Old Friend | Valerie Tulle

Chapter Three

 Valerie woke up the next morning, looked around her dreary flat, and thought that maybe today she would do something about it. Maybe she could get some bright-colored furniture, or paint her bedroom a bright, cheery color.

 She got up and dressed, and found herself walking around her flat, as if there was something she should be looking for, but couldn't think what. It wasn't until after a few minutes of wondering, when she began to feel an intense hunger, that she realized what was wrong with her.

 She didn't have any blood.

 How could she have been so stupid? She was so busy mourning losing Stefan that she had forgotten about the important things, like having blood stored away so she wouldn't desiccate.

 Well, she had two options now: go out and rob a blood bank, or go out and kill someone. Neither appealed much to her. But knowing she had to do something, Valerie left the flat, weighing her options. Where was there even a blood bank? This city was a maze to her now.

 She exited the building, and began walking down the street when she heard, "Valerie?" 

 She turned around. "Arthur? What are you doing here?" 

 "You gave me your address." He held up the little piece of paper she had scribbled it on. "I thought I'd pop in, see how you were."

 "I just saw you last night."

 "The first time in over a century, mind you. Are you off somewhere?"

 She nodded. "I need to get blood somehow. I'm...out."

 "Ah. The need for blood. Well, you don't have to worry about that. Come with me."

 Arthur led Valerie back down the street the way he had come.

 "Arthur, this is the tavern," Valerie said as the building came in sight.

 "I know," was all he said.

 They went through the empty front room and up a flight of stairs near the back. Up there was a cozy little flat.

 "Who lives here?" Valerie asked.

 "I do," Arthur replied.

 "You do? So...you own the place?"

 "I have for years. I must have forgotten to mention it last night."

 Arthur dragged a large cooler over, and flipped the top open.

 "There we are," he said, "One fine supply of blood bags. Take whatever you need." 

 "Where did you get all these?" Valerie asked, pulling one out.

 "It might be better if I don't tell you that story. Well, don't suck it all down that fast, you'll get a stomachache," he said jokingly. "Maybe you should take some home with you." 

 "Really?"

 "Well, why not? You clearly need them, given the way you just drank all that down."

 Valerie smiled. "Thank you, Arthur. I thought I was going to have to go break in somewhere." She looked around the flat. "So, this is actually where you live?"

 "I know. Whoever lived here before me had good taste in décor, so I didn't have to change much. You looked amazed to see such a well-furnished home."

 She shrugged. "My place isn't much so far, but I plan to change that."

 He smiled. "I like the sound of that. We could go furniture shopping, make a field day out of it."

 "I would, but I don't actually have any money."

 "Money?" Arthur repeated. "Why not just compel someone?"
 
 "Because I'd rather not," Valerie answered.

 "All right, then. Hey, how about this? You can work down in the tavern with me. I make money doing that. If you want to have an honest living, I'll pay you to work here."

 "You mean it's just you down there all the time?"

 "Well, I've thought about hiring people, but then I thought it would be far too much work keeping them all in line. But you can work here if you want. What do you say?"

 Valerie smiled again. "I think I like the idea. I'll, um, I'll give it a try."

 Arthur smiled back. "Then, welcome aboard, Ms. Tulle. I'll be glad to have you."