(17) Trevor Wallace - Dhampir

“Trev?”

I feel someone shaking me. Del. He holds my cell out to me. Taking it. Listening. Smiling tightly at what my friend tells me.

Looking a Del when I’m done. “How are you feeling?”

He smiles a bit. “Better. I’m starving though.”

“Wait here, I’ll get you something.”

He starts to protest. Nods then. “Did you…”

“I might have found him. Let me get you something to eat first, then I’ll tell you.”

Twenty minutes later. He’s eating. I’m talking, eating too.

“I found where he had you. There was evidence there that a friend of mine came and looked for. He knows his stuff and came up with a possible name. I’m going to check it out.”

“Not without me.” Del looks at me. Determined.

Sighing. “I guess it’s okay. But you do what I tell you. Understand? If I say stay you stay, run, you run.”

“Yes sir.” He smiles slightly. Salutes.

“Smart ass kid.” Shaking my head.

“My saving grace.” He smiles again.

Tossing my trash and his. Looking at him then. “Del, why?”

“Why am I a whore? Long story, Trev, that maybe someday I’ll tell you.”

My turn to smile. “I’ll take you up on that.” Standing. “Oh hell. Hang on.”

“What?”

I chuckle. “I think you need more than my shirt. Give me your key.”

“I don’t carry it. It’s on top of the door frame.” He nods when I frowned. “I know, but it’s safe there, really. You’ll see.”

Take his word for it. Go down. Feel along the frame. Chuckle. It’s stuck under something that feels like gum. Wouldn’t have found it if I hadn’t known it was there. Get his cloths. Replace the key.

He goes to the bathroom. To dress.

I grab my sword from where I hide it. Just in case. Put on my coat.

Del joins me. We leave.