He took the apparatus from my hand and I noticed a slight rise in the corner of his mouth. Perhaps at this point I passed out again or perhaps this bald man had the fastest hands in the West but he seemed to have the needle full and sticking into his arm in seconds. I heard Sami express his puzzlement with a grunt and I was about to speak to our new friend when he started to draw his blood into the chamber. Blood? Since when is blood black? The hypodermic was full of a black liquid and, despite his sunglasses, I knew the man was looking and smiling right at me. Since when has blood been black? The man was not in a hurry to inject the mixture into himself, he was just looking at us and smiling inanely and licking his cracked lips. Either due to physiological reasons or this extremely strange situation that had the hairs on the back of my neck erect, I could feel my rush starting to abate. Something was not right and I saw Sami reach toward the ankle holster on his right leg. This spurred me into action.
“Monsieur, êtes-vous bien?”
“Monsieur, êtes-vous un vampire?”
“Mais oui, monsieur!”
Sami made a sound like he had swallowed his tongue. As he coughed and spluttered I tapped him on his foot with mine and as our eyes met I turned mine to the leather bag within which were the contents of The Trunk. He nodded.