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After all that crap with Bro, Rose is more wary than she usually is. Not knowing where evil might be lurking, she plans to keep Dirk inside for the day, where he’ll be safe - but that proves to be more difficult than she anticipates. Dirk’s not ill, so he isn’t quiet, and once he has some lunch in him, he’s not even frightened. Not of Bro, anyway. And to make matters worse, he has an idea.
She watches him, shaking her head. “I don’t know, Dirk. It’s too dangerous. He could be spying on us. He’s crazy enough.”
“It’s daytime, Rose,” her charge says pointedly from where he sits by the door, lacing up his dirty orange sneakers. His jacket and school backpack are next to him, as is the plastic baggie of coins he shook out of his U-Paint-It ceramic unicorn bank. “He can’t be spying, he’s asleep. We can get Dave blood and not have to worry about that guy doing anything to us.”
It’s decent logic, but she’s still uncertain. She doesn’t want to scare Dirk by bringing up the possibility of Ambrose having hired henchmen, miscreants who may not be reluctant in the least to carry out whatever orders they may have. “I’m not saying that’s not true, but how can we be sure?”
He shrugs impatiently. “Okay, I guess maybe he’s awake, but he can’t come out in the sun. Dave said so. Vampires get burned up if the sun gets ‘em, everyone knows that. And even if he is watching, we gotta try.” Dirk’s tone slides more toward pleading. “Right? We have to help, Rose. Dave needs us.”
Rose presses her lips together. She hasn’t wanted to cross this bridge, to involve herself in this part of it, but they have no choice. The larder is empty, so to speak, and she has no idea whether Dave’s figured something out or not. In any case, after the fight last night, he’s sure to wake up starving, and she’s too worn out to want to deal with that in any way other than having blood on hand that doesn’t belong to her or Dirk.
And Dirk has a point. Dave has been kind to both of them. It’s not only a safety issue; to accept Dave’s generosity and fail to return it would violate the Rule of Threes, and her personal creed. Besides, she has magic enough for protecting them on one short jaunt. “… all right. We’ll go together, though, and if I tell you to do something, you do it. Understand?”
Dirk nods quickly, scrambling to his feet. He pulls on the backpack and ties the jacket around his waist. “Okay. I will.”
“Good. We’ll try the place on Western. I know them, they may be lenient.” She tugs her shawl off of the back of the armchair and wraps it around her shoulders. “After all, who could say no to a cute young man like you?”
Dirk flushes. “Rooooose,” he protests, though he doesn’t look displeased. “Can we go now?”
* * * * *
The carniceria is only a short bus ride away. It’s barely past one in the afternoon when they walk in, Dirk’s hand in Rose’s. The owner grins from behind the counter when he sees them, raising his hand in greeting. “Qué tal, señorita?”
Rose smiles in return. “You know I don’t speak Spanish, Ray.”
“I remember. Doesn’t mean I can’t try to get you to do it.” He wiggles his eyebrows at her, then leans over the counter to peer at Dirk. “And who’s this? Your kid? Kinda looks like you. All that blonde.”
She snorts. “That’s a very skillful attempt at flattery, but no. Ray, this is Dirk. Dirk, this is Ray.”
“Hello,” Dirk says, hanging back behind Rose. He hasn’t released her hand yet.
Ray gives the boy a friendly smile. “¡Hola! ¿Cómo estás?” He winks at Rose. “He looks smart. Maybe if I start young, we can get him talking like you never do.”
Rose puts her arm around Dirk and pats his shoulder reassuringly. “That means ‘how are you’. Don’t worry, you don’t have to answer in Spanish.”
Dirk nods. “Estoy bien, gracias. I think. ¿Es correcto? Lo siento, no hablo español. I mean, not well.”
Ray laughs freely, his expression delighted. “Rosita! You’ve been holding out on me!”
Rose is just as surprised, although she knows she shouldn’t be. Still, she can’t help feeling at least a little proud. She squeezes Dirk’s shoulder again. “Not intentionally, I assure you. Very impressive, Dirk.”
Dirk turns red and ducks back behind Rose. “It’s just what they say on tv.”
“Sesame Street really pays off these days, huh?” Ray says cheerfully.
“It’s good to have positive role models. Ray,” Rose says more seriously, “we need help. We need cow’s blood.”
The owner’s eyebrows go up. “Blood? That’s a first. For some of your …” He wiggles his fingers at her.
“Sort of,” Rose says. “But not really. It’d probably be better if you didn’t know.”
Ray’s eyes get bigger, and he whistles softly. “If that’s the case, Señorita Bruja, maybe you should go buy from Elaine. I don’t do that kind of thing here. No disrespect.”
“None taken. Prudence is an admirable quality. But we do need it. Do you have any?”
The man shrugs apologetically.
“Ray.” Rose purses her lips. “How long have you known me? We need it for a friend – and if you stopped to think for a moment, you’d realize that if I was intending to use the blood for evil, it’d be useless since I haven’t killed the animal myself.”
“True…” Ray rubs the back of his head, rolls his shoulders. “I don’t know. Maybe it’d be better if we didn’t get into this –”
“It’s for my brother!” Dirk bursts out. He shoots past Rose and grabs the counter, trying to pull himself up higher than his tip-toes. “It’s all he can eat, and he’s gonna get sick again if he can’t have it. I got money, I’ll give it all to you, but please help my brother, it’s not his fault!”
Ray throws Rose a look, but she’s not about to intervene. They need this, and if Dirk can get it for them, then she’ll let him.
Ray shakes his head. “I can’t, mijo. If others find out what I’m giving you, it could get bad for me.”
“But he really, really needs it!” Dirk’s fingers are white against the countertop. “I won’t tell, I promise. Please? I have nine dollars!”
“I…” Another look at Rose, but she has the sense to remain stubbornly silent. Ray sighs, drops his head to the counter, and mutters to himself. “Dios mio, why me? Why me, Lord? Ugh…” He straightens up suddenly and slaps the counter. The sound cracks through the store, echoing off the ceiling. “Fine! Fine it’s yours.”
Dirk jumps back, face alight, excited.
“ONCE.” Ray thrusts his finger into Dirk’s face. “One time, that’s it. Don’t come here asking for it again, understand?”
Dirk nods quickly.
Rose raises an eyebrow, but now isn’t the time to quibble. Dave doesn’t have any blood at home at all, and he can’t go out and hunt every night, not in the middle of a city. This will buy them at least two nights, maybe more. They’ll figure something out by then. “Agreed. A gallon should suffice.”
“A gallon?” Ray echoes, incredulous. “Are you kidding me? What in the name of the Virgin – no, never mind. I don’t want to know. Like you said, the less I know, the better for me.” He waves toward the back of the store. “Lorenzo can help you. Go tell him what you want. And you, mijo.” He points at Dirk again. “You make sure this brother of yours is worth it. Comprendes?”
“Sí,” Dirk says, and his belief is absolute, as big and clear as the Texas sky. “He is.”