Rare Blood

Chapter Seven: Blood Bank

CHAPTER SEVEN

Cyrus dropped Faye off at a small farm about ten minutes from his place. He knew it was wrong to plan on seeing her again, but he really didn't care. It had been decades since he felt a real attraction to anyone and he wasn't going to turn his back just because she was human. He'd been with a few human women, but he didn't feel for them, not like he did about Faye. He wanted to make sure it was safe for her and he had a few things to handle before it was.

He needed to clean up his place, deal with Roxy, and then he needed to feed. First thing when he walked in the door he called Roxy, but she didn't answer. He was sick of her shit and he needed to set up a face to face so he could explain he wasn't going to be responsible for her anymore. She'd been a Vampire for thirty years and was still more trouble than most newly turned. He was through with it. There are only so many times he can be expected to forgive her. He wanted her stuff out of his house; he wanted to cut all ties with her.

Cyrus spent a good amount of time cleaning his car and his bathroom making sure there were no traces of Faye's blood left on anything. The stuff smelled magical and was extremely easy to pinpoint, even a tiny drop stood out. She didn't smell like anything he had ever come across which made the predatory piece of his brain demand he have her. However, Cyrus wanted more than blood from her. How much more, he wasn't sure, and until he figured it out he wouldn't drink from her.

His kind regularly took human lovers and used them for blood. They would feed them a few drops of their blood after sex, take what they needed while the person was passed out and not think twice about it. He found the thought of using Faye that way callous, and the more he thought about it the angrier he became at Roxy. Thinking about what Roxy did to her had him wanting to go find Faye... just to be close to her so nothing else could hurt her.

Cyrus showered, dressed, and unsuccessfully tried Roxy again. He knew she was avoiding him. What a child, he thought as he got into his car to take care of his thirst.

Cyrus got his blood from a Vampire run blood bank. He lucked out having one only a half hour car ride from him. He could even run the distance in a matter of minutes if needed, but he liked to drive. The blood banks were kind of like red crosses where people came in off the street to donate. Little did they know the blood was turned over to Vampires instead of a hospital. The banks were Vampire run and the blood wasn't cheap, but Cyrus had the money to pay for it and he liked not having to hunt.

The particular bank he went to was set up nicely. There were two buildings. One that unknowing humans actually worked Monday thru Friday taking the blood and another a few miles away that looked like a storage warehouse where the Vampires went to get the blood. Cyrus had a membership which meant he could show up whenever.

The inside of the building was set up like a bunch of indoor storage units. Members had key cards to swipe allowing them entry to a unit. The key card was programmed with a series of unique numbers that identify the Vampire and type of blood he or she desires. Once the card is swiped and the door is closed a tubing system like one would see at an actual bank releases the type of blood requested per the card holders id number. The tube system is heated so the blood can be stored cold and delivered at the ninety-eight degrees it would likely be if taken right from the source.

All of the rooms are equipped with a couch, a reclining chair, and flat screen television. There is a wet bar in every one with a variety of glasses to drink from. Basically everything one could possibly need for the short period of time they will stay. From the time you enter the room it takes one minute for your blood to arrive. Cyrus prefers type O because there is no A or B antigens on the surface of the red blood cells. Vampires can taste the difference and tastes vary, but if you're desperate it really doesn't matter what type, it all replenishes the same.

When his pint arrived he poured it into a tumbler. He put the empty cartridge back in the return tube and hit the button for it to be disposed of. Cyrus is older so a pint will feed his cells for three to four days, so long as he eats in-between.

When the glass was empty he sent it back the same way he did the empty cartridge and left. He got back into his sixty-nine Camaro and glanced at his phone to see if Roxy had called. No missed calls and it was seven pm. The blood would take a little to warm through him so he decided to head to Roxy's apartment. By the time he got there he would be feeling slightly euphoric and less likely to let her get under his skin. Unfortunately, when he got to Roxy's there was no sign of her.

He really wanted to cut her loose before he started his pursuit of Faye. He didn't want to risk having Faye over and Roxy showing up. He couldn't trust Roxy to leave Faye alone.

He went back to his house to see if Roxy had showed, but she hadn't. If he didn't reach her soon he was going to pack the stuff she had at his place and leave it at her apartment with a damn note.

He sat on his couch and turned on the TV, but found himself wondering what Faye was doing. Cyrus was at a loss for what was going on in his brain. He couldn't seem to get the girl out of his head for more than a few minutes and the more he thought of her the more he wanted to see her.

    Unable to stand it any longer he got in his truck and he drove over to Faye's. She wasn't home and for some reason that made him very anxious. He found it impossible to do anything other than wait for her even though it made him feel pathetic.