Shan, Darren - Cirque Du Freak 02 - The Vampire's Assistant

Mr. Crepsley didn't say anything the whole way home, and when we arrived back at the Cirque Du Freak, he tossed me angrily to one side and pointed a finger at me.

"If you die," he said, "it is not my fault."

"Okay," I replied.

"Stupid boy," he grumbled, then stormed off to his coffin.

I stayed up a while longer and watched the sun rising. I thought a lot about my situation and what would happen when my strength faded and I began to die. A half-vampire who wouldn't drink blood; it would have been funny if it wasn't so deadly.

What should I do? That was the question that kept me awake long after the sun rose. What should I do? Forget about it and just drink human blood? Or stay true to my humanity and …die ?

CHAPTER TWENTY

Istayed inside my tent most of the day and didn't even go out to say hi to Sam when he came around. I was so sad. I didn't feel like I belonged anywhere anymore. I couldn't be a human and wouldn't be a vampire. I was somewhere in between the two.

I got a lot of sleep that night, and the next day I felt better. The sun was shining, and although I knew my problems hadn't gone away, I was able to overlook them for a while.

Evra's snake was sick. She'd picked up a virus, and Evra had to stay in to look after her.

When Sam showed up, we decided to visit that old deserted railroad station of his. Evra didn't mind being left behind. He'd come with us another time.

The railroad station was cool. There was a huge circular yard paved with cracked stones, a three-story house that had served as the guard's house, a couple of old sheds, and several abandoned train cars. There were also railroad tracks running everywhere you looked, overgrown with weeds and grass.

Sam and I walked along some of the tracks and pretended we were on tightropes way above the ground. Every time one of us slipped, he had to scream and pretend to fall fatally to earth. I was much better at the game than Sam, because my vampire powers meant my sense of balance was better than any human's.

We explored a few of the old cars. A couple were run down, but most were okay. Pretty dusty and dirty, but otherwise in good condition. I couldn't understand why they'd been left there to rot.

We climbed onto the roof of one of the cars and stretched out to sit in the sun.

"You know what we should do?" Sam said after a while.

"What?" I asked.

"Become blood brothers."

I propped myself up on an elbow and stared. "Blood brothers?" I asked. "What for? And how's it done?"

"It'd be fun," he said. "We each make a small cut on one of our hands, then join them together and swear an oath to be best friends forever."

"That sounds all right," I agreed. "Do you have a knife?"

"We can use some glass," Sam said. He slid over to the edge of the roof, reached down, and snapped a piece of glass out of one of the train-car windows. When he came back, he made a small cut in the fleshy part of his palm, then handed me the glass.

I was about to cut my palm when I remembered the vampire blood in my veins. I didn't think a small amount could do Sam any harm, but then again …

I lowered the glass and shook my head.

"No," I said. "I don't want to do it."

"Come on," Sam urged. "Don't be afraid. You only have to make a small cut."

"No," I said again.

"Coward!" he yelled. "You're afraid! Chicken! Coward!" He began to sing: "Fraidy cat, fraidy cat!"

"Okay, I'm a coward." I laughed. It was easier to lie than tell the truth. "Everybody's afraid of something. I didn't see you rushing to wash the wolf-man the other day."

Sam made a face. "That's different."

"Horses for courses," I said smugly.

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "It's something my dad used to say."

We joked around some more, then hopped down and crossed the yard to the guard's house. The doors had rotted off years ago, and most of the glass in the windows had fallen out. We walked through a couple of small rooms, then into a larger one, which had been the living room.

There was a huge hole in the middle of the floor, which we carefully avoided.

"Look up," Sam told me.

I did and discovered I was gazing directly at the roof. The floors in between had fallen in over the years, and all that was left of them were jagged edges around the sides. I could see sunlight shining through a couple of holes in the roof.

"Follow me," Sam said, and he led me to a staircase at the side of the room. He started up. I followed slowly, not sure if it was the smartest thing to do — the steps were creaky and looked as though they might collapse — but not wanting to be called a chicken twice in the same day.

We stopped at the third floor, where the stairs stopped. You could touch the roof from there, and we did.

"Can we get out on the roof?" I asked.

"Yes," Sam said, "but it's too dangerous. The shingles are loose. You could slide off. Anyway, there's something better up here than the roof."