The Arrangement
11:58
Alucard leaned back in his chair, quietly sipping his merlot, not so patiently watching the second hand as it circled the old grandfather clock against the wall.
11:59
It was not often that he entertained. In fact, for the past ten years, he had only had one guest a year—always the same person on the same night at the same time.
12:00
The clock struck midnight, its deep chimes echoing through the stony room. Alucard straightened in his chair, his senses prickling in anticipation of his guest. He made no effort to suppress the leer spreading across his face, until . . .
12:01
the mad smile fell immediately into a scowl . . .
12:02
that grew deeper and deeper . . .
12:03
with every minute that passed . . .
12:04
until a large, hirsute man, clad head to toe in crushed red velvet, appeared before him.
"You're late," he hissed.
"You know you're on the naughty list again, right?"
"Do you have my present, fat man?"
"Rude bastard. Do you have my cookies?"
Alucard motioned to the tin sitting on the table beside him. "White chocolate macadamia nut, as always."
The heavyset man sauntered to the table and removed a cookie from the tin. He glared at the midian, then tasted the cookie. Nodding in approval, he collected his payment and tossed Alucard a package. "If you weren't the best damned baker in Europe, I wouldn't bother with you."
"Ah, but I am, so you will," he replied, the Cheshire grin returning to his face. He opened the box and removed a bag of blood—medical, yes, but still warm and fresh, as though it were still flowing through the veins of its original host. "So, how did you get it from her this year?"
"I used the old blood drive bit again."
The vampire rolled his eyes. "She's not stupid, old man. Don't you think she'll catch on eventually?"
"Nah, she's a sucker for anything that she thinks will benefit her troops. Now, if you will excuse me, there are many small children deserving of their presents to whom I must attend." The rotund figure turned and walked away, vanishing into the shadows.
"Until next year then, Nicholas."
Alucard bit the plastic seal off the bag, spitting it away. Closing his lips around the slender tube at the top, he slowly sipped its contents, letting the thick, coppery liquid linger on his tongue after each drink. It was always as he remembered it—sweet, warm, intoxicating.
"Delicious."
Okay, so Santa going to visit Alucard on Christmas Eve is a little ridiculous, but it's all in good fun. Anyways, thanks for your time! Remember, reviews are love. Pretend to be infatuated.