Lancaster had to laugh again. He nodded, perhaps over-enthusiastic about it. At least, with the laughing, it would seem like he was over-enthusiastic. He turned the key in the ignition and the car started – he pulled out, and headed back for Lancaster’s.
”That’s what I meant by home,” he said. ”Not your home. My home. One of them, anyway,” he said. He opened his mouth to explain, but glancing sideways he understood that Aisha was not kidding. She was tired, fatigued. Maybe relief caused her body to collapse into rest – she wasn’t going to die anymore. Or maybe the change had just exhausted her, just as it had exhausted Lancaster. He had slept, too. The feeding had come later. He just nodded. He could explain everything else later. Or the next night. They had time, and there was no rush. Not anymore.
Once back at the pub, Lancaster would park the van out the back. There were some spaces out there reserved for staff only, and a back entrance through which he would carry Aisha. Although he got a few looks from the staff still working, no one questioned him about the girl he carried up the stairs, all the way up to the third floor. He took her straight to the bed, where he gently laid her out; he took off her shoes before he pulled the blanket up over her, leaving her side only to go back down to the car to collect her small bag of belongings.
After that, he wouldn’t go anywhere. He would linger, there on the third floor; he called Roxette and spoke to her in hushed tones in the storeroom nearby, so as not to disturb Aisha. The thrall knew to be ready, to be nearby. He’d text her when he needed her. Another phone call was made to Pi, to let her know where he was and what he had done – and why he might not be home. He would stay with Aisha, sleeping in the armchair nearby if the sun came up – and would wait for her to wake up again.
”That’s what I meant by home,” he said. ”Not your home. My home. One of them, anyway,” he said. He opened his mouth to explain, but glancing sideways he understood that Aisha was not kidding. She was tired, fatigued. Maybe relief caused her body to collapse into rest – she wasn’t going to die anymore. Or maybe the change had just exhausted her, just as it had exhausted Lancaster. He had slept, too. The feeding had come later. He just nodded. He could explain everything else later. Or the next night. They had time, and there was no rush. Not anymore.
Once back at the pub, Lancaster would park the van out the back. There were some spaces out there reserved for staff only, and a back entrance through which he would carry Aisha. Although he got a few looks from the staff still working, no one questioned him about the girl he carried up the stairs, all the way up to the third floor. He took her straight to the bed, where he gently laid her out; he took off her shoes before he pulled the blanket up over her, leaving her side only to go back down to the car to collect her small bag of belongings.
After that, he wouldn’t go anywhere. He would linger, there on the third floor; he called Roxette and spoke to her in hushed tones in the storeroom nearby, so as not to disturb Aisha. The thrall knew to be ready, to be nearby. He’d text her when he needed her. Another phone call was made to Pi, to let her know where he was and what he had done – and why he might not be home. He would stay with Aisha, sleeping in the armchair nearby if the sun came up – and would wait for her to wake up again.
