Dead Men's s Boots

’

‘You may not know this, Castor, but I can give as well as take.’

For a few seconds I just kept staring. I was rummaging in my head for words. There were no words left. ‘You can-?’

‘When I feed, I take the strength, the life and the soul from the men I fuck. I started to do it to you once, so I’m sure you remember.’

I nodded. Waking in the dark, sweat cold on my face and chest, heart hammering an overclocked suburban mambo, I remembered most nights.

‘I’m not going to make love with you. It would hurt Susan if she knew, and I prefer not to lie to her.

But I am going to lend you some strength to work with. It might make the difference between you living and dying tonight.’

Two steps brought her up close to me, and her eyes were staring directly into mine. Point-blank. Point-singularity, her pupils two black holes that dragged me in not against my will but using my will to fuel their own local gravity.

She put one hand on the back of my neck, drawing me close. Our lips met.

At least, I assume they met.

If hypnotherapy was guaranteed to help me to remember, I’d sign up for a course today and happily pay whatever it cost up to and including my right arm. But while I can summon up without even trying every agonising detail of the night when Juliet tried to rape and devour me, the only thing I remember about that kiss is a sensation like the whole of my body being melted, rendered like tallow, blasted into steam and then falling like molten rain back into the exact same place I’d been standing. I don’t even know how long it took: it wasn’t the sort of thing that had a time signature on it. It was there, it was everywhere and then it was over. Juliet was stepping away from me towards the ladder and I was standing there alone, each cell of my body separately and searingly aware of the cold night air touching it.

‘That should be enough,’ said Juliet’s voice, from some unfathomable distance. ‘Use it wisely.’

With enormous reluctance, coming down from a height that was already fading out of my mind and leaving no traces, I turned to follow her.

A brittle heat filled me now, and it was as dry as the air in a furnace. Otherwise I might have cried.

‘And now,’ said Moloch with ironic emphasis when we reached the bottom of the ladder, ‘if you’ve adjusted your dress-’ Juliet’s warning glare silenced him.

&#ã wi th8216;We’re the point men,’ I said to him. ‘We’re going in from the front. Juliet’s going to join us when she’s done what needs to be done here.