Re-adjusting to this more modern world was--trying. Not so much had changed over the last few decades that Donovan could not easily integrate, but the insistence of Ruben and some colleagues he’d become re-acquainted with to use this thing on his desk was testing his patience. His servant must have thought the book he’d purchased to accompany it was infinitely amusing, as well.
Computers for Seniors for Dummies? The title didn’t even make sense. He refused to read it, refused to debase himself in such a manner. In fact, the taunting monitor and tower that took up most of the space could be tossed in the garbage for all he cared. Countless centuries of the hand-printed word had served him and the rest of society just fine and it would continue to do so.
A long sigh escaped his lips, he needed a moment of reflection, a moment to collect himself and possibly even check on Gabriel. He allowed his eyes to slide closed, focusing on the bond between them. Gabriel was distressed, upset, but was currently alone. Donovan felt comfortable enough with that fact to initiate contact with him, allowing the touch to his mind to be felt.
Now that there was no need to hide himself from Gabriel, this game would become far more interesting.
“Who’s there?” Gabriel called out aloud, the words echoing back in his mind as if they were in the same room. Donovan had brief impressions of a cramped apartment, and slender fingers pulling aside a window curtain as Gabriel peered outside.
“Gabriel, you were distressed, what happened this evening?” He relaxed back in his chair, focusing all his attention on Gabriel.
“Where are you?” Gabriel countered with his own question, evading him. He was understandably alarmed.
“I am at home,” he replied, he was amused at his attempts to evade, “where did you expect me to be?”
“How are you doing this?” Gabriel demanded, “and how did you--how did you get into my dreams?” He was of course referring to their first encounter, which he’d clearly come to remember in full detail.
“So many questions, if you answer my single question I will answer all of yours. Does that sound fair?” One way or another, Donovan would get an answer.
He got another impression of Gabriel double checking the locks on his front door, as if somehow that would protect him. “We hunted,” he finally answered in a clipped tone, perhaps hoping Donovan would leave his mind in peace if he kept his responses short.
There was silence and Gabriel immediately knew that his answer was insufficient.
“It sucked, alright? Happy? We hunted, it didn’t pan out, and I couldn’t do it. Now leave me alone,” there was just a subtle note of anger in his tone.
“You were not injured,” Donovan sighed and changed the subject, “as to your dreams and how I'm doing this, we are connected, bound by blood. Just as you are connected to me, I am connected to you. If I focus, I can follow that thread and speak with you.”
“Why?” Gabriel tried to disguise the panic in his voice, but failed miserably, “just break it. End it. If you do, we can forget this. I won’t have to…” He trailed off, as if finishing the thought actually hurt.
“You read my letter, you know it is not as simple as that. You are fortunate that I am the one you are connected to. You will not be a feral creature, consumed with hunger, you will not be trapped within your mind, screaming to get out. You have a master.” The word master didn't project ownership, merely a connection.
“You’re a monster,” Gabriel answered, “even if you’re right, and I’m bound to become one sooner or later, I won’t let you be the reason. I won’t kill people, and I’m not going to be like that pack of bloodsuckers we had to stake today. The next time I see you, I’m ending this.”
“A pack? Oh, Gabriel, you won't become like them, not with me. Perhaps if you had another, if you were abandoned like they were. You will still be you. Drinking from humans, that is a necessity, but perhaps after your first kill we can forego that for a time and you may drink from me. I will not force you to kill, it will be your decision when it happens.” Donovan was quite amused with the situation, with Gabriel’s attitude, it would make everything that much more interesting.
“It’s not going to happen.” There was a stubborn finality in those words. He seemed so confident. If Donovan couldn’t read Gabriel’s deeper thoughts, he might even believe him.
“Very well, if that is what you choose to believe. You may have as much time as you need to come to terms with your situation. I will be here to support you, to give you what you need. You're not weak asking for help, you're not weak in relying on someone else. I know it's difficult but I am not like those creatures you have hunted and I am not like that thing who gave you its blood as a child.” He would build Gabriel back up, he would see his new fledgling become more, it would just take time. A commodity of which they both now had plenty of.
Donovan slowly withdrew from Gabriel’s mind, enough to let the young man feel more at ease. They would talk again, and very likely within the week, face-to-face. In the meantime, he would give Gabriel some semblance of peace while he addressed more pressing issues. Fledgling packs in his city were a grave concern, and so was the fact that Ruben had spent the last half hour gathering a glass and bottle of blood-wine. It should not take nearly that long to accomplish such a simple task. No more than ten minutes, perhaps it was time he found another servant. He was going to need to take a trip to the slave bazaar. Good servants were bred and trained, Ruben had been quite accomplished in his prime, but looking at him now one would never have guessed he had been trained properly. Usually a good servant was rewarded with becoming a vampire but Ruben was far too old for that now. Far too old, and far too difficult.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Ten minutes passed, and there was still no sign of Ruben. He would have to find the old man himself, perhaps he had broken himself in his old age, had a nasty fall. All the more reason to acquire a replacement. Perhaps a more observant one.
“Master,” Ruben’s voice called out, faint but discernible to Donovan’s senses, “I’ve thrown out my back!”
He sighed heavily, following his scent to the wine cellar, “how, pray tell, did you throw out your back while procuring a bottle of wine?” He gazed down at the man dispassionately, now he would have to take him to see a doctor.
The old man gave a pitiful groan, seemingly unable to stand from his position at the foot of the stairs. “I d-dropped my handkerchief, and when I knelt to pick it up, it simply happened. I don’t think I shall be able to properly dispose of your evening meal tonight. I apologize profusely, master.”
Donovan couldn't help but look put out as he picked Ruben up and carried him upstairs, “I suppose I shall have to take you to a doctor as well.”
Ruben maintained the most dignified expression possible for an invalid old man being carried like an infant, “I had hoped to attend an auction tomorrow, but now it appears that will not be in the cards. There’s a delightful bowl there, master, and--”
“No.” He said firmly, “can you walk or must I carry you to the car?”
“I think I may be able to walk,” Ruben replied in a quiet voice, and then even more so, adding “it really is a lovely bowl. An antiquity, really.”
“How many times must I say no? Perhaps if you had not injured yourself I would allow it but you do realize you are spending my money, do you not?”
“I have the catalog in my quarters, it’s wildly under-valued. Aztecs would perform sacrifices with it, and their enemy’s lives would be prolonged for hours if one simply placed their heart in the bowl. Master, this is an investment, not a frivolous purchase. For you.” Oh how transparent that lie was. That a man his age could beg so pitifully was almost amusing.
“And how is this for my benefit?” He placed him back on the ground, supporting him, “now, come, let's go take you to a doctor, perhaps they can drug you enough that you will be less difficult.”
Through the labored breathing, the shaking steps, and sad little gasps of pain, somehow they made the laborious journey to the front door with very little conversation. In fact, it was only when they were twenty minutes into their forty minute journey to the hospital, that Ruben finally managed to speak up again.
“You have enemies. Surely it could come in handy. The bids likely won’t even reach three thousand dollars.” Remarkably eloquent, given the pain he was in.
“I shall think on it but you shall be going nowhere, perhaps they will even keep you at the hospital.” One could only hope.
----------------------------------------
They’d done a good job tonight. No reason not to send Danny home early. He’d shown a lot of backbone picking up where Gabe left off on their hunt. Louise and Lee had left for a well-deserved dinner together, and they’d trade off shifts in the morning keeping an eye on Gabe’s place, just in case he had any funny-looking visitors. No way of telling whether or not the scumbag whose blood was in that wine bottle knew what had happened. Chuck didn’t know a lot about how a vampire’s mind worked, but he did know they had funny senses about each other. He wasn’t going to take the chance that something got to the kid when they weren’t looking.
Chuck didn’t even want to drink tonight. The only reason he wasn’t the one pulling shifts and looking after Gabe was sitting right in front of him. A well-worn, but generally forgotten black book he usually kept in his bottom drawer. The numbers weren’t going to call themselves.
“Chuck,” Todd called out, opening the office door and stepping in with a big grin on his face and some sort of gory trophy slung over his shoulder. “Bagged me a good one!”
He barely glanced up from his book, “you got your phone with you?”
Todd tossed the thing onto Lee’s desk, leaving a trail of viscous slime all around it. “Yeah, got it in here somewhere.” He slung his canvas tote to the ground and knelt to the ground to properly sort through it, “why?”
“Start callin’ people, need to take out as many vamps as we can, spread out,” he glared at his phone, “so get to work.”
“Well, how about that,” Todd remarked, managing to dig his battered flip phone out of a side pocket in his tote, “been years since I’ve seen a good shark week.”
When a city became too dangerous, or there was an outbreak of too many monsters, especially ghouls, sometimes you had to call in a little back-up. Calling in over fifty hunters was going to make the city bloodier for the next week or so. Shark week. This time it wasn't because they had been overrun but because there was no way they could find Gabe’s vamp and keep the city safe at the same time.
Chuck honestly felt like he was losing his grip on the kid, and it scared the hell out of him.
Todd slammed himself down in Lee’s desk chair, rapidly flipping his phone open and scrolling through his contacts list, “Rudy Porter, you remember him? Heard the guy got a nice new cache of weapons last month. Pretty sure he’s gonna want to break them in first chance he gets.”
“Whoever, whatever, just start calling,” he grumbled, “gotta keep the city safe while we hunt down the vamp that got Gabe.”
“Hope it’s that easy,” Todd replied, holding up his phone to his ear. Chuck wasn’t too sure he liked the tone in the man’s voice. They got along just fine, normally. Maybe he was an ass when it came to Lee, but the guy was good at his job. That didn’t mean Chuck had to like him.
Chuck scowled at him, “what's that supposed to mean? You know somethin’ I don't?”
“Hey, Rudy? Yeah, dipshit, it’s Todd. You’ve got caller ID. Listen, we’ve gotta have a shark week in Chuck’s neck of the woods. Yeah. No, just your standard bloodsuckers. Place is infested pretty bad. Right, yeah, bring Stacy too if you want.” Their conversation went on for a good ten minutes before Todd finally hung up the phone. They talked about everything from the weather to new hunting techniques, and anything he could likely imagine just to waste more of Chuck’s time. By the time Todd was finally done talking, Chuck had almost given up waiting for an answer.
“I don’t know anything. I’m just a guy doing my job, Chuck,” Todd informed him calmly, lowering his phone to Lee’s desk and somehow avoiding the mess he’d made there. The mess he was damn well going to clean up before he left.
Chuck didn't believe him, not for even a second, but Gabe had already taken the book so he couldn't find out if there was something in there Gabe didn't talk about. Todd was the one watching Gabe while he was reading that book after all. Maybe there was something else going on, maybe Gabe wasn't telling the whole truth, but he was damn sure Todd knew something the rest of them didn't.