“I’d say it’s been a pleasure, but I’m not certain it would be the truth,” I said early on a Wednesday evening, making a small bow in Justin’s direction.
Roland was here, too, seated in one of the armchairs facing the fireplace. Obviously he found what I’d said and my action amusing as he let out a guffaw and then picked up his glass of wine, taking a deep drink.
Justin was less than impressed, scowling momentarily before he fixed a smile on his face. “I could say the same,” he retorted. “On both counts.”
My year with him was up as of tonight, much to the relief of us both. In the last year we had butted heads often as he’d taught me everything I needed to know.
He’d gotten his money’s worth out of me as a companion. I took care of the house—okay, we shared that but I did a lot of grunt work, cleaning, and dusting; what my father had called ‘women’s work’. At least I didn’t have to cook as we didn’t eat food. When that wasn’t happening, or he wasn’t showing me the ropes of vampire life, we’d read, talk, watch movies, or go for long walks. I preferred avoiding the bayou and he acceded to my wishes, but there were plenty of other areas to cover that didn’t include swamps and dangerous wildlife. We ranged far and wide once I got the hang of flying—even if I had to make stops more often than I’m sure he wished in order to regain my strength.
At one point I convinced him to get rid of the God-awful wallpaper in the dining room. That took us a week, stripping it off and then painting. When we finished, he agreed the room looked much nicer, but also put his foot down on redecorating the parlor and his office.
In the final two months of my stay, he took me into the city where he watched from a distance as I put my lessons to use. I knew he was afraid I’d be too violent in my feeding. I was smarter than that, reigning in my desire to attack hard and fast and then move on.
I discovered on our first visit that I passionately detested humans, which sort of surprised me. Jealousy, perhaps? Or not. I wasn’t certain one way or the other.
To me they were like vermin infesting the city, especially the tourists. While I wasn’t allowed to hunt close to the Quarter, as that’s where I’d worked and knew people, I did observe from rooftops. From the time we arrived, an hour or so after sundown, into the wee small hours of the morning, the streets were crawling with them. Drunken men and women, reeling from bar to club to bar, leaving trash and occasionally vomit and piss in their wakes. A few times I saw someone I used to know and I’d have a momentary regret that I couldn’t say “Hey, how you doing? What’s new?” That feeling passed as quickly as it came. They were mere humans, like all the rest, not worth the time of day.
Justin picked up on all of that and from his expression, and his words, I knew it bothered him. But then, he had no real problems with humans. As he told me more than once, “They serve a purpose. They keep us alive.”
He was right, of course. It didn’t change my view of them, however.
Now, Roland asked me, “Where are you headed?”
I didn’t answer honestly, because I didn’t want Justin to know where I was going. He’d said that he didn’t keep in touch with his Children. I didn’t want to be the exception to his rule if I could help it. “North, I think. Maybe Chicago or Cleveland. You know I can’t stay here. Not that I’d want to. I’m done with this city. It’s my past and I’m well rid of it.”
“And of me,” Justin said dryly.
“I have no argument with you,” I replied. “You taught me well and explained how to handle my latent abilities when they come out. I can’t see any need for them but who knows, right?” By that I meant that he had detected the fact I’d have both the fire and the killing gifts—in time. I’d inherited them I suppose you could call it because he was my Sire. He had them, passed down from his Sire, who had been an Old and powerful vampire. The best analogy I can think of, picked up from one of his many books I’d read, is how humans inherit eye color, or tongue rolling, or what the book called ‘free earlobes’.
Justin lifted an eyebrow. “You know very well you might get into a position where you’ll be quite happy you have them if—” he looked hard at me, “—you don’t keep you anger under control.”
“Lucas? Angry?” Roland grinned. “Why, he’s the calmest vampire I’ve met in a good long while. I jest.” He’d visited often enough that he’d seen me when I got frustrated while Justin trained me. I’ll be the first to admit I flew off the handle more than once. “How are you getting to…wherever you end up?” he asked.
“Flying.” I smirked when Roland looked at me in disbelief. “On a plane. I’m nowhere near good enough to do it the vampire way.”
If he had been one of my acquaintances from before my turning, he’d probably have said, “No shit.” As it was, he nodded, replying, “I’m delighted you realize your limitations. It would be a shame to lose you before you’ve had a chance to test your wings.”
“A pun, Roland,” Justin said with a brief smile.
“I hadn’t meant it to be, but I suppose you’re right.”
I was far from rich—in fact I was definitely poor because there was no way I could get my hands on what little money I’d managed to save from my former bartending job, and the balance on my credit card was now almost nonexistent after booking my flight and a place to stay the first night. At least when I’d had a job I’d set it up that the card would be paid off by automatic withdrawals from my meager savings account, so using it was still possible…for now.
Being almost destitute had changed earlier this evening when Justin presented me with a parting gift—fifteen thousand dollars in cash. “A mere pittance compared to what I’m worth,” he told me, explaining about wise investments over the past two-hundred years. He suggested I do the same, or at the very least bank the money when I arrived at my final destination.
Roland had added to my funds, handing me an envelope containing five thousand dollars. I thanked him, rather more profusely than I had Justin. After all, it was truly a gift while what Justin had given me was more a sop to his conscience, whether he’d admit it or not.
“One last toast,” Roland said, opening the second bottle of wine he’d brought with him to refill our glasses. “To your new life, Lucas. May it be all that you hope for.”
We clicked rims, and then settled in to finish the bottle. I’d learned to like wine, which I hadn’t in the early days of my life as a vampire. This one was an excellent vintage, and though it couldn’t get me drunk, I enjoyed it for what it was.
As he prepared to leave, Roland gave me one final bit of advice. “Trust no one, vampire or human, until you know everything about them. Even then, be careful. You’re continued existence depends on it.”
“Believe me, I know,” I replied.
When he was gone, I went to get my bags and downed two bags of blood, since I probably wouldn’t be able to feed again until the following night. Then Justin drove me to the airport.
“I’m going to miss you,” he said as he pulled up in front of the drop-off point for one of the airlines.
I was tempted to laugh, or tell him I wasn’t going to miss him in the least. I didn’t. After all he was my Sire and I owed him the respect that came with it. “I’ll miss you, too,” I replied. At that moment, I realized I meant it. Despite the fact he’d made me what I am, and the rough times we’d gone through while he taught me what I needed to know, we had become friends of a sort. “I’ll keep in touch, if you want.”
“An email every once in a while would be appreciated,” he replied.
“You’ve got it,” I told him as I got out. “Take care, and next time you want a companion, be a little more honest than you were with me when you—” I chuckled, “—recruit him.”
He smiled. “I shall consider it. Now, off with you.”
I got my bags from the trunk, walked to the entry, then turned for one last look. He gave a small wave, which I returned, before he drove away.
* * * *
My flight arrived in Denver less than an hour before sunrise Thursday morning. I’d made a reservation at the airport hotel without letting Justin know where I was really headed, other than somewhere well away from New Orleans, which was I’d told him and Roland a few hours earlier. Could they have read my mind to find out? Doubtful, as I’d learned to block my thoughts from them when necessary.
Strolling into the hotel lobby, I stopped at the front desk long enough to check in and prove I was the person whose name was on the card. Minutes later I was safely in my room, the security bar latched, and a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door handle. I closed the thick drapes, undressed, and got into bed moments before I fell into my enforced sleep.
I awoke automatically as soon as the sun had set. My first order of business was to feed. That required I leave the hotel, of course. I knew from the bit of research I’d done that there were several large parking garages at the airport. Even though they were well-lit according to a couple of photos I’d found, I noticed that there were areas in the corners that were less so. It would only take a moment to enthrall a driver as he stepped out of his car, take him to one of them and feed, after which I’d wipe his memory, and send him on his way none the wiser.
It worked perfectly and with my hunger sated I returned to the hotel. I was happy to be inside again. It hadn’t occurred to me until I’d left to go to the parking garage that Denver in early March was a hell of a lot colder than New Orleans. Not uncomfortably so, given that I was a vampire, but I missed the warmth I’d been used to.
Going to the business center, I used one of their computers to search for a temporary place to stay until I’d explored all the options for settling down on a permanent basis.
It took a while but eventually I found a motel not too far from downtown that would provide the anonymity I required while barely making a dent in the money I’d received from Justin and Roland. With that settled and the address memorized, I returned to my room. I hadn’t unpacked more than the basics so getting ready to leave, after calling for a cab, took no time at all. I’d put a hundred dollars in my wallet. The rest was safely stashed in a money belt I’d bought at the airport in New Orleans while I’d waited for my flight to be called. I wasn’t really too worried about someone trying to rob me. I had no plans for walking down deserted alleys, and even if I did and someone tried to mug me, they would become my next meal—and only that if they were lucky. Killing them would be an option, too, as long as I sealed the bite wounds first. Even though humans in general didn’t believe vampires existed, as Justin had pointed out more than once, it would be foolhardy to give anyone the idea we might.
I checked to be certain I hadn’t left anything behind, picked up my bags, put on my jacket which thankfully I’d brought with me, and went down to the lobby to check out and wait for my cab.
* * * *
The motel I’d chosen was nothing special, which didn’t bother me. I didn’t plan on being there long. Its main draw had been the fact I could pay with cash as long as I had ID to prove who I was.
The first order of business, once I settled in, was going shopping for a laptop. All right, shopping is a bit of a misnomer. It was well after closing time for any stores that sold them, but that didn’t present a problem. I left the motel around midnight and walked to a big box electronics store about two miles away that we’d passed on the taxi ride to the motel. Getting inside was easy, of course—I merely misted under one of the doors. I re-formed once I was out of view of the front windows, headed to the computer section, and spent a good twenty minutes comparing what was offered before choosing the best laptop for my needs. There were several stored under the demo model, so I picked up a box and made my way to the store’s rear entrance. Obviously I couldn’t mist the box out, so I went in search of the keys to unlock the door, eventually finding them in the manager’s office. As soon as I opened the door the security alarm blared. I didn’t really give a damn. With my prize in hand, I went invisible, which included the laptop, and took flight, maintaining my invisibility until I was in a dark corner of the parking lot behind the motel. From there, I returned to my room and set up the laptop. Once I’d linked to the motel’s wireless service, I went online.
It was almost sunrise when I signed out. I now knew a great deal more about Denver and the surrounding area than I had when I’d arrived. Tomorrow night, I’d explore in person. I wouldn’t decide where to rent an apartment, or perhaps a house, until I knew every part of the city. As realtors will tell you, or so I’ve heard, ‘Location, location, location’. I needed the perfect spot to set up my new life. All I had to do is decide whether it would be in the city—if I thought I could abide the urban lifestyle with all its humans—or in the mountains to the west.
* * * *
I spent every night for the next week strolling through various parts of Denver—from the wealthy areas to those holding the poor and downtrodden. There was no dearth of humans, even well after midnight, making the temptation to do something to thin the herd overwhelming at times. It took all my willpower to resist. I’d have more than enough time once I became a permanent resident somewhere in the area. I did feed. I had no choice. But I did it the ‘proper’ way as it were, sealing the bite marks and wiping memories when I’d finished.
Having seen what I needed to within the city, and not being at all impressed—in fact the mass of humanity made me grit my teeth in anger—I moved farther afield, going into the mountains. Not before I made a major purchase, however—a motorcycle. I knew a little about them thanks to a guy I’d been going with a year or so before I met Justin. He was nothing to write home about and in the end I’d dumped him, but in the interim he’d taught me how to ride and what it took to maintain a bike. I knew I needed one because I wasn’t nearly old enough to fly long distances. That wouldn’t happen until I was at least one hundred, according to Justin.
I got online, perused what was for sale on Craigslist, and went to take a look at the ones that were within my price range. I ended up with a 2008 Harley Sportster. The guy said it was a decent ride in the mountains, and a damned good one on the street, to use his words. He let me…okay I compelled him to allow me to take it for a drive, decided I liked it, and got it for half what he was asking. Have to love being able to control a human when necessary. He had all the papers for it and signed them over to me on the spot. He even let me keep the license plates, with the proper persuasion.
Later that night, well after one A.M., I rode west on I-70 to Idaho Springs. As the elevation increased, I began to feel chilly which I supposed was normal even for me, given that it was still early March. It didn’t take long to figure out from all the shops that it was a tourist town and not to my liking. The same held true for Evergreen and Georgetown, which I visited the following night. I came to the conclusion that what I was looking for was a home like Justin’s, well off the beaten track, if there was such a thing.
There wasn’t, as I found out to my dismay. I suppose I could have taken over one of the abandoned cabins I came across as I drove along the narrow roads that led deep into the mountains. I wanted more than that, however. I wanted a place like Justin’s and I didn’t find one. Oh, there were several small towns where there were nice homes for sale, but small was the operative word. They were the kind of places where everyone would want to know all about me, and that couldn’t happen.
Eventually I realized if I was going to settle down in a place where I could remain anonymous, it had to be Denver. That meant finding somewhere to live where I’d be just another person in the city of over two million people, which put me back where I’d started; trying to decide which area of the city would work for me.
A large apartment or condo complex was one option. I’d had my heart set on a place of my own, though, which meant a house. There were two parts of the city that appealed to me, as much as any of them did. Both were a combination of business and residential, but then, what neighborhood isn’t, I suppose. More to the point, both had a sizable number of gays, as I’d found out when I’d stopped in at bars in each area. It had been well over a year since I’d had a chance to explore that side of me and I missed it. Sure, if I hooked up with anyone he’d be human, but for a night of halfway decent sex it would be worth it.
Going online, I brought up a realty site which connected buyers with sellers through various realty companies in the city. There were several homes available in both areas, but what made up my mind was the one that was for sale by the owner. It’s much easier to manipulate a single person than it would be to do that with both a realtor and the present owner.
Noting the man’s name and phone number, I closed out and went to look at the house. I sensed, literally, that the owner wasn’t home, so I decided to explore. Getting in was no problem since it was listed through a realtor and thus technically not a private residence anymore even though it was the owner who was selling it. At least that’s what I hoped. I went around to the back and misted, keeping my fingers crossed. I’d been right I found out as I slipped under the door and re-formed. It was nice inside, with modern appliances in the kitchen, not that I’d need them. There was a combined living-dining room, two bedrooms on the second floor, and a full basement. The last reminded me of what Justin had done in his basement—the panic room. I wondered if I should turn what was now a small rec room down there into one. A decision I’d make later, once I owned the place. A major selling point in my estimation was the fact the house was separated from the neighbors on three sides by a six-foot tall cedar fence. Having seen all I needed to, I misted out and re-formed in the alley, moments before a car pulled into the driveway, glad I’d parked the bike half a block down the street.
When I got back to the motel, I emailed the owner, telling him I was interested in the house. I would have called but it was almost eleven-fifteen and I didn’t want to alienate him if he’d gone straight to bed when he got home. To my surprise, I got an email back from him five minutes later. After a bit of back and forth, we set up a meeting at the house for eight the next evening, which was a Tuesday. It occurred to me when I got offline and shut down that I’d been on my own now for almost two weeks with nothing to show for it. That would change tomorrow.
* * * *
The meeting with Mr. Comstock, the owner of the house, went as planned. Well, as I’d planned. Comstock was an elderly man, very talkative, which I put up with, and eager to get rid of the house.
“I’m moving down in Arizona, to a retirement home,” he told me. “So the sooner I sell, the happier I’ll be.” He rambled on about how great it would be as he showed me around.
Then, we settled down to talk details.
“You pay cash, I’ll drop the price by ten thousand,” he said. “I’ve got all the papers you’ll need and I’ll sign them over to you. No need to give some shyster lawyer a ton of money to do the work. I was a realtor, way back when. I know the ropes. I’ll even file the sale with the city and county for you. Save you having to deal with those idiots.”
I laughed, telling him I was of the same mind, and we struck a deal. I promised I’d return the following evening with ten thousand in cash plus a cashier’s check for the remainder of purchase price.
Needless to say, I didn’t really have a check. As soon as he let me into the house Wednesday evening I handed him the cash and then enthralled him so that I could convince him I’d given him the check as well. I suggested he make a night deposit at his bank, because of the cash, and rode with him while he did. Of course he didn’t get a chance to make the deposit as I wasn’t about to lose that much money. Because I had him in my thrall, he thought he had, which is what counted. When we returned to the house, he got the title and signed it over to me.
“I’ll file everything first thing in the morning,” he promised. “As soon as it’s official I’ll let you know. I’ll also call a moving company, so I should be out of here by Monday at the latest. I’m going to leave some of the furniture. You can keep it or sell it, your choice. I for damned sure won’t need it.”
I thanked him for all he’d done, telling him I wouldn’t be able to answer my phone until after seven in the evening because of my job. “They don’t allow personal calls,” I grumbled, getting a commiserating look from him in reply.
Almost on the dot of seven Friday night Comstock called to tell me I was now officially the owner of the house as far as the ‘powers that be’ as he termed them were concerned. That’s all I needed to know. “If you’re up for it,” I said, “I’d like to take you out for a drink to celebrate.”
“You better believe I am,” he replied, laughing heartily.
I arrived at the house fifteen minutes later, parking my bike next to the garage. The first thing Comstock did after letting me inside was to hand me the keys. “It’s a second set,” he explained. “I’ll leave the others on the kitchen counter after I’m moved out.”
I pocketed them, and then asked where he wanted to go for our celebratory drink. He replied he didn’t care. “As long as there’s beer and pretzels, I’m fine.”
There was a bar not far from my motel, so I suggested we go there. Of course I didn’t intend on us doing more than driving over. Once we arrived and parked in the lot behind it, I would enthrall him and we’d walk to an alley a couple of blocks away that I’d scoped out when I first moved into the motel. It was where I found most of my donors as there was a sizable homeless population in the area. I’d fed on one of the women before going to see Comstock, but only enough to ease my hunger pangs.
“Not the best area,” he commented after parking in the lot behind the bar.
“I’ve seen worse, back where I came from,” I replied when we got out of the car.
“Which would be where?” he asked, looking right at me in question.
I took over his mind, and then with one hand on his elbow, and a murmured, “Come with me,” I steered him down to the alley. When we got to the middle I searched it, visibly and mentally, to be certain there was no one around to see what happened next. There wasn’t, so I shoved him against the wall between two Dumpsters, bit into his throat, and drank deeply until my hunger was appeased.
Then, I elongated my nails until they became claws, another perk of being a vampire, and attacked his body the way a feral dog would, biting and scratching. A feeling of elation washed over me as I felt him die. This was what I’d been reborn to do—to cull the herd, one human at a time. It wouldn’t be easy, I knew that. But damn it would be satisfying.
Did he deserve to be my first kill? Probably not. He’d been nice enough I suppose, for a human. That’s what he was, though…human. If he’d known what I was, he’d have murdered me without a second thought. All of them would. I was merely making certain that didn’t happen to me, or to any of my kind, if I could help it.
When I stepped back from his remains, intending to toss his body into one of the Dumpsters, I saw that I was spattered with his blood. Kneeling, I took the car keys from his pocket. Then, to make things more difficult if he was found, I removed his wallet as well. Finally, I opened the lid and dumped him into the Dumpster, burying him under some of the trash.
Dusting off my hands, I closed the lid and returned to the car. A few minutes later I was in my room after going invisible before entering the motel by the rear door. I shed my clothes, putting everything in a plastic bag, and went to shower, to remove the remaining traces of what I’d done. As I washed away the blood on my arms and face, I realized I should have left his body where it fell. No animal would have put it in the Dumpster. I considered going back to rectify my mistake and decided it really didn’t matter. “It’ll give the cops a nice puzzle to try to unravel,” I said under my breath, and laughed.
I got out, dried off, and redressed in clean jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Then I packed up everything I’d brought with me when I arrived in the city and left the way I’d come in, by the rear door, although this time I was visible. I took Comstock’s car to a slum area at the outskirts of downtown and left it with the keys in the ignition. I had the feeling one of the less reputable humans who hung out there would steal it, probably to take it to a chop-shop where it would be dismantled for its parts.
From there, I walked to a bus stop where I could catch one that would drop me off close to my new house. When I got home, I unpacked, putting my family photos and the books on the built-in bookshelves in the living room. Then I turned on my laptop, went online, and settled down to stream a late-night talk show, followed by a couple of movies. That killed the time until I had to go to bed.
The only thing left to do was call a moving company the way Comstock had planned. It wouldn’t do for the neighbors to wonder why he’d sold the house but hadn’t taken anything with him when he moved to Arizona.
I did that Saturday evening as soon as I returned from feeding. It took a bit of cajoling and the promise of paying half again for them to work after hours, but in the end it was arranged for the van to arrive at seven Monday evening. As far as things like the utilities, I could see no reason to change the name on the billing. I did find the file in his desk where he kept the bills, as well as his banking information, which gave me an idea. I took five thousand from my money belt, filled out a deposit form, and set everything aside for the moment while I went online to set up automatic withdrawals from his bank account to pay his bills. I wouldn’t have been able to access his account if he hadn’t been stupid enough to write down the password information, which I found on a card in the file.
When I was a productive member of the human race, I’d had an account at a national bank. I still had it, as I found out when I checked online, so I took another five thousand from my stash, which left me with a little over seven thousand in cash since I’d spent some of the twenty thousand I’d left New Orleans with on the bike and the motel room. After writing down the numbers of my checking account, I took off to Comstock’s bank to use the night depositary to deposit the cash. Then I went on to the local branch of my bank, misted inside to get a deposit slip, and after filling it out, put it and the money in an envelope they provided, and dropped it in the box.
Feeling a sense of accomplishment, I decided to visit the bar a few blocks from the house.