14 - ‘Come gentle night…’

When Kemp said nothing in reply, Trevor was tempted to just let the kid be and leave. Only the fact that he might be signing the kid’s death warrant if he did that made him try one more time. “Do you have a name,” he asked, “or do I just call you Kid?”

“Kemp. Kemp Marston.”

“OK, Kemp it is, though I was kind of looking forward to calling you Kid. It fits the way you’re acting.”

“Meaning what?” Kemp asked, suddenly angry at this man who presumed to try to tell him what he should be doing.

“Meaning,” Trevor replied, fingering his vampyre fang earring, “that you have to start growing up and accept your fate. What you are is not going to vanish just because you want it to, or are afraid of it. You have untapped powers in you, as all dhampir do, that can be used to rid the world of the kind of vermin we dealt with tonight.”

Trevor shook his head when Kemp looked away, staring off into space as if he wasn’t there. But he obviously wasn’t ready to give up yet.

“What do you think would have happened if they hadn’t run into you, and I hadn’t been in the neighborhood? Those three would have gone on feeding off innocent people, undoubtedly killing at least a few of them, possibly even turning one or two to join their little coven. Is that what you want to see happen kid?”

“Kemp,” he growled. “Not kid.” He turned to look at Trevor. “This thing, this need to kill them that I’ll have if I allow what I am to take hold… What’s to prevent me from trying to slay my father, my brother, all the friends of my father’s that I grew up around?”

“I’m presuming you have a conscience, Kemp, and a working, probably inquiring mind. Your conscience will say, ‘What if?’ and your mind will ask, ‘How can I find out if this one should die or not’.”

“But you said you didn’t question until just recently. It sounds as if it took you that long, however long, to learn to do that.”

Trevor smiled bitterly. “Yes and no. My hatred came from my childhood when my father tried to kill me because of what I am, and killed my mother in the process. After that I think I didn’t really have a conscience, just a burning desire to destroy every vampyre in existence.” He stared at the ground for a long while before continuing. “Then, just recently, I met one that I planned on killing. He managed to convince me that he at least had a decent streak in him. It didn’t slow me down though. Not until I slew one who I found out soon after was truly a good…person.”

Kemp watched him as he talked, seeing the pain on his face. “And then what happened?”

13 - ‘Come gentle night…’

“Stupid kid, I thought I warned you about being out after dark.”

Kemp began to shake as the reality of what had happened took hold. He looked up at the man and found his gaze caught by deep lavender eyes. The man held out a hand and hesitantly Kemp took it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.

“At least you used your head finally.” The man laughed at his own joke as he sheathed his sword and then looked Kemp over appraisingly.

“What’s wrong?” Kemp asked, not dropping his eyes. “Oh, and umm, thank you for, you know.”

“For saving your life? Think nothing of it. It gave me a chance to rid the world of a trio of lowlifes.”

“You mean vampyres.”

The man chuckled. “Glad you realize what they were. I was beginning to wonder just how stupid you are, all things considered.”

“Oh I knew alright, well once they attacked you.” Kemp turned, looking for someplace to sit before he fell down. He wasn’t that certain his legs would hold him up much longer. There was a small fountain in the center of the courtyard and he staggered to it, collapsing on the edge.

The man joined him, resting one foot on the rim. “Your first time being in on a kill?” Kemp nodded and the man looked puzzled. “What about your father?”

“You’re kidding. I’d never kill him or my brother. Damn. Believe it or not they’re good…well you know, people, vampyres, whichever.”

The man paused before responding, his thoughts obviously turning inwards for a moment. “Yes,” he said softly, “there are a few of those. Though not the ones we dealt with tonight.”

“Can I ask,” Kemp said hesitantly, “are you a dhampir?”

“You really don’t know do you? In fact you didn’t know those three were vampyres until after they dragged you in here.”

Kemp shook his head. “I haven’t…I don’t want to let that part of me out. I’m afraid of what will happen if I do.”

“You learn to control it. If you’re smart you learn that from the beginning. If you’re like me, well let’s just say it took a long time for me get past the idea that the only good vampyre was a dead one.” He sat down beside Kemp. “I’m Trevor by the way, and if you want, I can help you become what you are destined to be.”

12 – ‘Come gentle night…’

Some people just don’t listen. I was enjoying a quiet commune with nature in the courtyard when I heard voices. Felt the presence of both enemies and another dhampir.

OK, so I wasn’t exactly communing. More like looking for the resting place of a vampyre I’d followed here just before sun-up this morning. I’d been too far behind him to see exactly where he vanished to but I knew it was somewhere close.

Anyway, I heard the voices and figured maybe the dhampir had more on his hands than he could probably deal with alone. When I saw who it was I for damned sure knew he couldn’t. Stupid kid. Probably thought they were after his body not his head.

So I invited them into my lair, so to speak. They followed quickly, their leader dragging the kid with him. Shoving him hard when they got into the courtyard. Laughing when the kid stumbled and fell on hands and knees.

The two others circled to each side of me. They lunged at me with hands now turned to claws. One wasn’t too happy when I cut his off. Howled a lot. Noisy bastard. I whirled fast in time to avoid more than a serious gash to my arm from the other one. Ducked low. Brought my sword up fast. The silver did its work. More fucking howling. You’d think being a vampyre they’d have hissed. But they usually don’t when in pain.

As they bled profusely I turned to see what the leader was up to. He had the kid pulled back against his legs, one clawed finger pressed to his jugular.

“Stop right there or he dies,” the fucker said. A drop of blood appeared on the kid’s throat.

I shrugged. “No skin off my nose. Don’t even know him.” Smiled tightly as I moved towards the pair.

“Mine either,” the vampyre said as he pressed his claw deeper.

The kid suddenly grew some balls. Twisted hard away. Slammed his head back into the vampyre’s groin. Hell that had to have hurt. Even my balls shriveled as the bastard bent over gasping for breath. A second later breathing became academic as he turned to ash. I checked on the other two. Put them out of their misery.

Then went to see how the kid was doing.

11 - ‘Come gentle night…’

Kemp lost track of the time as he watched everything going on in the club. When the band came on stage he listened avidly, soaking up the music. The singer was, in his opinion, fantastic. If he could ever be even half that good he’d be happy.

After the first beer he decided to switch to soda, not liking the faint buzz the alcohol had given him. He’d had beer before, always with the same results and had long ago decided it really wasn’t for him.

After the band finished its second set he suddenly realized that it was late, and dark outside. He pushed away from the bar, stopped long enough to tell Sinclair and a couple of the waiters he’d met that he was leaving and then walked out onto the noisy, crowded street.

“Yes!” he almost shouted, now that he could express his feelings at finding a job so quickly. He pumped his fist in the air causing a couple of tourists to move warily out of his way. I knew I was right coming down here. And soon I’ll be able to pay my own way, but damn, first I need to go shopping. Not tonight though, it’s too late.

Turning the corner he started up the street that led back to the B&B. As he walked he started humming one of the songs the band had played, almost skipping along to the beat of it, oblivious to everything around him.

“Well, well, what have we here?”

The harsh voice brought Kemp back to reality. Ahead of him stood two men. The one who had spoken smirked at his surprise. “Looking for us?”

Kemp’s hands fisted as he momentarily stood his ground. “Not really.”

“Now why don’t I believe that?” The man took two steps forward and Kemp whirled around, ready to run, only to find a third man behind him.

“Where’s your weapon boy?”

“Weapon?” Kemp was now thoroughly confused.

“I think they mean something like this,” someone said quietly from the shadowed entrance to a courtyard between two of the buildings. Something silver flashed momentarily as the man added, “Shall we take this somewhere less public, gentlemen?”

The tallest of Kemp’s three assailants nodded. “Two for the price of one, I like that idea.” He strode forward, grabbing Kemp’s arm to pull him into the gloom, his two compatriots right behind them.

10 - ‘Come gentle night…’

Sinclair chuckled. “Word of advice for the next time, never say you need a job. It makes you sound desperate.” Resting his elbows on the bar he said softly, “You’re real pretty. Do you think you can fend off guys that will for damned sure come on to you?”

“Yes sir. I’ve been doing it forever.”

“Kinda figured that would be the answer. Question. Why the hell do you want to work in a place like this anyway, when you’ll have to deal with that a lot?”

Kemp glanced towards the small bandstand at one end of the room before looking back at Sinclair. “Because, well…”

Sinclair obviously caught the look and shook his head slightly. “Don’t tell me you’re a musician trying to work your way into a gig? What instrument do you play?”

“I sing actually,” Kemp replied almost defiantly.

“You any good?”

Kemp shrugged. “Some people think so.”

“Other than family?”

With a small laugh Kemp said, “Since the only family I have is my brother that would be a ‘yes’.” There was no way he was going to mention the rest of his family. The part that resided in a large manor house thousands of miles from here.

“Next question, your ID’s from Washington. Are you a runaway?”

“No sir. My brother knows I’m here, if that’s what your asking.”

“And he knows, not to put too fine a point on it, what you are?”

“Yes sir and he’s got no real problem with it.”

Sinclair nodded and seemed to come to a decision. “Stop calling me ‘sir’, Kemp. Boss works better.”

Kemp’s face lit up in a wide smile. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. You’ll start tomorrow, bussing. If you can handle that, and once you get to know the place and the customers, we’ll see about letting you wait tables.” He shot Kemp a look. “Don’t place your hopes on getting to sing here though. We’ve got a fine band and their singer is very good, and not willing to share the stage.”

“Thank you sir, umm I mean boss.”

“Welcome. Be here at five sharp. Wear black slacks and a white shirt. Generally you’ll start as six but there’s the usual paperwork to fill out and all that jazz. Now I’d better get back on the job before my bartender claims he’s being over-worked. Feel free to stick around and get the lay of the land. And welcome aboard.”