Luke, Delilah, and Pablo had tracked a quartet of sophisticated young vampires through shallow southeast Portland. Luke wondered if they’d begun their vampiric lives in Portland’s unhoused community or moved here to prey on Portland’s citizens. They’d been trying to home in on their location since Luke felt the tingle indicating they’d run across his favorite prey, ultimately stumbling upon them as they left one of the city’s new brewpubs.
The quartet had blended in perfectly with the young hip set that frequented Southeast Belmont on a Saturday night. Sporting a mix of black, ripped skinny jeans, cool band shirts and appropriately “I don’t care about fashion” fashionable jackets, they looked just like everyone else. Luke, Delilah, and Pablo held back to see where they’d head to next, hoping for an emptier, darker street to conduct their business.
The trio continued to hang back as they followed their fanged quarry east along Belmont from a casual distance. Catching a lull in traffic, the vampires darted across the street toward Audacious, one of Portland’s more popular and long-standing gentleman’s clubs.
“A strip bar?” asked Delilah cynically.
“They’re popular in Oregon. It’s one of the few states that allows full nudity and a full bar,” Pablo explained. “Plus, the Oregon Supreme Court ruled that exotic dancing qualified as free speech. That, coupled with Oregon’s friendly liquor laws, makes for an ideal business environment for strip clubs to flourish. It’s a pretty popular tourism draw.”
Delilah pursed her lips. “I’ve been to Vegas with girlfriends. I’ve seen the roving bands of skeezy bros. No thank you.”
“Don’t get me wrong, there are definitely those guys and the kinds of clubs to match, but there are also more respectable establishments like Audacious. I know the owners; I’ve sold them beer on occasion. It’s a fairly popular date spot.”
“You’re shitting me,” Delilah replied skeptically.
Pablo crossed his heart and raised his hand, holding up his forefinger and middle finger and giving Delilah scout’s honor.
“Seriously?” Delilah’s eyebrows lifted.
“Yeah. Portland has a unique culture around them. I guess it’s one of those things that contributes to keeping Portland weird, as the bumper sticker says,” Pablo replied.
They got in line at the door of the purple brick building where a tall, bald man covered in tattoos was checking IDs. When Delilah fished her driver’s license out of her wallet, Pablo peeked over her shoulder.
“New York, eh? Oh, those are some awesome locs. What happened to them?” Pablo asked.
Delilah ran her hand over her teeny-weeny afro and covered the license’s picture with her thumb. She sighed. “I’m still pissed off about that. I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it yet.” A furrow appeared between her eyebrows, and a muscle twitched in her cheek as she clenched her jaw.
The bouncer checked Delilah’s and Pablo’s IDs before moving on to Luke’s. “You’re probably fine, pops, but got to check everyone.”
Luke’s jaw dropped as he handed his license over to the bouncer; Pablo and Delilah snickered with amusement. The bouncer returned Luke’s ID and let them inside. They were greeted by the sound of loud alternative music and flashing lights. Selecting a table in the back, they settled in to keep an eye on their targets.
“Pops? Do I really look that old?” Luke asked.
“Nah, dude, you look great for a two-thousand-year-old guy. You don’t look a day over seven hundred,” Pablo teased.
The situation had reversed Delilah’s earlier bad mood, and she smiled at her companions. Luke, put out by the direction the evening had taken, crossed his arms and slouched into his chair.
“I know I don’t look like I’m in my twenties, but I’m not sure I warrant a ‘pops.’”
Pablo was trying to contain his laughter as Delilah finally took pity on Luke.
Delilah looked at Luke. “It’s not so much that you look old; it’s the presentation. You’re wearing baggy, faded, dad jeans. Also, your haircut is a bit…”
“Suburban dad trying to cling to his youth?” Pablo interjected between snickers.
“Well, I wasn’t going to phrase it that way…but yeah. The bit of salt creeping into your pepper at the temples kind of accentuates that vibe with your longer hair.”
Pablo was trying to contain his amusement and failing miserably, although he managed to keep from making a spectacle of himself.
Delilah leaned closer. “The beard’s solid but could use shaping. The lines at the corners of your eyes give you a bit of gravitas. When did you stop aging? I’m not sure how your whole deal works.”
“I was in my late thirties the first time I used my rudis. It pretty much halted my aging at that point.”
“And your appearance has stayed like this ever since?” Delilah asked.
“Yeah, basically. If I go too long in between…” Luke looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. The wall of sound coming from the speakers drowned out their conversation before it could leave their table, “…rudis uses, I start to age, but it never gets beyond a few years of appearance before I’m forced to seek a member of the living challenged community.”
Their server brought their drinks, and they settled back to watch the crowd. Pablo’s words rang true; there were far more women in the audience than either Luke or Delilah expected. Some were in groups with friends, others appeared to be on dates. Luke marked the location of the vampires they’d followed in—two were at the bar while the other two sat at the rail, placing dollar bills on the ledge for the dancer.
“I guess I have let my fashion sense slip a bit,” he admitted, fidgeting with the drawstrings of his hoodie while looking down at the table. “Do you think you could help me out?”
“Sure. That sounds like fun. I’ll ask my friend if she’s got a good recommendation for a stylist then take you shopping at Nordstrom so we can update your wardrobe. I’ll have you looking fly in no time.” The song changed, and Delilah’s eyes shifted to the stage. “Daaammmnnn!”
Pablo and Luke looked to see what Delilah was enraptured by. A tall, athletic woman covered in elaborate, beautiful tattoos and sporting an immaculately groomed bright green double mohawk, descended the two-story pole with incredible grace. For the length of two songs, she kept the entire club entranced as she worked through her routine. An artful display of seductive gymnastics, she harmonized ballet, hip hop, and burlesque into a symphony of physical control and beauty. Dollar bills fell onto the stage like autumn leaves. She strode off stage to thunderous approval, while someone darted out to collect her tribute.
“That…was impressive,” Pablo chimed in once the clapping had died down enough to be heard.
Delilah nodded along. Luke looked dumbstruck.
“You OK there, buddy?” Pablo grinned.
“Luke… Luke… Pablo was talking to you.” Delilah tried to contain her laughter.
“Oh. Sorry. That…that was magnificent.” He exhaled, trying to find words. “That was artistry. I was not expecting that.”
“Do you frequent strip clubs?” Delilah asked, an eyebrow arched.
“I’ve been around a few. It’s sometimes an occupational hazard; vampires tend to congregate at such places”—he gestured toward the quartet of bloodsuckers—”as evidenced by their presence here tonight.”
“Sure…” Pablo teased, winking at him.
Luke rolled his eyes.
“A lot of these places can be exploitative, which fits their M.O. The late-night nature of such businesses is also ideal for the solar averse. When you’re in the business of freelance fang extraction, you go where the clients are.” Luke shrugged.
The club settled into a more normal rhythm as songs changed and the other dancers took their turns. The vampires seemed to be settling. They mingled with the crowd, occasionally breaking off for a private dance or to “flirt” with a patron. Delilah had been watching them as well, but periodically scanned the room, perhaps hoping to catch a glimpse of the mohawked dancer.
Delilah turned back to Luke. “Uh, question.”
“Yes?”
“I haven’t been doing this as long as you, but does it seem like most of the vampires we’ve encountered have been male? I mean, there’ve been a few women, but the sizable majority have been dudes. What’s up?”
“I mean, I’ve not spoken to the vampires’ human resources—”
“Human resources! Doesn’t that mean lunch?” Pablo interrupted, laughing at his own joke.
Delilah and Luke rolled their eyes at each other.
Luke continued. “But vampire hierarchies are based largely on age. The older you are, the more powerful you are. Older vampires tend to come from more patriarchal cultures and have rebuilt that ethos into vampire society. They tend to view women as a commodity. Although, I’ve come across some extremely powerful female vampires. They’re not as prevalent, but they do exist.”
Delilah nodded. “Huh, interesting.”
“Another round?” asked Pablo, surveying their empty beers.
“I guess so. Doesn’t seem like the vamps are in a hurry,” Luke replied.
“Oh, look. It’s her!” said Delilah, pointing out the woman with the twin mohawks.
She wore black leather pants, a sheer black shirt with a red bra underneath, and had a black leather jacket slung over her shoulder. She capped off her look with a pair of short, black Frye boots with a silver loop at the ankle anchoring a series of straps. The vampires at the bar slid off their stools and strolled up to her. One of them said something funny enough to elicit a laugh. The other two surreptitiously kept an eye on the situation from their table by the main stage.
“Is she a vamp?” Pablo asked. “It’s hard to tell by smell in this crowd.”
“No. She comes by her grace and magnetism honestly,” Luke replied, all business again. “No next round. Delilah, head outside, hang a left, and station yourself about halfway down the block. Pretend to make a call or something. Pablo, you go to the right. I’ll hang back and follow them out. Use the group text to communicate.”
They gave Luke fake goodbyes, pretending they were heading home and leaving Luke behind. He hoped all the vamps left together; he didn’t want to have to split up and track two groups. It would risk not only the bystander, but his friends too.
After another moment of conversation, the vampires and the dancer migrated to the table with the rest of their quartet. The dancer signaled to a server, who strode over to the bar where the bartender was already filling five shot glasses. Apparently, she had a “usual” and was letting the vampires pay for it. Their table was too far away to tell if she’d been glamoured or was just being hospitable.
The vampires and dancer picked up their glasses and clinked them together while making eye contact. The four vampires knocked back their shots while the dancer’s hung in the air for a few moments as if she’d been frozen.
“Damnit,” Luke swore. He shot a text to Pablo and Delilah.
The dancer finally drank her shot and set the glass down. As one, they stood and headed toward the exit. Luke followed suit. The dancer paused on her way out and whispered to the bald, tattooed bouncer. His gaze shifted to Luke, and he nodded as she followed her quartet of fanged escorts into the night. The bouncer cruised through the crowd to Luke’s table.
Luke fired off another text, Fuck, I’ve been made. Follow them. Keep me posted.
The bouncer loomed over Luke. “So, pops, Natalia says you could use a little company…”
“Not particularly, but I assume you’re going to insist,” Luke replied.
The bouncer gave Luke a smug nod and pulled up a chair. He settled in, keeping an eye on the crowd and Luke. Deciding to take a different approach, Luke started to stand.
The bouncer put his hand on Luke’s forearm. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I need to take a leak. You don’t buy beer, you only rent it. Am I right?”
The bouncer rolled his eyes at Luke and released him. “I guess you can’t get out that way.”
Luke understood why the moment he got there. The men’s room had no windows to the outside. He relieved himself, then headed back out. The bouncer was waiting near the end of the hall, surrounded by the flashing halo of a strobe light going off in the background. As Luke neared him, the bouncer reached out and placed his hand on Luke’s artificially broad shoulders.
“What the…”
Luke took the bouncer’s arm, yanked it down and spun behind him so Luke’s body blocked the hallway from the view of the room beyond.
“Hey, asshole, I guess we’ll have to stomp your ass after all,” the bouncer threatened.
Rolling his eyes, Luke banged the bouncer’s head into the concrete wall, knocking him out cold. Luke dragged him into the men’s restroom and propped him on the toilet seat in the open stall, closing the door behind him. He checked himself in the mirror, smoothing out any signs of a struggle on his way out the door.
Luke’s phone buzzed, vibrating the back pocket of his jeans. The text from Delilah had a maps link to their location and one message.
Hurry!
* * *
Luke sprinted down the abandoned residential streets, guided by his phone. The urgency of their last text gnawed at his insides, pushing him to run faster. Despite all his violent and bloody experience, Luke wasn’t prepared for what he saw.
Delilah was sobbing, crouched over Natalia’s body, holding the dancers hand in both of hers. Pablo, naked, had his hands pressed to her throat. Blood oozed out between his fingers. Tears ran down his face. Two gooey sets of clothes marked the location of half of the vampire posse; the other two must have gotten away. Natalia’s heels thrashed weakly against the ground; the hand not held by Delilah grasped Pablo’s thigh. Luke’s jaw clenched in rage.
Natalia’s hand fell to the ground with a single bounce and went still. Her heels stopped moving. Her chest stopped rising.
Luke wasn’t sure how long they stood there, motionless. Delilah holding Natalia’s hand, crying, and Pablo with hands trying to hold in the blood that had finally stopped flowing. Only the sounds of sirens pulled Luke back to reality.
“Shit! We got to get out of here. Fast. Delilah, gather up the shreds of Pablo’s clothes. Watch out for the evidence, don’t step in it. Pablo, can you go full wolf? You’re covered in blood. Maybe wolf tracks will fool them into thinking a big dog went through here. I doubt the Portland Police would know a wolf track if one walked up and bit them.”
They nodded. Delilah gave Natalia’s hand a final squeeze, then placed it gently across her stomach. With trembling fingers, she grabbed the ragged shreds of Pablo’s outfit. Pablo was about to take a step back before realizing he’d leave a human footprint.
“There’s a park nearby. It’s got a pond. I’ll meet you there,” said Pablo quietly. “Do you know it?”
“Yeah. We’ll get there as soon as we can without being direct,” Luke replied.
“Good. Delilah has a spare T-shirt and shorts in her purse.” He blurred into a full wolf and trotted out of the alley, leaving large, bloody paw prints behind.
Luke inspected the alley for any evidence of their presence. He found a small strip of cloth that looked like part of Pablo’s T-shirt and pocketed it.
“Looks like we got it all. You ready to move?” Luke asked. “Did you two touch anything? Anything we might need to wipe for prints?”
“Just the stakes.” Delilah’s voice was flat, empty of emotion.
Luke picked them up, careful to avoid touching anything else. “We’ll ditch them in a yard debris bin somewhere.”
Delilah nodded, staring at the body cooling on the ground.
Luke gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I know. I do. But we need to get moving or we’re going to be in a pile of deep shit when the cops get here.”
Delilah nodded again, forcing herself to turn away from Natalia, and walked out of the alley.
Luke took one last look at Natalia and said, “I’m sorry…”
He sighed, shook his head, and followed Delilah through southeast Portland. They dodged in and out of the streetlights and back into the shadows of the trees, trying to move quickly but inconspicuously back to the safety of home.
* * *
Luke tossed and turned all night, plagued by nightmares the likes of which he hadn’t seen in years. With each one, he woke shivering, filled with despair at how much blood he’d witnessed. How very helpless he was to stop it all. Each time, his anger grew. Finally, he threw his blankets off and changed into workout clothes.
He headed down to his training center and mounted the treadmill. He started out slowly, hoping to work out the tension. Instead, he kept picturing Delilah holding her hand, Pablo trying to stop the flowing blood. Each time he saw Natalia’s terrified eyes slacken, he hit the up button.
After five miles, he was flying. By ten, he was at a dead run. Nothing could cleanse the vision from his head. He wasn’t sure which would break first, him or the treadmill. With a heavy hand, he smashed the stop button.
The heavy punching bag was his next victim. But his coordinated routine quickly devolved into a brawl as Luke unleashed one uncontrolled haymaker after another. Every face he’d failed flashed through his mind. Every massive punch was a vampire who’d destroyed some piece of Luke’s world. Sweat streamed down his face, stinging his eyes. Tears ran freely, joining the beads of sweat rolling down his face.
No relief came.
His punches got slower and weaker until Luke propped his head against the bag. He continued to pummel it pathetically, knees wobbling with exhaustion.
His body had had enough. It still wasn’t fully healed, and now he’d pushed past what little physical reserves he’d had left. Luke slumped to the ground, pushing off the bag to land with his back against the wall. Knees up in front of him, elbows propped on his knees, he hid his head in his hands. Tears streamed down his face as he gasped for air.
As his breathing calmed, the sound of music penetrated his foggy head. Someone had put on a record, flipping the switch that tied the system to the gym’s speakers. Through his red, swollen eyes, he saw a silhouette approach. It resolved into Pablo.
He sat down next to Luke and wrapped his arms around his knees.
Luke rubbed his cheeks dry with the heel of his palm, wiped his nose on his bare arm.
“I thought I’d check in on you before heading into the brewery,” Pablo said.
“I had trouble sleeping, so I thought some exercise would help.” Luke’s voice sounded empty, even to his own ears.
“I didn’t sleep well either,” Pablo said.
“I just… I can’t get the image out of my head.” Luke shook his head. “Her body, laying in a pool of her own blood. I’ve seen an ocean of it and caused another. Why her? Why now? Why is this death lingering? I don’t… I couldn’t stop it. I failed.”
“I haven’t seen what you’ve seen, nor lived as long as you, but I’ve seen friends die violently. I’m fairly jaded after this long, but this is affecting me more than I would’ve thought. For a few minutes, we got to witness something special, something almost otherworldly, and then it was brutally snuffed out by the ugliness of our world.” Pablo sighed.
“I could have gotten there faster. I could have bounced the bouncer’s head off the table and run by the other bouncer before they knew what was up. I thought about it…” Luke trailed off.
“It wouldn’t have mattered. As soon as we jumped them, one clawed her throat out and ran with her friend, while the other two stayed to hold us off. It would’ve been the same story if you’d been there. You can’t save everyone all the time.” Pablo’s words were logical, yet he still sounded as frustrated as Luke.
“It feels like I’ve saved so few. A person here, three there. We’re drowning in vampires. I can’t keep up. I just can’t…”
“How long have you been doing this? Like nineteen hundred plus years? How many have you saved in all the time? How many vampires have you dispatched?” Pablo asked.
Luke shrugged shallowly. “Countless, but for every one I kill, more crop up. It’s like trying to smash mercury with a hammer. It squishes and moves. You just can’t get it.”
“And you’re just one man. One man against a horde of hungry undead monsters? How do you keep going? I’m honestly impressed,” Pablo said.
Luke laughed bitterly. “I don’t have a choice. It’s like an addiction. I’m incapable of stopping. It’s not just that I start aging. I go through withdrawal. Brutal withdrawal. I’ve tried to quit, to ‘retire,’ but I can’t. He won’t let me…”
Pablo’s head tilted as his brows furrowed. “Withdrawal? Like drugs?”
“Yeah. Like heroin or alcohol. It’s painful, horrible. I get the shakes, the sweats. Hallucinations, if I let it go long enough. Eventually, the compulsion will take me over and drag me out to a fight. It’s…” He struggled for the words. “It’s like an out-of-body experience. I see myself through a fog, hunting, stalking. I’m honestly amazed I don’t get killed in such a state.”
“Wait. He? Who won’t let you?” Pablo asked.
Luke sighed, collapsing in on himself even further. “Mithras…”
“Mithras? Who’s Mithras?”
“My patron. The wellspring of my power. He is my master, and I can’t escape from him.”
“I still don’t understand,” Pablo replied. “Who’s Mithras?”
Luke didn’t respond. His silence hung heavy in the air.
“I’m exhausted, Pablo. So damned tired.” Luke put his head in his hands and shook it slowly.
Pablo put his arm around Luke’s shoulders. “I know, buddy. I can see it in your eyes, in the slump of your shoulders. You’re carrying the weight of the world. You’ve been doing it alone for a long time. It’s draining.” Pablo gave Luke a reassuring squeeze. “I can’t say I know your burden, but I’ve had times in my life when I’ve been done.”
Pablo stared into the middle distance. “I was drifting for a long time, packless, alone. I’d disappeared into the California surf culture of the 1960s. I was already old by then, but it kept me distracted. It was fun for a while. After a time, I just felt empty. I started wandering. Eventually I heard about a pack forming up in Portland. A gay woman was starting a queer wolf pack and inviting anyone to join.
“For the first time in a long time, there was a spark of hope. I worked my way north until I landed in Portland and looked her up. That’s when I met Holly. She was the youngest wolf I’d ever met who had that ‘packleader’ vibe. She was impressive. Then I met her wife, Sam, and you know Sam. She’s one of the most welcoming people you’ll ever meet. For the first time in a very long time, I had a home. I poured myself into that pack, helping Holly get it off the ground and make it a refuge for the outcast wolves of America…”
Pablo’s smooth and gentle tone helped soothe Luke; he set aside his sorrow and disappeared into Pablo’s story.
“Then, a few years later, Tony showed up. It was like being reborn. Colors were crisper. Food tasted better. It was like I’d been existing as a two-dimensional being, and Tony’s love inflated me into a three-dimensional man. The joy in that man’s soul makes me feel truly alive.”
“I don’t have a Tony.” Luke sounded petulant, even to himself.
“No, but you do have a Pablo and a Delilah, and friends are a good place to start.”
“Yeah.” Luke chuckled. “Although, I’m not entirely sure Delilah likes me.”
“I’m pretty sure she considers you a friend at this point, or will after a bit more time, but she’s got her own burdens. She’s got some fresh grief she’s managing.”
Luke perked up a bit. “Has she talked to you about it?”
“No, but I can tell. She’s good at walling it up, nearly as good at hiding her pain as you are with yours.”
The word “pain” made Luke cringe. “Is it that obvious?”
“Well…you’ve let your guard down a few times. But there’s a reason I’m Holly’s second. I can read people very well. It lets me get ahead of trouble and figure out what needs to be done.”
“I used to be so good at bottling it up, but I’ve been alone for too long. Rambling to a cat all day doesn’t really make for quality human contact, not to slight Alfred. His companionship has been lifesaving, but I guess I underestimated how much I needed a friend.” Luke laid his head on Pablo’s shoulder as they sat silently, letting the sounds of Future Islands’ “Fall from Grace” wash over them.
After the Twin Peaks theme-like intro to the song, the primal scream of the singer at the chorus shook something loose in Luke.
“I’m fading away…” Luke said, almost too quietly to hear.
“What?” Pablo asked.
“Like the song says, I’m slowly fading away…”
“What do you mean?”
“Since I’ve been dredging up my ancient history, I’ve been having vivid memories of my younger days, before all this.” Luke gestured vaguely with his hand.
“I guess that’s only natural.”
“They’re somebody else’s memories. I don’t recognize that person. He’s not a part of me anymore.”