bob conoce de vampiros

"Bianca's a vampire," Bob pointed out cheerfully. "She's not alive in the classic sense. I'll get Mister and go fetch the bullets and you—”

The skull sighed. "Harry, I'm not trying to call you stupid or belabor the obvious, but you did get hired by a vampire of the White Court. An incubus. What kind of job did you think this was going to be?"
I glowered at Bob. He was right. I should have known it wasn't going to be simple.
"Speaking of," I said, "how much do you know about the White Court?"
"Oh, the usual," Bob said, which meant he knew plenty.
"I saw Thomas get real weird tonight," I said. "I don't know how to describe it, exactly. But Justine was there, and she said that he was freezing and that it worried her. Then he hit her with some kind of mind-magic hypnosis whammy, and zoned her out entirely. "
"He was Hungry," Bob said. "I mean, capital H kind of Hungry. The Hunger is a kind of. . . I don't know. Symbiotic spirit, inside a White Court vamp. They're born with it. "
"Ah," I said. "That's where they get the strength and powers and stuff. "
"Among them nigh-immortality," Bob said. "But it don't happen for free. That's why they do the whole feeding thing. The Hunger needs it to survive. "
"I got it, I got it," I said, through a yawn. "They use their powers and it makes the spirit hungry so they have to feed. " I frowned. "What happens if they don't feed?"
"Short- term? Moodiness, anger, violent behavior, paranoia. In the long term, they'll use up whatever reservoir of life energy they have. Once that happens, the Hunger pretty much takes over and makes them hunt. "
"If they can't hunt?"
"They go insane. "
"What about the people they feed on?" I asked.
"What about them?" Bob said. "They get little pieces of their life nibbled away. It does a form of spiritual damage, like when the Nightmare mauled Mickey Malone. It leaves them vulnerable to the Whites' mental allure and control, so it's easy for the Whites to come by for another bite. "
"What happens if they keep getting fed on?"
"It's fed upon, o Bard, and if it keeps up the mortal burns out early. Sort of fades away into a kind of mindless daze. Heart attack during an intense feeding usually kills them. "
"Killer sex," I said. "Literally. "
"To die for," Bob confirmed.
An eerie thought, and one that disturbed me a lot more than I thought it should. "What if the vamp doesn't want to feed on someone?"
"Want doesn't matter," Bob said. "They feed on pure reflex. It's what they are. "
"So if they stay with someone," I said, "eventually they kill them. "
"Sooner or later," Bob said. "Always. "
I shook my head. "I'll remember that," I said. "Tough to keep up the paranoia around Thomas. He's. . . well, hell, if he was human I might not mind buying him a beer once in a while. "
Bob's tone turned serious. "He might be a great guy, Harry, but it doesn't change the fact that he isn't always in control of his power, or his Hunger. I doubt he can stop himself from entrancing that pretty girl of his. Or from feeding upon her. " Bob paused. "Not that he'd really want to. I mean, she's hot. Who wouldn't want a little nibble of Justine now and then? Am I right?"


"Any goons?"
"Big- time. Half a dozen Renfields, and each of them has a darkhound to boot. "
"Renfields?" I asked.
"How in the world can you exist in this century and not know about Renfields?" Bob demanded. "You need a life, stat. "
"I read the book. I know who Renfield was. I'm not familiar with the parlance for Renfield in the plural. "
"Oh," Bob said. "What do you need to know?"
"Well. First off, what did they call them before Stoker published the book?" I asked.
"They didn't call them anything, Harry," Bob said in a tone of gentle patience. "That's why the White Court had Stoker publish the book. To tell people about them."
"Oh. Right. " I rubbed at my eyes. "How do the vampires do their recruiting?"
"Mind- control magic," Bob said. "The usual. "
"Always with the mental control," I muttered. "Let me make sure my facts are straight. Rough thralls just stand a round looking blank until they get orders, right?"
"Yeah," Bob said, pen scratching. "Sort of like zombies, but they still have to go to the bathroom. "
"So a Renfield is the fine version of thralldom?"
"No," Bob said. "A fine thrall is so controlled that they might not even know that they're a thrall at all, and it lasts long-term. "
"Like what DuMorne did to Elaine. "
"Uh, I guess so, yeah. Like that. That kind of thing takes a subtle hand, though. Enthralling someone also requires a lot of time and a certain amount of empathy, neither of which has been readily available to Mavra. "
"So?" I said, getting impatient. "A Renfield is a. . . ?"
Bob put the pen down. "It's the quick, dirty way for the Black Court to pick up some cheap muscle, Renfields have been crushed into total thralldom through brute psychic force. "
"You're kidding," I said. "The kind of mental damage that would do to someone. . . "
"It destroys their sanity when it happens," Bob confirmed. "Makes them no good for anything but gibbering violence, but since that's pretty much what the vampires wanted to begin with it works out. "
"How do you get them out of it?" I asked.
"You don't," Bob said. "The original Merlin couldn't undo it, and neither could any of the saints on record who have tried. A thrall can be freed, or recover over time. Renfields can't. From the moment their minds break they've got an expiration date. "
"Ugh," I said. "What do you mean?"
"Renfields get more and more violent and deranged, and they self-destruct in a year or two. You can't fix them. For all practical purposes, they're already dead. "
I went over the facts in my head, and admired how much uglier the situation had just become. Over the years I've learned that ignorance is more than just bliss. It's freaking orgasmic ecstasy. I glanced at Bob and said, "Are you sure about your facts?"
The cloud of orange light flowed tiredly back into the skull on its shelf. "Yes. DuMorne did quite a bit of research on the subject back in the day. "
"Murphy isn't going to like this," I said. "Dismembering monsters with a chain saw is one thing. People are another. "
"Yeah. People are easier. "
"Bob," I growled. "They're people. "
"Renfields aren't, Harry," Bob said. "They might still be moving around but they're pretty much gone. "
"Boy, would it be fun to explain that to a courtroom," I said. I shuddered. "Or to the White Council, for that matter. If I take out the wrong person, I could wind up in jail-or in a White Council star chamber trial. Mavra's using the laws to protect herself against us. That's so backward. "
"Screw the laws! Kill 'em all!" Bob said with weary cheer.
I sighed. "What about the dogs?"
"Your basic animal," Bob said. "But they've been infused with a portion of the same kind of dark power that the Black Court runs on. They're stronger, faster, and they don't feel pain. I once saw a darkhound rip its way through a brick wall. "
"I bet they look like normal dogs afterward, huh?"
"And before-ward," Bob said.
"I guess if the cops are on my case when this is over, the SPCA can come along for the ride. " I shook my head. "And on top of all that, Mavra is also keeping those hostages in the closet for food. She'll use them as human shields once fighting starts. "
"Or as bait in a trap," Bob said.
"Yeah. Either way it makes things more complicated, even if we go in when Mavra and her scourge are sleeping. " I looked at Bob's diagram of the lair. "Any security system?"
"Old electronic one," Bob said. "Nothing fancy. No problem for you to hex it down. "
"Mavra will know that. She'll have sentries. We need to get past them. "
"Forget it. Rough thralls and Renfields don't exactly make the most observant guardians in the world, but the darkhounds make up for them. If you want to sneak up, you'll have to be invisible, inaudible, and unsmellable. Don't count on a surprise attack. "