Nexus [COMPLETE]

30. Winston

August 2013

I wasn't the type of person to hold a grudge, so when Michael sat across from me in the lounge one evening, I didn't so much as bat an eye.

"Winston," he greeted without malice.

"Michael," I returned.

"In the interest of peace, I think we should forget the incident from a few weeks ago and move on. I have nothing against you or your vampire."

I nodded. "Glad we agree. How is Tierren?"

"He's fine. A broken spine is nothing to boast about, but it healed quickly enough. Vampires are truly extraordinary."

Now, so are we, I didn't add.

I felt more than heard Domare walk into the room. I had been waiting for him, after all. He had a steaming hot mug of blood in one hand, and a bottle of water in the other. The vampire sat next to me on the couch and passed over the bottle of water.

"Grape flavored," he pointed out.

I smiled in response. I vaguely wondered when he had picked that little tidbit of information out of my head. Pleased, I took a swig from the bottle, before returning my attention to Michael.

"Have you met Ramsey?" I asked politely.

"Winter Ramsey? Alexander's slayer?"

I nodded.

"Yes. He's strange."

"Suits Alex perfectly," Domare noted and sipped at the steaming mug of blood he was holding.

"What is that?" I had to ask.

"O positive with cinnamon."

"O pos?"

He smirked. "Yes, just like your blood, Winny, though hardly as tasty."

"That's the Nexus talking," I muttered, looking faintly disgusted.

Don't make that face, he thought. It wasn't that long ago that you stood hungering for my blood for the first time. You will crave it again.

I didn't want to admit that he was probably right, but he knew it anyway. Domare just smiled, sipping again at his coffee and slumping against me on the couch.

What are you doing? I demanded.

Are you still being finicky about that? I am your vampire, Winston. It is natural for me to appear...affectionate with you.

I thought that wasn't your thing.

I'm not being romantic, you idiot. It's just more comfortable if I have some sort of contact with you. The further I get away from you, the edgier I get.

Paranoid, much? I thought bitingly.

Yes, actually, was his sharp reply. And haven't you noticed? If I move more than ten feet from your side, your anxiety increases considerably, and I get...

Paranoid? I repeated.

Itchy, he surmised. That's the best word I have for it. Itchy in my head.

You're nuts.

Try it, he insisted. Walk across the room.

I got up, curious to see what he meant, and walked across the room. I had nearly reached the exit, sure that my vamp was just crazy, when I felt it.