Read Online Thirst No. 4 by Christopher Pike - Free Book Online

with the others when they travel to the Bay Area. I leave him a brief note saying I’ve gone out and not to worry.
    Matt’s rented me a car and I drive to Lieutenant Treach’s neighborhood and park two houses down from his residence. The sun has recently set and the shadows are lengthening. Rolling down the window, I sit quietly with my eyes closed. Before entering Teri’s body, my hearing was my most potent sense, the one tool I could always rely on when things got tough. Although Teri’s ears are not nearly as keen as my originals, I’m relieved that I’m able to hear what’s going on in the Treach household.
    Treach is not home yet. I listen as Mrs. Sandra Treach talks on the phone with her sister in New York. From the conversation I’m able to discern that Sandy, as her sister calls her, is the head of surgery at a nearby hospital. This interests me because surgeons often do transfusions during operations, and the head of the department would probably have relatively easy access to the clinic’s blood bank.
    From experience I know about blood banks and the quality of blood that can be found in such places. In the past, for the most part, I’ve stayed away from that source of nourishment. It’s not merely the components of blood that feed a vampire, but the life essence itself in the blood.
    What this essence is would be difficult to describe scientifically. In the West, they don’t have words for it. A Chinese acupuncturist might call it chi . A yogi from India would refer to it as prana . Whatever it is, it exists, and blood that has been stored for several weeks usually has a low charge. However, it is better than nothing and if I can get ahold of a few gallons it could save me a lot of grief while we travel to California. I hate the thought of constantly having to put my life on hold to satisfy my thirst.
    I decide to strike now while William is out. But I wait until Sandy finishes talking with her sister. I don’t want to be waved away at the door because she’s on the phone. Leaving my car, approaching the house, I listen as Sandy fiddles with an assortment of pots and pans. This venture is something of a test for me. Finally I’m going to see how much of my psychic abilities I have left.
    Sandy answers quickly, after I ring the doorbell. Like her husband, she’s about forty, tall and slender, but there the resemblance ends. The woman has bright red hair—it is close to orange—and wonderful green eyes. They sparkle; she is the kind of person that glows. And here I expected to find a stuffy old doctor.
    “Hello. Can I help you?” she asks.
    “Hi. My name’s Teri Raine. I met your husband today. He came to the hotel where I’m staying. He’s investigating a missing employee there.”
    “Teri, yes, I know who you are. Bill called me after he spoketo you. He said you were delightful. You were in the Olympics, weren’t you?”
    “That seems to be my main claim to fame.”
    “Well, of course, you won a gold medal and set a world record. How many women your age can say that?”
    “Not many, I suppose. Look, I know it must seem kind of weird to stop by your house, but I was sort of short with your husband today and I wanted to talk to him about something I remembered from when that guy vanished. Would he be home by any chance?”
    “He’s not here right now but I can give him a call. Would you like to come in a sec? I’m just starting dinner.” She opens the door wider and gestures for me to enter.
    “That would be great, thanks,” I say as I cross the threshold. The home is three stories tall, custom designed, with lots of open wood beams. I assume it’s Sandy’s salary that paid for the place. The woman bubbles with energy. I follow as she leads me into the living room and offers me a seat. Once again, I’m not surprised she trusted me enough to invite me into her home. Teri’s fame and her wholesome looks work wonders with complete strangers.
    Yet the inevitable question quickly