Laurent wondered at the cruelty of fate, making the one he ought to be bonded to for all of eternity not only the enemy of his kind but a man who refused to acknowledge his desire for his own sex. Either problem on its own he felt he could have dealt with but put together they created an almost insurmountable obstacle to forming any kind of relationship. Not that Paul wanted a relationship—he was obviously eager to dissolve their partially formed bond and never see one another again. The thought made Laurent feel as if someone were squeezing his heart with an iron-clad fist. If only the were would admit his feelings, if only he would allow Laurent behind his carefully built defenses…
He was so tangled in his own web of misery that Laurent barely noticed it when Paul signaled and got off the interstate. He only looked up when the car came to a stop.
“Where are we?” He squinted at the dilapidated building in front of them. It appeared to be some kind of hotel with a restaurant connected to it. A faded blue roof sloped over a two-story building that had seen better days. A sign that read, Try ‘n Buy—The Freshest Indian River Citrus Fruit!!! sat in the corner of the dirty diner slash gift shop window.
Paul shrugged. “Some dumbfuck town in South Carolina.”
“But…” Laurent struggled with the words. “Why? Why did you stop?”
Paul frowned at him. “Because we need a break—both of us. You’re looking bad, ’mano. Wilting like a fucking flower in the sun. Need to get you inside for a while, completely out of the sunlight.”
Laurent wanted to tell him that being inside wouldn’t help—that nothing would help but blood. But he didn’t have the strength. “We’ll…continue…soon?” he managed to ask.
The were nodded. “As soon as you perk up a little. Look, you guys can drink water, right?”
Laurent nodded. “In limited amounts. It…helps some.”
“Good. I’ll get you some.” He gave Laurent another concerned look. “I parked in the shade. Can you walk or do you need me to carry you?”
“Thought you…didn’t want to touch me.” Paul’s face betrayed a mixture of exasperation and tenderness. “Look, I know I can come across as an asshole but I just didn’t want…” He shook his head. “Anyway, I can make an exception. It’s not like you’re going to jump me in the condition you’re in.”
“No,” Laurent agreed. “I think…think I can walk. But a little help…getting out?”
“Sure.” Paul was out of his seat and around the side of the car in an instant. Laurent envied his easy movements. What would it be like to roam in the daylight as easily as he did the night? It must be so freeing. He felt like an old man as Paul took his arm and pulled him gently out of the car.
“Thank you,” he managed to say.
“Welcome. You’re okay now?”
“Fine.” But it was a lie. Despite the shade Laurent was one step closer to the sun. He stumbled as a wave of dizziness hit him. The ground was a swaying slope and his legs were brittle, clumsy sticks that didn’t want to bear his weight.
“Here.” Suddenly Paul’s warm, muscular arm was around his shoulders. “Lean on me if you need to.” The were’s voice was gruff and Laurent felt a wave of concern flow between them.
“Thank you,” he whispered again. In the face of such weakness he had no pride left.
He leaned heavily against Paul, trusting the other man’s strength more than his own as they made their way into the gift shop restaurant.
The heavy, oily scent of fried food engulfed them as the door opened, making Laurent want to gag. All around were shelves filled with knickknacks and bric-a-brac.
Alligator skulls grinning emptily at nothing, wind chimes made of long strings of shells, novelty T-shirts with ridiculous slogans printed on them. It was cheap and tawdry but at least it was out of the sun. With Paul’s help, he sank with a relieved sigh onto the cracked blue plastic of a booth in the corner. They were the only customers besides a group of young men eating in the far corner.
“You okay?” Paul asked again.
This time Laurent could only nod. He was rapidly nearing the end of his strength but there seemed to be nothing he could do about it.
“Okay then.” Paul nodded. “I’m gonna go take a leak. If the waitress comes while I’m gone order me a cheeseburger and fries and a Coke. And get yourself some water— you look like you could use about a gallon of it.”
Laurent didn’t say that a single sip of the were’s blood would revive him more than ten gallons of plain water. He only nodded again and sank down with his head on the faded tabletop. Mon Dieu, am I going to die here? Should I ask Paul to get a room until it is dark again or would it be better to just keep pushing on and hope that Nana can help?