Jonathon still did not know her name. She was simply the young doctorix, simply his little bed buddy. Did he have the same feelings for her as for Sarah? Zebulon does not think so. She was simply a ...how do they say it now?....a friend with benefits. Such things existed in my time, but we called them courtesans, or and I am not proud of this...handmaidens, serving girls taken into households as slaves or little better than slaves and almost always used for such purposes. But sometimes it was a way to gain allies and riches or even freedom. Who knows, maybe Jonathon was the handmaiden in this instance. Only male handmaidens were usually called cup bearers. He looked over at her. She was still sleeping. Her features were fine. Her hair a deep, rich russet. And did she find it strange to be physically involved with a vampire? Had she done the like before? These people, this Anti-Enchantment-Bureau, had to be very powerful. How long have they been around? Jonathon guessed decades, maybe longer. If Doctor Franklin was truthful, they'd been there more than a century. And the Philadelphia vampires had never been able to detect them. Sometimes it seemed as if Edith and some of her Piney/Red Paint crowd sensed things. But still.They had to know something. The Anti-Enchantment crowd, I mean. Jonathon's thoughts matched my own. He wanted to know. So he slid his arm back under the sheet and tickled her. She purred. Her breath came more rapidly and her eyes fluttered and opened. She yawned. He smiled and kissed her. She snugglled up to him like a kitten. He put his arm around her and whispered in her ear. He said - You know I'd feel better if I knew what to call you. I mean other than one of those names from your box of identification tags.......There was silence. He felt her tension. He nibbled at her ear and said - Well?....She said - We're not supposed to share such information with our subjects..........He whispered - Is that what I am?.......More silence........He added - What am I saying? Of course I am.....And he retreated back to the other side of the bed. She flipped over so that she could face him, as she searched for words......Please, please, don't get me in trouble with those people.....Are they that dangerous? - he asked........Dangerous? They're beyond dangerous. They don't even look at it as being dangerous. It's just what they do. It's just what they 'can' do, - she pleaded.......But they let me know about Doctor Franklin and that one man who stayed in the room with us. Doctor Franklin called him Jamison, or something like that. I heard him, he said.......Yes, and next time he'll call him Smythe, or Ginsburg or Caruso, she explained..... Oh? Well then, I will give you a name. I will call you 'Bonita.' It is an old Spanish name. It means 'pretty' but in a cute and girlish way. You knew I spoke Spanish. didn't you?......Yes, she said, we know a lot of things........The silence returned. They layed there, intimate, yet far apart. And from somewhere else in Franklin's quarters, came the pure, clear dulcet notes of a small armonica. The master was composing a song....
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