The 3-Book King’s Blood Vampire Saga

by P. J. Day

  “Depends on who you ask,” Logan smirked.

  On the television, the modelesque talking head segued to a prerecorded segment of an infamous firebrand by the name of Vic Cervelli, who was known for his pro-market rants. He immediately began his trademark yells as soon as the camera turned to him on the trading floor.

  Megan, this is another giveaway to the lazy takers of this once great country. We here on the floor are tired, absolutely tired of the fruits of our labor being bandied about like peanuts at a circus. What’s the point? What is the goddamn point if the bankers are now drinking the Kool-Aid?

  The stockbrokers on the floor cheered at Cervelli’s bluster. Vic grabbed what little hair he had on his head and began tugging at as if it were a straw bale with insurmountable frustration. He stomped around in random circles. The stockbrokers began throwing tickets and receipts at him, in some sort of bizarre ritualized rally.

  Logan chuckled at the television. “This is nuts.”

  “But the markets are crashing,” Keelen said, with clueless worry.

  “So? I wouldn’t be surprised if you have a little more money in your bank account. Who do you bank with again?”

  “United American Bank.”

  “Check your account.”

  Keelen hurriedly raced toward the computer and pulled up the online banking portal. Her eyes widened with excitement. “What the hell? I had five dollars in my account yesterday. Now there’s a couple hundred. How’s this happening?”

  “Mel Scherzer, C.E.O. of U.A B. drafted legislation, with the help of Congress, which legalized predatory interest rates on credit cards. It was a disgusting form of usury. There’re memos floating around showing direct communication with the bank and some members of Congress that lead this particular legislation, which all began with borderline bribery. A little birdie informed Mel that everyone would know of his escapades and he somehow changed his heart and mind about everything and is now just making it up to you.”

  Keelen stood stone-faced in front of her computer. “I feel kind of guilty with this money in my account. How do you know what you’re saying is true?”

  “Is Mark Cohen from Marcus and Samuelson on the hot seat?”

  “I think so. Slick dude who runs the largest bank, right?”

  “Well, he just liquidated a quarter of the investment bank’s value. Am I right?”

  “Yeah, I think so. I remember them talking about it before you woke up.”

  Keelen and Logan’s heads quickly veered toward the television. Mark Cohen, C.E.O. of Marcus and Samuelson could not be reached for an interview. Investors of the world’s largest investment bank are calling for Mr. Cohen’s immediate resignation, as a quarter of the bank’s assets have been liquidated to distressed homeowners, sending the Dow and other global markets into a tumble.

  Keelen chastised Logan. “Why are you smiling and how do you know all this? This disruption of global markets isn’t good.”

  Logan stared at the television with a fixed smile. “This should’ve happened a long time ago.” He turned toward Keelen and put his hands on top of his head, trying to tame his hair without the aid of a mirror. “So, you still up for dinner?”

  “Logan, there’s probably chaos in the streets. How can you want to go to dinner?”

  “I guarantee there is no chaos in the streets.”

  “Fine, I guess. But I’m paying for drinks with this blood money.”

  “You just got your blood money back. That 25% interest rate you paid on that card was ridiculously unjust,” Logan said. “I’m going to put some clothes on.”

  Wrinkles gathered on Keelen’s forehead as she sat on Logan’s couch in deep reflection. Her phone vibrated. The cricket chirp signaled the arrival of an email. The email was from Medi-Shield, the insurance company she had coverage with while working at the gallery.

  We wish to inform you that your coverage will continue uninterrupted until you have informed us that you have found another provider or have found the sufficient resources that would help you renew coverage with us. Thank you for being a Medi-Shield customer and we are happy to make sure you continue to feel secure about your health coverage needs.

  Keelen put her phone into her purse and gazed at the television with a zombie-like stare. “Logan, did you put me on your medical plan?”

  “Oh, you know what?” Logan answered from inside his room. “I forgot to add you. I’ll give you the application when I’m done getting ready.”

  “No rush,” Keelen said, smiling. “Somehow I’m still covered with my old insurance.”

  Logan’s laugh traveled through the living room. “Good to see that the health insurance companies are on the bandwagon, too.”

  —oOo—

  Logan purposely drove his silver and black, Audi R8 through the interconnected neighborhoods of West L.A. He weaved his two-door supercar through the suddenly gridlocked boulevards and slowed his car down to a purr as he drove on the residential streets, ogling at people’s homes like a curious and benevolent voyeur. Keelen sat comfortably in the leather, bucket seat, transfixed on her phone, reading the up to the minute reports on the day’s happenings.

  “Look at them,” Logan said, pointing toward a modest home, with tall unkempt grass on its front yard.

  Families were gathered on the sidewalks, talking to one another about their sudden bouts of fortune. Other streets had impromptu block parties. People were crossing the street in front of Logan’s car with carefree smiles and raucous cheers. Children rode their bicycles throughout the evening; others played catch with one another, escaping the numbing sensations of television and video games. Keelen stared at her phone then out the window and back on her phone again. “I’ve never seen people this happy before, but there is so much dread online.”

  “Quit reading what’s on your phone or go to websites with more user generated content,” Logan said, trying to pull Keelen out from her mopey funk. “There’s a revolution going on.”

  “The White House has just issued a statement saying that they had nothing to do with the sudden liquidation of financial institutions. They’re claiming it was all compulsory,” Keelen said, while staring at her phone’s screen. “What does compulsory mean?”

  Logan smirked. “It means that the banks reached deep, deeply into their hearts and provided some much needed charity for once.”

  Keelen ignored Logan’s subtle sarcasm and said, “The look of anguish from the president doesn’t make me feel good about all this.”

  “Ha, of course. His ear is being chewed off by a lot of people that have lost a lot of money. The game of greed is highly volatile. They knew what they were getting themselves into,” Logan said.

  He made a right-hand turn onto Santa Monica Boulevard and headed straight toward the restaurant. Many of the small shops along the way were experiencing a sudden wave of new business, as the sidewalks seemed more crowded than usual.

  Keelen looked away from the window and saw that she was receiving a call from Cindy.

  “Do you mind?” she asked Logan.

  Logan shook his head lightly and said, “I don’t mind, go ahead.”

  “Hello?” Keelen said, smiling coyly at Logan.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” Cindy said, with excitement coloring her voice.

  Keelen rolled her eyes at Logan.

  “Remember that ball I showed you at the diner.”

  “Yeah.”

  “It rolled.”

  Keelen laughed. “What do you mean it rolled?”

  Cindy cut Keelen off, “It’s not funny.”

  “Sorry, but a ball is supposed to roll.”

  “Don’t you remember? I brought a ball into the diner and it refused to roll but I would push it and it would just slide?”

  “Okay, I remember now,” Keelen said.

  “I pointed the rod at the ball and it rolled.”

  “Really?” Keelen said, glancing over at Logan.

  Logan glanced back suspiciously.


  “It rolled all the way toward the front door,” Cindy said, worried. “I’m beginning to freak out. This is some spooky shit.”

  “Just put it away for right now,” Keelen said.

  “What time are you coming home?”

  “I don’t know, around eleven maybe?”

  “Where are you?” Cindy asked. “All the crap on the news is starting to scare me.”

  “I’m with Logan. We’re going to dinner at...” she said, looking at Logan for the name of the restaurant.

  “Perry’s Steakhouse,” said Logan.

  “...Perry’s Steakhouse,” Keelen said to Cindy.

  “Be a good girl,” said Cindy.

  “I’m just having dinner with my boss, no biggie.”

  “Please promise me you’ll be home, okay?”

  “All right, put the books and the rods and the balls all away till I get home. Check your bank account while you’re at it, you might have a little something extra in there for a movie or something until I get home.”

  —oOo—

  Keelen chewed a piece of her moist and succulent New York strip. She hummed loudly as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She then took a sip of her third glass of Merlot, washing down the fine sliver. “Thank you,” she slurred.

  “You’re very welcome,” Logan smiled, sitting back in the booth, taking in the bustling scenery.

  The restaurant was full of new patrons. Perry’s was usually a place for L.A.’s elite to be seen, but tonight it was filled with new faces. Typically, regulars wore nice suits and boutique dresses; tonight some wore jean shorts, while others sported t-shirts and sneakers.

  The restaurant was able to fulfill Logan’s reservation in a timely manner, despite the long wait time for dinner. There was a flurry of new cash being injected into the local economy tonight. Logan raised his glass at Keelen for a toast, as he sensed his plan was coming to fruition.

  “Here’s to a new prosperous age for all.”

  Keelen lifted her Merlot and tapped Logan’s glass. She took another sip and said, “You have something to do with this, don’t you?”

  “Me? I don’t have that much power.”

  “You at least contributed to it,” Keelen said, with a wry smile. “This has something to do with your project. That lady you were interviewing. It had something to do with her, didn’t it?”

  Logan raised his eyebrows and then gave Keelen a slight nod. “Maybe.”

  Keelen’s phone vibrated, it was Matt. She looked at Logan for a reaction. Logan sipped his wine and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t care, answer it.”

  Buzzed, Keelen waved her hand dismissively. “Nah, I’ll call him later,” she said, as she accidentally kicked Logan’s shin. “That wasn’t me playing footsies, just so you know.”

  “It actually kind of hurt, so no, I didn’t think you were playing footsies with me.”

  “I think I have titanium on the front of these heels. I could probably puncture a soccer ball with these. You want try it after dinner. I saw a soccer field on the way over here.”

  “Maybe,” he playfully grinned. “How’s your mom?”

  Keelen drew her eyes to the side. “She’s sick.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “The doctors don’t know.”

  “Do you mind me asking what her symptoms are?”

  “She’s had body aches for over a month now. She has recurring night sweats, and her back pain won’t go away.”

  “Have they run tests?”

  “They’ve tested for lymphoma, MRI’s, blood tests, CAT scans...nothing.”

  “When do you plan on seeing her again?”

  “Well, I was thinking around Easter. Hopefully, I should have enough money saved by then.”

  Logan pulled out his phone and began scrolling. “I’ll buy you a round-trip ticket for Easter.”

  Keelen smacked her lips and grabbed Logan’s hand. “No. You’ve already done enough. What gives with you?”

  Logan tried concentrating on buying the tickets on his phone, while Keelen tried to wrestle the phone away from him. “There,” he said, as he pressed the confirmation button. “Your mom is going to be very, very happy to see her daughter, come Easter. Make sure you buy her something nice with the money you’ve saved up so far.”

  Keelen threw herself back into the booth. She let out a sigh and crossed her arms. “Logan, seriously, what’s going on? You’ve gone from being extremely generous to possibly being a revolutionary,” she said. “Wait a minute,” she laughed. “I’m having dinner with a revolutionary.”

  “You make me feel warm, you know?” said Logan, with soulful inflection.

  “Excuse me?” Keelen responded, nervously.

  “You wear your emotions on your sleeve. You are indisputably human. You make me cheer.”

  Keelen shook her head slightly. “Wait a minute, are you complimenting me? Is this some sort of compliment?”

  “Yes. I’m complimenting you. Your faults are charming. Your mannerisms are contagious.”

  “My faults are charming? What the heck is that supposed to mean?” she asked, sneaking in a burp. “Excuse me.”

  “You’re not afraid of mixing it up. It makes you fun to be around. You’re loyal and also have an honor code you live by. On top of all that, you’re physically beautiful. Stay true to yourself, promise me,” Logan said, impassioned. He bit into a large chunk of steak from his fork and flashed Keelen a pair of innocent and smiling eyes.

  Keelen sat still, stared at her wine glass, anxiously stirring the red liquid in circles. She hypnotized herself away from Logan’s sincere analysis of her entire being. She didn’t know how to react. A beautiful, noble, brilliant and chivalrous young man just tore straight through Keelen’s entire soul. She felt vulnerable.

  “Do you remember why we broke up?” asked Logan.

  Keelen looked up at the ceiling, refusing to make eye contact with Logan. Compose yourself, she thought. Matt’s stink was all over her. A selfish and sometimes immature stink, but Keelen saw herself as a one-stink woman.

  She reluctantly looked down from the ceiling and blinked her eyes rapidly at Logan, trying to deflect any sort of connection. “What did you ask?”

  “What’s on the ceiling?”

  “Nothing, I thought I saw something flash.”

  Logan’s eyes widened. “You saw something flash?”

  “No, I mean like a shadow.”

  “A shadow?” Logan said, forcefully throwing his fork down at the table and tensing his shoulders.

  “No, listen, there’s nothing up there. What are you doing? You look like you’re going throw-down with the ceiling.”

  “Nothing,” he said, as he scanned the restaurant with intensity.

  “Why we broke up?” Keelen asked, snapping her fingers at Logan, reverting back his attention.

  “Yeah, do you remember?”

  Keelen paused. “We just drifted apart and I guess…I guess I didn’t want to get hurt...it was strange, you know? Like I knew we weren’t going to be together, but I knew and felt you’d still be around. You can call it the cleanest breakup ever.”

  “You’re a free spirit, uncorrupted in some ways. I think that’s why you can’t get acting jobs. They don’t see someone they can take advantage of. Are you sure you want to continue trying to make it in an industry where you possibly have to sacrifice a part of yourself? You have a wonderful heart, how about trying something larger than yourself?”

  “Did you listen to anything I just said?” Keelen asked, ignoring his furthered analysis.

  Logan sipped his glass and took his time with an answer. “I was hurt when we broke up. I really thought we were going to take this town by storm, you and me and the limitless future.” Logan then cleared his throat. “Do you remember being with me before you met me?”

  “What?” Keelen asked, clearly bothered by the question. “What kind of Buddhist, Hindu, and Eastern thought process loaded question is that?”

  �
�Never mind,” he said, taking a bite from his fork. “Listen, have you ever spoken to a child who was terminally ill?”

  Keelen’s eyes sagged; surprised that he would take the conversation into a macabre direction.

  “They look into your eyes and they don’t see mortality like you and me, like an adult.”

  “It’s because they don’t know better,” Keelen added.

  “No, they sense a goodbye coming. They subconsciously feel some sort of end, because everyone treats them nicer. They receive more hugs, kisses, gifts, and more love than they’ve ever seen. But you ask some of these children what they want and soon you find out, some of them weren’t the most optimal human beings. They want things to numb their pain; they want more toys, more video games, more stuff, but the noble ones. The ones who you knew were going to grow up to be something special, the ones who were going to propagate humanity for the better, felt an insurmountable feeling of loss for their family, for their mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters. They somehow saw past the distractions, beyond the material things that had the potential to suck out what it means to be human. But there was no panic in their eyes. Calmness. Serenity. No regrets. Just a sense of loss. A pure sense of loss with no strings attached. All they felt was love all their lives. No struggles. They didn’t have years and years of life’s ugly side knocking them down, over and over again. They were leaving Earth’s plane knowing what love was. Humanity at its best. This is the natural state of man. Leaving the planet peacefully. We’ve lost that. Before everything happened, every human being left the planet like how a noble child leaves this world. In essence, that is why I broke up with you. I wanted to protect your innocence to some degree. I want to bring that peace back to this world.”

  Keelen’s eyes began watering. She sensed something deeper within Logan. Something he wasn’t inclined to tell her. “Is there something you’re hiding from me? I don’t understand. I’ve been knocked down by life. It’s not hard. I can handle anything.”

  Logan grabbed Keelen’s hands and peered into her deep blue eyes. “You’re still not jaded. You haven’t given up on people who you should give up on. Those are who I’m fighting for. Those are who I’m trying to protect. You don’t deserve to be used over something you can’t quite comprehend.”