Shane wasn't aware that she had fallen asleep until she felt the warm cup pushed against her lips. She shot awake and pursed her lips until she remembered where she was and why. Then, she drew her lips into her mouth entirely only releasing them when she realized the person holding the mug wasn't either of her captors.
She composed herself and saw that the figure wasn't leaving or the least bit put off by her reaction, so she asked the obvious question.
"I am your humble servant, Louise, Oh Mother of Us All," came a feminine and oddly familiar reply.
"'Mother of Us All'? What are you on about?"
"My master told me all about you, how you sacrifice your blood to nurture us, your Children of Darkness," she answered, then sniffled.
Shane didn't have to see the woman's face to detect that she was the sort to capitalize all her significant nouns. She didn't know what her angle was, but Shane saw her advantage. "Yes, my Child," Shane said, summoning forth her best ethereal voice. "I am your Mother. You need only release me to… umm… partake… of my-" Oh god, she thought, I live with the crown duchess of Goth-itopia, I should be able to do this better "--of my Dark Blessings."
She could sense the woman hesitating. "I don't know. My master said I wasn't supposed to."
"Who ranks higher, my Dark Child?" Shane asked, realizing that she should probably vary her adjectives a bit. Not everything in the world of vampires could be called "dark." "Your Nocturnal Mistress or some whelp?" Shane's eyes adjusted enough and she thought she recognized this woman for the first time. She worked at the convenience store. She was one of Dryden's friends… Weezy, Shane thought. She wore much too much mascara and clothing that was inevitably too tight for her plumpness.
"You don't… you don't actually sound that old, your infernalness, ma'am," Weezy answered. "I doth not mean to offendeth thou."
"I'm immortal, I can sound however I wish," Shane protested. "Now get these straps off me!"
Weezy sat one moment longer, eyes wide as she tried to figure out whose order took precedent. Then she started unfastening Shane's straps. Shane breathed a sigh of relief as Weezy leaned over her to release Shane's head, then she heard a sound like a Frisbee in the air. Weezy groaned and collapsed on Shane's chest, truly dead. Shane yelped, but kept the rest of her horror to herself, unwilling to show it to whoever slew Weezy.
She heard precise footsteps and knew it was Seth before he reached her table. "That was a test," he announced.
"Did I pass?" Shane asked as he tightened the strap around her forehead once more.
"We weren't testing you. Clearly you are clever enough that I will have to keep guarding you. These goth newbies are just useless as minions, no matter what Ash thinks," he said. He lifted Weezy's corpse off Shane and dropped it to the floor as if it were no more than a stained shirt. He didn't seem annoyed with Shane. Shane thought this was because he had begun to get an accurate picture of her and it would now be even harder to surprise him and exact her escape. "They have all this ridiculous mythology in their head about vampires, but they can't actually figure out how to be proper ones, you know? Useless."
"She wasn't a vampire," Shane said with some authority, having bought a granola bar and a diet soda from her a few weeks ago when Weezy had been working the day shift.
"As of a few hours ago, no, she wasn't. When I killed her just now, she was."
"If you killed her and she's a vampire, why didn't she poof into dust?" Shane asked.
"Why should she? I've only seen a few of us that turn to dust. I'm not sure why they did. It was a bit hard to ask them, since they barely necessitated a dustpan by then." He brushed some hair from Shane's face with something that almost felt like affection. "But enough of that, drink up," and he lifted the forgotten mug to her lips.
Shane again shut her mouth tight and, with the limited amount of mobility available to her in these binds, shook her head. Seth removed the mug. "Why not?"
"I'm not drinking blood!"
"Who said anything about blood? This is espresso." He lifted it to her face again, allowing her to sniff it. It was as he said, good quality coffee with real chocolate in it, not simply hot cocoa mix. Shane suddenly recalled that she hadn't eaten or drank anything in an indeterminable while and, even if her body could stand it, her mind could not. She let him pour a thin rivulet in her parted mouth. She stopped, swallowed, and opened her mouth again and again until she'd emptied the mug.
"Thanks," she whispered, licking her lips.
"Not a problem. We've got to keep you happy and awake."
"Hmm?" she asked, still tasting the coffee.
He traced his thumb absently over her lips, wiping them clean. She resisted the urge to bite him, incapable of any follow up and concerned he would like it. "It's a funny thing," he mused. "Most of the time, when you are sleeping, everything is fine. The blood flows and you seem just peachy, almost serene. Then you get this look about you, all pale gray. I'm sure it's nothing you've noticed, but I do. And you start dying. I know death, I love death, and I have a sixth sense about when it is happening. You start bleeding to death, so I'm going to make sure we keep you alive. It wouldn't do us any good to kill our golden goose, would it?"
For the first time, Shane considered how much blood they must have drained from her already. She had lost track of time, but it had to be tens of gallons by now. How much blood could they really need? They must be storing it, but why would they be if they had no intention of releasing her. How many vampires were there in this house? Ash and Seth, certainly. Weezy was no longer among the undead, so she didn't count. Was Dryden one of them now? At most, that was three that Shane knew, with enough blood to last them months unless they chugged it.
"Princess, what did you think of the espresso?" Seth asked, seeing the distance in her eyes that had nothing to do with the dimness of the room.
"Oh, it was really good," Shane replied, her mind more occupied with the idea dozens of jugs of her blood being kept somewhere.
"I made it myself. It's been a while since I had any reason to, so I wanted to make sure I was still up to snuff. I used to make it for my wife, she begged for it every morning." His voice sounded warm, nostalgic, almost human and Shane began to hope she could appeal to this side of him. "I made it for her one more time before I killed her, just to see if she would taste like it. She didn't. Anyway, glad you liked it. There will be more. I'll see about making you something to eat, too. Maybe I'll get you a TV and some movies. You must be bored down here."
When she didn't answer, he suggested it again.
"Why are you being nice to me?" Shane asked.
"I'm not, I'm just looking after our trump card. But if you don't want my hospitality…"
She wouldn't get anything but crazy tied up in the dark while her blood drained away, she knew. "Fine, be hospitable. Just no horror movies."
"Of course not," Seth laughed. "We wouldn't want you to have nightmares."
Noah slowed the car as his headlines landed upon Dryden, sitting on the grass yards away. He warned his passengers to stay in the car while he burst out of the driver's side door. Roselyn saw him running for her boyfriend and tried to open the door, finding that it was rusted shut. She needed only look at Eliot to make him understand the full gravity of what was about to happen without her intercession. Eliot braced her shoulders and she at last kicked the door open.
Noah reached within his pocket and produced something gleaming and sharp. Dryden saw him as clearly as if he were daylight, saw the weapon, and responded the best way he knew how. He ran in the opposite direction with a speed he never recalled having, even after becoming a vampire. The man pursued him with shouts of violence, called Dryden a coward and murderer, swore vengeance, but nothing induced Dryden to slacken his pace. He may be a new and fumbling member of the undead, but he was rather attached to that "un" prefix and wouldn't exchange it in a confrontation.
He found a tree with low branched and climbed up, again shocked at his speed and agility. Only a few hours ago in the diner, he felt, if anything, weak. Even sweeping up the glass had been tiring. Now, Dryden felt he could have a successful career as an acrobat. He perched at the top and looked down at the scene occurring on the other end of the street, all the players gleaming and hot in the yellow of the streetlights.
Roselyn ran at Noah and grabbed the dagger from him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"You are dating a corpse? A monster and your sharing your bed with him?! I know you went for the bad boys in high school, but I never thought you were that stupid, Roselyn. You think that this is a game?" he yelled at her. Eliot began to come to her defense, but he silenced him. "And you! Your girlfriend is the prisoner of one of these things and you act like this! 'If anyone know something about vampires, it's Dryden,'" he mocked. "Or do you even have a girlfriend? Maybe you were trolling for a date at that nest."
The three stared at one another a long moment, Noah's gaze vibrating with contempt.
"Shut up for a second," Roselyn ordered.
"How dare you-" Noah began.
"I said shut up!" She shook her head at him. "You don't know everything. You don't know Dryden."
Noah relaxed slightly. "He is one of them now. I'm sorry your boyfriend died, okay? It's a huge damn shame, but he isn't him anymore. He is the demon that killed Dryden. Face the fact."
"Do vampires usually use the phone to beg for rides?" Eliot interjected weakly.
Noah behaved as though he had forgotten Eliot was there. "What?"
"Dryden called for a ride, right? Is that typical vampire behavior? I mean, this is my first experience with a living, breathing vampire-" Eliot caught himself. "With a vampire and I don't know what they are like, but that doesn't seem… normal. Wouldn't an evil bloodsucker just come to the apartment and twist our heads off or something?" This thought fully occurred to him and he winced.
"They can't enter your home unless you invite them. There aren't a lot of them that can break that rule," Noah said.
"And the rest?" asked Roselyn. "Do vampires usually-"
Noah cut her off. "They trick loved ones, yeah. They get you to come out of the house and they kill you. They get you out alone and-"
He felt an unexpected hand on his shoulder. "I'm not going to kill you, I just wanted a ride back."
Noah spun, dagger aimed at Dryden's heart, but Dryden caught his wrist. Both men were surprised at the swiftness and precision. Noah looked into Dryden's face, murderous thoughts burning. Unsure of what else to do, Dryden punched him in the face, knocking him down. Seeing Noah on the pavement, his cheek scratched open on the gravel, Dryden felt something fierce grow within him, something to which he wanted to relent. Just as this passion was about to overtake him, just as his teeth began to ache from the wanting of a meal, something more urgent quelled it and Dryden felt himself again.
Roselyn kneeled beside Noah, who was groaning curses at Dryden.
"I'm really sorry, man. I didn't know what to do, I thought you were going to kill me and just panicked. You okay?"
Noah brushed Roselyn aside and leapt to his feet in a fluid motion. "You had me on the ground," he accused.
"Yeah, I'm really sorry. I've never done this sort of-"
"You had me on the ground, why didn't you pounce? Why didn't you try to kill me then?"
Dryden looked askance at Eliot and Roselyn. "Is he serious?"
Noah grabbed Dryden by his shirt. "Look at me, you bastard! Why didn't you go for it?"
"I don't want to hurt you, man."
"But you're a vampire." This was not a question. Roselyn fidgeted, her eyes alternating between Dryden's face and Noah's hands, both of which remained empty.
"Um," was all Dryden could think to reply.
"You don't give in. You are a goddamn vampire!"
"Listen, just because I'm a vampire, it doesn't mean that I have to kill people, right?"
"Yes it does! That is the basic description of a vampire. That is what you do!"
"I don't," Dryden replied.
Roselyn got between them and gave Dryden a kiss that was every bit better than he could have expected. Eliot put a hand on Noah's shoulder and mouthed, "No." Noah released whatever he was holding in his pocket and shook his head, baffled and disgusted at seeing one of his best friends from high school swapping spit with something that should be his sworn enemy.
"I didn't think you believed me," Dryden whispered to Roselyn.
"Normally, I wouldn't, but I think I've gotten some compelling reasons," she answered, giving him another kiss.
"I'm just glad you are safe from-" then his romantic reunion was cut short. "Eliot, Rose… the other vampires… they got Shane. She's probably dead by now."
Dryden couldn't understand why none of them seemed bothered by this. "Guys?"
"Get in the car, Dry," Roselyn said. "We'll explain on the way."
Red Hook is a serialized novel being written by Xen, also known as Thomm Quackenbush. It didn't happen to you, your best friend, or his cousin. Why? Because it didn't happen. All persons, living, dead, undead, or unliving are purely coincidental. Any real persons are used fictiously. What you are about to read is not a news broadcast. No portion of this book may be distributed without the expressed written consent of Xen. Feel free to rope your friends into reading it, though. Do it or I start shooting PuppyOrphans.
He is published by Cave Drawing Ink and syndicated throughout the internet.
