South from San Felipe

Traveling through the desert in the SUV, unfortunately, left me alone with my thoughts… thoughts that inevitably turned to Mira.

Despite knowing on an intellectual level that getting to our base camp wouldn't make much difference, as we didn't know where she'd be until Friday, the irrational big sister part of me insisted that every minute counted, so I convinced David and Carter to continue driving another two hours past Guerrero Negro to the town of San Ignacio.

Though San Ignacio was possibly the prettiest place on the way down the peninsula, my mind could only think of two things, my sister being captured and tortured, and how good the blood of her captors would taste. Of course, they weren't here, but other people were and my mind wandered to them.

Thankfully, David was doing double duty as a guardian angel. He stopped me away from the others, "Alex. This morning, when you came to me and asked for my help, I gave you the rules, what were they?"

The question startled me and I had difficulty thinking back to just that morning. I hedged, "Um, something about not taking blood from people, not drinking blood, and only drinking your blood?" Though I deliberately phrased that last one maliciously and gave him my best maniacal grin.

Apparently I overdid it a bit as he pivoted and extended his left hand to chastise me, while his right hand went to rest on his holstered gun.

I'll spare you his admonishment and skip to the part where he told me he'd managed to get two bags of blood, O-negative and O-positive, and six bags of plasma from somewhere in the San Diego Office. David decided that today I'd get two hundred milliliters of blood, mixed with a hundred of plasma. The result was both too little and frustratingly bland, like if you mixed a cup of coffee with a cup of tap water.

So, there I sat, drinking diluted blood through a stupid little straw that was supposed to make me savor it or something, when a thought came to mind, "Hey, David. When do I get a gun?"

He eyed me suspiciously, "Really, you ask me that while gulping down blood as fast as you can suck it through that straw?"

"No, seriously, I've carried one for years, but I had to leave it in New York, so when can I get a new one?"

"Do you really need one? Don't you have special vampiric speed or something?"

Which, I'd never considered, but it didn't seem so at the time.

"Nope, just human speed, I think."

"Guh, fine. The team packed guns in the trailer, we'll get you one when you're done with your 'meal'," he conceded.