And I try not to look at our impromptu visitor as anything more than a bag of bones. Not a potential blood smoothie.
"I was going to ask if you were all right," the man says, glaring at Alyssa with the insulted air of a man who's had his chivalry spurned. "But..." He mutters something under his breath; I don't even offer him the dignity of trying to translate his mumblings.
He pushes past us---that is, I let him; no man can get past a pissed-off vampire unless such an action is permitted---and trots down the stairs.
Halfway down the next flight of steps, he looks back up, glaring through the mesh of balustrades and banisters, and I contemplate snarling at him.
But no; years ago, I promised myself not to act as anything other than human unless the occasion truly calls for it. In this instance, it'd just be showing off. So I keep my fangs to myself and merely glare back.
It does the trick. He shakes himself into action and exits.
The bang of the tenement door downstairs punctuates this little incident and prompts me into speaking again. "Look. Alyssa."
"You can let go of my arm now."
"What?" I look down. "Oh." I didn't even realise. But now, I let her go. With her free hand, she rubs the opposite wrist, saying nothing but still managing to make me feel guilty in her silence. I gripped her a little too hard, evidently. I shouldn't have gripped her at all. It's too strong a word, too vicious, too uncaring. "All I wanted to say was don't feel you have to keep anything from me."
"I don't."
"I mean it. Anything." I leave even if you want to stop this unspoken.
"I know." She nods. "Nathan, I know."
Strange how she sounds as if she's trying to reassure me, when I feel it should be the other way round.
We continue the rest of our climb in silence.
She lives on the top floor, which sets my mind at rest. Yes, I worry about her and want her above street level and those ground floor flats, which are so easy to break into. Yes, I nag. On occasion.
But only because I know the kind of people who are out there. The kind of things. Creatures.
"Thank you for seeing me home, Sergeant."
She mock-salutes me outside her front door, with the hand that holds her keys, and the playful tinkling makes me smile.
"So formal."
"I tried my 'piss off, Nathan; I can get myself home' routine earlier, but it didn't work, so..."
She shrugs. "Now you've escorted me right to my very doorstep, so you can stop worrying."
"It's my job."
"I know you're supposed to look after the people you drink from---"
"Person, singular," I correct her.
"I know you cheat on me with those infidel fangs, Sarge. Don't lie."
"Only while you're indisposed. They're all second choice. They don't slake my thirst like you can," I add in a sing-song tone.
"Good God." She sighs and unlocks her door.
"You coming in?"
"No, I'm gonna go." I thumb over my shoulder, not needing to spell it out.
"You're thirsty. Right. Well, you can't say I didn't offer."
"I told you; you're not well enough yet."
"And as I was about to say, I know you have to look after me, but sometimes, I think you go too far."
I pause before replying, cock my head while studying her under the watery, yellowish light of the stairwell. Even with my sharp eyesight---no night-blindness for me, or little of it anyway---she still appears discoloured. Pale. Wan, even, to use a melodramatic word. "Do I?" I whisper and reach out to wind one of her black curls around my fingers. Louder, now: "Do I really?"
"Nathan, come on, you know I was only joking."
I want to say again, do I; do I really, but remain silent, at least with regard to whether or not I take my concern too far at times. I don't think I do, but as I've already acknowledged tonight, I know what's out there.
"Get some sleep." I run my hand down the back of Alyssa's head, draw her closer, and kiss her forehead. Like a lover, I think, and smile.
"I will."
I can't help myself. I have to fuss. Still with my lips against her skin, I close my eyes and whisper, "You'd tell me, wouldn't you?"
"Tell you what?" Her brow furrows, but I refuse to let her go.
"Anything. If anything bothered you. About this. Us. Our arrangement."
She draws back sharply, gasping, looking for all the world like she's about to give me a mouthful about bloody well smothering her again, but she must see something in my expression. Her scowl melts away, and she nods. "Of course."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
"Good." I nod and kiss her again. "Get some rest." I turn to leave, my steps slow, deliberate, only speeding up when I hear the click of her door and the key turning in the lock behind me.
I made her swear to tell me anything, but there's so much she doesn't know about me. Oh, she knows about my history during the war, some of the things I've done since. But not what made me, me. Not what or who made me a vampire.
The man who killed me, and the other who brought me back to life.
I head west after leaving Alyssa's place, regretting the fact that I didn't go into her flat this night. She never paid any attention to the old legend about inviting a vampire into one's home.
"If you were going to bite me, you'd do it on the street," she always says.
"I have more class than that," I always say.
I didn't think it would be appropriate to spend any time in her small flat tonight. She needs time to think. I need time to think.
So I think about where to go now, where I can find someone to play with. Back toward the city centre? I have cash to get a taxi. Maybe walk it and see who I meet on the
