Life goes on as usual now.
I don’t move away from here. Not that I like the accommodations. But I feel a need to stay. Perhaps because I have a friend here.
I haven’t given up my search for vengeance. Night after night. Out on the streets. Finding, killing, Vampyres. The hatred still lives in me. It always will.
In all this world there is only one Vampyre that I might leave alive. Not a friend. Far from it. But perhaps not quite my enemy either.
When I’m not hunting. When Del’s not working. Sometimes we spent time together. Just talking. Perhaps catching supper, or more often breakfast at some sleaze dive in the neighborhood.
His pimp has come to accept that I’m around. He’s not happy about it. But I let him know, one evening soon after saving Del, that he would have to live with it. Or die. But I didn’t add that. Didn’t have to. I think he got the message without the words being said.
When I leave town. And I do that on occasion. I tell Del that I’ll be back. I miss him when I’m gone. My one friend. That’s all he is. Just a friend. I still find my release with the men or women on Bourbon, hookers or tourists. I won’t ruin what I have with Del by using him the way I do them. But I don’t tell him this. Just keep things as they are. Friend to friend. And he doesn’t ask.
Tonight something special happens. I think it’s special anyway. I’ve been in Del's place. Not often. But sometimes. It’s bigger than mine. Two rooms. One for his ‘entertaining’ his johns. One for him alone. Until tonight I’ve never seen the private one.
We’re just talking. Del on the bed. Me sitting in one of the chairs. My feet on the bed. Suddenly he’s looking at me strangely. I can see him thinking. He gets up. Goes to the door of the other room. Nods once then opens it. Walks through, crooking his finger for me to follow.
I’m wondering what’s going on. Following.