Rare Blood

Chapter Forty-One: Rattled

Perfect, everything's perfect, Cyrus thought as he placed the ring in the front pocket of his jeans, and surveyed the result of his efforts.  Just about every surface in the bedroom was covered with flowers. He wanted the night to feel magical so he used loose petals to create a path all the way up from the front door, then he tossed more all around the room. He then placed the arrangements that came in vases on the dresser and nightstands and throughout the rest of the house. It wasn't until there was nothing left to do, but wait for Faye, that it all sank in unnerving him.

He wanted to call Elsie and find out how much longer they would be, but he didn't want to intrude if Faye was having a nice time. He didn't want her to feel like she had to rush home every time she did something without him, but in his anxious state he couldn't wait inside for her.  He bailed hoping the night would offer something to distract him until Faye came back.

As Cyrus sat overlooking the water from the back deck, he remained unimpressed with the usually stunning display of stars, and the cool air seemed to be making him twitchy instead of relaxing him, as he intended it to. He was anything but distracted. His mind was stuck somewhere between trying not to think about how he was going to ask Faye to join him, and discovering, now that he was out of the bedroom, that it looked more like a floral colored confetti bomb exploded all over everything instead of the enchanting backdrop he'd been aiming for.

Once Faye was there, in front of him, he would feel better about what he was asking, but there was nothing he could do about the flowers he thought perfect only minutes before. He took a deep breath trying to let go of the thoughts only to have them replaced with something so absurd he actually had to get up and walk around to move past it. There was no way he would ever use a line as cornball as, be my vampire bride, but he couldn't seem to escape the endless stream of ridiculousness from running through his brain like ticker-tape.

He pulled the ring from his pocket and watched it sparkle in the moonlight, hoping it would make up for the fact that this wasn't gonna be a normal proposal. Cyrus wasn't asking for Faye's hand in marriage, he wanted her hand in death, and that was rattling him.

As time went on, he became increasingly agitated with everything. He was worried about Faye, and how she was going to receive him. He became fearful of the chance that she might refuse him, and at the same time, he was fearful that she might not. He didn't know if he would be capable of drinking so much of her blood that she would die. He didn't know if he could listen to Faye's heart as it slowed and stopped while he was at her vein. Not to mention, no one really knew how her body would react, how being a Rare Blood was going to factor in.

But if it all ends as planned, he thought, trailing off with the possibilities.

Faye would be his forever, really his. He would be her maker, they would be bound through eternity, no matter what.  And, the fact that she is what she is, would no longer be a threat.  Nothing would. He wouldn't have to worry about her, although he suspected he still would.

Worrying about Faye was more instinctual than a conscious decision. He really couldn't help it. And when midnight approached with no sign of her, that worry dominated everything else. It broke the last of his will and he called Elsie.

By twelve-thirty Cyrus was like a caged animal pacing back and forth anxiously awaiting a chance to break free. He had dialed Elsie several times and kept getting her voice mail and Faye didn't have a phone. He'd seen to that thinking he was helping by preventing her from calling someone she shouldn't, it was stupid.

"Stupid," he mumbled as Elsie's generic greeting picked up yet again. He hung up and gave up trying not to panic. He called Louis. When that call went unanswered, he knew something wasn't right, he was sure of it and he took off on foot towards Howahkan's.