The Mammoth Book Of Vampire Stories Written By Women

"Carmine?" She stared at him, her eyes glaring disbelief and outrage, but David was already on his way upstairs and didn't see the change. "That's right. No need to worry about food: she won't be eating with us. But I've bought some wine; if you open it now, it can breathe for an hour or two. Just going to have a quick shower and get changed."

His voice diminished up the stairs and Penny stood motionless in the living room doorway. She hadn't taken in his exact words; hadn't listened to them. One word, one name, was all that had registered. All afternoon she had been preparing herself for the great confrontation, when she would hurl down what she had seen today like a gauntlet and challenge him to deny it. Now all her plans were thrown into chaos; he had preempted her and snatched the advantage. Carmine was coming here . He had invited her, as if there was nothing between them, nothing to hide, nothing going on. What "surprise" had they cooked up between them to mollify her, put her off the scent? They must think she was a fool, a moron , to be taken in by their games!

Upstairs in the bedroom David was singing as he stripped off. He had a good baritone voice, but now it grated hatefully on Penny's ears. Fool. Dupe. Taken for granted, used, mocked A huge and uncontrollable rage was rising inside her like a storm-tide, and though a small part of her brain warned her it was a kind of madness, another part welcomed it because it was better, so much better, than the pain of enduring betrayal and making no effort to counter it.

Counter it . Penny moved at last. Down the hall, into the kitchen. Footfalls overhead; David was in the bathroom now. Faint sound of the shower running. He's stopped singing. I don't ever want to hear him sing again .

She opened one of the kitchen drawers at random, looked inside, closed it. Her mind wasn't functioning properly: it was the rage that was doing it, blocking logic, blocking efficient reasoning and leaving her only with a robotic level of half-conscious reflex to drive her. Second drawer. No, not in there. Third.

Ah

It doesn't actually have to be a stake. Anything will do, as long as it pierces far enough . Carmine's own words. Her daughter had died that way, caught out by — how had Carmine phrased it? "A tactical mistake", that was it. Found out, unmasked for what she was, and summarily executed without a judge, jury or lawyer in sight. It must have happened a long time ago, of course. A century, two centuries: Carmine was coy about her age, so she hadn't put a date on the event. Attitudes were different then. This was the modern world, a rational age. People didn't do such things. Did they.

As long as it pierces far enough.

Penny took the cook's knife with the eight-inch blade out of its plastic sheath in the drawer, and started to weigh and balance it gently in her palm.

Carmine was fifteen minutes late, but that didn't matter. Penny heard a car approach and slow down, and settled herself more comfortably in her cross-legged position on the hall floor. It would take Carmine a minute or so to park; spaces were always tight in the evenings as more and more people arrived home and squeezed into diminishing slots. Yes; there she goes. Rev, rev. Sounds as if she doesn't know the length of her own car. I don't think I'll go outside and help her. I don't think that would be a good idea .

The stain on the carpet was spreading. Her hands and arms still dripped, probably from when she had punched her clenched fists into his chest afterwards, to make absolutely sure. Funny; she was so squeamish about red meat, but tonight she hadn't felt sick. Still didn't, despite the fact that the whole thing had been much more spectacular than she had anticipated. Penny giggled. Movie-makers didn't know the half of it. The marks might come out of the stairs and hall carpet, but there wasn't a chance of eradicating the mess upstairs. Bathroom, bedroom — she hadn't quite struck cleanly {Ha! Joke!) the first time, so David had managed to get to the bedroom before shock and pain keeled him over and she had been able to finish it all properly. The heart really is an efficient pump, isn't it? I hadn't realized it would go on for so long .

The revving outside stopped at last. Footsteps now, click of elegant heels approaching the front gate. Penny giggled again, and this time had a degree of trouble making it stop. Silly woman. Control yourself. It's no laughing matter .

At that thought she covered her mouth with a stained hand and snorted like a horse. Her face was smeared when she finally sobered and took the hand away, but she wasn't aware of it and wouldn't have minded in the least anyway. Come on, footsteps. I can hear you. Up the path. Hello, Carmine. Come in. I've been expecting you and I'm all ready .

A shape loomed dimly through the frosted glass panel in the door, and the bell rang, just once, demurely.