Chapter 22 - How to Explain?

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"Come on," Max said, because there was no way they were going back inside. "I'll explain everything at my hotel. We'll catch a cab."

"Not with you looking like that we won't," Scott said.

Max looked down at himself and kind of had to agree. His clothes did look like he had escaped from a bad horror movie.

"Here," Scott said and shrugged off his jacket.

For a moment Max was so shocked he didn't react.

"I need you to explain, okay?" Scott said. "And I don't fancy walking through L.A.."

Max had to agree with that reasoning and took the jacket.

"Thanks," he said, hoping the jacket would not be ruined by what was all over his clothes.

Scott was yet another actor who was taller than he was and wider across the shoulders, although nowhere near as big as Gian, so the jacket covered a multitude of sins.

They managed to hail a cab not far from the alley, and Max waved off the concierge at his hotel with a tale of cocktails gone wrong as they headed for the elevator.

"Help yourself to anything in the mini bar," he said as Scott followed him into his room. "I'm going to get changed."

He threw Scott's jacket onto the bed before grabbing some casual clothes from his suitcase and heading for the bathroom.

"I need to shower and get this shit off me," he decided before he closed the door. "I'll be quick and I'll get your jacket dry cleaned tomorrow."

Scott just nodded and went for the offered alcohol. Max really couldn't blame him.

Lots of warm water and soap, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt later, he stepped out of the smaller room feeling much more human. He was a little nervous about explaining everything, but it wasn't as if he hadn't done it before and Scott had already seen vampire 101. He found his guest sitting in the one arm chair in the room, holding a beer.

"Sorry about that," he apologised, since he had left Scott in the lurch, "who knew vampire goo was so difficult to get off."

Scott silently handed him another beer that he hadn't noticed sitting on the table. He accepted it even though he didn't really feel like drinking it, before sitting on the bed and pulling his legs up underneath him. He gave Scott a chance to gather his thoughts.

"What's the real story with the cross?" the other actor eventually asked.

He looked down at himself and realised the v-neck of his chosen shirt just showed the tip of the tattoo.

"It was part of the treatment they gave me to stop me becoming a vampire," Max replied and changed his mind, taking a swig of the beer. "When I was attacked in Moscow it was by an honest to god vampire and his bite was contagious. I wasn't kidnapped by my attacker at all, but I was taken by vampire hunters. They tried to help me."

"What else did they do?"

"They tried blood transfusions and herbs and even a couple of spells first," Max explained, "but none of it worked. The cross was the last chance. Vampires react badly to holy symbols of all kinds, something to do with the strength of faith on the human psyche. It hurt like a bitch when they did it, but I was on the verge of losing the battle and it did seem to be the turning point, forgive the pun."

"So it's like the movies?" Scott asked.

At least Scott wasn't freaking out, but then Max suspected that wasn't in the other man's nature. Scott had a reputation for being a calm, cool perfectionist.

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