The Journal of Vincent Du Maurier Trilogy (Books 1, 2, 3)
“Her mouth remained uncovered, and a small drip of blood pooled in its corner. She had given up the European cigarettes she loved, a Lenten sacrifice for her maker, and replaced them with the young donor at her side, her pacifier for when she was swept up in sorrow.
“Return when I am done,” she barked at him, as I entered. Just before he slipped out, she said, “I will suck you dry up on deck, as the sun rises.”
I had not taken her for the kind of vampire who would waste a valuable source, an inv...estment she had groomed so meticulously. But she answered my curiosity when she said, “Xing Fu never liked Jörvi. I will offer him up for her.”
“Are you certain a blood sacrifice is what she would want?”
“Of course,” she said. “I know her better than you.
Qing ways are our own.” She bit her bottom lip, capping the anger that rose with her voice. “For five days, I shall kill one donor at sunrise.”
“Can you spare them?”
“Humph.” She scowled at me and then shrank from my gaze.MoreLess
“Return when I am done,” she barked at him, as I entered. Just before he slipped out, she said, “I will suck you dry up on deck, as the sun rises.”
I had not taken her for the kind of vampire who would waste a valuable source, an inv...estment she had groomed so meticulously. But she answered my curiosity when she said, “Xing Fu never liked Jörvi. I will offer him up for her.”
“Are you certain a blood sacrifice is what she would want?”
“Of course,” she said. “I know her better than you.
Qing ways are our own.” She bit her bottom lip, capping the anger that rose with her voice. “For five days, I shall kill one donor at sunrise.”
“Can you spare them?”
“Humph.” She scowled at me and then shrank from my gaze.MoreLess
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