The Mammoth Book Of Vampire Stories Written By Women

Eventually, the ringing telephone forced her to pull herself together. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and wrote down the message for Mr Richview, then returned to the kitchen. Her plate of food looked very unappetizing; she scraped the uneaten meal into the garbage disposal.

With all the troublesome news she had forgotten about the parcel itself. Perhaps she should have opened it before reading the letter, before becoming upset.

Inside she found a small cardboard box, and inside that a little black leather pouch, very worn, tied shut with a black leather thong, a pouch she had never seen before. She opened it to find a rosary. There, the gold crucifix at the end. And the Virginsita . And Diosito! Mio Diosito ! What was this? There were no beads that formed this rosary, but los dientes! Small teeth. She picked it up to examine it in the light, and at the same time reached for the letter.

At the bottom, her grandmother had added, "This belonged to my mother. The rosary is made from a baby tooth from each of her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, including you. I gave it to your mother, and she wanted you to have it, when it was time. You are to give it to your eldest daughter. Maybe you will now see how special you are, Remedios. Your family needs you."

Remedios looked closely at the rosary. All these baby teeth! It was true, her mother had sisters and brothers, and her grandmother too. So many teeth, all coated to keep them from turning too brown. There were back teeth, and front, from every area of the mouth. Some had come from her sisters and brothers, a tooth from her mother was here, her grandmother, but she did not know which belonged to whom. She looked at the familiar pattern of the rosary: one, three, one from the crucifix to the connector. Then: one, ten, one, ten, one, ten, one, ten, one, ten. Sixty altogether. And all similar. All but one. One she now noticed, and how had she missed it before?

A tooth like no other on this chain. Longer than the rest. One of the two they call the eye teeth. Pointed, sharp, not like a human tooth at all, more like the fang of an animal. Like the tooth of a vampire.

Remedios gasped, and the rosary slipped between her hands and hit the tile floor below.

Stupid girl! she chided herself, bending instantly to retrieve this precious gift from her mother. Thank the saints, may none of the teeth have broken.

She examined them all, one by one. Yes, none had broken or chipped. Oh, how lucky! And then she stared in horror at the long incisor. Gingerly she touched her fingertip to the point. Sharp! Like a knife.

Unnerved by this gift, by the letter, Remedios returned the rosary to the pouch. She stacked the dishwasher quickly, cleaned up the kitchen, then took the parcel to her room. She found the rosary and the letter so upsetting she placed the entire package in the bottom dresser drawer, under her T-shirts. Suddenly, she felt exhausted. Without undressing, just removing her shoes, she lay on the bed and closed her eyes with the lights still on.

Remedios awoke with a start from a deep and disturbing dream she could not remember. Her bedroom at the Richviews' looked strange, unfamiliar, with shadows moving in the corners, concealing what? El Chupa-cabra !

She bolted upright and stared hard at the shadows, examining them from the safety of her bed, listening; the house seemed unnaturally quiet, as if she were the only living, breathing soul under the roof. Outside her partially opened window there were no sounds in the dark night air, not even crickets. As if pulled by an invisible force, her eyes became focused on the dresser, and what she knew lay in the bottom drawer, hidden, but not. The awareness caused her heart to race, and her lungs felt compressed, as if there was no room for air, or not enough air to fill them. Her stomach cramped.

She got up from the bed and wandered into the hallway, listening. No sounds came from the upstairs. She padded barefoot to the kitchen, the familiar place where she spent so much time. She plugged in the electric kettle, and that simple, everyday act calmed her.

The undercurrent of terror she felt began to dissipate and she was left with a gnawing in her stomach she understood to be hunger. She opened the refrigerator, took out the plate with the roast, and reached for a carving knife from the rack. Hardly aware of what she was doing, Remedios cut deep into the flesh, to the bloodiest part, pulling out the reddest bits with her hands and stuffing them into her mouth, licking the blood from her fingers.

She looked at her hands, stained crimson with the meat juice, the blood, and suddenly remembered this: in the days between seasons, when the weather begins to turn even cooler at night, when she had been a child, very young — had Esperanza been born yet? — she had tasted blood!