(100) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

Vampyre.

One word. It all comes back. I shake my head in denial.

"I murdered him."

"Who, baby?" Del's eyes widen in question. "Who?"

"Him." The story spills out as if telling it will free me from the guilt. As I tell it I pace. Afraid to look at them.

When I finish Lenny sighs. "I did wonder if you were responsible. I heard he'd been killed. He was a good man."

"But you said nothing." I turn to stare at him then lower my gaze. I feel my guilt deeply, still.

He spreads his hands in acceptance of my words. "I was torn between telling you what I thought, not knowing how you'd react, and leaving you as you were so there'd be one less slayer of my kind taking up his sword against us." 

Pete puts in his own two cents worth. "Trev, you were only doing what you're programmed to do."

"Fuck that. No one should leave their morals behind. Do you, Pete? Do you go out and kill whoever you're pointed at, with no thought about whether they deserve it not?"

He blows out a long breath. "I used to. Then Vik showed me that wasn't right." He stares at me hard. "Maybe this was your awakening, Trevor, or the second one. The more crucial one. You've already accepted that Vik's one of the good guys, even though he is a Vampyre. Now you've met two more. Unfortunately, you had to kill one of them before the lesson really sank in."

I run my hands through my hair and clasp them behind my head. Nod as I think about what he said. "Hell of a way to learn something isn't it?"

Del has been listening. Now he asks. "How did the accident happen? Were you..." He hesitates.

"Trying to kill myself? I don't know, Del." I say, more to myself than him, "I don't know. I was riding blind. Running from what I'd done and the guilt I felt. From the realization of what I am."

"What you were," Del says adamantly.

"We don't know that. Yeah, I feel like the lowest thing crawling right now, but who's to say that the next time I run into a Vampyre I won't do the same thing again. Pete's right. I was programmed to kill them from the day I was born. It's been all that I am. The reason for my existence."

"Then change, Trevor." Lenny approaches. Puts his hand on my arm. "I can't stress this strongly enough. We are not all the enemy." He smiles slightly, "Although many of us are, unfortunately. We're like any species. There are good and bad. With Vampyres the bad ones out number the good by a lot, I'm afraid. We're predators, humans are our prey. That's the way it is and the way it's perceived by too many of my kind."

"And those are the ones I have to destroy. But how do I know? How do I decide which one should live and which should die?"

"The same way Pete does." Del looks between us. "You study them. You don't believe what you've been told about one until you've checked for yourself."

Lenny agrees. "It won't be easy, Trevor. I know, if you're like most Dhampir, that you spend your nights out and about searching for Vampyres. Ninety percent of the time it will be obvious from their actions that they deserve to die. But if you feel even the slightest doubt, hold back. Find their lair, their home—and then wait. See if they kill or if they just feed. Hell, I don't have to give you the details. You're more than aware of what's what. Just don't let your hatred be your guide line."

"I'm going to try. I owe that much to you and Vik and most of all, to the one I murdered in cold blood."

Del takes my hands in his. "I'll be there with you. I'll..."

"Smack him up side the head if he screws up?" Pete laughs.

"Yes, that too." Del grins. And then says to me, "I love you, so I'm going to make certain that you don't go off the deep end again, for both our sakes."

"I love you, too." I realize that's the truth. I tip his chin up. Kiss him gently. He wraps his arms around me. Returns it.

I hear Pete ask Lenny. "Can they use your bedroom?"

Break the kiss to glare at him. Then grin. "We'll wait till we get home." 

I go over to Lenny. My arm still around Del. I'm not letting go of him just yet. "I don't know how to thank you. You saved my life in more ways than one. I'll never forget that, as I'm your enemy, you had every right to kill me—and didn't."

"What you have to remember is that we're all of us human." He waggles his hand. "So to speak. We have the same scruples, good or bad, as anyone else. Keep that in mind from now on and you'll do well, Trevor." He actually hugs me then. "I'm glad we met. If you're ever in the neighborhood again, stop in. All right?"

"I will. You're good people, especially," I grin, "for a Vampyre."

"You're not too bad either—for a Dhampir."

"One who's learned a big lesson that I won't forget." I take Del's hand, holding it tight. "Let's go home."

The End

(99) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

Outside the cabin, he listens. There are two men in there. They sound...familiar. What does the one mean by his question?

He frowns. Does he know them? Do they know him?

Hesitantly, he opens the door.

"Trev!" The smaller one starts towards him.

He looks at him with no recognition.

The smile on his face turns to worry. "Trev, it's me. Del."

"Del?" Something sparks in his eyes. Then dies. He looks at Lenny.

"These are friends of yours. Del and Pete. They've been searching for you and now it looks like they've found you."

"Del. Pete." He tests the names. Shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I...I don't remember."

Del steps closer. Reaches to take his hand. "It's alright, baby. We'll help you remember. We just have to get you home and then you'll see. It'll all come back to you, I promise."

"Where is 'home'?"

"New Orleans, the French Quarter. Your house there." Del smiles tentatively. "Ring any bells?"

He frowns deeply. "No. I wish it did."

Pete comes over. "Don't try to force it, Trevor. Do you remember anything at all?"

"I know how to use a sword, strangely enough, but I have no clue why. Or why I had one with me. And once in a while some word or another triggers something but then it's gone again." He sighs. "I guess I must have done something horrible. Or at least that's the theory we came up with." He looks at Lenny. "Something my mind won't let me remember so it's blocking everything."

Pete glances at Lenny. "Did he hit his head in the crash?"

"Yep, and lots of other body parts too." He chuckles. "He was a real mess when I found him, but nothing broken or I might have taken him to the hospital anyway."

"Why didn't you?"

"I think you know."

"What do they know? And why did he…Del, ask you if I knew what you were? What are you?"

No one speaks for a moment. Del and Pete look at Lenny. Finally Del says, "Tell him."

"I'm a Vampyre."

(98) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

Lenny looks at Pete. "You don't smell like a ghoul, despite telling me you're his lover."

Pete snorts. "Why do all of you assume that because I have a Vampyre lover I must be a ghoul? He's never even suggested that he drink from us, as much as we might want him to."

"We? How many of you are there? And why would you want him to unless..." Lenny's eyes spark with understanding. "You want to be blood bound to him. Not as his ghouls but as more."

"Yeah." Pete nods as he glances at Del, perched on the arm of the sofa listening. He looks back at Lenny. "And there are only two of us." He chuckles. "Though some people would think that's one too many."

"Most humans would think it's two too many." Lenny shakes his head in indignation. "What do you think you will get from a blood bond?"

"Well, better sex for one thing." Pete grins then sobers. "There are stories of what it can mean, most of which are probably fairy tales. But to be honest, all either of us want is the total commitment from him that he's been unwilling to give."

"Pete!" Del looks at him in surprise. "You don't think he's committed? From what I've seen you're dead wrong."

"I know he loves us, Del. But if we bond with him it becomes deeper than love."

Lenny nods. "You will become more aware of all of his emotions. You will know when he's in trouble or in pain and the same for him. He'll know where you are at all times and will come to you if you need him. You will also gain strength and become more attractive to other humans. You'll be healthier and heal faster. But be aware, Pete, you will also crave the taste of his blood and will sicken if you go too long without it. If he dies, then in time so will you from lack of it. Being blood bound is not something to take lightly. It's not to be used as an aphrodisiac."

"If he dies, why would I want to keep living? I love him."

"For Mychael." Del gives him a 'duh' look.

"He has a valid point, since there are three of you involved." Lenny frowns. "Are you hoping he will eventually turn you?"

"Hell no! I've seen what his life is like. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."

Lenny laughs. "It's not all bad. There are perks, as I'm sure you're aware. But like you, I really wouldn't wish it on any but my worst enemies."

Del gets up. Goes to the window to look out. "Where is he?"

"Patience, Del, sometimes it's late before he returns."

He turns. "Does he know what you are?"

(97) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

"I don't believe you. You'd have said that in the first place if it was true." The kid's eyes flash angrily. "Go in and tell him Del's here."

"Now Del, why would I want to go and do that even if he was here? If he wanted to see you, he'd have let you know."

Del looks at him with shock on his face. "If he could have, he would have, I know it. You have no idea what we've been through together, how much I love him and he loves me because of that." He walks up to Lenny. Pokes a finger in his chest. "Let me see him. Now."

Lenny laughs softly. Looks down at him. "You got gumption, for your size, I'll give you that. If you want to take a look, be my guest. There's no one here but me."

He leads them to the cabin. Opens the door. Stands aside while they enter.

"Pete?" Del looks up at him.

"I'll look. You keep our surly host company." He does. Searches the cabin. Steps out of the bathroom to look at Lenny. "Do you always use two toothbrushes?"

Lenny doesn't bat an eye. "For my lady friend."

Del shakes his head. "No. No 'lady friend'. No woman would let this place look like it does. There's no feminine touches here at all."

"Are you calling me a liar, kid?"

"Yes." Del stares at him defiantly. "Maybe I'm just a…a kid, as you put it, but I know. I remember how my mom was." He walks to the kitchen. "Look at this, no woman would let you get away with having only what's here. Not if she was at all involved with you. Involved enough to have her own toothbrush. I bet the bathroom's just as bad." He comes back. Stops in front of Lenny arms akimbo. "When's he due back?"

Lenny sighs. Glances at Pete who just shrugs.

"He doesn't know who he is, or what he is."

Del's eyes widen. "You know?"

Lenny moves around her. Sits on the edge of the sofa. "I've run into his kind before. I make it my business to know who my enemies are."

"But you...you let him live. You did, didn't you? You're not playing some cruel joke on me."

If Lenny's surprised Del knows what he is, he doesn't show it. "Not all of us are evil, Del, no matter what he's told you. He's alive. He'll probably be back soon."

Pete comes around the sofa. Looks down at Lenny. "Believe me we know there are good, decent Vampyres, and Trevor knows that as well. My lover is one and he's a friend of his, as well."

(96) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

Lenny watches from the depths of the trees. Evening. Sun nearly set. The sound of the cycle alerts him. Company coming but why?

It comes into view. Blonde male driving with a real skinny kid, from what he can see, behind him. They stop at the edge of the clearing.

His guest is gone at the moment. The one who named himself George. He had taken to hiking. Long walks. Trying to piece together flashes of memory but failing so far.

He listens as the couple talks quietly. But not so quietly that he can't hear them.

"After this we're going back," the blonde man says. "If he's not here we'll start again tomorrow."

The kid nods. "I'm not giving up, Pete."

The man pats his shoulder. Shakes his head. "I'm not expecting you to. I wouldn't if it was Vik missing, or Mychael. Someone has to know something."

They start towards the cabin.

Lenny steps silently towards them. Intercepting them.

"This is private property."

"We just have a question," the man says. "We're looking for a friend who's gone missing. We're very sure he had an accident and that someone found him."

"And didn't take him to the hospital?" Lenny raises an eyebrow questioningly.

The kid speaks up. "Have you seen him, or heard anyone talk about finding him. Please, it's important. If you have..."

"Who are you to this man?"

"We told you, friends," the man says, scowling. "All we want is to know where he is and if he's all right."

Lenny looks him over. "You look like a cop to me, so even if I had seen him, which I haven't, I for sure wouldn't be telling you."

"Me, a cop?" The man snorts in derision. "Far from it, buddy. Real far from it. I'm just helping Del here look for him."

"Why should I believe that?" Lenny crosses his arms over his chest. Stares hard at the man.

"He's here, isn't he, or was." The kid's eyes flick around. Looking for signs. Lenny sees he's not really a kid. Just looks like one, because of his size.

"Was, but he's not here now." Lenny says. Not a lie but not the truth either.

(95) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

(Del)

"How do we know...?"

"That it was him?" Pete stooped, picking up one of the smaller rocks to show me. There was paint in the long scratch across it. Paint the color of Trev's bike.

He squatted, examining the ground closely before standing again, his eyes moving back and forth slowly over the area between where we were and the river. Then he walked a few yards further down and stopped, beckoning me to join him.

"I think, I'm fairly certain, that he didn't go into the river. Obviously I'm no expert but that looks like blood to me."

I would have laughed if I hadn't felt so panicky. He of all people would know blood when he saw it—well him and Vik. What he said was blood was on a plant in the shade of one of the trees, well protected from view and the weather. The ground was dampish, as it had been all along the edge of the river. He knelt down on one knee, searching for something and nodded.

"A footprint, going that way." He pointed towards the access road that joined the highway. "It could be his, someone who found him, or nobody's in particular. But if I had to make a guess, from the depth of it, we can eliminate him. I'd be more inclined to think someone found him and carried him from here to their vehicle."

"Which means he could be anywhere out there." I swept my hand out, encompassing the area this side of the highway. "Or...or somewhere else entirely."

"Unfortunately, yes. Come on." He headed towards the road, watching the ground as he did. "There's another one, same shoe, just as deep." When we arrived at the edge of the road he paused and then smiled slightly. "See there? What does that tell you?"

I felt like a student taking a final exam as I looked at the footprint at the edge of the road. He waited patiently as he watched me.

"It's pointed away from the highway for one." Biting my lip I thought about that. "Wait... All right. If someone had a car here, or a truck, and they did have Trev, he must have opened the door to put him inside and a car door opens this way," I mimed it, "meaning the car had to be facing west, also away from the highway."

"Very good, Del. So, in theory, Trev went straight when the highway curved here to accommodate the side road and ended up down there. From where the blood was, I'd say he managed to get that far before he passed out. Then someone either saw him, or his bike, and came down to check things out, picked him up, and carried him to their car. Since the car was facing in that direction, the person had come off of the highway, heading west. I'm not sure how much that narrows our search but at least we have a starting point now."

(94) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

(Del)

"Logic dictates he went off the highway south of here," Pete said as we pulled out of Lecompte. When I asked why he explained, "North by much, and whoever snagged his bike would have headed up to Alexandria to sell the parts because it's a real city. Or I would have if it'd been me."

"How are we going to find the spot?"

"We'll start with any places the road curves significantly. If he was tired, he may not have seen it until too late."

"Like there?" I pointed to a place a few hundreds yards ahead of us.

"Exactly."

Pulling the bike on to the shoulder he climbed off, going to the edge to look down. "If it was here, there's nothing to show for it but I'll go down closer just in case."

A few minutes later he came back, shaking his head. I nodded. It would have been too easy, finding it on the first stop, though I had hoped.

We continued slowly down the highway, staying as close to the edge as possible. Two more stops, with no better results than the first one, and I was starting to wonder if we were on the wrong track. Pete must have been of the same opinion, because he pulled up to a spot where a side road entered the highway, telling me after this one we might just try walking the length back to Lecompte.

"At least," he pointed out as he got off the bike yet again, "we only have to check one side, since we can presume he was on his way back home when the accident happened, from the timeframe of the punks stopping at the scrap yard."

I watched as he stepped to the edge of the embankment.

"Let's hope it wasn't here, the river runs real close. If he ended up in it," he shook his head as he climbed down the embankment. A minute later he was back. "We may have lift off."

I shuddered. After what he'd said moments ago, I didn't like that idea at all. He moved the bike as close to the side of the road as possible, locked it, and I followed him down.

"Look there." He pointed.

I could see what he meant. A few feet from the edge of the river the rocks were torn up. Some of them scraped and others with the dirt side up. He nodded towards the embankment and I could see where something had been dragged up it.

(93) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

(Del)

"No one by his description at this one either," Pete said as he called the last hospital listed in the phone book. We'd split the list, hoping for something. Trev wasn't at any of them, hospitals or clinics, anywhere close to Lecompte.

"Now what?" I asked him, lying back on my bed staring up at the cracked ceiling.

"Now we get some sleep and in the morning we go searching for the crash site." He flopped down on the adjoining bed and looked over at me. "Del, we're going to find him one way or another."

I turned my head to glance at him. "How? Even if we do find where he crashed, we know he's not there now. He could be anywhere. If he's alive. Gods, please let him be alive and just lost or...or..."

"Or with someone who maybe found him. If he was conscious, it's quite possible, knowing him, that he refused to go to a hospital, especially since he would have been carrying his sword. That would be a bit hard to explain. He did have it with him, right?"

"Always." I sighed. "But who would let him make the decision if he was hurt as badly as the bike?"

"Think positive Del. If he was thrown from it he could have just sustained minor damages."

"Then why hasn't he called?"

"That, Del, we won't know until we find him. If he staggered away, well." His mouth tightened. "There's bayous out there as well as farm land, fields." He was looking at his iPhone as he talked, checking MapQuest or whatever. "A few scattered houses." 

"This is a wild goose chase, isn't it Pete?"

"Absolutely not! We know more than we did before we got here, and tomorrow we'll find where he crashed. Then we'll go from there." He snorted and I looked at him, wondering what was so amusing. "I can see us hiring out a bloodhound, just like in the movies, to track him."

"Actually, you know, that's not such a bad idea."

"Del, they need something of his to sniff, I think. You can't just say 'Find Trevor' and they take off." He thought about that. "On the other hand, if there's still any blood there..."

I nodded. I didn't want to talk about that, even though I knew it was a definite possibility. He reached across the space between our beds and patted my arm.

"We won't do him, or ourselves, any good if we don't get some sleep. So go shower and get to bed."

Managing a small smile I asked, "Is that an order?"

"Damned straight. And don't even think about whapping me upside the head young man."

I actually laughed then, looking at him as I slid off the bed. "If we were different people and the circumstances were different, I might take up that challenge."

He grinned. "That could be interesting. Now, off with you. And if I'm asleep when you come out, do not wake me. The alarm's set for six."

Twenty minutes later I was curled up, trying to sleep. I heard Pete say softly, "We're going to find him Del."

I prayed he was right.

(92) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

(Del)

"So this is the first place where someone used his cards," I said, looking at the shops on the main street of Lecompte.

"Yep. At a restaurant called,"—Pete checked the list—"Lea's, and for gas. We should check them out first, to see if it was him or someone else."

"Would they really remember someone from a few days ago?"

"Probably not but it's worth a try. Trevor's pretty distinctive. He'd stand out, especially in a small town like this, so at least we might be able to find out if he actually was the one using the cards."

I had to agree. We went to Lea's first. It was past lunchtime and the place was still busy. Something about their pies, from the sign I read. Pete found us seats at the counter and when the waitress came over he ordered us each a slice of pie, apparently their specialty. Then he asked her if she'd seen a man in here in the last week, tall, long black hair, with a fang earring—explaining that he had gone missing.

She said no but that she'd ask the others. By the time we'd finished she returned to tell us that no one had seen him. He thanked her and we went from there to the gas station.

The owner was an older man, dressed in well worn coveralls. He listened to Pete's description and shook his head.

"What was he driving, that might help."

Pete looked at me and I described Trev's cycle. By the time I'd finished the man was frowning.

"Hate to tell you, young man, but unless I miss my guess, that's the one a couple of punks tried to sell for parts at the scrap yard down the road a piece. From what Bobby Joe told me, it was so trashed there was nothing salvageable on it."

My heart sank. Pete gave my shoulder a quick squeeze before asking if there was a hospital close by. The man told us the nearest ones were in Alexandria, about fifteen miles away.

After thanking him, and getting the address of the scrap yard, we went there. Bobby Joe was able to give us a sort of description of the two dudes who had hauled the cycle in, in the back of their truck. Unfortunately he hadn't noted the license plate numbers, which made Pete growl, though under his breath so only I heard him.

It was Trev's bike, what was left of it.

"If he survived the crash he, had to have been in bad shape," Pete pointed out softly.

"I won't believe that he didn't. I can't believe he died. We have to go to the hospitals." I was close to tears but I wouldn't let them fall. Not yet. Not till we knew one way or the other.

"We'll call first, Del. No sense heading up there without knowing if anyone found him. My opinion, the fact that those punks had his bike says that he managed to walk away somehow." As we got on Pete's bike, he told me we were going to get a motel room for the night at least. Maybe longer, depending on what we learned.

(91) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

"On the run yourself?" His lips quirk in amusement. Perhaps they have something in common.

Lenny shrugs. "Not the way you mean it. No. As I said I'm a loner. Too many people in my life and I get claustrophobic. I like space around me that's my own. Hence my living out here in the middle of nowhere. I own all of this, several acres actually, and I'm not poor. I don't have to work so I don't."

"Inheritance or good investments?"

"A small inheritance that I managed to increase by putting it to work for me instead of spending it all on frivolities like a fancy residence or lots of toys I don't really need. I'm a simple man with simple wants—a place that's mine alone, my books, perhaps a friend or two to spend time with on occasion."

"And now an unexpected house guest, though not by choice."

"Ah, definitely by choice. I could have left you there for someone else to find. Or taken you to the nearest hospital, despite the fact that I thought that you're carrying such a strange weapon might have brought you questions you'd rather not have answered. Of course at the time I didn't know you couldn't have anyway."

"Which brings up another question. You tossed my clothes, you said. Did you keep the sword?"

Lenny nods. Gets up to go to his bedroom. Returns shortly with it and a long leather coat. "I suspect if you hadn't been wearing this, you'd have been much worse off than you were." Lays it on the sofa. Hands him the sword. "Does this ring any bells?"

"No, not really." He stares at it. Runs his hands over it pensively.

"You're handling it as if it's an old and trusted friend, which I think it is from the age and condition. It's well used and well taken care of."

"But why? Why do I have it? What was I, am I, that I carried this, instead of say a gun or a knife, if I needed protection?"

"That we'll have to find out. I can tell you the blade is silver so it's not cheap, not by a long shot." Lenny's eyes are hooded as he gauges his guest's reaction.

"Silver? You're certain? What am I? Some nut who thinks werewolves exist? Isn't that what silver's for—to kill them?" He pauses thoughtfully, "Though that's silver bullets, usually."

"So you do remember your folklore." Lenny chuckles. "Silver bullets, full moon. I can see you now—stalking them down."

"Right. As if. Well, I hope not, anyways, I hope I'm not that crazy. I'd bet, once I get my memory back, I'll find out I was part of some Ren Faire Group, or hell maybe an actor. Not that that explains the silver blade unless I'm rich and was showing off." He stands. Twirls the sword. Lunges and slashes experimentally.

"You've got the moves. You know what you're doing. Does that strike any chords?"

"No." He sighs. Sits again. Lays the sword down between them.

"Look, don't give up hope. Something you say or do will bring everything back eventually."

"Perhaps. Unless whatever I don't want to remember is too bad or too painful. If that's the case, I suppose I'll just invent a new me and hope I don't run into someone who wants me in custody for some horrible crime. Or worse, dead."

Lenny looks at him. Pity in his eyes. Then grins. "Or a fiancé that you're running away from because you found out she was just after your fortune. It broke your heart and you've buried the pain by forgetting who you were."

"Oh, now that I like. Someone who wants me only for my money, not for this fabulous, if somewhat battered, body. People are like that. They're...they're only after... Shit. That sounds too familiar. Too damned familiar."

"Like something you'd have said?"

He nods slowly. "Yeah, I think so. But why?" 

(90) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

“You need a name. I can’t keep calling you ‘boy’.” Lenny looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I suppose.” He thinks about it. A name flashes in his mind. He tests it out. “George.”

Lenny laughs. “So you’re the smart one and I have the intelligence of a child.”

He frowns. Puzzled.

“Of Mice and Men. A great book by John Steinbeck. I take it you haven't read it, if you don't get the reference."

"Not that I remember." Said with a tight smile. "But that's a given. Hell, I don't even know if I've had any schooling."

"I'd say you have. You're too erudite sounding not to at least some education beyond the basics." Lenny goes to a shelf. Finds a book. Hands it to him. "Here. See if this rings any bells. It might be that you chose that name because of mine or it could just be coincidence."

He chuckles. "You're hoping this,"—he takes the book—"might push some button and make me remember something."

"You never know. Stranger things have happened. It's been a week and nothing else has triggered anything."

Nodding he asks, "Do you want me out of your hair, now that I'm back to normal? Well mostly normal. I guess the accident wasn't as bad as we thought, as fast as I've healed."

Lenny frowns in thought for a second. Smiles then. Shakes his head. "Not unless you want to. I sorta enjoy having company. It's been a while."

"Loner by choice or necessity? You've never said."

"A bit of both I guess. What with my bad reaction to the sun, and a general tendency not to like people all that much anyway, I prefer to be by myself most of the time."

"Speaking of which, I take it you have some sort of job to support yourself. But if you really meant it when you said I could stay, I should look for one too."

Lenny eyes him carefully. "Doing what?"

"Hell, I don't know. I don't even know what kind of area this is. But there has to be something. Maybe at a fast food..." His voice fades. He frowns sharply.

"Did that trigger something?" Lenny sits down. Watches him.

"For a second it did, but it's gone. Damn I hate this. I know things but not...specifics. I know about fast food joints and motorcycles and I realized immediately that it was strange that you didn't have a TV, but there's nothing in here," he taps his forehead, "that connects me to them. Even about bikes. I obviously rode one, since I crashed it, but I don't remember that, or where I was headed, or what happened that I ended up in the ditch where you found me. There's a whole world out there that I know about as if I'd read about it but never experienced it for myself. Why? Why?"

"If I had to guess," Lenny said, "I'd say you're running away from something and the crash is giving you the perfect reason to forget what that is. You did bang your head badly and your mind is using that as a defense against remembering, like it or not."

"That makes me feel just wonderful. If it's that, and not just crash-related amnesia, then it must have been something pretty damned bad." He rests his head in his hands. "Any reports of especially gruesome murders or some other criminal activity on the...oh, you wouldn't know without a TV or radio."

"No, but I do get into town. And since you showed up, I've actually been checking the papers for that—just in case. Harboring a serial killer isn't on the top of my list of things I particularly want to do."

He nods. Glances up as something hits him. "You've lost that Southern sort of backwoods way of speaking that you had when I first got here."

"Yes. Well that's because I don't need to pretend with you any more, the way I have to around the people I generally deal with. I don't want to stand out as different, and in this neck of the woods, unless I'm in Alexandria proper, speaking the King's English, and with a Northern accent, might draw unwanted attention to me. Does actually, as I found out when I first came to this area."

(89) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

(Del)

The steaks were sizzling, and Mychael and I had made salad, by the time Pete returned. From the look on his face I knew he'd found something. I just hoped it was enough.

Despite my impatience to know, Pete made us wait until we'd all gotten food and had found seats before telling us what he'd found.

"Trev's actually quite organized," he said, sounding a bit surprised. "He's got files for all his bills including the credit card ones. Once he gets back, Del, tell him to get a shredder though. There's info on them he probably wouldn't want getting out to some identity thief. But in this case, it's a good thing he doesn't have one. He's go two cards, both in his name so we now have the numbers. All we need is for Mychael to work his magic and see if he's used them since he left."

I had to smile when Mychael almost bounced in anticipation as he held out his hand for the copies of the statements Pete had brought back.

"Not till you eaten all your supper," Pete told him with a straight face.

With a roll of his eyes, Mychael went back to eating, muttering "Yes Daddy" under his breath, evoking laughs from the rest of us. He practically inhaled the his meal and then snagged the statements and headed inside.

I was beginning to worry that maybe Trev hadn't used his cards, which would still leave us at a dead end. Then Mychael returned with a puzzled look on his face.

"What's wrong," Vik asked.

"He's used them, or someone has. Honest opinion, I don't think it's him from the purchases that were made—all in the last day and a half. And not in one place or rather one town either." He rubbed his forehead between his fingers and thumb as he looked at what he'd printed out. "The first ones were made in a small town called Lecompte, about half a day's drive north-west of here, for food and gas. Then he, or someone, headed further north to Alexandria then Shreveport and beyond."

"What did they buy, besides what you said," Pete wanted to know.

"Umm, a couple of guns and ammo. There was a stop at a video store. It doesn't say what DVD's he bought, but there were ten of them, and then,"—he checked the list again—"a stop at the Alexandria Wal-Mart for an expensive camera and a few other electronics. In Shreveport it was more electronics." He listed them off.

"Then I know without a doubt it's not him using the cards," I told them. "He hates that kind of junk, or what he calls junk. I know most people don't think like that. Besides, why would he be heading north and not back here?"

"Good question Del. So we can presume that while he was in or around Lecompte, he either lost his wallet or it got stolen, or at least the cards got taken from it, since he's smart enough to report it if he knew they were missing. Or..."

Vik looked at me and I knew he didn't want to say what else was on his mind.

"Or," I said quietly, "he wasn't able to handle the Vampyre he was after and he's dead."

Vik nodded. "I'm sorry Del but that is a possibility."

"Well I won't know until I go there."

The men looked at me and shook their heads. "You're going to stay here. One of us will go instead," Pete said firmly.

"I'm not going to sit here and wait and wonder. If he is alive, and I can't believe he's not, in spite of the evidence, I need to find out what happened. Why he hasn't called."

I could see them trying to decide how to argue with me. I stared at each of them and restated adamantly that I was going to Lecompte.

"Alright Del. I can understand why you need to. Pete," Vik looked at him, "will you go with her? I would but I have something I need to do, and breaking Mychael free from his job right now would be difficult, with all he's dealing with there."

"Not a problem." Pete turned to me. "We'll leave first thing in the morning, and I mean early, like six. Pack up enough for a couple of days just in case, in a backpack. We'll take my bike."

I was almost tempted to salute him as he tossed out his orders, but nodded instead, glancing at Vik.

He smiled and shrugged, muttering, "That's our Pete."

Pete started to say something and then chuckled. "OK, so I'm in planning mode, shoot me. I get bossy when I am. Anyway, please,"—he stressed the word—"do as I asked, Del."

"Not a problem but you keep on giving orders I'm liable to slap you up side the head," I replied, grinning slightly.

"Now that I'd like to see," Mychael said, earning him a laugh from all of us.

(88) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

(Del)

Mychael leaned back, looking at me. "Does he have and use credit cards?"

I had to think about that. Most times when we went out, Trev paid in cash but... "Yes, I know he does because he bought a couple of my paintings with one."

"I don't suppose you know if it's in his name, or even better does he keep receipts?"

"Gods, Mychael, I don't have a clue. If he does, they're at his place."

"Do you have a key, Del," Pete asked.

"Sure. Why? Oh, you're going to look?"

"No, I just wanted to add it to my collection." He grinned, holding out his hand. "Any particular place I should be searching? A desk, a lockbox?"

"The desk probably. Oh." A thought occurred to me. "Or in his closet. I've seen him get stuff from there, like his gun, so maybe there's a safe or something."

"Good deal. I'll be back soon. Meanwhile you all...do something." Pete laughed as he left.

"Is he usually that cheerful," I asked.

Both men grinned. "Only when he gets to do something at least vaguely illegal that won't get him dead in the process," Vik replied. "Or when, umm, well never mind on that. Back to Trev. Does he have any friends you know of that he might have told where he was going?"

I arched an eyebrow in amusement at the 'never mind' then shook my head at his question. "As far as I know only the four of us are his friends here in town. Well and Dagger but I don't think he counts."

"Dagger? Trev has a pet I take it, unless he's naming his weapons."

"Dagger's a ferret that a friend gave him. Cute as a button but Trev wouldn't let me name him that. So, anyways, that's it on the friends list, I'm afraid." I frowned. "That's rather sad when you think about it."

"Yeah, it is but given what he does, it's not too surprising. How about out of town? Anyone you can think of? Because it's possible that was the one who called him."

"There's another Dhampir named Daniel, I think, but honestly Vik I doubt it was him, because Trev would have said so. He knows I know the name. Besides, even if it was I don't know where he lives." I was getting closer to tears with each question he asked, realizing how little I knew about Trev and that none of it was any help.

Vik must have known how I felt because he gave me a hug, saying, "We were just about to grill some steaks when you called. Why don't you come help? It'll help take your mind off things for bit, until Pete gets back."

(87) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

(Del)

"So I'm worried, Vik." I'd called him because he was the only person I knew who knew Trev.

"When was the last time you saw him, Del?"

"Three, no four days ago. He was going off to help a friend with...well you know." I hated saying it because Vik was a Vampyre too, even though he was the only one Trev had any trust for.

Vik chuckled softly. "I know he hunts Vampyres, Del. But why are you worried? That's not such a long time if he went out of town."

"Because I can't raise him on his cell. He always answers, or texts back if he's too busy or...or can't talk. Except of course when he was in Chicago and in trouble there."

"That's what you're afraid of isn't it, that he's run into another one like Dalca."

"That or..." I bit my lip. "Vik, he's afraid now. What if that made him loose his edge and whoever he was after got the best of him?"

Vik sighed. "Del, why don't you come over? It'll be easier to talk about this face to face."

"Then you think..." I could feel my heart drop to my shoes.

"I don't know what to think, which is why I want you here." He gave me his address and we hung up.

Twenty minutes later Pete was letting me into their house. He gave my shoulder a squeeze, telling me things were going to be okay. Vik greeted me, nodding to the space on the sofa beside him.

Once I was seated he asked me to tell him everything I knew—so I did, as little as it was.

"He didn't even give you a hint where he was headed?" Vik asked when I'd finished.

"No. He said it would take him less than a day to get there though. So, since he was on his bike, how far away could it be?"

Pete laughed. "Knowing him, he probably rides all out, Del, so it could be quite far."

"Let's see if we can at least get a range," Mychael said, getting up from where he'd been sitting across from us to go to their computer. "Did he leave in the morning, Del?"

"Umm hmm. Early, a bit after seven."

"Alright. Presuming he wanted to get where he was going by mid afternoon, which I think is logical, that would be at the most an eight hour ride. So..." he studied the map he'd pulled up, "Austin, Dallas, Little Rock, Memphis, Atlanta, Tallahassee, or any points in-between. That's a lot of area to cover to look for him unless we can narrow it down some."