Death Becomes Him - 14

“Ho—ly shit!” Trent backed away, his legs hit the edge of the bench and he landed hard on his ass. He gulped, shaking his head in pure disbelief.

“Convinced?” Rory asked wryly.

“Excuse me while I loose my dinner,” Trent mumbled, leaning over the edge of the bench to do just that, or at least the beer he’d had at the bar. Sitting back up, he spit to clear his mouth, wiping the back of his hand over it as he looked at Rory again. “Yeah, convinced, and scared shitless.”

“Of me?” Rory felt his heart sink in dismay.

“Of… the whole idea that they… that you, exist.”

“I’m still me—here,”—he tapped his forehead—“just a bit changed now.”

“A bit? A bit? You live on blood for God’s sake. And that’s just for starters.”

“That I get from a blood bank. I don’t go out hunting down humans. That’s not allowed.”

“Well isn’t that hunky-dory,” Trent said sarcastically. “But the one who found you must have been. I mean I presume it was a vampire who saved your life. What was their excuse for making you one of them? That you’d have died if they didn’t? And why did they care?”

“Do you mind if I…?”—Rory pointed to the bench. When Trent nodded slowly, Rory sat. “She wasn’t hunting. Strangely enough she was heading to the trolley stop when she heard me cry out.”

“She?”

“Yes. Her name is, well technically it’s Comtesse Émilienne Charpentier but she goes by Emily Carpenter.” He smiled softy. “She’s very nice, very sweet, and if women were my thing I’d probably have made a play for her soon after I met her.”

“I suppose I should be thankful she is female, or you might never have come back,” Trent said sourly, glowering at Rory. “Why didn’t you, until now?”

“Becoming a vampire is not ‘one day you aren’t, the next day you are’. It takes time, and getting used to—things. Learning how to handle what you are and what you can do.”

“Four damned years?”

“Closer to two. There’s more to it than just being strong and fast and… and all the stuff you read about in the stories. But back to what I was telling you. We might as well take it in order. Right?” When Trent nodded, Rory continued. “She heard me, smelt blood, and came to investigate. The bastards ran, I guess figuring they’d killed me and not wanting anyone to see who they were. From what she told me later, I was bleeding out and so close to death there was only one way to save me. She fed me some of her blood, then transported me back to her place.”

“I thought you said she was heading to the trolley.”

“She was, but this was an emergency so she, I suppose you could call it teleporting although it’s really a sort of flying. She’s so old that it was fast and easy for her. She took me home, restrained me, then fed me her blood again to keep me alive.”

“Meaning she turned you into a vampire, at least according to all the books about them.”

Rory nodded. “First it was her blood, and then what she got from the blood bank.”

Trent gave him a disbelieving look. “She can just walk into one and say ‘I need so many bags of type whatever’ and they give them to her?”

Chuckling, Rory shook his head. “There are vampire ones. There have to be if they’re”—he chewed his lip before amending his words—“If we’re going to remain civilized and not prey on humans.”

“Nice of you all,” Trent muttered. “So what next? You became one and then?”

“I had to learn how to handle everything, my strength, my preternatural sight and smell and speed. My revulsion about needing to drink blood to stay alive. I could, I still can, eat real food but it only satisfies the psychological need to seem human. Emily says in time I’ll find food boring, once I fully accept what I am and will always be until the day someone decides to end my existence.”