Bloodguilty (9 page)

The building that Casimir had first met Mikki, where he'd been leaning over the balcony, was where he lived. After an excruciating drag up a weathered staircase, Mikki unlocked the first door at the top and let them both in. His apartment was small: all one room with chipped plaster walls, a kitchen that consisted entirely of a tiny fridge, microwave, and sink, one door off to the right that was probably the bathroom, and a bed on a tall, heavy frame under the window. There was a small lamp next to the bed, but it was off, and the entire apartment was dark.

With a grunt, Mikki helped Casimir to lie down on top of the threadbare sheets. "How starving are you?"

"I can wait a little while. I really just need to sleep," he replied, already closing his eyes.

"Sure." After a pause, Mikki added, "I'm not really home much, so if you wanna crash here for a few days, it's cool."

"What if you are here?" Casimir asked, pushing his shoes off with his feet so that they fell to the floor.

"You can move over. Bed's big enough for both of us to sleep." Mikki demonstrated this by lying down next to Casimir, on his side, one of his hands falling limp and resting against Casimir's arm.

"Thank you." He didn't have the energy to think of where he would go after this, or even where he would find his next meal. His body was collapsing, and his mind was falling into darkness along with it.

*~*~*

When Casimir woke up, he could hear talking, a faint sound compared to the strained beating of his heart. He sat up and saw Garnet and Mikki talking near the door. Garnet slipped away from his brother and approached the bed; Casimir gripped the edge of the mattress to check the urge to grab and bite him.

"Miss Adeline sends a gift," Garnet said and reached into the pocket of his robes, handing him a wrapped pouch that was fairly heavy.

Casimir pulled aside the cloth: a pack of blood was inside. "Give her my thanks," he mumbled. There was a medical port on one end that he could have drank from, but he bit through the bag, not having the patience to drink neatly. The blood was cold, but still wonderful, calming the burning pain in his veins and the clawing at the back of his mind.

Garnet turned away while he drank, a look of nausea passing over his face. "She wanted me to confirm that all of the vampires are dead and that no one is going to come after me or her."

Casimir stood up, licking his mouth clean. "There shouldn't be anyone left. I'm going to go back there and burn the place down, just to be sure."

"I'll come with you," Mikki said. It was afternoon, and when he leaned against the wall, a stripe of sunlight crossed his face.

Garnet nodded and slipped his hands into his pockets. "Are you going to be leaving after that?"

"I… guess I'm going to have to. I don't exactly have a skilled trade. I don't even have a place to stay."

"Miss Adeline has been talking about building an inn so the centaur doesn't have the only one in town. Maybe you could get in on that with her," Garnet suggested.

"Maybe I could," Casimir agreed. He remembered her mentioning that when he first came into town. "I don't know much about hotels, but I'm sure I can learn."

"Yeah, that's if she does it," Mikki pointed out. "And that's gonna take a while if she does."

Garnet frowned, looking very much like his older brother. "He could try being a bodyguard there."

"After what just happened, you think she's gonna want him hanging around every day?"

"I'll talk to her about it," Casimir said, ending the argument between them before it could go further. "But I'll see what else I can find—if there is anything. To be honest, I'm sick of wandering around."

"Well, don't feel like you gotta go tomorrow. Take some time." Mikki pushed off of the wall and took the empty blood pack out of Casimir's hand. "I said you could crash here for a while."

"I'll do that, then." Staying in Brightgate seemed like a good idea. After all, it was the City of Monsters, and he was a monster that felt welcome there.

K.M. Penemue has been dreaming up stories for as long as they can remember, but didn’t start putting them to paper until they were sixteen. A Detroit-based office-worker by day, by night K.M. is a word ninja who loves to romp around in different genres.