Chapter Six
They woke him up and after first taking his restraints off, handed him a cup. Of animal blood. He drained it, noting how much better it tasted than his regular corpse blood. Maybe I need to go vegetarian more often, he mused. Then the situation came back to him.
"Ell?" Mick looked frantically for his son, finally locating the boy "talking" to the leader near the center of the cave's updrafting fire. The boy had a bowl of something steaming in his lap. There was a large silver spoon sticking out of it and by the looks of it, Elliott had smeared a lot on his face trying to lap it up before the spoon was offered.
Alright, St. John. He's okay. And I'm reasonably decent except for the silver burned wrists which were starting to heal after the blood was pro-offered. So what gives?
"Dad!" Elliott has spotted Mick and after first asking permission, goes over to his dad. "Are you okay?"
"Son, never better after seeing you." Mick gives his son a long hug. "What about you? And who's your new friend?"
"You mean Tor? He's the leader. I think he's some kind of an early Viking. Sounds like ancient Norse."
"Son, I knew you were smart but where the heck did you hear ancient Norse?"
"Uh, those old blue rays of the History Channel."
"Yeah. So what's he been saying?"
"Well, he seems to understand you're different. They must have had vampires back in the day. He doesn't seem real worried, anyway."
Mick feels less than heroic after that revelation. "Yeah, so what else?"
"Well, I couldn't figure it out before. He kept making this gesture. Sort of like with both hands cupping his chest. Then I looked around."
"Elliott, spill."
"Dad, do you see anyone here except for men?"
"Damn. I was afraid of this. They were out hunting – but not for venison. They need women."