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The fog rolled slowly at ground level, cowering the streets in a grayish shimmer. The November rain was slowly drizzling. Here and there a big drop landed with a louder knock on the roof.
McCullum however currently was only barely aware of the world. He was staring at the wall at the opposite of the room. His eyes wandered around the torn and washed-out wallpaper. He hardly noticed that he let himself sink into the couch in his exhaustion. He didn't even care that the springs on the right side were so used that that he was sloped slightly to the right.
He didn't want to think or care about anything. Neither who owned the house, what might have happened to the people living here, or when was the last time that someone was here. He focused only his numb and throbbing arm, and the freshly bandaged wound on it. It tingled under the gauze thanks to the disinfectant.
Fatigue lulled him into half-sleep, when he heard the door opening.
His fingers gripped the handle of his knife, despite the fact that his head was filled with fog.
"Oh." His guest stopped at the door.
"You?" The hunter pushed himself up to stand.
"Good evening, McCullum." The doctor nodded toward him, hiding his left hand behind his back.
They stared at each other.
Geoffrey felt his hunter instinct trying to kick in, but the rush of adrenaline didn't come. He overtaxed his body and had no strength left for another fight.
"May I ask what are you doing in a place like this, McCullum?"
The hunter sensed confusion in the vampire's voice, and he wasn't surprised about that. It was a quarantined building, and monsters like him used to born or hide in similar places. Downstairs, the front door was blocked, the windows boarded up, warning everyone to stay away, if they wanted to live another day.
McCullum opened his mouth to speak, but the vampire was faster.
"Are you hurt? Do you need assistance?"
Geoffrey scoffed. This bloody idiot always did this. "No, I don't need anything from you." He slowly sank back to the chair.
"Are you sure?" Jonathan took a step closer to him, his left arm still behind his back.
"I will, when you tell me what you are hiding." The hunter's knife still rested on his tight.
"I, uh-" Reid glanced over his shoulder.
"Reid?"
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
Geoffrey raised an eyebrow.
"It's uh, my dinner? I'm here to have a dinner."
His hand tightened on the knife's handle.
The vampire saw it and raised both of his arms. "It's not whatever you think." There was a dead rat hanging from his left.
"That’s..." Geoffrey raised his other eyebrow as he stared at the animal. "That's your dinner?"
"I only answer if you promise you won't attack me," he paused for a second. "At least tonight."
"Sure-sure, spit it out, Reid. What's with the rodent?"
"It is my dinner, yes." The doctor slowly lowered his arms and stepped closer taking the other chair next to Geoffrey.
"But it's dead." There was no puncture wound on the animal, but its neck hung in an unnatural angle.
"Yes, but it died only recently." Reid looked at the dead creature in his hand. "I'm sorry but I would like to finish this before we continue our little chat."
Geoffrey glanced up into the vampire's eyes. He returned the look with a cold blue gaze, the depth of which sadness lurked.
"All right." He slowly turned away and tried to focus on the sound of rain. But he couldn't completely shut out the muffled sucking sounds, followed by deep swallows.
His thoughts began to wander. His cheek flared up, his heart started to beat faster in his chest.
There was another gulp.
The hunter shifted in his chair.
"Geoffrey? You can turn back now, thank you."
Did his voice just deepen? Wondered Geoffrey after a shiver run down his spine.
"So," he cleared his throat. "This is what you eat?"
The vampire nodded. He seemed more relaxed. "It's despicable, but necessary. I don't want to hurt any human, but I need to sate my thirst, to be able to control it."
Geoffrey felt the vampire's gaze on him, even when he closed his eyes. He was aware of their powers. Super speed, strength, all those nasty attacks, and those bloody vampire eyes. They can sense you through walls, see your veins, and even make out your heartbeat.
He tried to push away this embarrassing thought, really really hard. But it was no use, being vulnerable, and this close to him, did something to the hunter. Something he wasn't ready to face, or let himself enjoy.
"You know; I really miss drinking tea." Reid broke the silence suddenly.
Geoffrey couldn't help but snorted out loud. "Really? That’s what you miss? Tea?" He glanced at towards vampire's eyes. "You were really posh back then, aren't you?"
The gentle chuckle sent another shiver down the hunter's body. It was genuine, and yet some darkness lurked inside it.
"I can't argue with that, but yes. I did grow up in the West End of London, after all. Learned to become a doctor, went to the war, and ended up as a bloodsucker." His smile became hollow. "I miss my mother's tea, sometimes she insisted to make some for everybody at the house. It was always a bit too sweet, but she loved making it."
Geoffrey wouldn’t have been able to answer, even if he wanted to. Their past couldn’t have been more different.
"But now, I can only consume blood. It has its own taste. But drinking from rats feels like drinking water from the bottom of a trashcan after a storm." Jonathan smile appeared as he saw as the hunter scowl.
Jonathan didn’t get an answer this time either. He didn’t really expect it, he just hoped deeply that maybe McCullum wouldn’t consider every vampire the same as the others. He has been working on that for the past few weeks and has seen some hope for it. It was already a huge surprise that the Priwen didn't try to cut his throat open as soon as he saw him.
Neither did he tried alerting his comrades, though his fierce heartbeat revealed that he had still become nervous whenever he got close.
"I'd miss the whiskey."
Reid blinked for a couple of times, then let out a soft chuckle. "Yes, I bet you would." He slowly sat down on a chair not so far, but not too close either.
And after that they sat there, letting the silence descend on them. Waiting for time to pass, resting while they could.
The next night there will be another hunt.