21 - ‘Come gentle night…’

Slowly but surely Kemp’s abilities grew stronger as the days passed. The scariest, yet most exciting one in his opinion was being able to know at a glance if someone was a vampyre and being able to see them even when they were invisible. It was exciting because he could—scary because just knowing didn’t tell him anything about them.

“That,” Trevor had reiterated, “is when you have to make a decision based on their actions. With most, like the two last night, it is quite obvious that they need to be terminated with extreme prejudice. As I’ve told you before, when in doubt check them out.” He’d chuckled after saying that. “Sounds like an advertising slogan but none the less true.”

After two weeks of lessons and nightly walks around the Quarter with Kemp before making certain he got back to the B&B without problems, Trevor told him that he considered Kemp able to handle himself on his own. Kemp had his doubts still but figured there was no recourse if he didn’t want to seem like a weakling in Trevor’s eyes. And that he was not willing to do. So he’d mustered his courage each night after work, checked his knives, and made the long walk home by himself. And so far he’d been fortunate and not run into any of his enemies, although once or twice he’d felt them in the area. When he did he would stop, trying to sense if they were in the process of attacking a victim. After getting nothing that said they were he’d moved on. He still wasn’t quite ready to go up and introduce himself so that he could ask if they were predators or just out for a stroll.

Tonight when he left the club he paused, debating whether to head straight home as always or stop to check out the band at a club farther up the street. He’d heard through the grapevine that they might be looking for a back-up singer. Not that he had the experience that would make them consider him if that was the truth but what the hell, it wouldn’t hurt to at least see if they were even any good.

They weren’t bad he decided as he sat at the rear of the room listening to them. Nothing to write home about but better than some he’d heard in the past. Once their set was over he leaned back, sipping his coke while eyeing the other customers. It wasn’t a gay club per se but he could tell it drew its fair share of men on the prowl. And right now he would almost welcome one of them coming on to him. He’d been celibate since he’d come to the city, between work and all his training, and was ready to end the long dry spell.

So when he saw a jade-eyed, dark-haired young man at the bar eyeing him he started to smile back. His smile froze unborn when he realized what the man was. Pushing back his chair he stood, uncertain whether to leave or approach him. The choice was taken out of his hands when the young man moved swiftly across the room to stand by his table.

“I was hoping…” The young man hesitated, “Are you leaving?”