Rare Blood

Chapter Twenty-One: A Little Past and Present

Faye and Cyrus checked into a hotel. The room had a dull gold and cream stripped wall paper and dark green carpet. There were two full size beds covered in outdated floral bedspreads. There was one dresser which had a lamp and a television sitting on it, and there was a small round table with two chairs right inside the door. It wasn't pretty but it seemed clean.

Cyrus shut her in while he went to get the bags out of the truck. She offered to help, but he said he would rather she stay inside.   He was back in no time anyway.  He sat everything on one of the beds, with a black duffle he must have had in the truck because he didn't buy it on their Target excursion.

After securing the locks on the door he took a chair from the table and wedged it up under the door knob. He was real serious about it, adjusting it a few times.

"I think you got it," she said, mocking him.

He turned to her, "This wouldn't stop me from getting in so it won't stop someone else, but it might buy me a precious second, so zip it," he said, running a hand through his hair. He seemed stressed and she wanted to calm him down so she tried for logic saying, "I think you might be overreacting a little. I mean, it took twenty years for one of you to notice me so why do you suddenly think every vampire that smells me will come after me."

He sat on the bed with the bags and unzipped the duffle, "I don't want to take any chances. They will come looking for us when we don't show up, and I don't want anything to happen to you," and the deep blue depths of his eyes threatened to swallow her.  She felt the urge to go to him, and as her weight shifted in preparation to follow through he pulled a gun out.

Time froze as he held the handle out to her saying, "I want you to take this."

Faye had seen riffles up close, but never a real gangster looking handgun. The thing was flat black and was the meanest looking gun she had ever seen. He was holding it out to her; he wanted to give it to her. She recoiled, "No."

He got up and took her hand, she tried to pull back but he held firm and placed the handle against her palm closing her fingers around it. It was icy and hard and she said, "I don't want it-"

"I wish that was an option, but I can not have you unable to protect yourself. I was going to give it to you right before we got to my cabin, but I want to take a shower and unless you want to sit in the bathroom while I do, you have to take this."

"Cyrus, I thought you said the only way to kill a vampire was by de... decapitation."

"It's loaded with hollow-cavity bullets. The expansion and fragmentation they produce is unparallel in a small gun. You aim for the body because it's a bigger target and you fire repeatedly. It won't kill my kind, but a few rounds in the chest would drop whatever was coming at you long enough for you to get away," and when he let go of her hand she felt the weight of the gun, it was heavy. He called it small, but to her it might as well have been a bazooka.

He smiled wryly looking at her and said, "It's ready to go. All you have to do is aim and pull the trigger." On that note she carefully put it down on the table. "I've never fired a gun before."

"Aim and pull the trigger. We'll have target practice when we get to my cabin. It'll be fun."

"No Cyrus, it won't. Giving me a gun is crazy."

"No it’s not.  Leaving you completely defenseless is crazy," he countered seriously.

“You're like a rollercoaster I can't get off," she said, rubbing her eyes.

"Is that good or bad," he asked puzzled.

"I mean you pull me in then douse me with ice water. I've had so many ups and downs today I can't think straight."