by Love, Clake
Matthew leaned over Sam and touched his finger to the fluttering pulse at his neck. So easy , he thought. Just one bite. Matthew left before he could do anything.
***
He wandered around the city for a week. London had been a terrible idea after he’d forgotten how cold it got this time of the year. His battered leather jacket did little to stave off the evening frost and his shirt was starting to smell and attract unwanted attention with the spot of blood caked at the front.
It wasn’t that the elements affected Matthew the way it did humans; it was just mildly discomforting to stand in damp clothes at night while waiting for prey to walk into his trap. It sullied the overall mood. He wanted to at least look the part of vampire and at the same time blend in the periphery. He hadn’t had a decent meal since that night at Sam’s place when Sam had heated up the bags for him and joked about Matthew needing a sippy straw.
Matthew decided to pay Sam a visit for no real reason other than he had nowhere else to go. He was practically a vagrant, flitting from one place to the next and pilfering currency from his victims. He hated pick pocketing; it made him feel like such scum. But he needed the money so he could check himself into hotels where he could avoid the sun and if permitting, live a life of temporary luxury.
Sam was just on his way out when Matthew saw him from across the street. He wore the same jacket as last time but had forgone the beanie in favor of tying his hair in a bun. Matthew tailed him from a safe distance and almost lost him at the London Underground in a sea of commuters. But he concentrated hard on Sam’s scent which was peculiarly strong enough to drown out everyone else’s.
Sam disembarked at Charing Cross where he entered a hospital crowded with people in the receiving area. Matthew kept watch for a few more hours until he got bored and decided to go exploring. The smell of disease hung in the air mixed with warring scents of anxiety and death. Above everything, there was the smell of Sam’s blood which called out to him like a siren. Sam found him during his break, and accosted him near the pediatric wing. He wore blue scrubs and held a cup of coffee in his left hand. He looked tired but otherwise annoyingly cheerful.
“What are you doing here?” he said. “I thought you’d left.”
Matthew pushed himself off the wall with more nonchalance than he felt. “What do you mean – you knew all this time? ”
Sam just shrugged in answer, slurping his coffee. “I saw you at reception. I wanted to say hi but I had to do my rounds. Are you hungry?”
Matthew didn’t answer even though he was starving. He wondered how Sam knew. Matthew realized he’d been wondering a lot about him lately, why Sam wasn’t afraid of him and acted as if Matthew were just like him too, human.
“Come on,” Sam said, jerking his head down the hall. His coffee sloshed a little in his cop. “I want you to see something.”
***
Sam locked the door behind him. On the bed was a middle-aged man who had been stuck in a coma for the past fifteen years. Tomorrow his family was going to pull the plug. “Help yourself,” said Sam and checked outside again before pointing to the man.
Matthew hesitated. “Look,” he said, turning to Sam. “This is really personal and I would prefer it if you didn’t- ”
“Right, right,” said Sam, nodding in understanding. “I’ll just be outside then. Just, uh, clean up when you’re finished and don’t make a mess.”
Matthew gave him a look. Sam flushed and laughed at himself, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “I’ll just be outside. ” He gestured to the door.
Twenty minutes later, Matthew stepped out and joined him in the empty hallway. An orderly walked by pushing a woman in a wheelchair. Matthew licked the corner of his lips.
“How was it?” Sam asked, hands shoved in his pockets. “Or am I not supposed to ask? I’m not very familiar with vampire etiquette.” He was obviously trying to make him laugh but Matthew wasn’t rising to the bait. Besides, Sam wasn’t funny anyway. Neither were his asinine attempts.
“Why was he in a coma?” Matthew asked.
The question obviously took Sam by surprise. “Car accident,” he replied quietly. And then: “And hepatitis .”
“What?” Matthew slapped a hand over his mouth. Fuck . He’d nearly dried the guy!
Sam started laughing. “I was kidding,” he said. “He’s clean. I wouldn’t let you have at him, otherwise. The look on your face. Priceless!”
Matthew glared, rushing up, a blur of limbs, to grab Sam by the front of his shirt. Sam was only taller by an inch or two which made the angle rather awkward, like Matthew was going to kiss Sam. “That wasn’t very funny,” Matthew hissed, baring his fangs.
Sam thumped his head against the wall, grinning, eyes sliding half-shut as he rolled his head. “You need to lighten up, mate.” He disentangled Matthew’s fingers from his shirt, unhooking each finger slowly. “My shift ends in two hours. And my break has just… well, shit, officially ended .” He frowned down at his phone before slipping it in his back pocket. “If you want though, we can head out for coffee afterwards. The sun won’t be up in another couple of hours.”
Sam waited and Matthew said, “I don’t drink coffee,”
“You can watch me drink it.” Sam raised his eyebrows hopefully.
Matthew studied him for a second, trying to guess his intentions. Sam’s face remained earnest and open and Matthew wanted to slap it. “Are you asking me out? On a date ?”
Sam blushed and started babbling, touching his hair, his jaw, shifting from foot to foot. He was nervous. Matthew didn’t need the heightened sense to figure that out.
“I don’t know,” Sam said, starting to mumble. “It’s just coffee. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“I’m a vampire,” Matthew said, as a last ditch attempt to get out of the arrangement.
“I sensed that,” Sam said. He smiled uncertainly and Matthew found himself, in spite of everything, agreeing to meet him for coffee.
***
Matthew lingered in the car park to pass the time. The sky remained a dark shade of blue while he waited; the stars were too faint to see underneath the rolling fog. Sam met him for coffee as promised though Matthew thought he could’ve done a little better than McDonald’s.
“It’s the only place open twenty four hours around here,” Sam explained, ducking into his coffee and looking curiously around. He dug into his food as Matthew took perfunctory sips of his own coffee. It did nothing to him – there was the kick of caffeine which lasted about five minutes, and then nothing, and then something again. He drained his cup in one smooth gulp and crushed it in his hand before leaning back in his seat.
Everything was too bright here, stripes of garish yellow and red. But at least at this hour, the place was relatively empty with only a few people from the hospital occupying some of the tables. Some of them still bore the lingering stench of sickness. Sam, on the other hand, despite the scent of hospital, smelled like himself: warm skin with a daub of sweat.
“You really need to change that shirt,” said Sam, pointing at him with a fry.
“This is my only one,” Matthew said, startling himself with his own honesty. He felt embarrassed because of it and looked away instantly, fiddling with the end of a plastic straw, suddenly annoyed at himself. If he could blush he’d have been red in the ears by now. He used to be easily flustered when he was still human.
“I can lend you a shirt,” promised Sam.
Matthew’s jaw tightened but he didn’t meet Sam’s gaze. “I don’t need charity,” he said.
“Be that as it may,” Sam said. “You still need a new shirt.”
***
Sam invited him home. “Anytime you want to come in,” he said. “Come in.”
He must’ve had a death wish because he even showed Matthew where he kept his spare key. They hurried back to his flat after they’d lost track of time and the first thing Sam did as soon as they had arrived was shut all the curtains. Then he showered and Matthe
w could smell his clean soapy scent all the way in the bedroom. He probably needed a shower too but his eyes were starting to close and he could feel himself succumbing to the exhaustion of the last seven days. The shirt Sam had lent him was just as soft as his bed. Matthew was beginning to equate Sam with comfort which he knew was a dangerous thing. He wasn’t a pampered pet that Sam could keep on a leash; he was a vampire . Sam was human, highly unusual and aggravatingly tolerant, but a human still. He saw none of this working out in the long run.
Matthew slept cocooned in thick bedding and woke mid-morning hot and restless. A sliver of sunlight painted a hot line across the floor. He heard Sam come in through the front door smelling like sweat and sunshine – he’d probably gone to the gym or out for a run. Those were his soft thudding footsteps down the hall. Sam dumped his things on the floor and kicked off his socks and shoes before padding quietly into the bedroom where Matthew pretended to be asleep.
Sam had all the grace and subtlety of a baby elephant as he rifled through the closet for a change of clothes and then stood by the bed to stare at the side of Matthew’s face. He showered again, and there was the scent of arousal as he jerked off while he kept the water running to muffle the noise. Then a half hour later, he was puttering around in the kitchen making himself breakfast and whistling. Sam turned on his answering machine while he brewed his coffee. There was a beep, and then the scratchy voice of someone familiar made Matthew’s eyes fly open, tightening his grip on the blanket.
“Hey, Sam, it’s me, Perry. You haven’t been returning my calls, man. Pick up. I need to talk to you about something. I have leads on you-know-what. I’ll be in town this week. I hear London is a hotspot for those guys this year. I’m dying to see it myself. I wouldn’t be able to get my stuff past customs so I’m counting on you to get everything ready. See you.”
The message over, Sam walked into another room and pulled out something heavy: there was a thump and a creak and Sam sipped his coffee and sighed. “Jesus,” Matthew heard him say.
***
Matthew crept into the room as stealthily as he could. His footsteps, unlike Sam’s, made no noise on the floor. Sam’s back was turned to him. He sat on the edge of a small unmade bed, his elbows on his knees, a trunk of weapons lying half open in front of him.
Matthew felt his stomach drop. “You’re a hunter,” he said glumly. He didn’t know why he felt as disappointed as he did.
Sam buried his face in his hands and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. He peered at Matthew sideways, resting his cheek on a fist. “Yeah, kind of.”
Matthew was on him faster than Sam could blink. He pinned Sam to the floor, straddling his waist, his fingers curled around Sam’s shirt, his face pressed menacingly close. “And you did not think to tell me?”
Sam licked his bottom lip, unblinking. “It slipped my mind,” he said.
Matthew sneered.
“Look, I’m not going to hurt you.” Sam slid his hand over Matthew’s to ease his grip but Matthew wouldn’t relent so Sam’s fingers stayed coiled lamely around his wrist. “You never asked how you got here.”
Matthew didn’t even think to ask. Now it all made sense: the accelerated speed, the fearlessness, and Sam’s surprising strength. He barely flinched when Matthew had tightened his hand around his wrist.
“I saw what happened that night,” Sam said softly. “I followed you down the street and waited until you passed out before bringing you here.”
“Why? So you could kill me?” Matthew hissed loudly, pulling his lips back to show his fangs.
“Do you think we’d still be having this conversation if I wanted to kill you?” Sam sounded annoyed, and made a halfhearted attempt to shove Matthew off. “I don’t want to kill you,” he said. “Unless I absolutely have to.”
Matthew uncurled himself from Sam and sat cross-legged next to him. “I can’t be your friend.”
Sam shrugged and sat up slowly. “Yeah, I guess, not when you’re only nice half of the time. Who would want to be?”
Matthew didn’t laugh.
“Hey,” said Sam. “I’m just looking for my brother, all right? I thought you could help me seeing as you’re one of them.”
Matthew glared at him. “Oh, so in exchange for your hospitality you thought I’d gleefully jump at the chance to provide you with assistance.”
“That and you looked like shit when I found you,” said Sam. He looked embarrassed, his head ducked low, tangles of hair around his face.
“You’re friends with Perry.” Matthew wished he didn’t sound so betrayed.
“He’s my brother,” explained Sam.
Matthew snarled. “You’re one of the Darkwoods, then. Probably one of their two twin boys.”
Sam nodded. “The one no one talks about,” he said with a dry chuckle. “The doctor.”
Matthew had heard about them a few times, piecing together stories over the years. The Darkwoods were a family of hunters, notorious for their total body count. They were ruthless killers, and their repertoire of skills were not only limited to slaughtering vampires. Matthew knew he should’ve felt fear sitting in the same room as Sam but he looked deceptively harmless in sleep pants and a thin white undershirt, his bare toes pale as fish. Matthew listened to the telltale signs of Sam’s breathing: steady and calm instead of erratic with tension. Sam wasn’t even anxious or worried. He looked at Matthew expectantly.
“What happened to your brother?” Matthew asked.
Sam bit his lip. “Someone turned him. Thought it had be funny. That was five years ago though and we haven’t heard from him ever since.”
“And you think I can be of help?” Matthew raised an eyebrow.
Sam grinned, looking sheepish. “I don’t know. Can you?”
“Vampires don’t travel in packs. It attracts too much attention.”
“Right,” said Sam. “Right.”
“But sometimes,” Matthew said as Sam got up to pack up his weapons. “We meet up in secret.”
That got Sam’s attention.
PART TWO
The club was hot: vampires mixed with humans pretending to be vampires. Some of them were kept as pets; most stuck around, fascinated by vampirism or else were waiting to be turned.
“I’m glad you people don’t have, like, a dress code or something. I’d have hated to wear leather,” Sam said.
“Don’t say that,” said Matthew.
“What?” Sam plugged a finger into one ear. The music was so loud that even the walls seemed to shake. The lighting was bad enough for humans, heavy with smoke and sweat dissipating into the air, but even Matthew had trouble navigating through the murk.
“ You people? ” Matthew repeated.
“Sorry,” said Sam. He laid a hand on Matthew’s shoulder, squeezing gently.
The only reason Matthew was helping him was that so he could be out of Sam’s debt. David was the guy who knew everybody, newly turned vampires, and which ones to watch out for but the problem was he was the club-going type. And the only vampire club in London was The Red Room which humans mistook as a regular club much to the delight of its clientele. David was at the bar, mixing drinks, in a cowboy hat and sunglasses even though it was already dark and smoky. “How may I help you boys?” He handed a customer a vodka tonic before leaning across the counter and pushing down his sunglasses. “Matthew,” he said, fangs glinting. “Who’s your friend?” He winked at Sam and Sam laughed, grinning.
“Hey,” Sam said.
Matthew interrupted him before he could continue. “We’re here for information.”
“Ooh,” said David, making a face. “What kind?”
Matthew gestured to Sam. “He’s looking for his brother. He turned five years ago.”
“Contrary to popular belief, Thomas, my knowledge isn’t actually as expansive as the internet.”
“His name is Will,” said Sam. “Will Darkwood.”
David hesitated. Matthew almost didn’t notice it but he stiffened too. His smile t
urned sour as he poured himself some gin. “Ah,” David said, mouth twisting. “That one eh.”
“You know who that is?”
“Who doesn’t?” said David and curled a finger to beckon them ever closer. “Look, you want my advice?” He gave Matthew a pointed look. “Stop looking for him, you and your human pet.”
Sam squinted in confusion. “I’m not his- ”
David lifted a finger to silence him. “Unless you’re suicidal, don’t.” He put the cap back on the bottle of gin. David curled his hands on his hips and grinned before wagging his eyebrows. “Now, you boys gonna buy a drink or what?”
***
Sam left the club in a huff. Matthew followed him back to the flat in silence but stopped at the door once he realized someone was watching them from across the street. “Wait.” He grabbed Sam’s arm tightly and concentrated on narrowing down his search: smell of rain and cement and the rolling sweat of a long day, then underneath all of that, adrenaline. Sam unlocked the door, shrugging off his grip before inviting Matthew inside.
“I think someone followed us,” Matthew said, peering out the blinds. Sam poured himself some coffee, shrugging out his jacket which he tossed in a heap on the couch. He stood next to Matthew, outlined in the darkness by the soft light issued by the streetlight outside. “Thanks for tonight.”
“David was hardly helpful,” Matthew said, embarrassed. He’d prided himself on knowing David, and had met him back in the early days when he was lost and alone after he’d gotten the bite. David had been nice enough to show him the ropes, where to feed, what time was best, which people were more likely to put up the least struggle. And then after that, he left Matthew to fend for himself, and moved on to better prospects: assimilating with humans. He was one of the owners of The Red Room which was a den for the newly turned. It was risky to be so out in the open like that but David had always lived on the edge. Matthew envied that kind of courage.
“At least I know my brother’s alive,” said Sam, pressing his lips together in a thin line. “That’s enough for now. Enough to placate Perry who’s been driving himself crazy ever since Will started going missing.”