Dead is the New Black Read Online Free Page B

Who else had Dr.
Van Graf known personally?
    “Originally,” he was saying, “Bramble was
going to set his story in Austria, but when he looked at a map of
Europe, he decided on Transylvania as being more exotic, remote, a
place where a character such as Count Dracula might have existed. I
tried like hell to talk him out of it, but he cited literary
license as his justification and did as he wished, stubborn
Irishman that he was.”
    Dr. Van Graf smiled to himself as though
remembering his nemesis fondly. “While he wrote several other books
and was many years the business manager of London’s Lyceum Theatre, Dracula is all most of the world knows of
him.”
    Well, all that was very interesting, but it
still didn’t answer my question. “You are a Vampire, though,
yes?”
    He blinked a few times, and his smile didn’t
reach his eyes. “True, Mrs. Scott. But Vampires are an ethnic group
in the same way as Slavs or Hispanics or Celts. Stoker’s book
condemned us forever, though I’m sure that wasn’t his intent. He
simply wanted to write a thrilling story.”
    “And just so we’re clear on this, Vampires
aren’t members of the undead?”
    “The undead was a term coined by Stoker. Long
story, short, he was a sickly boy and didn’t even walk until he was
seven. To entertain him, his mother told him stories of the plagues
and where some people who were thought to have succumbed and were
even buried, awoke and climbed out of their graves at the last
minute, thereby seeming to come back to life from death.”
    “How awful .”
    He nodded. “Those sorts of stories and images
would have had a powerful effect on Bramble’s imagination. Having
said that, Vampires have sadly been topics of constant ridicule and
persecution. I’ve made it my business that this docudrama should
reveal the truth and set the record straight once and for all.”
    Watching me, his eyes were curiously
bright.
    “Have I set your mind at ease, Mrs.
Scott?”
    “Yes,” I lied. “Thank you.”
    Like I said, I needed a job and I needed it
now. I wanted to believe him, needed to. So if I were hired, I’d do
my best to accept what he’d said as truth. Then, if things started
looking iffy, I could always make a hasty exit. Probably.
    He stood. “Well, I think we’re done
here.”
    Slowly I rose to my feet. This interview was
obviously over, and I was still unemployed. But before I could
thank him for his time, he interrupted me.
    “Mrs. Scott, I find you to be neat, clean,
smart, personable, dedicated. You are desperate for a job—don’t
deny it—and I am equally desperate for a housekeeper. If it works
for you, it works for me. You’re hired.”
    It took a moment for the words to penetrate
my skull, but when they did my heart skipped a whole bunch of
beats.
    Stomping down on my urge to let go with a
nervous giggle, I said, “It definitely works for me. Thank you. I
won’t let you down. I promise.” I felt tears sting my eyes, and
blinked them away. “When would you like me to start?”
    “Now,” he stated. “Today. This minute. Can
you?”
    “Oh, um, yes. Well, almost. I just have to
arrange for my mother to be cared—”
    “Bring her.”
    I looked up, my brows lifted in surprise.
“Bring her? Bring her where?”
    “Here,” he said. “I understand she’s ill and
needs looking after. Forgive me, but I spoke with the agency
earlier to find out why someone with your abilities was applying
for a housekeeper’s job for which she had no professional
experience. So, as far as your mother is concerned, we have plenty
of room and this way, you won’t be worried she’s not being properly
cared for.”
    Just who was this guy? Where had he come
from? Was he too good to be true? Dear God, he wasn’t planning on
making a meal of me and my mother? The agency had a signed contract
that clearly stated Dr. Van Graf would not feast on my blood, but
what about my mother’s?
    I was willing to take the plunge and keep my
options open,