pzb.lostsouls-第46节

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　　This　must　surely　be　the　true　child　of　night；　the　soul　of　all　the　thin　children　who　wore　black；　who　traced　their　eyes　in　kohl　and　stared　out　their　windows　waiting　for　the　sun　to　set。　This　boy　looked　as　if　he　had　been　raised　in　the　back　room　of　some　hole…in…the…wall　nightclub；　fed　on　bread　soaked　in　milk　and　whiskey；　the　bones　of　his　face　shaped　fine　by　hunger。　That　was　the　word　for　this　child：　hungry。　For　what？…for　drunkenness；　for　salvation　or　damnation；　for　the　night　itself。　The　shadows　beneath　his　eyes　might　have　been　painted　in　watercolor。　The　wrists　protruding　from　the　cuffs　of　his　raincoat　were　thin；　delicately　knobby。
　　Christian　disengaged　himself　from　Molochai　and　Twig；　took　a　stop　closer。　He　did　not　know　that　he　licked　his　lips。　〃Who　are　you？〃　he　asked。
　　〃This　is　Nothing；〃　Zillah　told　him。
　　The　name　took　a　moment　to　register。　But　Christian　had　never　forgotten　Jessy　or　her　beautiful　sugar…candy　baby。　All　through　the　years　he　had　wondered　whether　he　might　have　kept　the　baby　and　cared　for　it　himself；　time　after　time　he　had　reminded　himself　that　he　had　abandoned　it　to　give　it　a　chance　at　a　life　untainted　by　blood。　But　he　had　never　forgot…ton。　Now　he　knew　that　he　might　as　well　have　kept　the　baby　after　all。　Blood　calls　to　blood；　curses　and　blessings　find　the　ones　they　were　meant　for。
　　〃Nothing？〃　he　asked；　and　took　another　step　toward　the　boy。　Shyly；　the　child　nodded。
　　Christian　closed　his　eyes；　and　the　words　of　his　note　pinned　to　a　blanket　on　some　long…ago　cold　dawn　came　back　to　him。　〃'His　name　is　Nothing。'〃　he　quoted。　〃'Care　for　him　and　he　will　bring　you　luck。'〃
　　He　was　not　at　all　prepared　for　the　boy's　reaction。　Nothing　tore　himself　away　from　Zillah　and　launched　himself　at　Christian；　threw　his　arms　around　Christian's　waist。　Christian　felt　the　boy's　body　pressing　against　him；　warm　and　vital。
　　〃Yes！〃　Nothing　cried。　〃Yes！　Yes！　They　changed　my　name！　They　called　me　Jason　but　I　hated　them　and　I'm　still　Nothing　and　now　I'm　home　and　you　know　who　I　am！　Tell　me！　Tell　me　who　I　am！〃
　　〃Why；　you're　Zillah's　son；〃　said　Christian。　He　had　assumed　they　knew。　But　there　was　silence。　Absolute　silence。　Even　Molochai　and　Twig　were　quiet。
　　Nothing　only　stared　up　at　Christian。　The　shadows　beneath　his　eyes　were　suddenly　deeper；　his　mouth　was　limp；　half…open。　He　had　the　look　of　an　ill…used　child；　a　child　kept　out　too　late。　〃Oh；〃　he　said。　That　seemed　to　be　all　he　could　say。　〃Ohhh。〃
　　Zillah　gently　pried　Nothing　away　from　Christian。　Nothing　shut　his　eyes　tight　and　curled　into　Zillah's　arms。　His　head　lay　heavily　against　Zillah's　chest　In　an　instant　he　seemed　to　have　fallen　into　deep　shock。
　　Zillah　caressed　him　absently。　〃Mardi　Gras？〃　he　asked　Christian。　〃That　little　girl　at　your　bar？〃
　　Christian　nodded。
　　'Well；〃　said　Zillah。　He　was　paler　than　usual；　but　he　held　himself　straight；　and　his　eyes　were　fiercely　happy。　More　than　that；　Christian　realized。　Zillah's　eyes　were　proud。　〃Well。　That　changes　things；　doesn't　it？　That　makes　things　even　better。　Lovely。〃
　　Molochai　and　Twig　began　whispering　to　each　other。　Christian　heard　a　smothered　giggle。　The　singer　had　been　listening　to　the　exchange；　but　he　was　more　concerned　with　his　friend。　The　girl　seemed　to　be　in　a　world　of　her　own；　slumped　against　the　side　of　the　van；　her　arms　wrapped　around　herself；　her　chin　tucked　into　her　chest。　The　streetlight　was　very　bright　on　her　hair。
　　Christian　looked　up　at　the　moon。　It　hung　gravid　in　the　sky；　nearly　full。　Its　light　was　strong　enough　to　hurt　his　eyes；　and　he　closed　them；　but　still　the　moon　shone　through。　It　shone　down　upon　them　all　there　on　the　sidewalk…Steve；　his　head　in　Ghost's　lap；　furious；　wounded；　defeated；　Zillah；　with　his　sleeping　child　in　his　arms；　Molochai　and　Twig；　clutching　each　other；　still　whispering。
　　And　Ann　alone。　Ann　alone　under　the　moon。　Some　of　Zillah's　seed　was　trickling　out　of　her；　seeping　slow　and　creamy　down　her　thighs。
　　Some…but　not　all。　Inside　Ann；　two　specks　of　life　had　glued　themselves　together；　and　deep　inside　her　where　all　was　raw　and　red　and　wet；　something　came　alive。　A　microdot　of　meat；　part　human；　part　strange。　Nothing's　half…brother；　or　his　half…sister。
　　Steve　shuddered　and　lay　still　again。　Ghost　stroked　his　hair　helplessly。　Nothing　moaned；　beginning　to　surface　from　his　shock；　burrowing　into　his　father's　arms。　The　moon　shone　down；　and　Christian　stared　back　at　it。　And　inside　Ann；　the　infinitesimal　blob　of　meat　stretched　and　began　to　grow。
　　
　　
　　　PART　2
　　
　　　Chapter　21
　　
　　Night。
　　Heavy　green　night；　pine　branches　bending　low　to　sweep　the　gravel　road；　the　dying　grass；　the　trash　in　the　ditches。　Snaky　night；　riotous　with　the　last　October　kudzu。　The　kudzu　would　be　dead　in　another　month；　like　a　dry　brown　blanket　thrown　over　the　trees　and　the　roadsides。　But　now　it　still　writhed　under　the　moon；　succulent；　shifting；　green。　
　　Green　night。　
　　Violin　Road。
　　A　trailer　up　on　cinderblocks；　a　silver　Bel　Air　and　a　sagging　black　van　parked　in　the　scrubby　dirt　yard；　behind　the　trailer　a　tangled　thicket　of　rosebushes　that　would　bear　great　lacy　blossoms　on　into　November。　The　roses　had　gone　wild。
　　Nothing　knew　that　if　he　turned　his　head；　he　would　be　able　to　look　through　the　bedroom　window　and　see　the　spiny　etchwork　of　the　rosebushes　against　the　night　sky。　But　he　didn't　really　want　to　turn　his　head。　Instead　he　lay　very　still；　stretched　out　flat　on　his　back　in　Christian's　bed。　His　hands　moved　through　Christian's　glittering　black　hair；　stroked　the　long　curve　of　Christian's　back。
　　Christian　sighed　and　moved　closer；　nestling　his　head　under　Nothing's　chin；　and　Nothing　felt　a　tiny　sweet　flare　of　pain　as　Christian's　teeth　slid　a　little　deeper　beneath　the　skin　of　his　throat。
　　He　knew　Christian　was　being　careful。　He　knew　Christian　wouldn't　hurt　him；　would　take　only　a　taste　of　his　blood。　This　was　not　feeding；　this　was　lovemaking。　Weren't　Christian's　long　fingers　moving　over　him；　tracing　patterns　on　his　ribs　and　his　thighs；　seeming　to　worship　the　texture　of　his　skin？　Still；　Nothing　had　seen　those　teeth。　They　were　beautiful；　he　envied　them　and　wished　he　might　have　been　born　hundreds　of　years　ago；　before　the　adaptations　of　life　among　humans　caught　up　with　his　race…but　having　to　stay　sober　every　night　of　his　life　would　he　too　great　a　price　even　for　fangs　that　curved　down　over　his　lips　like　hooks　of　ivory。
　　At　first　the　teeth　had　only　pricked　Christian's　lower　lip。　They　lengthened　imperceptibly。　Nothing　looked　into　Christian's　mouth；　but　he　could　not　see　how　it　happened。　They　were　simply　longer　all　of　a　sudden；　like　hooked　needles；　silver…white　and　glistening。　Nothing　felt　those　teeth　hard　against　his　lips　when　Christian　kissed　him；　and　when　he　drew　back　he　tasted　blood。
　　Christian　bit　into　Nothing's　throat　as　gently　as　a　junkie　sliding　a　hypo　into　a　sore　vein；　but　Nothing　still　caught　his　breath　and　shivered　at　the　cold　exquisite　pain。　Then　Christian's　tongue　was　there；　licking　the　blood　away。　Christian　stroked　him；　a　different　touch　from　Zillah's：　slower；　gentler；　less　sure。　They　strained　against　each　other。
　　At　last　Christian's　mouth　unfastened　from　Nothing's　threat；　and　blood　flowed　between　them；　trickling　over　Nothing's　chest；　staining　the　sheets　a　little　more。　Nothing　realized　he　had　been　holding　his　breath。　He　let　it　out　in　a　great　rush。　What　had　he　been　afraid　of？　Christian　wouldn't　hurt　him。　He　was　of　Christian's　kind。
　　Still；　he　hadn't　wanted　to　turn　his　head。
　　〃Nothing；〃　moaned　Christian：　a　breath　of　fading　ecstasy；　borne　on　the　scent　of　blood。　〃O　Nothing。　I　would　like　to　rip　your　throat　open。〃
　　'Thank　you；〃　said　Nothing。　He　knew　this　was　a　pliment。　Then；　after　a　moment：　'Tell　me　about　Jessy　again。〃
　　Christian　sighed。　〃She　looked　like　you。　The　same　great　dark　eyes。　The　same　pointed　chin。　The　same　listening　silence。〃
　　〃You；　um；　you　fucked　her。〃
　　A　pause；　then：　〃Yes。　Many　times　over　a　hot　New　Orleans　summer。
　　〃She　was　sixteen；〃　Nothing　said　thoughtfully。　
　　〃Something　like　that。〃　
　　〃A　year　older　than　me。〃
　　'Yes〃
　　〃How　old　were　you？〃
　　A　pause。　'Three　hundred　and　sixty…eight。〃
　　Nothing　wanted　to　laugh；　but　he　could　not。　The　thought　of　all　those　years　stored　up　in　the　being　who　lay　beside　him；　belly　warm　with　his　blood；　mouth　slick　with　his　spit　。　。　。　no；　he　could　not　laugh。　The　sheer　weight　of　those　years　overwhelmed　him。　He　wondered　how　it　was　for　Christian。　Surely　three　hundred　and　sixty…eight　years　of　feeling　could　not　be　borne。　Had　Christian　stopped　feeling？　Did　he　simply　look　upon　the　world；　watchful；　shutting　out　joy　to　keep　back　the　pain　of　all　the　years？
　　Nothing　pressed　his　face　into　the　pillow。　His　eyes　had　gone　hot　and　wet。　He　kissed　Christian's　throat；　his　mouth。　It　was　just　a　mouth　again；　a　rather　cold　mouth　now；　with　a　dark　sweet　taste　on　the　tongue。　Two　of　the　top　front　teeth　were　unusually　sharp　。　。　。　but　Christian　didn't　smile　much。　Probably　no　one　ever　noticed　those　teeth。
　　〃Will　I　live　that　long？〃　Nothing　asked。
　　〃Perhaps。　If　you're　smarter　than　Molochai　and　Twig；　and　more　cautious　than　Zillah。〃　Christian　stroked　Nothing's　head。　〃I　can　see　the　true　color　of　your　hair　at　the　roots。　Golden…brown。　It　was　that　color　when　you　were　a　baby。〃
　　〃I　need　a　dye　job。〃　Absently　he