Stalking the Vampire by Mike Resnick Read Free Book Online

Building?”
    â€œAmerican Aeronautics Association,” McGuire corrected him.
    Mallory peered through the window. He saw stacks of maps, a numberof books listing the best caves in America, and a desk with a sign: File Your Flight Plans Here.
    An incredibly slim woman, dressed all in black, with black hair and bright red lips, sat at the desk. When she saw Mallory staring at her, she winked and smiled at him.
    â€œWhat do you think?” said McGuire.
    â€œNot my type,” replied Mallory. “I prefer ’em alive.”
    â€œI meant, do you think she can help us?”
    Mallory shook his head. “The kid didn't have wings twenty minutes ago. I don't imagine he's sprouted any since then.”
    â€œNo, you're right,” agreed McGuire. “If he'd… changed …we'd have found his clothes. Take it from me, it's damned hard to fly when you've got a wingspan of forty inches and you're wearing a suit, a tie, and a pair of jockey shorts. Or even boxer shorts, for that matter.”
    They passed a trio of offices, and then Mallory came to a halt before the Advisory Council for the Newly Converted. “This looks like the kind of place he'd come,” announced the detective. “It's certainly where I'd come if it had happened to me.” He turned to McGuire. “You stay out here, and if you see a kid who fits Rupert's description, give a holler.”
    â€œI'm not very good at hollering,” said McGuire. “I never know what to yell. ‘Yoicks!’ seems somehow out of place, and of course ‘Excelsior!’ is just too old-fashioned. I could scream ‘Stop thief!’ of course—but if he's not a thief, we could have a defamation suit on our hands.”
    â€œOkay, don't yell,” said Mallory disgustedly. “Whistle.”
    â€œI can't.”
    â€œYou can't whistle at all?”
    â€œOnly ‘Bloody Mary Is the Girl for Me.’”
    â€œThen yodel.”
    â€œI've never yodeled before.”
    â€œGoddammit, McGuire!” said Mallory impatiently. “Just pound on the window and I'll take it from there.”
    â€œWhat if I break the window?”
    â€œWhat if I break your nose?” growled Mallory.
    â€œOkay, okay, I'll think of something,” said McGuire.
    Mallory just glared at the little vampire for a moment, then turned and entered the office. A portly man, all smiles and dimples, stood up from behind a desk and walked over to him, hand extended.
    â€œGreetings, my good man, greetings!” he thundered. “How may I help you? We represent the finest academic institutions in all Manhattan. If you're having difficulty finding your way around, I can arrange sonar lessons from the great Vladimir Plotkin himself.”
    â€œNo, thanks,” said Mallory. “I—”
    â€œPerhaps a correspondence course on Arteries and How to Find Them,” suggested the man. “Or we have a special this week: two tickets to the opera plus three private Squeaking on Key lessons.”
    â€œCan I get a word in, please?” said Mallory.
    â€œI apologize,” said the man. “My only excuse is my enthusiasm to help the newly converted.”
    â€œI don't qualify,” explained Mallory. “I'm just looking for someone.”
    â€œOh, we don't arrange liaisons here, my dear sir. You'll want the dance studio on the fourth floor. Their advertised specialty is How to Vamp for Your Man. Always a nice selection down there.”
    â€œI'm looking for a young man who is among the newly converted,” said Mallory. “I was hoping he'd come here.”
    â€œAre you the…ah… converter? ”
    â€œJust a friend. If he came here, it would have been in the last half hour.”
    The man shook his head. “No, it's been at least two hours since our last visitor. You might try Ebbets Field; I understand the Louisville Sluggers are in town. Our crowd just goes bats over them.” He