The Human

  I groaned tiredly as I was shaken awake. My captor handed me my daily meds and drink once I sat up. “Take a quick shower, we’re heading into town for a bit.”

  The outfit I wore when he found me at The Diner was cleaned and waiting for me on the bathroom counter after my shower. Does he do the laundry? Does he pay someone else to do it?

  He had me jog with him into the city, somewhere near the neighborhood where we met. Other than the day I escaped, I hadn’t gotten this much cardio in since he took me. Ugh. I felt so out of shape. But him? He might as well have just gotten off the couch to get a snack.

  We passed a food truck and he placed an order. A few minutes later, someone inside handed him a chicken kebab. He held it out for me at first but seemed to think better of it, instead breaking off pieces of the chicken and handing me a bite at a time.

  Fair. I would’ve at least considered stabbing him with the skewer.

  “You guys know where you’re goin’?” a woman walked up to us, not unlike how he approached me the first night.

  We were in a tourist-centric part of the city and most locals would avoid this particular spot; they were part of a chain and would be a little more expensive than most mom-and-pop options. Did he choose this food truck intentionally?

  “We’re… actually a little turned around,” The vampire looked genuinely relieved, flawlessly able to sell his act. Like a setting being changed, he became a different person for her – someone friendly and exploitable. “We’re hopin’ to meet up with friends, but we’ve been walking for a bit now. I think the stupid GPS is sending us in circles…”

  That wasn’t a lie. Tourists and visitors easily get lost down here and people like her swoop in to take advantage. And people like him.

  “It does that down here! Where’re you tryin’ to get to?”

  “They’re supposed to be at this bar. Hooper’s? Hoo-ver’s, maybe? I thought it was on Magnolia but–”

  I hate how good at this he is. But, why are we doing this?

  “Oh! Hoover’s isn’t that far, actually. I’m headed in that direction…”

  “If you can take us at least part of the way that’d be a big help.”

  She, of course, seemed eager to help – she was pulling the exact con I expected from the vampire the day we met. The woman led us down a street, then cut over into a back alley. ‘A shortcut,’ she called it. I looked around and listened closely; she certainly wasn’t as physically imposing as either of us were and should have at least one partner lurking nearby to even the odds.

  I paused at the entrance to the alley. We both knew this was a trap and I didn’t want to walk into it. He did. My captor grabbed my hand and pulled me into the passageway with him.

  “If you take the next left ahead, it’ll be on that road,” she said as we reached the other side. “You boys got it from he–”

  “Keep your hands where I can see them!” A man approached us from behind, pressing the barrel of his gun into the vampire’s back.

  The woman pulled out a gun of her own and aimed it at me.

  One wrong move and I’m dead. But you? I could disarm her but what would her partner do? If I had the same information he did, I’d shoot me if I had her gun. Can I move fast enough to get her gun and take her partner out before he fires? If I was lucky, the man would shoot the vampire first, but I didn’t like the odds.

  My captor put his hands up, mimicking ‘scared’ almost perfectly. He was glaring at the woman but seeing what I would do. You want me to fight, don’t you? I’m not playing your fucking game. I looked directly at him and slowly raised my hands.

  “You!” Her partner kicked the heel of my shoe to get my attention. “Give me everything in your pockets!”

  The vampire turned slightly, getting a better look at the guy behind him. I could see it, just barely: he’s getting angry.

  “I don’t have things, I’m not allow–”

  “Don’t be stupid, guy!“ He was about to be so disappointed.

  I shrugged and lowered an arm, turning out my front and back pockets. Empty, as I tried to warn him. I switched arms and repeated the process on the other side.

  “Are you fucking–!?” He was cut off, the skewer I wasn’t trusted to hold now protruding from his throat.

  The man fell back on his butt from the impact and immediately pulled at the stick, dropping his gun to free both hands. His attempts to yell at us came as loud, gurgled wheezes. His partner was already disarmed – the vampire covered the woman’s mouth to muffle her screams and bit her neck at least as roughly as he bit mine.

  The other half of the duo crawled backwards into the alley, stopping every few feet to try pulling at the skewer again. His gun was still laying in the open where he dropped it. Can I grab it before he stops me? I glanced at my captor, then back to the gun. If I get it, then what? Would shooting him in the head or heart kill him or just slow him down? The man also remembered his gun was an option and shifted to his knees, creeping forward while coughing up blood as he gagged on the skewer in his throat.

  Now that the risk of being shot was back on the table, I stepped over to the gun and kicked it out of his immediate reach. Behind me, the now limp woman was dragged across the ground by her neck tossed in the alley’s dumpster like a bag of trash.

  The male partner knew he was next. He backed up once again with garbled begs of “No! No!” as the wood and blood continued to obscure his airway. The vampire crouched over him and used the wooden protrusion like a handle to expose the man’s neck, not bothering to muffle his screams when he bit him.

  My eyes wandered back to the gun while my captor fed on the man. I can’t assume being shot in the head or heart will kill him. It might give me a chance to get a head start so I can hide. That’s it.

  I was in the middle of the city with what should be a world of options to get away from him and somehow I felt even more trapped than I did back at the apartment. He’ll look for me until he finds me, just like last time. He’s learned more about me since then and he knows Beth now. If we were trying to get someone out of hiding, a relationship like mine with Beth is exactly what we would leverage. He’ll take her and make sure I know, regardless of where I’m holed up. And she’s dead as soon as he has her, he’ll only end her suffering sooner if I go back to him.

  The man’s body joined the woman’s in the dumpster and we were alone in the alley. The vampire watched me from feet away, statue-like. Only his eyes moved – he closed them for seconds at a time before he resumed his intense stare. Is he trying to calm down? Is he mad at me for refusing to play his game? Blood covered his hands, mouth, and his left cheek. He slowly approached me and briefly cupped my face; his hands were sticky with drying blood.

  “That’s almost been you.” He kissed me, their blood still on his lips and now on mine. “Twice.”

  “If only I could be so lucky.” I wiped my lips on my shoulder and spat to the side – the blood could have something viral and I couldn’t risk it getting into my mouth. I shouldn’t have taken that risk with his blood, either. What diseases has he come in contact with by drinking people’s blood? Is his own condition contagious? Has him biting me exposed me to anything already?

  He was laughing – not unlike when he was amused, but a bit more sinister. “Why aren’t you scared?”

  “I’m terrified.”

  “You should be, but you’re not. Not when I followed you around the city, or when I bit you. Not when you woke up in my bed, or even when I took you the second time.” His hands wrapped loosely around my neck and he rubbed my throat with his thumbs. “You showed no fear when I compelled Elizabeth, and I know part of you felt P’s guy, Willie, got what he deserved.”

  He began to squeeze and his eyes intensely held mine. Fortunately, he removed his hands from my neck before he escalated, like usual. He moved slowly, the excitement from moments ago fading into a questionable calm, and slid his hands down my body to my hips. “You had a gun aimed at your chest tonight and you didn’t flinch. I just killed two people in front of you. Again, why aren’t you scared?”

  His fingers dug in as well as they could through the jeans as he pulled me closer. My captor tried to kiss me again, but I shielded my mouth and neck with my arm. “Do you want me to be?”

  He gave the back of my wrist a quick bite and I lowered my arm, knowing I could receive worse than he initially planned just for denying him. “A month ago I would have, without hesitation, said yes.”

  “And now?”

  He left me to wash his hands and face at a spigot in the alley. I also had blood on mine and I waited behind him. He turned the water off when he finished. “You can clean up when we get home,” he said, while drying his face with his shirt.

  Oh, fuck you. He grabbed my hand and started to lead us the way we came. “What do you want now?” I pressed.

  More of his amused laughter, followed by silence.

  I had bits and pieces of his answer. I still wasn’t confident about how they all fit together, what was true, what wasn’t, or what had been exaggerated or reframed so that it would still make some sort of sense.

  We walked back through the busier part of the city. Eyes lingered too long on my face and neck as people tried to decide whether it was blood or makeup; I tried to walk at a faster pace but he didn’t let me. Once we made it back to the quieter outskirts, we jogged the rest of the way to the apartment.

  The space smelled… different. The counters were tidy, and the couch and chairs were clean. There were no visible signs of blood on the couch or floor, which had been swept and mopped. Bread and other non-refrigerated groceries now sat on the counter.

  He picked up a bag and looked in it, then showed the contents to me. It was clothing, much closer to what I was wearing now and not the pajama-like options he usually left out for me.

  “We should have more nights like tonight.”

  What does he think tonight was, exactly?

  The bathroom had been cleaned, too. Including the mirror, where bloody handprints were clearly visible on my cheeks and faint around my neck. I dampened a hand towel and started with my face.

  “Hungry?” He stood behind me and watched as I removed the last of his latest art project.

  I meant to say ‘yes,’ but what came out instead was, “Will I ever leave here?”

  “We left today.”

  “Can I go home?”

  “You are home.”

  He knew what I was asking, but I was trapped in this stupid game. “Leave here without you. Leave you.”

  “Never.” I could hear his grin in his voice and confirmed it as I turned to toss the towel in the hamper, our eyes meeting; he blocked the doorway, keeping me trapped in the room. “You belong to me and I’m not gonna let you go.” He said it so matter-of-factly, as though it baffled him that I’d even think to ask.

  “I belong to no one.” Especially not to you.

  “You are mine.” He tensed, his words escaping with a possessive rumble, but he stayed where he was.

  I looked away with an annoyed sigh. I had so many questions that I just couldn’t articulate. I just kept thinking ‘why.’ Why? Why? He continued to block my exit but slowly relaxed.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked again, as though the previous exchange was insignificant.

  “Yes.”

  The next ten minutes were quiet. He made a tuna salad sandwich and cut fruit and veggies for a side. His eyes stayed on me as I ate.

  “How much of what you’ve said to me is the truth?” I finally asked.

  “I may omit details or avoid giving you an answer, but everything I’ve told you is the truth or my actual opinion.”

  “How can I believe that?”

  “’I’m sure it’s hard for someone who does the work you do to trust others.”

  I was hesitant to give him any information he didn’t already know. But, I didn’t know what he knew. “What work do I do?” Let’s start here.

  The corners of his mouth twitched, betraying his attempts to hide his amusement. “I’m willing to answer any question you have for me, but some answers come with a price you’ll have to pay up front.”

  “What’s the price?” You already take my blood whenever you feel like it. You’ve made sure I have nothing else other than what you give me. The only other thing I have is infor-

  “For every question you have, I could have one of my own.”

  Information. Of course. Another fucking game.

  “Then I don’t have any questions.”

  I finished the sandwich, trying to hide my own amusement as his left his face. I’m not playing his games. I don’t want to even be tempted. I’ll just have to work with what I know. He knows the type of work I do, even if he doesn’t have all of the details. He could have met Beth before he took me to The Diner and wiped her memory of the encounter. He could’ve learned anything if he knew the right question to ask. He could’ve lied about meeting Paul.

  He’s clearly smart. Manipulative. He’s good at what he does. He knows I know he’s manipulative – he’d want to appeal to that, to let me think I’m catching on to things he wants me to believe or is fine with me knowing. Flatter my ego. Meaning, I can’t trust that any conclusion or assumption I’ve made is correct, just what he’s successfully making me believe.

  He’s transactional; food for my blood, information for information. What is he collecting payment for when he kisses me? When he forces me to cuddle with him, sometimes naked? Is it for the clothes he lets me wear? For washing the dishes I’ve used?

  The vampire reached for the empty plate but I grabbed it first. “I got it. Thanks for the meal.” I have to stop taking on debt. I owe him nothing.

  He went for a shower and I joined him in the bathroom again shortly after; it was the one place I could talk to him without him putting his hands on me, at least until he got out. I’d leave before then, this time.

  “Here to pick up where we left off last night?”

  “Yes.” He had things to say last night, and now it was my turn. I could at least seem like I was giving him information without giving him anything new or important.

  “Mmm...” He pulled the curtain back briefly, an eyebrow raised inquisitively.

  You wish I meant it that way. “I thought you were following me, that you took me, because of my job.” Hired by Tannenbaum or Charles. “I can’t be sure that isn’t what this is, or was.” But does it matter? I’m still stuck here. With you. “I can guess why you wanted to talk to Beth, and why you wanted me there when you did. But, I don’t know why you need to know what you do, the extent of what you know, or how you plan to use that information. I don’t know what your intentions are with me, or with the people I know, just how your actions have affected me. Either way, I can’t trust myself at the moment and I definitely don’t trust you.” Fuck, I didn’t plan to say that much.

  Other than the falling water, it was quiet on the other side of the curtain. I had nowhere to go that wasn’t within these walls but I wanted to get as far as possible from him. I headed into the main room and sat near the corner on the floor. I’m going to die before I figure any of this out, whether he kills me first or my heart stops.

  He left the bathroom some time later and leaned over the back of the chair that was across from me. “I wouldn’t trust me either.” I wasn’t looking back at him but I could feel his gaze while he waited for my acknowledgement.

  “That’s comforting.”

  “I genuinely had a good time those first two nights. I can usually predict how interactions will go or what the other person will say. You didn’t fall for my shit but you didn’t push me away. You didn’t attempt to appease or flatter me in any way, but you didn’t insult me. You didn’t try to hide or get help.” His voice was getting closer. I briefly looked over and confirmed he was approaching me, still undressed. “You knew I was there, you knew I was stalking you, and you weren’t afraid. At first I thought you were just… naive.” He bent over just enough to grab me under my arms and lift me, carrying me over to one of the chairs. “But you knew exactly what I was.”

  He sat down first and pulled me backwards into his lap, then wrapped his arms around me like a seatbelt to hold me in place.

  “I didn’t know what you were until you bit me.” The second time.

  He shook with his quiet laughter and nuzzled that side of my neck. “You knew enough.”

  He slid a hand under the front of my shirt, lightly dragging his palm and fingertips across my skin. His other arm remained across my chest. “I just showered and you’re sitting on me in dirty clothes,” he muttered, as if any part of that sentence was my fault.

  “I’m happy to get up.”

  He growled in my ear and held me tighter. “I was going to kill you. I was so sure of it…” his other hand wrapped around my throat for the second time tonight, “...up until the moment I wasn’t.”

  “Is this where you say something that makes me feel good? Or where you tell me I’m special?”

  “It’s where I tell you that you should be dead.”

  Because those were your orders? “Were you hired to kill me?”

  “I was going to take you home – to your home – and make you experience everything you let me imagine with your teasing. I’m sure you’re starting to get an idea of how much suffering I would have squeezed into your remaining hours.”

  The vampire’s breath hit my neck and shoulder like it does before he bites me. Before he kisses me. I closed my eyes and focused on not giving him the reaction he wanted.

  “But, nothing went as I expected. First, I couldn’t compel you – I’ve encountered it before but it’s rare. And, it was that moment when you failed to comply that I knew I’d have to kill you at the end of our night.”

  I sighed. And yet, I’m still here.

  “Then, you took a swing at me and bolted,” he said, with a laugh. “Running from me is among the worst decisions you could have made, as you learned. It shuts off whatever logical portion of my brain and I switch to instinct — I will chase you, I will catch you, and I will kill you.”

  Seeing him today with the two thieves in the alley better clarified a lot of what happened to me that night.

  “You bled so perfectly for me and I was too excited to stop myself from finishing you off. And then you tried to gut me.”

  I tried not to smile. If I was sent back to the hood of that car knowing what I do know, I would’ve stuck my knife in you sooner and kept cutting you open until I passed out.

  “You driving away gave me a chance to reset. I’d had enough of your blood that the hunger wasn’t influencing my decisions, and my energy was rerouted from aggression to damage control. I didn’t think you’d make it very far but it would’ve been so bad for me if you did.”

  “How far did I make it?” I remember getting in the car, but not much after that.

  “It took you several blocks to pass out. You were barely hanging on when I caught up to you. It wouldn’t have taken much for me to end it.”

  “But that wasn’t the job?” Job or not, I want an answer I can believe.

  He laughed, the hand under my shirt sliding up to my chest. He moved his other arm from my throat to my lap. I held that hand – I’d rather give him something to do than let him find it.

  “I decided I’d get you better so I could kill you as brutally as I initially planned. Keeping you here would let me drag that out indefinitely. I can’t be sure,” he made it clear he was imitating my tone from earlier, in the bathroom, “that isn’t what I still want.”

  Is he avoiding my question, or is this his way of answering it?

  “I think part of me will always want that ending,” he added.

  “And the other part of you?”

  “Wants this. To hold you close and never let you go. I’ve known this since the second night you were here in this apartment. You hadn’t woken up yet and I was, once again, seconds from killing you when it hit me.”

  That’s such bullshit.

  “It has been a long time since I felt as right as I do when I’m around you. Or with your body pulled tight against mine.” He moved his hand from my chest to my thigh.

  “Was it a partner or your last hostage?” Stop dodging my questions.

  “If you were anyone else, things would have gone so differently. I don’t date and I definitely don’t bring anyone home.”

  There it is, the ‘you’re special’ I was expecting.

  “The first night we met? A good chance you went home at the end of our night with a few days of recovery in your immediate future. Until I learned I couldn’t compel you, that is.”

  “You talked to me for two nights. You still don’t know me.”

  “I know enough.” He tucked his chin into my neck and rubbed his beard against my skin.

  I wasn’t normally ticklish but this was starting to get to me. I raised my shoulder to cut off his access. He moved to the other side of my neck after giving my thigh a squeeze.

  “I want to know more. So far, every answer I get leads to more questions.”

  Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? “Like what?” What do you actually want to know about me?

  “Like, Elizabeth.” I sighed, assuming I’d regret whatever words left his mouth next. “She’s not your real mom. Why did she have to be a mom to you?”

  That’s not the question I expected. I thought about it for a moment, and considered how he could use my answer to his benefit. “I was… five… when my parents died.” That’s all you’re getting.

  My parents and I were exposed to a contaminant that permanently mutated one of our genes. The only difference was how quickly I received treatment, and how well I responded to it. The effects of the mutation had already caused too much damage to their bodies by the time they were found for the same treatments to be effective.

  And, I wasn’t cured, I still needed a shot every month to silence that gene. Beth gave me my last dose when I escaped but I’ve already lost track of exactly how much time I’ve been back here. How quickly will it kill me once I miss the next dose?

  “She knows the work you do. And what I am.”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  What did you expect? “Anyone who saw what I looked like when you took me there would.”

  “I wanted her to know you’re mine.”

  Before we went to The Diner, did he think Beth and I were a couple?

  He must have seen my face; he started laughing again. “Maybe P is the one that needed to know, instead.”

  Oh, that’s worse.

  “Or… not.” More laughter. “Were you in a relationship?”

  Yes, a very passionate romance with my freedom. “I’m sure you killed P and I wouldn’t be surprised to learn Beth is also dead. Why would I tell you about anyone else in my life?”

  “Dead to you, just like that? That’s cold.”

  I’m cold? “If you don’t need to kill, why do you?”

  “I want to. I like it. I’d enjoy killing you, especially.”

  His answer was nothing I shouldn’t have already come to expect from him. He phrases things in specific ways just to see what gets under my skin. The real question is why? What does he find so enjoyable about killing? I’m responsible for a number of deaths; none of it was for fun.

  “Disappointed?” he pushed, after I’d been quiet for a few minutes. “You asked.”

  I answered his previous question, instead. “I don’t date, either.”

  “Until now.”

  No. “That’s not what this is,” I argued.

  “Bedtime, let’s get you out of those dirty clothes.” He lifted me to my feet as he stood. “And, it’s a little what this is.” He was so smug.

  The Vampire

  Michael was asleep when I returned to the apartment. I got undressed and cleaned myself up before I joined him. He laid spread out in the center of the bed on his tummy; I settled in beside him, my head on the back of his shoulder like a pillow so I could see the door. This didn’t wake him. Once he had an opportunity to sleep, he was usually out.

  Even fighting the sleepy pull of Day, I’d normally wake up long before whoever P might send next could break in. But, I am exhausted. It’s different for every vampire, but it takes a lot of energy for me to compel anyone for so long or so frequently over such a short period of time.

  It wasn’t just Willie tonight, there were a few times The Doctor had me push for more specifics from the interviewee – I’d be an idiot to be too confident in my ability to get up out of a deep sleep today. I didn’t hear or see anything on the drive back to the apartment that would suggest someone was nearby. Didn't mean they weren’t coming.

  The day must’ve gone by uneventfully and I was up as soon as The Sun set. I scheduled a Cleaner to come to the apartment during a period of down-time while I was with The Doctor. I mostly wanted them to get the living room scrubbed clean – anything beyond that would be a bonus. First, I needed to get Michael out of here. Like with The Doctor, it was better to limit his contact with people I knew to what was actually necessary. For now, at least.

  After I dressed, I grabbed the meds I usually sat out for him first thing and roused Michael from a deep sleep. “Take a quick shower.” Is he awake enough to process what I’m saying? “We’re heading into town for a bit.”

  When I last did laundry, I washed the clothes he was wearing when I found him at that diner. I also took pictures of them and their sizes and sent those to a shopping service I hired after my plans to buy clothes for him myself was canceled yesterday. As was made apparent when we visited Elizabeth together, I didn’t have much else here that fit him properly.

  We headed downstairs together when he was ready. “Try to keep up,” I teased, then led him into the city at a slow jog.

  For being cooped up most of the month, he did better than I expected. The streets were decently busy tonight – if I were out here alone and looking for something quick and easy, there were quite a few options roaming about. Two men walking together will mostly deter trouble, so I need to find a way to draw it to us.

  I glanced at Michael in thought. I gave you some of my blood this morning, but with how you reacted after Willie bled in front of you, I should get you something to eat first. I can help you manage whatever else may come when we get home. A food truck was conveniently nearby and I ordered the most filling option they had.

  The woman inside passed a chicken kebab back through the window and I was in the process of giving it to him when I caught my mistake. The last time we were in public and you had something sharp, you stabbed me with it. Not gonna chance it. I broke off pieces for him, instead.

  Light footsteps approached us from behind; a woman, most likely. “You guys know where you’re goin’?”

  Yep. I turned to face the voice, and acted as happy to see her as I could without overdoing it. “We’re… actually a little turned around. We’re hopin’ to meet up with friends, but we’ve been walking for a bit now.” Hmm, let her feel like she’s my best option? I’m surprised someone her size would attempt anything. “I think the stupid GPS is sending us in circles…”

  “It does that down here! Where’re you trying to get to?”

  I think I’ve got you. “They’re supposed to be at this bar. Hooper’s? Hoo-ver’s, maybe? I thought it was on Magnolia but…” There’s not a bar here with that name, how good are you at improv?

  “Oh! Hoover’s isn’t that far, actually. I’m headed in that direction…”

  And in which direction would that fake bar be? “If you can take us at least part of the way that’d be a big help.” There’s no way you’re out here working alone. You are way too sure of yourself.

  We had already followed her for a few blocks when she turned down an alley. Michael froze as we approached – he suggested I was doing something like this when we first met, so he knew where this was headed. There was another heartbeat nearby, waiting in ambush on the other side of the building.

  She noticed the hesitation and spoke up from the other side of the alley. “If you take the next left ahead…” I held Michael’s hand and pulled him along. “If you take the next left ahead,” she repeated, gesturing, as a man snuck closer behind us, “it’ll be on that road. You boys got it from he–,”

  “Keep your hands where I can see them!” Metal pressed against my back. Michael turned slightly to glance back at the man and his weapon, but his attention was immediately drawn back to the woman. She kept a few feet of distance but her gun was pointed at his chest.

  If one of them shoots me, it’ll hurt but I’d be fine. If they shoot him, I might not be able to act fast enough to save him. I already regretted putting him in this situation. Michael was quietly working through his options – he had the same look on his face when I confronted him near his car. His attention shifted between the woman and her partner, but he paused briefly each pass to glare at me.

  I couldn’t risk him doing something that would cause the other person to react so I lifted my arms to show surrender and hoped he’d follow suit. The man still had the gun on me but I’d kill her first for threatening Michael. I’m going to rip your arm off. Beat you to death with it. Michael reluctantly, angrily, raised his hands. Good boy.

  “You!” The man nudged Michael’s foot with his and I glanced behind me. “Give me everything in your pockets!”

  You don’t get to touch him.

  “I don’t have things, I’m not allow–”

  “Don’t be stupid, guy!“

  You don’t get to talk to him that way. After I finish beating her to death, that arm’s going straight up your ass.

  I studied the man as he watched Michael turn out his empty pockets. He was becoming more and more livid; the gun left my back and he swung it at Michael. “Are you fucking–!?”

  I yanked the gun out of the woman’s grip and jammed the stick into her partner’s neck before the butt of his gun contacted Michael’s head. The woman was ready to scream and I covered her mouth just before I bit her. My attention stayed with the man to ensure he wasn’t still a threat. He dropped his gun and left it behind. Will Michael pick it up? Use it?

  Fortunately, her struggling was minimal and helped fight the desire to tear her apart. I wasn’t ready for him to see me lose that much control. The man tried to come back for his gun and Michael used his foot to send it across the brick path to the other side of the walkway. It was his turn, anyway. I noticed the dumpster halfway down the alley threw her away with the rest of the garbage.

  “No! No!” The man sputtered, and he tried to create more distance between us. I lowered myself over him and bit him too. I’d regret how much I ate later but it was better for me than the other ending I’d planned. Tonight, at least. He joined the other human waste in the bin when I was done.

  And then there was Michael, the last remaining life in the alley. I wanted to snuff what I’d just killed to protect. I closed my eyes and held my breath so I wasn’t taking in his scent. He was remarkably collected for what he just witnessed, and that helped.

  You know, you’ve experienced, what I am. You watched me feed from this pair just as I have you. They died, and I’ve brought you close to death. I dumped their bodies because they were nothing. I could do the same thing to you and you’re still not afraid.

  There were so many opportunities you could’ve taken tonight and you went for none of them. You could’ve taken the gun from the woman. As Intelligence, Michael would’ve been taught how to disarm an attacker – it’s a basic self-defense tactic. Or, picked up the man’s gun once he dropped it. Or tried to sneak off while my attention was on them. You stayed. You prevented the man from harming either of us when he returned for his gun and you trusted me to take care of the rest. To take care of you.

  Michael didn’t seek me out like The Doctor did at the start of our working relationship. He doesn’t use me for my abilities. That I’m a vampire means nothing to him, it’s just part of my biology like my hair color or eyes. He accepts me and I didn’t know I needed that until he gave it to me. And I’ve almost killed him. I still want to kill him. I want him.

  Michael stayed in place as I approached him. I held his face as I fought the inner voice that encouraged me to consume him and kissed him instead. “That’s almost been you. Twice.” We can make it a third time right here.

  I was messier than I realized; my hands left prints on his cheeks and blood colored his lips. He wiped his face and spit as soon as I gave him space. Would you have spit it out if it were my blood?

  “If only I could be so lucky.” You tease. You should know better by now. I wish you could experience what goes through my head in these moments. You wouldn’t survive it but killing you would feel So. Fucking. Good.

  “Why aren’t you scared?” Of me. Of anything.

  “I’m terrified.” Don’t test me. Answer the question.

  “You should be, but you’re not.” What do I have to do to actually get you there? “Not when I followed you around the city, or when I bit you.” You tried to fight me. You tried to escape. You froze and accepted your fate. But you were never scared. I touched my fingertips to the mostly healed wound. “Not when you woke up in my bed, or even when I took you the second time.” I gazed into his eyes as I placed my hands around his throat. “You showed no fear when I compelled Elizabeth, and I know part of you felt P’s guy, Willie, got what he deserved.” I teased his windpipe with my thumbs then started applying pressure, but stopped myself before I took it too far.

  To remove the temptation, I dropped my hands from his neck. “You had a gun aimed at your chest tonight and you didn’t flinch. I just killed two people in front of you.” And you watched me. Accepted me. I wanted him, needed him, and I pulled him tight against me. “Again, why aren’t you scared?”

  He knew I was coming – he used an arm to block my access to his face and neck. I didn’t have to let this stop me, and I reminded him by nipping at his skin. He moved his arm and I noticed the new prints I’d left on his neck. I need to find somewhere to get cleaned up before we walk back through town.

  “Do you want me to be?”

  Scared of me? Yes. No. I’d enjoy you either way. I heard water dripping; the building opposite the dumpster had an outdoor faucet. I mulled over his question as I started to wash up. “A month ago I would have, without hesitation, said yes.”

  “And now?”

  It’s still ‘Yes,’ but now as a dissertation with a frustrating amount of footnotes. Michael waited for his turn, but ‘covered in blood’ was my favorite look on him and I wanted him to wear it a little longer. “You can clean up when we get home.”

  I grabbed his hand – I liked holding it, liked when he held mine. The air must’ve been colder than I realized, his skin was a little cool to the touch.

  “What do you want now?” he asked.

  I glanced at him, my delight certainly visible at the surface. I want you. Give yourself to me, or accept that you are mine.

  It was still early when we made it home. The Cleaner worked fast while we were away and what I ordered was dropped off and put away with the exception of a bag of new clothes. I peered inside and saw several shirts and pants which I then showed Michael. “We should have more nights like tonight.”

  He had nothing to say and headed for the bathroom instead. I hope you like what you see in the mirror just as much as I do. I double-checked that all of the groceries I requested actually arrived then joined him. He used a small towel to remove the blood from his skin. I want to smear on more. Paint you red from head to toe. His eyes met mine in the mirror.

  “Hungry?” You’re not in the kitchen uncontrollably snacking, so that’s a good sign.

  “Will I ever leave here?”

  Why would you? “We left today.”

  “Can I go home?”

  Why are you asking questions you already know the answer to? “You are home.”

  “Leave here without you. Leave you.”

  In a body bag, maybe. I didn’t like his line of questioning but I could still entertain myself. “Never. You belong to me and I’m not gonna let you go.” You are mine.

  He turned to face me; his posture told me he was eager to argue and I got ready to shut it down. “I belong to no one.”

  You don’t know how wrong you are. My eyes met his, as though I would be able to compel him. “You are mine,” I repeated as assertively as possible, this time out loud. I’ll show you how mine you are. Fuck you while you’re corned you in the shower and pinned against the back wall. While you’re bent over the back of the couch. Haul you off to bed where every time you look up at me, you’ll see how much I’m enjoying myself inside you.

  He maintained eye contact with me for a moment longer then turned away with an angry huff. I stayed in the doorway and my eyes didn’t leave him. That’s the first time I told you that you’re mine. Now you know. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes.”

  While he finished cleaning his face and neck, I headed to the kitchen and made him a sandwich. I added as much finely chopped celery and spinach to some tuna, mayo, and hardboiled egg as I thought I could get away with, then cut up some veggies and fruit that I knew he’d eat for the side.

  He joined me shortly and, after he was a few bites in, asked, “How much of what you’ve said to me is the truth?”

  Fair question. “I may omit details or avoid giving you an answer, but everything I’ve told you is the truth or my actual opinion.” I would never lie to you.

  “How can I believe that?”

  You can’t. “’I’m sure it’s hard for someone who does the work you do to trust others.”

  “What work do I do?”

  Cute. “I’m willing to answer any question you have for me.” Actually, am I? “But some answers come with a price you’ll have to pay up front.” There’s things you won’t tell me; maybe I’ll have an answer for you that you’ll find worth the trade. Like, who is P?

  “What’s the price?”

  “For every question you have, I could have one of my own.”

  “Then I don’t have any questions.”

  Bawk bawk. No fun.

  He cleared the rest of the plate in silence. I reached for it but he stopped me. “I got it. Thanks for the meal.”

  That’s… odd, but okay. I needed a shower, anyway; I could only clean myself up so well in the alley.

  I’d just started washing my body when Michael’s footsteps came down the hall. They stopped as he entered the bathroom and he leaned against the counter. I’m surprised you’re risking round two. “Here to pick up where we left off last night?”

  “Yes.”

  Wait, what? “Mmm…” I peeked out at him. Will you join me, or are you waiting for me to get out?

  “I thought you were following me, that you took me, because of my job.”

  Oh, we’re continuing this.

  “I can’t be sure that isn’t what this is, or was. I can guess why you wanted to talk to Beth, and why you wanted me there when you did.”

  I already told you why.

  “But, I don’t know why you need to know what you do, the extent of what you know, or how you plan to use that information.”

  I wanted to bring you to your breaking point, but it didn’t involve you mentally torturing yourself like this.

  “I don’t know what your intentions are with me, or with the people I know, just how your actions have affected me.”

  Shit.

  “Either way, I can’t trust myself at the moment and I definitely don’t trust you.” Footsteps again, this time leaving the bathroom. I almost stopped him, but what would I say?

  I found Michael on the floor in the far corner of the living room when I came out. I didn’t want to push him, not yet. He was right to feel the way he did; he knew I didn’t have the best intentions and the work I was sure he did also involved navigating shady situations.

  “I wouldn’t trust me either.” He was silent but I know he heard me.

  Finally he responded: “That’s comforting.”

  I thought about what I told him last night before I got… distracted… and what I could add. “I genuinely had a good time those first two nights. I can usually predict how interactions will go or what the other person will say.” I was interested in you the entire time I followed you through those streets, not just what would happen when I got you alone.

  “You didn’t fall for my shit but you didn’t push me away. You didn’t attempt to appease or flatter me in any way, but you didn’t insult me.” You knew I wanted something. I still do. Right now, I want you out of the corner, close. “You didn’t try to hide or get help. You knew I was there, you knew I was stalking you, and you weren’t afraid.” Not that changing any of that would’ve stopped me.

  I’ve never been a patient person. I gave in to my obsession and scooped him up from the floor. The couch? No, closer. I decided on a chair and held him in my lap once I was seated. “At first I thought you were just… naive… but you knew exactly what I was,” I added.

  “I didn’t know what you were until you bit me.”

  That’s not what I meant. I chuckled to myself while I imagined an alternate reality where he was more trusting, innocent. I’d be unchanged, myself, in this scenario as I followed him around for those two nights. Hunted him. He’d be friendlier, and assume everything I said was just as well-meaning. Flirt with me as he did while having no idea he was in danger ‘til I had him.

  I have him. “You knew enough.”

  I rubbed my cheek over the bite and placed a hand on his stomach. The shirt trapped his warmth against his skin; it was a sharp, but pleasant, contrast to my cooler touch. He had a light trail of hair and I navigated it with my fingers. This shirt needed to come off whether he removed it or I did for him. “I just showered and you’re sitting on me in dirty clothes.”

  “I’m happy to get up.”

  No. Mine. I knew that wouldn’t work. I pulled him closer.

  “I was going to kill you.” He knew this, I knew this. I kept my hand under his shirt and reached for his neck with the other, thinking about the alley. What it would be like to choke him, to watch him struggle to breathe. “I was so sure of it. Up until the moment I wasn’t.”

  “Is this where you say something that makes me feel good?”

  Not even if I thought shit like that would work on you.

  “Or where you tell me I’m special?”

  “It’s where I tell you that you should be dead.” I still want to kill you.

  “Were you hired to kill me?”

  I ignored his question. “I was going to take you home – to your home,” the one I still haven’t found, “and make you experience everything you let me imagine with your teasing. I’m sure you’re starting to get an idea of how much suffering I would have squeezed into your remaining hours.” We have a few hours left tonight… focus. “But, nothing went as I expected. First, I couldn’t compel you – I’ve encountered it before but it’s rare. And, it was that moment when you failed to comply that I knew I’d have to kill you at the end of our night.”

  “Then, you took a swing at me and bolted. Running from me is among the worst decisions you could have made, as you learned.” I couldn’t stop myself from laughing, knowing how everything worked out. “It shuts off whatever logical portion of my brain and I switch to instinct – I will chase you, I will catch you, and I will kill you. You bled so perfectly for me and I was too excited to stop myself from finishing you off.”

  His neck felt so soft. I wanted to squeeze it like one of those stress balls. Crush it. “And then you tried to gut me. You driving away gave me a chance to reset. I’d had enough of your blood that The Hunger wasn’t influencing my decisions, and my energy was rerouted from aggression to damage control.” You got lucky. “I didn’t think you’d make it very far but it would’ve been so bad for me if you did.”

  “How far did I make it?”

  “It took you several blocks to pass out.” About as far as I’d expect, given your efforts to save yourself. “You were barely hanging on when I caught up to you. It wouldn’t have taken much for me to end it.”

  “But that wasn’t the job?”

  What I wanted to say next should answer that for you. I laughed to myself as I thought about how I’d explain it, and removed my hand from his neck so I didn’t hurt him absentmindedly. He wrapped his hand around mine and I tried not to seem too happy about it. His skin was much colder than usual tonight.

  “I decided I’d get you better so I could kill you as brutally as I initially planned.” I expected him to try to take his hand back after I said this but he let me keep it. “Keeping you here would let me drag that out indefinitely.” I used his chest to pull him closer to me. “I can’t be sure that isn’t what I still want. I think part of me will always want that ending.” And if that doesn’t clear things up, it won’t hurt to let you hold onto that thought for a little longer. At least, until you answer a few of my questions.

  “And the other part of you?”

  “Wants this. To hold you close and never let you go.” Believe me. Don’t believe me. “I’ve known this since the second night you were here in this apartment. You hadn’t woken up yet and I was, once again, seconds from killing you when it hit me. It has been a long time since I felt as right as I do when I’m around you. Or with your body pulled tight against mine.” I lowered my other hand to give him the space to lean forward if he wanted. I didn’t want to let him up but the urge to take advantage of his closeness was growing.

  “Was it a partner or your last hostage?”

  Hostage? “If you were anyone else, things would have gone so differently. I don’t date and I definitely don’t bring anyone home. The first night we met? A good chance you went home at the end of our night with a few days of recovery in your immediate future.” Maybe more, but you do tend to heal quite fast, even factoring in my blood’s effects. “Until I learned I couldn’t compel you, that is.”

  “You talked to me for two nights. You still don’t know me.”

  I know you better than you think. I wanted him close, I’d just have to risk it. I rubbed my cheek on his neck again, marking him with my scent instead of my teeth. “I know enough. I want to know more.” He used his shoulder to push me away and I gave his thigh a corrective squeeze. I started the process over on the other side. “So far, every answer I get leads to more questions.”

  “Like what?”

  Where do I start? “Like, Elizabeth.” That seemed to catch him off guard. “She’s not your real mom. Why did she have to be a mom to you?” He was quiet. Will you answer? Will it be the truth?

  “I was… five… when my parents died.” He wasn’t being deceptive. But once again, I got an answer and had even more questions.

  “She knows the work you do. And what I am.”

  He ignored my first comment. “Anyone who saw what I looked like when you took me there would.”

  Okay. Fair. But… “I wanted her to know you’re mine.” I wasn’t able to see his entire face, but what was visible was amusingly scrunched in disgust as he realized what I implied. I’d already learned otherwise from Elizabeth herself. “Maybe P was the one that needed to know, instead.” I still don’t know who P was to him, but Michael’s expression told me they weren’t a thing, either. If he couldn’t tell I was laughing before, he knew now. “Or… not. Were you in a relationship?”

  “I’m sure you killed P and I wouldn’t be surprised to learn Beth is also dead. Why would I tell you about anyone else in my life?”

  I want to know. I want to meet them. “Dead to you, just like that? That’s cold.”

  “If you don’t need to kill, why do you?”

  “I want to. I like it.” If I do learn he had a partner, I’ll probably kill them. And eventually, I’ll kill P. He sent someone to our home. “I’d enjoy killing you, especially.”

  We both sat with our thoughts for a while. I thought about how I’d kill Michael if – probably when – that time came. I had him until then. I leaned forward and sniffed him, our scents mixed on his neck. Mmmmine. There were so many options but I could only give them one final death.

  He hasn’t quipped his usual ‘what’s stopping you?’ yet. What is he thinking? “Disappointed? You asked.”

  “I don’t date, either.” I’m not surprised. We’re quite alike.

  “Until now,” I teased, as I got to my feet; I picked him up with me.

  “That’s not what this is.”

  You don’t see it? “Bedtime, let’s get you out of those dirty clothes.” All of them, maybe. “And, it’s a little what this is.”