighteen　years　of　age；　but　something　in　my　voice…the　coolness　of　my　expressions；　the　echo　of　endless　experience…makes　people　think　I　am　much　older。　But　even　I　seldom　think　about　when　I　was　born；　long　before　the　pyramids　were　erected　beneath　the　pale　moon。　I　was　there；　in　that　desert　in　those　days；　even　though　I　am　not　originally　from　that　part　of　the　world。
　Do　I　need　blood　to　survive？　Am　I　immortal？　After　all　this　time；　I　still　don't　know。　I　drink　blood　because　I　crave　it。　But　I　can　eat　normal　food　as　well；　and　digest　it。　I　need　food　as　much　as　any　other　man　or　woman。　I　am　a　living；　breathing　creature。　My　heart　beats…I　can　hear　it　now；　like　thunder　in　my　ears。　My　hearing　is　very　sensitive；　as　is　my　sight。　I　can　hear　a　dry　leaf　break　off　a　branch　a　mile　away；　and　I　can　clearly　see　the　craters　on　the　moon　without　a　telescope。　Both　senses　have　grown　more　acute　as　I　get　older。
　My　immune　system　is　impregnable；　my　regenerative　system　miraculous；　if　you　believe　in　miracles…　which　I　don't。　I　can　be　stabbed　in　the　arm　with　a　knife　and　heal　within　minutes　without　scarring。　But　if　I　were　to　be　stabbed　in　the　heart；　say　with　the　currently　fashionable　wooden　stake；　then　maybe　I　would　die。　It　is　difficult　for　even　a　vampire's　flesh　to　heal　around　an　implanted　blade。　But　it　is　not　something　I　have　experimented　with。
　But　who　would　stab　me？　Who　would　get　the　chance？　I　have　the　strength　of　five　men；　the　reflexes　of　the　mother　of　all　cats。　There　is　not　a　system　of　physical　attack　and　defense　of　which　I　am　not　a　master。　A　dozen　black　belts　could　corner　me　in　a　dark　alley；　and　I　could　make　a　dress　fit　for　a　vampire　out　of　the　sashes　that　hold　their　fighting　jackets　closed。　And　I　do　love　to　fight；　it　is　true；　almost　as　much　as　I　love　to　kill。　Yet　I　kill　less　and　less　as　the　years　go　by　because　the　need　is　not　there；　and　the　ramifications　of　murder　in　modern　society　are　plex　and　a　waste　of　my　precious　but　endless　time。　Some　loves　have　to　be　given　up；　others　have　to　be　forgotten。　Strange　as　it　may　sound；　if　you　think　of　me　as　a　monster；　but　I　can　love　most　passionately。　I　do　not　think　of　myself　as　evil。
　Why　am　I　talking　about　all　this？　Who　am　I　talking　to？　I　send　out　these　words；　these　thoughts；　simply　because　it　is　time。　Time　for　what；　I　do　not　know；　and　it　does　not　matter　because　it　is　what　I　want　and　that　is　always　reason　enough　for　me。　My　wants…how　few　they　are；　and　yet　how　deep　they　burn。　I　will　not　tell　you；　at　present；　who　I　am　talking　to。
　The　moment　is　pregnant　with　mystery；　even　for　me。　I　stand　outside　the　door　of　Detective　Michael　Riley's　office。　The　hour　is　late；　he　is　in　his　private　office　in　the　back；　the　light　down　low…I　know　this　without　seeing。　The　good　Mr。　Riley　called　me　three　hours　ago　to　tell　me　I　had　to　e　to　his　office　to　have　a　little　talk　about　some　things　I　might　find　of　interest。　There　was　a　note　of　threat　in　his　voice；　and　more。　I　can　sense　emotions；　although　I　cannot　read　minds。　I　am　curious　as　I　stand　in　this　cramped　and　stale　hallway。　I　am　also　annoyed；　and　that　doesn't　bode　well　for　Mr。　Riley。　I　knock　lightly　on　the　door　to　his　outer　office　and　open　it　before　he　can　respond。
　〃Hello；〃　I　say。　I　do　not　sound　dangerous…I　am；　after　all；　supposed　to　be　a　teenager。　I　stand　beside　the　secretary's　unhappy　desk；　imagining　that　her　last　few　paychecks　have　been　promised　to　her　as　〃practically　in　the　mail。〃　Mr。　Riley　is　at　his　desk；　inside　his　office；　and　stands　as　he　notices　me。　He　has　on　a　rumpled　brown　sport　coat；　and　in　a　glance　I　see　the　weighty　bulge　of　a　revolver　beneath　his　left　breast。　Mr。　Riley　thinks　I　am　dangerous；　I　note；　and　my　curiosity　goes　up　a　notch。　But　I'm　not　afraid　he　knows　what　I　really　am；　or　he　would　not　have　chosen　to　meet　with　me　at　all；　even　in　broad　daylight。
　〃Alisa　Perne？〃　he　says。　His　tone　is　uneasy。
　〃Yes。〃
　He　gestures　from　twenty　feet　away。　〃Please　e　in　and　have　a　seat。〃
　I　enter　his　office　but　do　not　take　the　offered　chair　in　front　of　his　desk；　but　rather；　one　against　the　right　wall。　I　want　a　straight　line　to　him　if　he　tries　to　pull　a　gun　on　me。　If　he　does　try；　he　will　die；　and　maybe　painfully。
　He　looks　at　me；　trying　to　size　me　up；　and　it　is　difficult　for　him　because　I　just　sit　here。　He；　however；　is　a　montage　of　many　impressions。　His　coat　is　not　only　wrinkled　but　stained…greasy　burgers　eaten　hastily。　I　note　it　all。　His　eyes　are　red　rimmed；　from　a　drug　as　much　as　fatigue。　I　hypothesize　his　poison　to　be　speed…medicine　to　nourish　long　hours　beating　the　pavement。　After　me？　Surely。　There　is　also　a　glint　of　satisfaction　in　his　eyes；　a　prey　finally　caught。　I　smile；　privately　at　the　thought；　yet　a　thread　of　uneasiness　enters　me　as　well。　The　office　is　stuffy；　slightly　chilly。　I　have　never　liked　the　cold；　although　I　could　survive　an　Arctic　winter　night　naked　to　the　bone。
　〃I　guess　you　wonder　why　I　wanted　to　talk　to　you　so　urgently；〃　he　says；
　I　nod。　My　legs　are　uncrossed；　my　white　slacks　hanging　loose。　One　hand　rests　in　my　lap；　the　other　plays　with　my　hair；　Left…handed；　right…handed…I　am　neither；　and　both。
　〃May　I　call　you　Alisa？〃　he　asks。
　〃You　may　call　me　what　you　wish；　Mr。　Riley。〃
　My　voice　startles　him；　just　a　little；　and　it　is　the　effect　I　want。　I　could　have　pitched　it　like　any　modern　teenager；　but　I　have　allowed　my　past　to　enter；　the　power　of　it。　I　want　to　keep　Mr。　Riley　nervous；　for　nervous　people　say　much　that　they　later　regret。
　〃Call　me　Mike；〃　he　says。　〃Did　you　have　trouble　finding　the　place？〃
　〃No；〃
　〃Can　I　get　you　anything？　Coffee？　A　soda？〃
　〃No。〃
　He　glances　at　a　folder　on　his　desk；　flips　it　open。　He　clears　his　throat；　and　again　I　hear　his　tiredness；　as　well　as　his　fear。　But　is　he　afraid　of　me？　I　am　not　sure。　Besides　the　gun　under　his　coat；　he　has　another　beneath　some　papers　at　the　other　side　of　his　desk。　I　smell　the　gunpowder　in　the　bullets；　the　cold　steel。　A　lot　of　firepower　to　meet　a　teenage　girl。　I　hear　a　faint　scratch　of　moving　metal　and　plastic。　He　is　taping　the　conversation。
　〃First　off　I　should　tell　you　who　I　am；〃　he　says。　〃As　I　said　on　the　phone；　I　am　a　private　detective。　My　business　is　my　own…I　work　entirely　freelance。　People　e　to　me　to　find　loved　ones；　to　research　risky　investments；　to　provide　protection；　when　necessary；　and　to　get　hard…to…find　background　information　on　certain　individuals。〃
　I　smile。　〃And　to　spy。〃
　He　blinks。　〃I　do　not　spy；　Miss　Perne。〃
　〃Really。〃　My　smile　broadens。　I　lean　forward；　the　tops　of　my　breasts　visible　at　the　open　neck　of　my　black　silk　blouse。　〃It　is　late；　Mr。　Riley。　Tell　me　what　you　want。〃
　He　shakes　his　head。　〃You　have　a　lot　of　confidence　for　a　kid。〃
　〃And　you　have　a　lot　of　nerve　for　a　down…on…his…luck　private　dick。〃
　He　doesn't　like　that。　He　taps　the　open　folder　on　his　desk。　〃I　have　been　researching　you　for　the　last　few　months；　Miss　Perne；　ever　since　you　moved　to　Mayfair。
　You　have　an　intriguing　past；　as　well　as　many　investments。　But　I'm　sure　you　know　that。〃
　〃Really。〃
　〃Before　I　begin；　may　I　ask　how　old　you　are？〃
　〃You　may　ask。〃
　〃How　old　are　you？〃
　〃It's　none　of　your　business。〃
　He　smiles。　He　thinks　he　has　scored　a　point。　He　does　not　realize　that　I　am　already　considering　how　he　should　die；　although　I　still　hope　to　avoid　such　an　extreme　measure。　Never　ask　a　vampire　her　age。　We　don't　like　that　question。　It's　very　impolite。　Mr。　Riley　clears　his　throat　again；　and　I　think　that　maybe　I　will　strangle　him。
　〃Prior　to　moving　to　Mayfair；〃　he　says；　〃you　lived　in　Los　Angeles…in　Beverly　Hills　in　fact…at　Two…Five…Six　Grove　Street。　Your　home　was　a　four…thousand…square…foot　mansion；　with　two　swimming　pools；　a　tennis　court；　a　sauna；　and　a　small　observatory。　The　property　is　valued　at　six…point…five　million。　To　this　day　you　are　listed　as　the　sole　owner；　Miss　Perne；〃
　〃It's　not　a　crime　to　be　rich。〃
　〃You　are　not　just　rich。　You　are　very　rich。　My　research　indicates　that　you　own　five　separate　estates　scattered　across　this　country。　Further　research　tells　me　that　you　probably　own　as　much　if　not　more　property　in　Europe　and　the　Far　East。　Your　stock　and　bond　assets　are　vast…in　the　hundreds　of　millions。　But　what　none　of　my　research　has　uncovered　is　how　you　came　across　this　incredible　wealth。　There　is　no　rec