Thirst No. 5 Read Online Free PDF Page A

countless IIC files, is sophisticated enough to trace Harrah and Ralph’s descendants.”
    “If we hadn’t kept such records, we would never have found you,” Brutran says. “We wouldn’t be together now.”
    “I should feel grateful?” I reply, letting a chill enter my tone. Brutran knows that I can kill her in an instant, that sheis only alive because we need her. She answers my unspoken thought.
    “We’re stronger together,” she says.
    “Find them,” I order.
    Twenty minutes later, as the mass of hotels comes into view beneath the glare of the afternoon sun, Brutran hands me a slip of paper with a name and address. Mrs. Sarah Goodwin, 134 Tree Leaf Lane, Clearglade, North Carolina. She’s confident that’s the woman in Shanti’s photo.
    I try calling Sarah. There’s no answer but I get a machine. I don’t dare leave a message.
    I’ve been to Las Vegas a few times in the last sixty years but have never stayed long. Gambling doesn’t excite me, although I can win as much as I want as long I’m allowed to throw the dice at the craps tables. I haven’t been to the city since the turn of the century and it’s impressive how much it has grown.
    Brutran steers us away from the Strip and the fancy hotels. Her drop box is located in a small private bank downtown—one, she assures us, that is very discreet. She takes Matt and her daughter with her as she enters the building, leaving me alone with Seymour in a run-down parking lot that looks like it was last paved when Las Vegas was born.
    “I think she has a thing for him,” Seymour observes.
    “She’s not his type.”
    “Too old?”
    “Are you forgetting that Matt was born in the Middle Ages?”
    “Well, he still has his boyish good looks.” Seymour pauses. “Are you his type?”
    “Do you ask because I resemble Teri?” I ask, referring to Matt’s recently deceased girlfriend and a descendant of mine.
    “That’s one reason,” Seymour says, waiting.
    “There’s no reason to be jealous.”
    “You slept with him.”
    “I was in another body. It doesn’t count.”
    “That’s such an old excuse,” he says.
    I smile as I turn and look at him. “You are jealous. How cute.”
    “Never tell a guy he’s cute.”
    “Are you jealous because you want to have sex with me?”
    “What guy wouldn’t want to have sex with you?”
    My smile wavers. “Matt’s not over Teri. I don’t know if he’ll ever get over her.”
    Seymour is sympathetic. “She was a wonderful girl.”
    “The best.” I add quietly, “But I know she’s in a good place.”
    He sees how serious I am. “You know because of what happened to you at IIC headquarters?”
    “There, and last night, at the motel. After . . .”
    “After you dealt with Shanti,” he finishes for me.
    “Yes.”
    “Do you remember what happened to you when you died?”
    I hesitate. “Everything.”
    Seymour sucks in a breath and leans forward to where I can feel his breath on my cheek. “Did you see Krishna?” he asks.
    I have to close my eyes a moment. Just the thought of Krishna, his bewitching smile, his enchanting voice, the love I felt when he said my name, his dark blue eyes, in whose depths all the stars in all the galaxies shone . . .
    “It matters not, Sita. Stay or go, you will always be with me.”
    There could be no greater longing, and I realize I would live a thousand lives, suffer a thousand horrible deaths, just to see him again.
    Of course, in a sense, I already have.
    “Yes,” I say as my eyes burn. I fight to hide any tears, although I’m happy to confide in Seymour. There’s no one I’d rather share secrets with. He nods and smiles at my answer. He knows what Krishna means to me.
    “Did he ask about me?” Seymour says.
    I chuckle. “Before he invited me into paradise, I had to reassure him that you were doing well.”
    Seymour catches my eye. “Did he invite you?”
    A serious question. “Yes.”
    “And you said no? How could you say no?”
    “Because