نفس خون آشام فصل 09

Vampire Breath - Chapter 9

I gasped and stumbled backward. If I hadn’t hit the wall, I think I would have fallen over.

The flashlight fell from my hand. It clattered loudly to the floor.

The sound made the old man turn in our direction.

In the trembling beam from Cara’s flashlight, he blinked several times. Then his tiny pale hands rubbed his eyes, as if rubbing the sleep from them.

He groaned softly. And tried to focus on us, squinting and rubbing his eyes.

My heart pounded so hard I thought it was about to explode through my shirt. My temples throbbed, and I let out sharp, wheezing breaths.

“I—I—” Cara stammered. I could see her whole body shaking as she stood in front of me, training the light on the old man in the coffin.

“Where am I?” the old man croaked. He shook his head. He appeared dazed. “Where am I? What am I doing here?” He squinted in the flashlight beam.

His pale, bald head glowed in the light. Even his eyes were pale, sort of silvery.

He licked his white lips. His mouth made a dry, smacking sound.

“I’m so thirsty,” he moaned in a hoarse whisper. “I’m so terribly—thirsty.” He sat up slowly, with a loud groan. As he pulled himself up, I saw that he wore a cape, a silky, purple cape that matched the purple of the coffin.

He licked his pale lips again. “So thirsty…”

And then he saw Cara and me.

He blinked again. And squinted at us. “Where am I?” he asked, staring hard at me with those eerie, silver eyes. “What room is this?” “It’s my house,” I replied. But the words tumbled out in a weak whisper.

“So thirsty…” he murmured again. Groaning and muttering to himself, he lifted one leg over the coffin, then the other.

He slid out onto the floor. He didn’t make a sound when he landed. He seemed so light, as if he didn’t weigh anything at all.

A chill of fear froze the back of my neck. I tried to back up. But I was already pressed against the wall.

I glanced to the open doorway. It seemed a hundred miles away.

The old man licked his dry lips. Still squinting hard, he took a step toward Cara and me. He smoothed his cape with both hands as he walked.

“Who—are—you?” Cara managed to choke out.

“How did you get here?” I cried, finding my voice. “What are you doing in my basement? How did you get in that coffin?” The questions burst out of me. “Who are you?” He stopped and scratched his bald head. For a moment, he appeared to be struggling to remember who he was.

Then he replied, “I am Count Nightwing.” He nodded, as if reminding himself. “Yes. I am Count Nightwing.” Cara and I both uttered gasps. Then we started talking at the same time.

“How did you get here?”

“What do you want?”

“Are you—are you—a vampire?”

He covered his ears with his hands. He shut his eyes. “The noise…” he complained. “Please, speak softly. I’ve been asleep for so long.” “Are you a vampire?” I asked softly.

“Yes. A vampire. Count Nightwing.” He nodded. And opened his eyes. He gazed at Cara, then at me, as if seeing us for the first time.

“Yessss,” he hissed. He raised his arms and began to move toward us.

“And I’m so thirsty. So very thirsty. I’ve been asleep for so long. And now I’m thirsty. And I must drink now.”