José Ortiz's Arc

Chapter 5 of 6

The bell over the door rang while José was sweeping the lobby floor with a stiff broom. He looked up and there was Zack, coat damp from the sea air, standing just inside the mat. José set the broom against the wall and smiled the way he smiled at every guest. That smile made Zack’s heart skip a beat. José walked behind the desk and asked if Zack wanted a room. Zack asked for tea instead. They sat at the small table by the window. José poured from a chipped brown pot and watched steam curl between them. Zack held his cup with both hands and asked easy questions. How long had José run the place. Where was he from. What did he do before the coast. José answered and asked back, and Zack gave short answers that didn't quite match each other. An hour passed that way. José noticed Zack never drank. He noticed the man sat too still, like he had forgotten breathing was a thing bodies did. When Zack reached for the sugar his sleeve brushed the cup and knocked it off the edge. The porcelain broke on the floor in three clean pieces. José knelt to gather them. A shard slid under his thumb and opened a thin red line across the pad of his finger. Zack was already there with a white handkerchief, pressing it hard against the cut before José could pull back. "Sorry," Zack said. "Hold still." He wiped the finger, folded the cloth, and stood. He said he had somewhere to be. He left money on the table and walked out without looking back. José stayed on the floor with the broken pieces around his knees. He watched the door swing shut and the little bell go quiet. The handkerchief was gone. His finger throbbed under the small fold of skin Zack had pinched closed. Outside the window the tide pulled once, hard, against the base of the bluff, and a candle on the front desk guttered without wind. José stood. He looked at the door. "Vampire," he said, plain as naming a bird. He walked to the desk and opened the guest book to the page Zack had signed. He tore the page out, folded it into his shirt pocket, and went to lock the front door for the first time in three years. Whatever Zack wanted his blood for, José was going to know before Zack came back. And Zack would come back. Men who took a piece of you always did.