Read Online Gypsy Blood by Steve Vernon - Free Book Online Page B

and choosing the right corsage. It’s nice, every now and then, to have a woman lean over and give you the first kiss. To hold the door for you and invite you in, as it were.
    He felt the hard edges of her teeth beneath her lips. He felt the pressure, the want of it. He felt the gentle opening of her mouth, the soft sucking even without penetration, like she could empty him dry without a thought. It excited him in a weird kind of way.
    Sure. Like sucking on a machine gun. Dead men jig fastest on the wrong end of the rope. You think death is exciting? Oh my boy, how much I want to teach you.
    Carnival wondered about that. Did he have a death wish? Was he in that much of a hurry to find out what was on the other side of that door? Maya slid her lips down along his chin. He stiffened as if she’d offered oral sex. It’s funny how that works for a guy. Maybe it’s biological. We just have to see a woman’s mouth and it’s one of the first things we think of. She slid down to Carnival’s neck. He felt the scabbed over wound in his finger pulsing with need.
    “It’s late,” she whispered, leaving her mouth close to his neck. Her tongue and lips and breath made a gentle wet dance across his skin, raising slow goose bumps that pulsed over his carotid artery.
    Oh that’s smart. Let the vampire kiss your neck. Why don’t you just stick your head under a plow horse’s hoof and get it over with?
    Carnival did his best to not pay attention. It was always tricky, making love with someone watching from inside your chest. It went a little beyond voyeurism. It smacked too much of masturbation.
    Ha. You’ll play with yourself tonight, Val my boy. She’s not staying with you. I can smell her disinterest.
    “You can have the cot,” Carnival offered gallantly. “I’ll be happy to sleep on the floor.”
    His aching back wouldn’t like it but Galahad wouldn’t stand for anything less.
    “That’s not necessary.” Maya said.
    She pulled away. Carnival leaned a little as she pulled, shamelessly trying to prolong the touch of her lips against his throat.
    “I need some place darker.”
    He thought quickly. There was a closet with a blanket draped across it. A trunk full of used pocketbooks, most of them moldy. There was a shoe box and a wooden crate. Nothing else came to mind.
    “Here perhaps.”
    She slid the cot aside.
    That’s a woman for you. Moved in and moving furniture. Tomorrow you can go shopping for drapery.
    Underneath the cot was a trapdoor. Not like in the movies, with a great iron ring and massive hinges. This one was modern, with a small brass pot handle for a knob. That couldn’t have always been there, could it?
    “I don’t remember that being here.” Carnival said.
    She smiled. “It’s funny, the things you forget.”
    He opened his mouth. He should have said something but he couldn’t think what. His mind was muffled, anesthetized.
    “I’ll sleep down here,” She said. “Away from the sunlight.”
    “You mean I get to sleep on top of you?”
    “If you wish.”
    Cute. A bunk bed with the undead. You two ought to write a show tune.
    Maya opened the trapdoor. It swung up soundlessly. He still couldn’t remember it being there before. Had she made it? Was it some sort of inter-dimensional portal? Maybe it opened into her coffin.
    It’s an escape, and you’re letting her use it. What kind of man are you, to let a woman into your house and then let her get back out? Turn in your secret masculinity handshake to the testosterone watchmen. It’s tutu time for you.
    Maya climbed down the ladder. Carnival tried to sneak a peek but there wasn’t enough light to see what lay below.
    “You want me to come tuck you in?”
    “Ha,” she smiled at that. “You wish.”
    Then she swung the trapdoor closed. He tried to open it but it refused to budge. It didn’t look heavy. It was just a couple of sheets of cheap plywood nailed together as far as he could see. If he had a pry bar he might force an