Bloodsucking fiends Read Online Free PDF
Author: Christopher Moore
Majesty, I didn't know. I'm sorry."
"Safety first, son," the old man said with a smile.
"Yes, sir," the skater said. "I'll be more careful." He climbed to his feet and nodded to Tommy. "Sorry." He straightened his shades and skated slowly away.
Tommy stood staring at the old man, who had resumed feeding his dogs. "Your Majesty?"
"Or Your Imperial Highness," the Emperor said. "You're new to the City."
"Yes, but…"
A young woman in fishnet stockings and red satin hot pants, who was swinging by, paused by the Emperor and bowed slightly. "Morning, Highness," she said.
"Safety first, my child," the Emperor said.
She smiled and walked on. Tommy watched her until she turned the corner, then turned back to the old man.
"Welcome to my city," the Emperor said. "How are you doing so far?"
"I'm… I'm…" Tommy was confused. "Who are you?"
"Emperor of San Francisco, Protector of Mexico, at your service. Croissant?" The Emperor held open a white paper bag to Tommy, who shook his head.
"This impetuous fellow," the Emperor said, pointing to his Boston terrier, "is Bummer. A bit of a rascal, he, but the best bug-eyed rat dog in the City."
The little dog growled.
"And this," the Emperor continued, "is Lazarus, found dead on Geary Street after an unfortunate encounter with a French tour bus and snatched back from the brink by the mystical curative scent of a slightly used beef jerky."
The golden retriever offered his paw. Feeling stupid, Tommy took it and shook. "Pleased to meet you."
"And you are?" the Emperor asked.
"C. Thomas Flood."
"And the 'C' stands for?"
"Well, it doesn't really stand for anything. I'm a writer. I just added the 'C' to my pen name."
"And a fine affectation it is." The Emperor paused to gnaw the end of a croissant. "So, C, how is the City treating you so far?"
Tommy thought that he might have just been insulted, but he found he was enjoying talking to the old man. He hadn't had a conversation of more than a few words since he arrived in the City. "I like the City, but I'm having some problems."
He told the Emperor about the destruction of his car, about his subsequent meeting of Wong One, of his cramped, filthy quarters, and ended his story with the mystery of the flowers on his bed.
The Emperor sighed sympathetically and scratched his scruffy graying beard. "I'm afraid that I am unable to assist you with your accommodation problem; the men and I are fortunate enough to count the entire City as our home. But I may have a lead on a job for you, and perhaps a clue to the conundrum of the flowers."
The Emperor paused and motioned for Tommy to move closer. Tommy crouched down and cocked an ear to the Emperor. "Yes?"
"I've seen him," the Emperor whispered. "It's a vampire."
Tommy recoiled as if he'd been spit on. "A vampire florist?"
"Well, once you accept the vampire part, the florist part is a pretty easy leap, don't you think?"
Chapter 5 – Undead and Somewhat
Slightly Dazed
French people were fucking in the room next door; Jody could hear every groan, giggle, and bed spring squeak. In the room above, a television spewed game-show prattle: "I'll take Bestiality for five hundred, Alex."
Jody pulled a pillow over her head.
It wasn't exactly like waking up. There was no slow skate from dreamland to reality, no pleasant dawning of consciousness in the cozy twilight of sleepiness. No, it was as if someone had just switched on the world, full volume, like a clock radio playing reality's top forty irritating hits.
"Criminal Presidents for a hundred, Alex."
Jody flipped onto her back and stared at the ceiling. I always thought that sex and game shows ended at death, she thought. They always say "Rest in peace," don't they?
"Vas – y plus fort, mon petit cochon d'amour!"*
* " Do it harder, my little love pig !"
She wanted to complain to someone, anyone. She hated waking up alone – and going to sleep alone, for that matter. She had lived with ten different men in five years. Serial monogamy.
"Safety first, son," the old man said with a smile.
"Yes, sir," the skater said. "I'll be more careful." He climbed to his feet and nodded to Tommy. "Sorry." He straightened his shades and skated slowly away.
Tommy stood staring at the old man, who had resumed feeding his dogs. "Your Majesty?"
"Or Your Imperial Highness," the Emperor said. "You're new to the City."
"Yes, but…"
A young woman in fishnet stockings and red satin hot pants, who was swinging by, paused by the Emperor and bowed slightly. "Morning, Highness," she said.
"Safety first, my child," the Emperor said.
She smiled and walked on. Tommy watched her until she turned the corner, then turned back to the old man.
"Welcome to my city," the Emperor said. "How are you doing so far?"
"I'm… I'm…" Tommy was confused. "Who are you?"
"Emperor of San Francisco, Protector of Mexico, at your service. Croissant?" The Emperor held open a white paper bag to Tommy, who shook his head.
"This impetuous fellow," the Emperor said, pointing to his Boston terrier, "is Bummer. A bit of a rascal, he, but the best bug-eyed rat dog in the City."
The little dog growled.
"And this," the Emperor continued, "is Lazarus, found dead on Geary Street after an unfortunate encounter with a French tour bus and snatched back from the brink by the mystical curative scent of a slightly used beef jerky."
The golden retriever offered his paw. Feeling stupid, Tommy took it and shook. "Pleased to meet you."
"And you are?" the Emperor asked.
"C. Thomas Flood."
"And the 'C' stands for?"
"Well, it doesn't really stand for anything. I'm a writer. I just added the 'C' to my pen name."
"And a fine affectation it is." The Emperor paused to gnaw the end of a croissant. "So, C, how is the City treating you so far?"
Tommy thought that he might have just been insulted, but he found he was enjoying talking to the old man. He hadn't had a conversation of more than a few words since he arrived in the City. "I like the City, but I'm having some problems."
He told the Emperor about the destruction of his car, about his subsequent meeting of Wong One, of his cramped, filthy quarters, and ended his story with the mystery of the flowers on his bed.
The Emperor sighed sympathetically and scratched his scruffy graying beard. "I'm afraid that I am unable to assist you with your accommodation problem; the men and I are fortunate enough to count the entire City as our home. But I may have a lead on a job for you, and perhaps a clue to the conundrum of the flowers."
The Emperor paused and motioned for Tommy to move closer. Tommy crouched down and cocked an ear to the Emperor. "Yes?"
"I've seen him," the Emperor whispered. "It's a vampire."
Tommy recoiled as if he'd been spit on. "A vampire florist?"
"Well, once you accept the vampire part, the florist part is a pretty easy leap, don't you think?"
Chapter 5 – Undead and Somewhat
Slightly Dazed
French people were fucking in the room next door; Jody could hear every groan, giggle, and bed spring squeak. In the room above, a television spewed game-show prattle: "I'll take Bestiality for five hundred, Alex."
Jody pulled a pillow over her head.
It wasn't exactly like waking up. There was no slow skate from dreamland to reality, no pleasant dawning of consciousness in the cozy twilight of sleepiness. No, it was as if someone had just switched on the world, full volume, like a clock radio playing reality's top forty irritating hits.
"Criminal Presidents for a hundred, Alex."
Jody flipped onto her back and stared at the ceiling. I always thought that sex and game shows ended at death, she thought. They always say "Rest in peace," don't they?
"Vas – y plus fort, mon petit cochon d'amour!"*
* " Do it harder, my little love pig !"
She wanted to complain to someone, anyone. She hated waking up alone – and going to sleep alone, for that matter. She had lived with ten different men in five years. Serial monogamy.
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