As they started moving out, Wayne dropped a spark behind. In ten minutes, the house would be nothing more than a smoldering pile of charcoal, taking the two potential ghouls along with it. There was a chance the ghouls would rise before his spark went off–Wayne wasn’t sure on the exact time it took to ghoulify–but he doubted it.
Besides, he couldn’t exactly stick around to ensure the job finished. He’d rather spare the kid the sight of her home burning down.
“What’s your name, kid?” He couldn’t keep calling her ‘kid’ after all.
“Zoe.”
“That’s a nice name. I’m–”
“What?” Serena said with a huff. “Zoe’s nice but not Patty?”
“I never said that,” Wayne grunted. “Just never heard of a vampire calling themselves Patty.”
She huffed again, but didn’t stay that way for long. Zoe let out a small, muffled giggle that forced Serena into a sad smile.
“Call me Serena.”
“Wayne,” was all he said.
Blood
“Sarah!”
Wayne hammered his fist against the heavy oak door.
“Sarah! Open the door!”
He rattled the handle to no avail. It was locked.
“Maybe no one is home,” Serena said, arms clasped behind her head as she leaned against the wall.
Zoe clung to the vampire’s shirt, pressing her mask up against a curtained window near the two.
Since rescuing Zoe from the thralls, the younger girl had stuck close to Serena. At first it had been mere holding hands. After about ten minutes of walking, Serena put her enhanced strength to good use by giving Zoe a piggy-back ride.
Wayne had kept a close eye on them the entire time. Despite Zoe’s arms being wrapped around Serena, just beneath her sharp fangs, the vampire never once acted like she was about to throw away his trust.
After eating two whole people, maybe that wasn’t so surprising.
All the while, they had kept up a steady conversation. Almost all of it was initiated by Serena. Any time it drifted towards Zoe’s family, Serena skillfully directed it away. It was something that Wayne was beyond grateful for. He was at home in answering Serena’s questions about vampires and magic, but keeping a kid’s mind occupied and off of her parents was far beyond his capabilities.
That Serena kept her from crying only raised Wayne’s opinion of her.
Wayne had abstained from their conversation unless he had been directly addressed. He had not, however, abstained from listening in. Through overhearing their conversation, Wayne had learned that Zoe was a mere ten years old.
Serena herself was sixteen. Older than Wayne had initially suspected, but not so much that he had been expecting her to keep quite such a level head. That was just another thing he had attributed to her vampiric condition.
A less cynical person might say that no one should ever have to experience the things the girls had, especially not at their ages. Wayne was of the opinion that tragedy struck at some point or another, best it come when you can survive it.
For Serena and Zoe, that might just be now if only because of his presence in the city.
And hopefully for Sarah as well.
Wayne took a step back. Gripping his tome under the crook of his arm, Wayne held out one hand towards the door. The wood erupted in bright yellow flames. He directed the flames and heat away from the rest of the house, concentrating it all in on itself, focusing on the door.
A metallic clatter made its way out of the silent flames. Wayne extinguished the fire.
The doorway stood open. A handle and a deadbolt lay on the floor, both emitting a faint glow.
“Watch your feet,” he said as he took a ginger step over the threshold.
Serena actually lifted Zoe up and over as they crossed. “I don’t smell any blood,” she said with a sniff of the air. “But there is definitely
Frowning, Wayne ignited a decent sized ball of flame in his hand. “Stay here,” he said. “And keep the kid safe. Be ready to run.”
“You don’t want backup?”
“Yeah, keep an eye on the door and make sure that we haven’t attracted any attention.”
Words spent, Wayne moved deeper into the house. It wasn’t a large home. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a living room. The latter two were connected and were attached to the entryway. He started with the nearest bedroom.
Bedroom was probably the wrong word to use. Sarah had converted it to an office as soon as she finished school. But, it had once been his bedroom.
Gone were the posters of various new wave bands. His bed had been replaced by a curved desk, looking out of the curtained window. The only thing remaining was his old guitar, propped up in the corner with a thick layer of dust covering it.
Most of the rest of the office had a decent coating of dust as well. A good deal was probably just the particles of smoke in the air finding a place to settle.
Apart from the dust, nothing appeared amiss. The desk hadn’t been turned over. The computer and stationary sitting atop was undisturbed.
Wayne shut the door and moved on.
