Tainted Blood (6 page)

The temptation to just suggest the man was slowly becoming more and more appealing, as Brian was starting to tire of the whole conversation. “Well, I was going to tip that cabby when he took me home, on second thought he doesn't deserve it.” Brian mumbled to himself.

“What's that?” The clerk asked as he moved closer to hear what Brian was saying.

“I need a sword.” Brian spoke up.

“A sword?” The man whistled at that. “What do you need with a sword?”

“Just for display at my home.” Brian answered quickly.

“Well if I had it, I'd sell it to you. A silver sword would be worth a nice bundle.” The old man smiled to himself, evidently thinking on what he could do with that much money.

“Well, anything else that you have that’s pointy?”

The man stopped and stared at him again. It felt like the man was scrutinizing Brian. As if he were trying to see into his soul for a second. It was looking as if he was going to have to push the old man and be forced to suggest him. What was he thinking, shopping for a sword? It was the stupidest idea ever.

“I do have a silver set in the back.” The old man said. “Been sitting back there for years. Haven't had anyone that ever wanted the damn thing. Worst purchase I ever made.”

“A silver set?” Brian perked up. Could it actually be real, or was it one of those fake plated ones? It really didn't matter, probably.

“Well, I suppose there are pointed things in that, if you're looking for forks.” The man laughed like he'd just made the most hilarious joke.

“Sure, bring it out and let me have a look.” Brian said eagerly.

Forks weren’t much of a weapon, but it was better than the miniature little spoon of plated silver he was now carrying in his pocket. The old man told him to stay put and not to touch anything while he was gone, and then disappeared into the back. Several minutes passed before the man returned carrying what looked like an old dirty sheet wrapped into a bundle. The sound of kitchen utensils rang through the room as he dropped it on the counter and then begun to unwrap it.

“What the hell?” The clerk snapped as he looked at the sheets contents. “Damn it. I told that boy to leave this alone!” He started yelling at himself. “I'm going to--”

“Is this it?” Brian asked as he picked up a knife from amongst the various spoons and forks. His quick count as it rolled open was twenty seven. That should make some interesting weapons, and if he were right, as he usually was when it came to counting, there were five knives in the mix.

“No, there was a lot more here before. A whole lot more...” The man's voice drifted off as he sadly shook his head, surveying the pile of silver.

“What do you want for it?” Brian asked as he tried to test the balance of the knife.

“Huh, what?” The man seemed startled that Brian was still here.

“I said, what do you want for it? Brian asked again.

“A lot more than I'm going to get for it now. Only thing this set's worth now is melting down and selling the silver in bulk.” The man snorted.

“I'll give you a hundred dollars for it right now.” Brian said.

The old man's head snapped up at Brian’s words, a small smile creeping across his face. “Sold, but I’m not taking it back when the Missus finds out you bought an incomplete set.” The old man warned.

“No problem at all. I'm sure she won't even notice.” Brian said as he dug out a hundred dollar bill and passed it to the old man.

“Well it's all wrapped and ready to go.” The clerk cackled as he snatched the bill from Brian’s fingers then stashed it into his pants pockets as he walked away back to his magazine. Brian looked down at the 'wrapping', if a dirty sheet could be called that.

Well, it really didn't matter what it was wrapped in. No one was ever going to use the utensils for anything but killing anyway, and if the dirty thing made the wolf sick, who was going to complain?

The cabby was still waiting for him when he came out carrying his sheet wrapped bundle, the sound of the silverware plainly evident as he climbed into the back seat of the car.

“I see you found what you were looking for.” The cabby said as the door slammed shut. Brian noticed that the meter was over fifty dollars already. At this rate he was going to be completely broke by the time he got to play cards again.

“More or less.” Brian responded.

Several minutes later Brian was back at his apartment door, that now stood slightly ajar, rather than shut and locked as he had left it. The cabby’s engine faded into the distance as Brian removed the first silver knife he found in the bundle. Pausing for just a second, Brian imagined a large rat he had seen on TV not so many nights ago, a really ugly one, but then again looks really didn't matter. The main goal here was to set up an illusion around himself. He wasn't entirely sure how it worked, all he knew was that if anyone were to look at him, all they would see was a large rat scurrying along the floor.

The truth was, nothing would have changed about himself. He would still be standing there holding a large knife, and couldn't squeeze through things like he were a rat. But it worked for remaining unnoticed.

When he was sure the illusion was in place, he pushed open the door and stepped in, fully expecting to see the gray werewolf waiting for him in the room. He had no idea if a vampire's shape changing illusion would work on a werewolf, but it was the best thing he could come up with to try on such short notice.

“I see you’ve been working on your illusion power.” His aunt's voice met him as he walked into the room. “I'd suggest next time not pushing the door all the way open if you expect someone to believe you're just a rat.”

The apartment looked exactly how he left it, with the exception of his green lazy boy turned around to face the door, which his aunt now sat in watching him as he dumbly stood there looking at her.

“You really should learn more self-control.” she smiled at him.

“How so?” He inquired as he looked behind his front door, before entering the rest of the way in and closing it.

“How do you learn more self-control?” She asked, her eyebrows raising in confusion.

“No, I mean, why do I need more self-control?” Brian paused then looked around his room. “Why are you here?”

“I would think it was obvious.” She smiled again as she changed legs.

“I'm sorry?”

“You're forgiven.” She said

“No...I'm not 'sorry' per say. That was a figure of speech.”

“I realize that.” She chuckled.

“Alright, maybe we should start again.” Brian put his palm to his forehead and slowly began to rub it. “No, skip that. Just tell me why you are here.”

“My agents intercepted your assassin.” Her voice went cold and serious.

“Well, that's good then.”

“Before we lost him again.”

Brian sighed. “Then I guess that’s bad then. Um, I’m sorry, but why did you say you were here again?”

“I thought you might like an update on our progress.”

Brian nodded then walked over to his desk table, dropping the bundle of silverware onto it. Several forks escaped its confines and bounced around on the carpet with a loud clatter.

“Gone shopping, have we?” His aunt smiled as he turned around to look at her. “I told you we will take care of him.”

“Did you? I don't quite remember you ever saying that, and besides I like to be prepared.” He was surprised when she didn't have any response to that. He had expected her to continue arguing with him.
Oh well,
he thought,
I really wasn't in the mood to banter with her at the moment, anyway.

“What's your plan?” She finally asked, as he slouched against the table where the silver was.

“I didn't have one. I just thought I'd feel a little better if I had some silver around.”

“Brian we will capture this rogue operative. You can count on that.” She stood up and looked as if she were about to leave.

“That's it?” Brian asked as he started to follow her to the front door.

“That's what?” She paused dramatically.

“You let yourself into my room just to tell me everything’s going to be alright, out of the kindness of your heart?”

“I suppose so.” She smiled at him. “Why...is there something else you require of me?”

Brian stared into her eyes as she turned to look at him “Yeah, I have a question.”

“That’s not going to work you know.” She smiled at him.

“What's not going to work?” Brian asked as he backed up, realizing that he couldn’t seem to make a connection with her.

“You can't 'glimmer' me, or dominate me, or whatever you call it. We take precautions against your kind.”

“My kind?”

“You said you had a question?”

“Why did my mom call you Margret all the time, and yet you always had me call you Jenn?” He knew that wasn't much of a question, and he figured he already knew the answer, but it was the only thing off the top of his head. He really wasn't going to ask anything after all. He just wanted to teach her a lesson, one that he hoped she would never forget.

She never gave him the chance.

“That’s it? That’s your question. Not 'what do you mean by my kind'? Or 'where is the werewolf now'? Or maybe 'how can I turn all my forks into bullets'?” She laughed. “I'll see you sometime soon.”

Brain stood there as the door closed behind her without another word, fuming at it, as he looked for some comeback that would give him the upper hand. It never came.

“Well, that didn't go so well.” Brian recovered the escaped forks, then unwrapped the rest. After inventorying them and pleasantly finding out that they were real silver, Brian began to strategically place them around the house. It wasn't much of a plan, but he really didn't have anything else he could do with them. He kept on his person a knife and a fork. He wasn't too sure how effective they would be, but still...better safe than sorry.

Later that evening, Brian contemplated going out and hunting on his own. Being the bait for the werewolf seemed like a perfectly good idea. After all, he'd seen it done several times on TV. The only trouble was the bait didn't always survive. Still, it was a plan.

That, or he could see if Heather was asleep yet. He had to admit, if given a choice, Heather was always going to win. Even if she didn't seem to want to see him much anymore. After all, if the werewolf wanted to find him, how hard could it be to track him down to this little no name motel? Brian was sure he could do it if he had been looking for himself, so it should be child’s play for something like a werewolf.

After all, didn't they have, like, super sniffers or something?

With that decided, there really wasn't anything stopping him from checking out Heather's current dream. Who knew, maybe Chuck wouldn't even be there this time. Seconds later, Brian found himself relaxing on top of his bed. Every stray thought that tried to bounce around inside of it he took control of, until there was a perfect silence that was almost deafening. With that done, he centered his mind on one thing, Heather. Her perfect slender form came to mind, as well as her clear blue eyes. Brian could smell her scent, as a soft breeze began to blow over him.

Opening his eyes, he found himself standing in a dark skeletal forest. The ground littered with the leaves that presumably once adorned the now naked branches. A soft wind kicked them up here and there, scattering them over the entire floor of the all but silent place.

This is an odd dream. I hope we're not in a nightmare tonight.
Of course if she was having a nightmare, then she would have very little control over the environment. Which meant it would make it a lot easier for him to acclimate himself to it. Not to mention he would get the chance to be the hero this time.

The down side, of course was that things could go bad for him just as easily as it could for her. The last time things got out of control, Brian found himself being attacked by a stake wielding mob. That was a bit disconcerting. In the end, a mob built up and began to chase him up what seemed like a never ending hill. When he did finally reach the top, he was surprised to see the entire hill surrounded by the mob, holding torches and stakes and easily numbering in the thousands.

And somehow Heather had gone from being the heroine in need of rescue, to being the princess, and leader of the mob. She was the one who gave the commands to light the hill's brush on fire. Brian had to leave that dream and then return later. At least then the dream had reset to a much better and easier dream to take part in.

This however looked like it might be a difficult dream again. “Well, first things first, I need to find Heather.”

It didn't take long to find her. Her blond hair was colored an odd shade of black, as well as the rest of her clothes. The breeze that seemed to fill the place appeared to have found it's origin in the deep crevice that her legs now dangled over.

“Heather?” Brian said as he slowly made his way to her. He knew this was just a dream, yet he found himself tense and worried about how close she was to the edge. “Heather what are you doing?”

Brian watched her turn her head towards him. The black make up running down her face, obvious signs that she had been recently crying.