------ copyright 1996 by A. Fraser and L. McDavid -------- "Why did you cure him?" Griselda was too strong-nerved to jump. Plus she was used to vampires and other night-creatures popping up silently and unexpectedly. "And a good evening to you, Professor," she said cheerfully to the teal-eyed shadow leaning against the side of the Hart House Tower. "Classes over already?" "I asked you a question, witch," Adrian Talbot growled. "I only answer civilized questions," Gris replied. Adrian moved slowly into the light. "You _will_ answer me." He had obviously worked himself into a temper. The Blue Jays logo tilted dangerously as Gris cocked her head. "I'm going to have a cup of tea and some cookies," she said. "Come along, then." The vampire was thoroughly disconcerted by this response. His attempt at intimidation had not merely failed, it had been completely ignored. Adrian wasn't used to being ignored. He followed Gris, and before long found himself occupying the same chair, sipping the same herbal tea, and refusing the same store-bought cookies as Jake had previously. "Too bad," the witch said, nibbling a chocolate chip. "These aren't bad for store-bought. Not the same without the extra ingredient, of course." Jake would have blanched. Adrian, who had killed children for their blood, merely glanced at the package. "You can't offer cookies to a vampire," he said. "Pfui. Some bloodlines can still eat food." "Why did you cure Jake?" "I didn't 'cure' him. I bound Safelli's bloodline. There's a difference." Griselda drank some tea. "He was dangerous, Professor. To himself, to mortals, to the community, to _you_. Sooner or later, he'd have bitten somebody. He didn't have the power to back that up." She eyed the vampire severely. "Someone would have made the connection between Jake's new bite and you... and this time, he wouldn't have been around to pull you out of the fire." "Do you know _everything_?" Adrian demanded. She stared him right in the eyes. "Sometimes." Unable to meet that gaze, Adrian found himself studying the Blue Jays logo. "They shouldn't have traded Pat Borders," he said. "Damn right they shouldn't have. Just because he... don't you try to distract me!" She shook a finger at him. "One thing I don't understand--because I don't always understand everything--why?" "Why what?" "Why a lot of things. Why kill Safelli and risk tangling with his blood?" A shrug. "He was in the way." "You were lucky. His blood was older and stronger than yours." "You didn't bear him any great love. He's dead--why worry about it?" Gris looked at the vampire thoughtfully, but his expression was carefully blank. Of course, he was an actor. He wouldn't give anything away he didn't want to. "Why did you kiss that boy?" A gleam appeared in Adrian's blue-green eyes. "For the hell of it," he replied. "I didn't know what would come of it." He shifted. "Why did you just bind Safelli's blood? Why not mine, too? Why not completely cure him?" "I have my reasons." Adrian stood up. "Well, if you're going to be like _that_..." he started for the door. Gris' voice, though she didn't raise it, stopped him. "You're too late, dearie, Tom Cruise was already cast as the brat prince of vampires." "What role would you suggest?" he asked sarcastically. "I didn't like Safelli," she said, not answering, or else answering a previous question, much to his annoyance. "World's better off without him. His bloodline's still around, though." "I know." Adrian thought of Melantha, and winced. "I need to do something about her." "Try keeping your pants zipped," Gris suggested. "And wipe your mouth before you kiss. Jake didn't deserve that." Adrian examined his manicure. "I know" he said quietly. He looked at her. "What you did... binding Safelli's blood... curing Jake... well..." Griselda watched the actor grope for words, for once the glib phrases failing him. She wasn't going to help him out. "Thank you," he finally managed. "But I'm still not sure why just his and not mine." "There's a difference between brat blood and bad blood," Gris snapped. "I had my reasons. Jake's not sure whether or not he _wants_ to become a vampire when he dies. If he ever is certain he _doesn't_, I'll bind your blood, too. In the meantime, look after him." "Well, thank you." Adrian headed for the door again, then looked at her. "I don't suppose...." he said, almost wistfully, then stopped himself from revealing too much of his _real_ emotions. "Never mind," he said, in evident sorrow. "Thanks for the tea." He let himself out. ______ heh, wonder what he was going to ask for... Comments, compliments and thwacks on the side of the head may be sent to: fraser@library.utoronto.ca