Death Becomes Him - 13

For a long moment Trent hesitated. Whatever was going on with Rory, it was apparent he was not the man he’d once been. Far from it. No human… Trent frowned deeply at where his thoughts had gone. Of course he’s human. I mean, I see him, I felt him.

“I wish I were,” Rory said.

Trent raised one hand, pointing a finger at Rory. “How do you do that?”

“Reading your thoughts?” He smiled wanly. “It comes with the territory so to speak.”

Steeling himself, Trent said, “You’re right, we do need to talk. I guess by the river works as well as anywhere.”

“Thank you,” Rory murmured, keeping pace with Trent as he took off.

They walked in silence, Trent keeping enough space between them so there was no chance they would brush arms or shoulders. When they got to the river, he saw an empty bench a few yards off the path. Making a beeline to it, he sat, looking tensely at Rory, now standing in front of him. “All right. Explain yourself, if you can.”

Rory nodded. “I suppose the best place to start is the last time we talked. Remember you warned me to be careful?”

“About muggers. Yeah.”

“I should have listened, but I thought I was smarter, invincible even.” He began to pace. “I was almost to my car. It was at the backside of one of the lots, right next to the trolley tracks, not to far from here actually. My spot was next to some trees.” He sorted softly. “That was my first bit of bad luck. It was the only one open when I came down here that evening. Damned tourists. Anyway, I was just unlocking the car when two men came out of the trees. One of them had a knife, the other one… well from what little I saw before he hit me, it looked like a piece of pipe. I went down like the proverbial ton of bricks but I was still conscious and I managed to let out a shout for help.”

“Damn, Rory,” Trent whispered.

“Yeah. Anyway, I should have kept my mouth shut and let them take what they wanted. The guy with the knife… I guess he panicked. Anyway he stabbed me, here.” Rory touched his chest just above his heart. “That—was the last thing I remember until I woke up.” He smiled grimly. “I was on a bed. Wrists and ankles shackled to the four corners, a thick chain over my chest. I was sure I was either having a nightmare or had ended up in the hands of some S&M freak somehow.” Pausing, he took a deep breath then smiled slightly when he apparently realized what he’d done. “I don’t have to do that any more. Breathe that is.”

“Un-huh,” Trent replied, his anger back full force when Trent said that. “Now you’re going to try to convince me you’re what? One of the undead?”

“Exactly—because I am. The woman who saved me was a vampire.”

Trent surged to his feet. “Enough with the… the horror stories. Maybe, just maybe, ghosts do exist. Vampires? No. Way. In. Hell.” He punctuated each word with a stab of his finger to Rory’s chest.

“So they’d have you believe.” Rory opened his mouth just enough to let his fangs drop so that Trent could see them and then he retracted them.