15: The Guardian Angel

An interlude of peace.

Zack leans against the wall, his palm coated in stolen blood. At his feet lies the unconscious Agent Gabriella, the deadly Agency operative that caught him sneaking around in her (probably short term) house, and very nearly killed him. He sent a text for help and nothing has happened yet.

Zack is in bad shape. He has bullet holes in his throat, stomach, back and chest. His muscle ligaments are torn around his left shoulder, he walks with a limp, he's coated in blood, and his gun is broken. On top of that, he's wounded enough that he has lost control over his vampiric powers.

In a few words, he's jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.

He won't kill the agent. He's not that kind of guy. And she gave him plenty of chances to surrender and even leave with his life. He wasn't expecting that from a human, much less a vampire hunter.

So he sighs heavily. He's not going anywhere in any case. He can't run and he can't fight. The neighbors surely called the cops by now. It looks like this is it.

… But then a car slows to a stop outside of the house and honks once. Honks? In the dead of night? Zack peers out the window and sees a familiar face, illuminated by the car's inner light.

Taylor Kahan, of the Kerberos vampiric lineage. The woman he saved a while back -- from a raging werewolf. Zack gasps in relief and pushes the house's side door open, his backpack with crucial data stolen from here hanging from his back. With a last wary look at Agent Gabriella, he limps out as fast as he can towards the car.

Taylor opens the door for him from within and he slumps inside with a weak groan. She's alarmed as she looks him up and down while accelerating away:

"Jesus man, what the hell happened? I got a call from Penelope, to come pick you up. I'm the only one in the area!"

Zack looks ahead as his head bobs with the car's motions, fixating on the sounds of the engine and the gravel bits being crushed by the tires.

"Drive. Cops. May be. Coming."

"Shit!" she says at that, then looks ahead, grips the wheel tightly and accelerates. She drives in silence for the next minute as the flow of police sirens can be noticed in the rearview mirrors, fortunately not approaching. "I'm taking you to your place to heal up." she says after a while.

Zack groans and looks out the window as he murmurs, "I don't have a place."

Taylor looks at him, then ahead. Highway night lights make shadows come and go. Silence. Then she speaks.

"Fine. I owe you. You're coming home."

They drive on. A thick fog begins to form that slithers over narrow passages. Then Taylor stops the car before a brick wall tenant tower, with a small frontal grass yard and little steps leading to the black street door. She kills the engine, unbuckles her belt, then gets out. She looks around for threats, then comes around to help Zack out.

She's stronger than she looks. She holds Zack against her side, and he can do little but let himself be carried like a drunk man up the steps.

Her apartment is actually half underground in a basement-like unit near the boiler. Noisy, but private and mostly concealed from the sun and prying eyes. She has a single camera over the white wooden door, which she opens. When she does, Zack notices it's reinforced.

Taylor smiles a bit at that and comments hushedly, "Got it last week after the wolf attack. Couldn't sleep without one."

Zack chuckles in pain, and is led inside. The studio apartment is small, with clothes and books scattered. Utterly dark, it makes Zack stumble until she adds:

"Right. Us Kerberos can often see in the dark. Let's see... I sometimes turn on the lights so the neighbors will not get sus on me."

The lights go on and Zack can now appreciate the dirt, the heavy metal posters on the wall... and the Polaroid picture of a beaming Taylor, younger, wearing jeans, a loose shirt and leather boots, and riding a horse happily under the prairie sun.

Taylor clears her throat and points to an old faux leather couch: "You'll sleep there with a bed cover on you. Do you need blood?"

Zack gulps, licks his lips, "I don't think so..."

Taylor nods, then exhales and relaxes, pushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, "Sorry. I get too much into mission mode. You're my guest. Do you need anything? Is there something you can share about what just happened to you?"

Zack looks at his knees and considers this. His hands are trembling slightly as he admits, "I think... I think that woman scares me. I've never been this close to dying."

Taylor raises an eyebrow, "And you still went to her house?"

He nods sheepishly, "Had to be done."

She smiles, "That's either brave or stupid or both."

Zack chuckles, and winces in pain, "Yeah... Yeah I think so too. I should try to heal, then sleep."

Taylor nods at that and before he can react, she takes his hand and gives it a light squeeze. Her skin is corpse-cold, just like his.

"You came for me against a werewolf, dude. I think that slaps." A pause. "Get some rest."

He smiles bashfully and leans back, murmuring, "Thanks, chica."

She stands up, letting go of his hand, and says softly, "It's Taylor."

"Thanks, Taylor."

He covers himself with the bed cover and seeks to draw on his blood, then slumber at last.

Heal
Force 5
3, 9: Weak, +2H -2B -Wounded