“He could spare a guy for that?” Boris scratched his nose.
“Ronnie takes his wine seriously.”
“Sheesh, I guess so.”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
Behind her, the yellow-eyed man emerged. He’d declined to share his name when Boris asked. Deep down, Jack thought it was better they didn’t know. That somehow, speaking it would conjure the otherworldly and dangerous, akin to opening a portal.
Jack couldn’t have a name like that dancing on the tip of his tongue for the rest of his life.
“You two,” he said, pointing first to Jack, then Boris with a long, gnarled finger. “Are backup only. Let me work, and we won’t have any problems.”
Boris bristled. Jack gritted his teeth and nodded with a little too much enthusiasm—a muscle in his jaw popped.
“Doubt that,” Boris muttered, voice so low that Jack barely heard him.
But the yellow-eyed man glared. “Cooperate, and we all have nothing to worry about.”
Jack kicked Boris in the ankle and smiled awkwardly. “Don’t worry, we’re just backup.”
“I’m not worried aboutyou,” the yellow-eyed man said. In a single fluid motion, he turned on his heel and stalked out the door.
When his footsteps had all but faded, Carla muttered, “Damn, he’s creepy.” She caught Jack’s hand in hers, squeezed, then trailed reluctantly out the door, careful to shut it behind her.
“Backup,” Boris grumbled. “Relegated to back up.” He paced to the window, separated the blinds with his fingers, and peered between them.
Jack couldn’timaginebeing disappointed by this. “Maybe it’s for the better. I’ve never shot a gun before in my life,” he admitted. The palms of his hands grew sweaty. He wiped them on his pants.
“Remember to take the safety off like I showed you, don’t point at anything you don’t wanna kill, and you should be fine.”
“I’m pretty sure there are more rules than that.”
“Yeah, but those are arbitrary.”
“I don’t think you know what that means.”
Boris rolled his eyes. “Means it’s up to me to decide.”
“But it’snotarbitrary if there are actual guidelines?—”
“Yeah, itis, because my whole life is arbitrary, OK?Idecide what matters to me.”
“Yeah?” said Jack, crossing his arms. “Like what?”
A flash of indignation. “I dunno. Lots of things. Why? What are you getting at? I live my life the wayIwant to, alright?”
Jack stared down at the carpet and tried not to flinch. He hadn’t the faintest idea how to live his life the way he wanted to. Wasn’t even sure what that would look like. “Sorry, that’s not—Sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry,” said Boris, sidling up to him, eyes downcast. “I’m just scared we’re gonna fucking die. I don’t like any of this.” When Jack didn’t say anything, he continued. “I thought I was gonna watch you die the other night. I don’t want to go through that again.” His voice was small, guarded. “I’m not cut out for this."
“I’ll try not to die,” Jack managed. “If you promise, too.”
Boris laughed, dark and throaty. “Yeah, fine, I’ll give it a shot.” He was close enough to touch. Close enough that Jack could feel the heat radiating from him. He flashed back to that night in the bed, terrified out of his mind waiting for the vampire to return, grounded only by Boris’s firm embrace and low voice.
Maybe it was wrong, but there was nothing Jack wouldn’t give to be there again, this time without the ever-pressing fear of death and despair. How might that night have gone if they weren’t recovering from an attack, watching for any sign of the vampire’s return?
But Jack was with Carla (at least, for now), and Boris… Boris was an enigma. Jack wasn’t even sure if Boris was as haunted by those quiet moments as he was, or if he’d already forgotten, lost in a haze of bikini babes and fast cars.
