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Barbara flushed. “Right.”
Mercy sat down next to her. “You come here a lot?”
“Yeah, it’s like my special place.”
Mercy glanced up at the gray-blue sky. “It’s nice.”
“What are you doing here?” Barbara asked. “I mean, aren’t you supposed to sleep in the daylight?”
“You never sneaked out of your room at night when you’re not supposed to?”
“No.”
Mercy laughed. “Well, I’m good as long as I keep to the shade under the trees. I’m not going to burst into flames.” She jumped up. “Let’s go for a swim.”
“A swim?”
“What? You think vampyrs can’t swim either? I can swim like a fish.”
Mercy yanked her dress over her head, revealing small, pert breasts and slightly too-small panties. She wasn’t shy or coy about her body like Barbara. She ran down the bank and splashed into the shallows of the river. After a moment, Barbara pulled off her T-shirt and shorts, revealing her tired old bra and knickers beneath, and followed her. The water was chilly in the shade of the trees, so she floated just outside, in the warmer water.
That was how they would always swim afterward. Mercy in the shadows and Barbara in the sunlight, floating on their backs, fingers almost touching.
“So, what do they tell you about us?” Mercy asked.
“I’m not sure I want to say.”
“Go on.”
“That you’re demons, damned. And we can ward you off with a cross, or garlic.”
Mercy snorted. “Good luck with that.”
“Oh, and you can only come into a house if you’re invited.”
Mercy seemed to consider. “Never tested it, but it sounds like crap.”
Barbara giggled. “Is all of it wrong?”
“Mostly. Anything else?”
“Goddam, evil, blood-sucking spawns of Satan.”
“My dad,” Barbara said, “he says a lot of bad stuff. He hates vampyrs. He thinks you’re an abomination.”
“There’s a lot of vampyrs hate humans too. I’d be in trouble if my folks found out I was here.”
“What would they do?”
“Oh, probably stop me from coming again. Put me to work skinning the pigs for a while. What about your dad?”
The reply came to her, so sudden and involuntary, Barbara didn’t even think before articulating it:
“He’d kill you.”
—
Summer couldn’t last. Perhaps that added to the intensity of their relationship. A feeling that, right from the start, it was finite. Their moments were secret, snatched and special. Stolen in dappled shade. Lying together in the rough grass. Talking, giggling, kissing.
