Trevor (Thirteen Guests)

Trevor

April 20th

Trevor laid Saul's clothes out and then moved to the bathroom to run his bath. After more than fifty years, the rituals had become a routine.

He watched the steam curl from the tub. It reminded him of the way the fog had drifted up from the river on a cold morning. It was such a short time in his life, yet it felt like those had been his defining days.

Back then, he'd climb out of his bedroll as the sun rose, the sky to the east still blushing like a bride. He'd make a pot of coffee, eat whatever he had on hand, then ready to start a day of panning. Just him and Mother Nature; the gurgling water and the occasional shine of gold.

When the bathtub was full, he returned to Saul's room and woke him. The vampire groaned and rolled over.

"Master, your water is getting cold."

"Then warm it up for me," Saul murmured.

Despite the order, Trevor knew he'd be out of bed in a moment. As soon as he was in the tub he'd be wide awake and spouting orders.

In the interim, Trevor hurried to Callise's room and knocked. "Mistress. It's morning." Her reply was a moan that he took for admittance. Inside, she lay under a heap of blankets. Her hair spread out on a fluffy pillow.

"Mistress," he repeated. "It's morning."

"Fine. Fine. Run the bath."

Trevor ducked into her private bathroom and turned the water on. Callise liked it cooler than her husband, but no less full. Trevor split his attention between it, and listening for the sound of Saul's voice. The cool cold water took him back to memories of his past. He'd lived there in the mountains for only a year, writing home to his mother and his girl when he had news to share. Things had been great, until the pale man showed up.

It was late and a thunderstorm rumbled to the east. He'd lain in his bedding, sheltered by a lean-to, and tried to sleep. The air was heavy with the expectation of coming rain. The tension seeped into him and left him too on edge to really settle.

He'd felt the stranger before he saw him. He couldn't explain it, but the hair on the back of his neck stood to attention, and he knew that someone – or something – was approaching. He was damned if he was going to wait for it.

He clambered out of bed, grabbed his gun, and shoved his way outside. At first he didn't see anything but then, among the rocks, there was the flash of a pale face.

"Who is it?" he called gruffly. "I've got a gun, mister, and I don't want no trouble."

From the gloom, he soon picked out the man's shape; pale face and hands, long dark hair, a ratty coat, dark clothing, and naked feet. The man lurched forward and Trevor shivered, as if he was seeing something otherworldly. He called again, but the man kept coming. Unreasonable fear rose, and finally, when Trevor could make out the man's face and dark hungry eyes, he fired.

The gun blast echoed off the rocks. He saw the man jerk from the impact of the ball, saw him stumble back. Only he didn't fall. He snarled and charged.

"Trevor!" Saul's voice brought him back to the present. "Where the blazes is he?"

Trevor shut off Callise's water and hurried back to his master's room. Saul was out of the tub, swathed in a towel and holding out his pale blue shirt and dark blue tie. "Do you really think these go together?"

He obviously did, or he wouldn't have laid them out, but he knew better than to say so. "I'll find a new one, master."

"I should think. Together they are monochrome. There's no contrast." Saul tossed the tie to the floor and busied dressing. Trevor brought two more and let the vampire have his pick. It was easier than trying to guess.