The Quest

Robyn awoke to the whine of the highway and the steady beat of the tires of the Westy. "The little Wino is awake." Rebecca nudged her cousin.
"Not going to live it down, am I?"
"No." Becca and Angelo said in chorus from the front seats.
"Thought so." Robyn let them assume what they wanted about the unplanned public 'nap'. "Where are we?"
"Old Strip." Ragazy answered. "Next stop, home." If he suspected anything, he wasn't saying.
"Mmm k" Robyn lay back down, thinking of last nights events. What was her preppy uncle doing in a Biker Bar? So not him --or was it? After all what did she really know about him? The Dr. Brown/ Mr. Kent version of the cool Dad or was he like Anne Rice's Louie? Her nose wrinkled at the thought. Were vampires like myths and fictional accounts? Mirth forced a smile in the darkness of the Westy.

The trio had been tight since their freshman year at Las Vegas High when Rebecca's cousin smooth talkin' Angelo Ragazy moved to town from San Antonio,Tx. Raven haired, green-eyed Rebecca McCann. Black Irish she claimed, rich, gorgeous, a snot at times and in luuuve with Robyn's mysterious uncle. Becca and Robyn- TROUBLE since the 3rd grade. As close as they were Robyn kept her own counsel about her uncle...

"A Pandora's Box that was not opened by my choosing." She whispered, feeling shamefully curious at the same time. Michael was the only family Robyn had. She was not going to loose him because of some stupid secret society of blood drinkers.

She would leave for Sedona in the morning as planned and give Michael some time alone. Maybe he'd come around and maybe he wouldn't. What he wouldn't tell her could get her killed. Whatever. She was tired and needed rest. Angelo and Rebecca waved to her as the doors of the private elevator closed.

The next morning she rented a truck and van from the stables, and then she & Windstorm were off down S. Hwy 95 towards the Interstate. When the owner of the stables asked where the two of them were of too. Robyn said Sedona then who knows, maybe home. The man sensed she didn't want to answer questions and left his patron's niece alone.

Snow fell on the Mountain roads of the Spars, slowing traffic almost to a halt. The thick white stuff clung to the landscape transforming it. Roaming appeared on the screen of the cell. "The wonders of technology. - Yeah, right" Robyn muttered. When they rolled into Flagstaff Robyn left a message on his voice mail. "I'm okay Tio. I need some time to think. Don't worry." Then turned the cell off and tossed it into the glove box. 5am.

Sunrise was nothing less than spectacular in this mystical place as the Rig wound its way down Oak Creek Canyon towards Sedona. There she could research in relative safety. The Artisan and New Age community there would not think the inquiries into the existence of the undead as odd. Several prominent scholars of the Occult, Myth and folk Lore lived here. An associate of her parents was last known to live out in the Verde River Valley. Instinct dictated that the many questions she had would be answered here. Nothing would be hidden.

The heavy snowfall in the mountains turned the 6-hour drive into a 10-hour one; finally they turned into the drive of the charming little cottage she had rented. Robyn tended to Windstorm's needs before her own. Brushing her down, seeing that the troth held fresh water and giving her fresh hay and oats before sinking into the deliciously hot water in the old cast iron tub and falling into an exhausted, dreamless sleep -many hours later the brilliant desert sunset shone through the French doors of the bath woke Robyn. Half frozen and feeling like a raisin Robyn crawled into bed.

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