Chapter 11

"What do you mean he's not there?" Vincent stood by an open window holding a radio to his ear, listening into the Turks' conversation.

". . . There's no body."

"Damn it . . ." Silence filled the call, giving Vincent a reason to smile. The Turks' plan was starting to go up in flames. The only articles of clothing that he left to throw Rude and Tseng off were Reno's blood-stained shirt and Elena's Turk blazer.

Well, that should slow them down. . . . The crimson-eyed figure switched the radio off, clipping it to his belt and headed down the stairs to the darkest part of the building. . . . Won't be long before their trail warms up. His metal boots clanged down the stairs, his claw scraping the iron railing as he headed towards the basement.

It had been half an hour since Tseng had given the red haired vampire a taste of modern 'slaying'. Though he'd taken more than the usual amount necessary, the vampire was still not strong enough to stand on his own. The bullet that had lodged in his shoulder weakened him instantly, triggering a massive attack of bloodlust.

There were no more packets of refrigerated blood left. Vincent regretted this since he'd given Reno the first package, and he knew he'd run out eventually. Just how fast he'd run out - that he never knew. He had to improvise somehow, even if it meant doing the one thing he despised.

Elena gently propped Reno up against the dark wall, hearing his heart racing. "Reno . . ." She touched his shoulder, making his hiss in pain. "Sorry. . . "

Reno glanced at her, breathing heavily. "It's not you, 'Lena." His red eyes shifted to the empty packages lying on the floor. . . . Is there . . .

"Vincent said he'd keep looking for more," Elena responded, answering his question. "I don't know if he has any left." The blonde vampire caught the sound of metal lightly touching stone. Vincent's coming down the stairs.

Hope Valentine's remembered to bring more blood.

I hope so too. She gently gripped his shoulder, sensing the vibrations coming from the stairs. Sounds like he's already here. At that exact moment, the wooden door opened and a red cloaked figure stepped into the cold basement. Elena glanced in his direction to see nothing except the ex-Turk empty handed.

"Valentine, you forget something?"

Vincent sighed, kneeling at Reno's side. "I have good news and bad news. Which would you prefer?"

Reno shuddered, closing his eyes. "You didn't bring any blood . . ." His hand grabbed Vincent's shoulder, a loud hiss escaping his throat. "You said you would!"

"I don't have any left, Reno." He lightly touched the vampire's shoulder, pushing him away while adjusting the collar of his cape. Reno winced, giving a low hiss. "If I did, I would've brought it with me."

Elena swallowed, glancing in the direction of the open door. "If you don't have anymore, then what are we supposed to do?"

Vincent sighed heavily, readjusting the collar straps. "I knew this would happen somehow." He ripped the fabric, exposing a pale neck scratched with two twin healed marks.

"What the hell is that?" Reno stared at the dark scabs on the black-haired man's throat. He gulped shaking. "You've been bitten . . . " Vincent solemnly nodded. "But how come you're not-?"

"It's a long story, Reno." The left-clawed man leaned against the wall, closing his crimson eyes. "The only reason I wasn't turned is that the vampire who did this"- he pointed to the scabs - "Mistook me for someone else. I knew nothing of vampires at the time."

"Why help us if what bit you was what we are?" Elena responded. The redheaded vampire gave her a 'what the hell?' look, which she ignored. "I don't get it."

"It doesn't matter who was responsible." Vincent shook his head. "What matters is what happens to you both."

Reno shuddered, a heartbeat ringing in his ears. I can't control this . . . He shut his eyes, clutching his wounded shoulder wincing. Elena placed her hand on his arm, which he shrugged off violently. The only thing he could sense was Vincent's blood.

". . . Valentine, why the hell do you care what happens to us anyway?" He gasped, shuddering. A clawed hand gripped his shirt collar, pulling him closer to the darkened scars. . . . What the hell are you doing . . .?

"Do you want the blood or not?"

Reno's eyes widened, giving a sharp exhale, a hard realization of what Vincent meant. The vampire shook his head feverishly. ". . . Don't force me to make this choice . . ." I don't want to kill you.

"You will die if you choose not to drink."

Tseng traced a finger against the stone, wiping off dark red paint. More blood, more vampire victims. A body count had started, so far only 2. The frustration it took to track down Reno and Elena, rather than relieve itself, kept steadily growing. Another mission had failed, he muttered. Three was too many to count. The Turks, or what remained of them, had to get this last one right. Not fuck it up once more.

"So, what should we do this time, sir?" Rude adjusted his sunglasses, glancing at the dark-haired Turk.

"I don't know." Tseng glanced over the articles they had obtained the previous night: two opposite pieces of clothing that belonged to their former teammates. The blood splotches from the clothes matched the color of the brick wall. Reno's shirt, stained crimson red, had been shredded where the Turk shot the vampire. As for the blazer, there was some blood, but not a whole lot, lined near the edges of the sleeves.

Both the shirt and the blazer, according to the lab techies, had the same blood type etched into the cloth. Except for a few small pieces of silver, the chemical analysis of the stains indicated that this was Reno's blood type. This meant, Tseng realized, that the redhead would still be alive but severely weak and desperately in need of blood. The vampire would probably go after anyone and drain the first person he'd run into on the street. "There has to be something we overlooked . . ."

Rude checked the count of silver bullets in the handgun. "There is, sir."

Tseng glanced at the bald Turk. "And what would that be?"

Damn it . . . Reno wiped his mouth, licking the blood off his fingers. This was bad; the blood thirst was too much. Even after drinking Vincent's blood, he still craved more. The healed wound in his shoulder had made things worse. The redhead felt like he'd lost total control over his urges. I'm screwed. If Rude or Tseng confront me, I'm fucking history.

A light flashed in his general direction, blinding the vampire for a moment. Reno slunk underneath a set of wooden crates, trying to avoid getting caught. His eyes refocused, catching sight of a blonde holding up a limping pale figure. Shutting his eyes, he centered in on their conversation:

"Vincent, you shouldn't be out here. You've lost too much blood."

"Elena, that's not the worst that could happen. Finding Reno is the top priority now . . ."

Reno sunk lower behind the crates. The moment he'd left Vincent in the basement, he felt like someone or something else had control over him. When the redhead temporarily came to his senses, he found himself clutching a girl weakly pleading for him to stop while blood dripped down her throat. The tempting taste of blood made the vampire intoxicated, and instead of helping her, he killed her without knowing it. He just left her in the alley and took off. Unfortunately, she wasn't his only victim. The second was a 21-year old girl. Reno didn't have any idea what was happening: the moment he regained control a second time, the red haired vampire found that his hands were covered with her blood. This time he knew.

". . . What the hell is wrong with me?" he groaned, running his stained hands through his hair frustrated.

Reno . . . where are you?

He froze, swallowing down a lump in his throat. Who the hell are you?

It's me, Reno. A hand gripped his shoulder, making the redhead jumpy. Good God, Reno. It's me, Elena. Your vampire-in-arms.

Reno shut his eyes. Don't joke around like that, 'Lena. He slowly pulled himself to his feet, brushing off several woodchips. I don't need to hear any damn sarcasm. A claw gripped his shoulder, making him stiffen.

". . . It's about time we caught up to you, Reno. . ." The red haired vampire unfroze, instantly grasping the metal arm cuff, catching a pale raven-haired figure around the waist. ". . . Didn't think I'd make it . . ."

The redhead swallowed, pulling on the man's red collar. "Take it easy, Vincent." There was dullness in the man's crimson irises, showing fatigue from loss of blood. Two healing scabs on his throat were hidden underneath torn cloth and several layers of bandages. " . . . This whole thing is my fault anyway."

"Don't blame yourself . . ." Vincent responded weakly.

Reno scoffed, propping him against the wall. "How can I not? I've caused enough problems, not to mention I've killed two people." Reno hung his head, dropping down beside the pale figure. The moment he let it slip, the vampire found himself pinned to the ground by the throat. Wha-What the hell-? He gagged, clawing at Vincent's grip.

"You fool. You've given them a new trail to follow."