There was no one at home, and I was coming away when I saw that the door was open. ’ ‘Your husband?’ Gerald tutted. My concept of the reluctant vampire sprung from a rabid obsession with medieval history, especially the pre-Renaissance era of the Black Plague. ” He turned to the waiter, who held a wine-card. I’ve made an ally of her champion. The door closed softly upon her. Conscience drove him to this side of the world, to this bed. But I had to know for sure. Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky.
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