Rare Blood

Chapter Thirty-Five: No Mercy

Cyrus smiled, Richard didn't recognize him, though he hadn't changed, but maybe that's why. Cyrus should've been older too.

"You said we needed to set up a meeting... here I am."

He looked really confused for a moment, before questioning in disbelief, "Mr. Easton?"

"Ding, ding, ding. How you doing... Dick," he asked, stepping forward into the room and the effect of his arrival was priceless.

If there was any doubt in Cyrus' mind of Richard's betrayal, it was erased, the proof was all over his guilty face. The realization brought his anger back, but he needed answers before he acted. He said, "You have one chance to explain yourself, and you had better make it good."

The old man's eyes widened as his heart fluttered like a wasps wings. His skin went three shades lighter and he opened his mouth sputtering a bit before he finally spoke, "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. I asked you to come here so we could discuss your recent request."

"And, I'm afraid, I have to call bullshit on that."

Richard laughed, a nervous kind of sound, "I don't mean to be rude, but I think it would be best if you left. I'll have my secretary schedule a meeting sometime tomorrow.  I need to get everything in order."

Yeah, and Cyrus was sure everything included an ambush by Roxy and whomever was with her. "How much did they pay you," he asked.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just curious how much it took."

"Seriously Cyrus, I think you had better leave."

"I'm not interested in what you think."

"I don't know what you're talking about, really," Richard tried.

"Yeah, ok," Cyrus said, "You know... for a lawyer, you're a terrible liar, but it doesn't matter, I'm not playing with you anymore," and then he lunged at Richard knocking him flat to his back while getting a grip on his throat. He did it all before the man had a chance to flinch.

"Who came here and what'd you tell them? If you lie... you die," he warned applying a little more pressure, then he eased off to allow him to speak.

"Ok," Richard chocked out, "Ok," and Cyrus let go completely.  He backed away and sat down in Richards chair watching as the man sat upright pulling at the top button of his crisp collard shirt. "Speak. Now," he ordered and let his fangs show.

"Ho! What the... What is this? What are you?"

"I'll tell you what I'm not, patient."

"This isn't happening," Richard said looking toward the ceiling then back at Cyrus who said, "Oh, but it is, and unless you start talking," he made a show of running his tongue over one of his fangs, "You're not gonna like my bite."

Cyrus wasn't going to bite him, there was no way he would drink that filth's blood, but it worked as an intimidation tactic.

"I, I... a million dollars..."

"To do what and for whom," Cyrus asked, as sweat glistened around the old mans hair line and he actually whimpered as he answered, "A guy name Jacks came to my office two days ago with an assistant, a Miss Maple. He came in and gave me a suitcase of... of cash with a promise of more if I told them about that girl you wanted me to find out about and if... if I could get you here."

"What'd you tell them about Faye, that's her name by the way, not, that girl."

"They offered me a lot of money. What was I supposed to do?"