His voice was barely above a whisper when he added, “You guys keep me human.”
Sean was quiet for a moment, as if considering Thomas’ words, then he turned away and headed out toward the street.
“Yeah, well, it’d be easier for you to stay human if you remembered those of us who were with you when you still were human, Thomas. Because at this rate, you’re gonna forget what it’s like, and we won’t bother sticking around to remind you. We aren’t keepsakes. We’re your friends. You can’t come running to us whenever you want to feel better. I’m going to Clara’s because she actually cares.”
Sean’s parting words stung. Thomas remained on the complex entrance steps, watching his best friend disappear into the darkness beyond the dim streetlights.
There were a hundred things he wanted to say, a hundred seething retorts he wanted to scream, but Thomas couldn’t find the energy. Sean was right. Thomas could scream about safety and paint himself a martyr all he wanted, but his friends were not tools to remind him of better days or distractions when the weight of his new world became too much.
Groaning, Thomas found the resolve to repeat the three flights of stairs awaiting him. Before he stepped through the lobby door, a flicker of motion caught his attention. He spun around, squinting as he engaged his vampiric sharp vision. The gloom faded, and he could make out chipped bricks in the surrounding buildings.
Nothing moved.
Was it his imagination? The result of his nerves being shot to pieces? Too much stress?
Maybe it was his guilty conscience, a trick from his mind to convince him to follow after Sean. But following him would do more harm than good. Thomas wasn’t sure he could face Sean or himself at the moment—he’d been using his friends since he’d been changed, and now that he’d been called out, he didn’t know how to change.
Thomas slipped into the lobby and shuddered. Small lights flickered along the lobby walls, illuminating dark stairs and corridors to packed apartments. The lone door to the pub’s lobby entrance remained obscured in a dark depression in one wall. Too tired for three flights of stairs, Thomas gave up visiting his friends and retired to his own apartment only one flight up.
13 Awkward Moments
“Until this moment I’d honestly thought—maybe even hoped—you were just crazy,” Nelson confessed, his eyes full of professional curiosity as he watched Thomas work.
They were both in the makeshift hospital underneath the Red Lightning Pub, and their current patient, Goof, was laid out on a table, half asleep thanks to the empty jar of red lightning next to his head.
Most of the time, Goof was detached and kept his distance from other vampires. Goof preferred being quiet and working alone, and while he’d no taste for violence, he’d been a godsend for Sara’s spy network, who were keeping tabs on the blood junkies.
If the Boston Boys were to be believed, Goof had spent the last hundred and two years going from “half-decent horse thief” to a “no-good drunk.” While not nearly as stealthy as James, Goof’s spying was aided by an uncanny knack for being in the right place at the right time. This had kept the Red Lightning vampires one step ahead of trouble from the blood junkies.
Sara went as far as to claim it was because of Goof that Ernest had to rely on small ambushes and counterattacks—if he mustered more than ten vampires for a brawl, Goof would somehow hear about it.
The odd little vampire had a finite supply of luck and had gotten in over his head last night. Trying to eavesdrop on a conversation between a few of Ernest’s junkies, he’d crept too close and had been discovered. He’d escaped but had been slashed multiple times by a knife doused in holy water. An hour later he’d dragged himself into the Red Lightning Pub and ended up on Thomas’ operating table.
Nelson had insisted on following Thomas into the basement to help for the day; he’d taken some sick days and wanted to watch. Now he experienced the same morbid fascination with vampire resilience to injury Thomas had felt.
Thomas was grateful to have the company. Julia helped when she could, but she’d taken over managing the bar while Lawrence managed the war.
“You have no idea how many times the same thing has run through my head,” Thomas said as he set down the rubbing alcohol.
He pulled on new gloves and sutured a nasty laceration along the Goof’s arm. The special sutures removed the holy water in the wound, allowing it to heal. Thomas mentally counted to three hundred. By the time he finished with the count, the bleeding had stopped and was puckered with angry, enflamed tissue, making it appear like a week-old injury instead of one that wasn’t yet two hours old.
Nelson rubbed his eyes. “They—You—Vampires—all heal like this?”
“No. There are several different variables, but the key factors are age, any substances that could cause damaging reactions, and how much fresh blood the vampire has consumed recently,” Thomas nodded at the empty jar at Goof’s feet. “I’d say he’s got about five ounces of fresh blood in him. Human blood accelerates the regenerative properties. A true cure-all.”
“Amazing.” Nelson prodded Goof’s collarbone. “I could’ve sworn he had a contusion here when we first peeled off the shreds he had for a shirt.”
“Probably did. But by tomorrow morning he’ll be back to his old self. Even compound fractures are just a pint of blood and a few hours away from healing completely, if there isn’t anything that would stunt healing.”
As if to confirm how minimal his injuries were, Goof snored.
Nelson jumped, cursing under his breath. “I don’t know if I’m more amazed or terrified.”
Thomas grinned. “Well, next time we seem really scary, remember we’re terrified of sprinklers during daylight hours. The water might smudge our sun block.”
Nelson snorted and cleared away some of the medical equipment he’d instinctively grabbed while Thomas had helped Goof onto the table. None of it was necessary for most vampire injuries.
“Y’know,” Nelson said as he stuffed some bandages back in a drawer, “I could give you a hand down here more.”
The suggestion caught Thomas off-guard. He should have thought of this earlier. Any extra assistance, especially from another actual medical professional, would be a big help. But he’d been wary to ask his friends for anything. After the big fight he’d gotten into with Sean, Thomas had learned the rest of his friends shared some of the same resentments. They hadn’t gone as far as placing the blame on his shoulders like Sean had, but they were just as frustrated with being cooped up all day and felt slightly abandoned. Thomas had felt too guilty to ask for any of their help despite running himself ragged during the past day. He was too afraid to hear what they would say, afraid they would run out like Sean. It had been almost twenty-four hours since he’d left, and he still wasn’t back.
“It would be great to have an extra set of hands that knows medical terms from this century,” Thomas admitted as he tossed a small blanket over the snoozing vampire. “But I don’t want to force you to help.”
“Kid, I think it’s an excellent idea.”
Thomas nearly jumped as Lawrence entered the room.
Nelson frowned as he stated rather coldly, “Look, I’m doing this to help out a fellow physician and friend, not because you’re looking for more free labor.”
“Right, I’ll just jot down all of your hard work next to the pile of cabbage you owe me for crashin’ at my funhouse rent free.”
“Medical bills can be astronomically high, and I’m guessing health insurance is hard to come by when you’re older than the concept itself,” Nelson said, his smug smile unaffected by Lawrence’s glower.
While Lawrence hadn’t been as welcoming of a host as Thomas would have liked, Julia had assured him any dialogue between her father and the humans was a step in the right direction.
For once, Thomas didn’t feel the need to intervene on his friend’s behalf. He found the round of bickering to be entertaining.
Lawrence muttered something under his
breath and watched Goof.
“Is the old buzzard gonna be okay?” he asked, a touch of worry reaching his voice.
“Yeah, he got clipped pretty bad, but nothing like Charles’ injury. He should be fine now, especially with all the red lightning in his system,” Thomas said, surprised at his boss’ concern.
The war had taken its toll on Lawrence, and he was far from the jolly gentleman who had rescued Thomas.
“That’s swell. Real swell.” Lawrence grimaced. “He was my first customer. Well, first that was in the flock. Very first jar of red lightning. Popped the jar top with the same nickel he used to pay for it.”
Lawrence shook his head, as if indulging in memories of a happier time were a vice he didn’t want to get caught up in. He jerked a thumb to the exit.
“Come on, kid, I’ve called a little powwow. Gotta jaw about a pressing concern we’ve put off for far too long.”
“Sure thing. Hey, Nelson, why don’t you take stock of—” Thomas began, turning to give Nelson instructions about where the medical equipment was kept when Lawrence cut him off.
“No, he’s needed at our little shindig,” Lawrence said then added with heavy sarcasm, “That is, if the suave sawbones will do us the honor of gracin’ us with his all-important presence.”
“What’s this about?” Nelson asked as he followed Thomas.
“I dunno.”
As they entered the main room of the pub, Thomas admired the new décor. The common area of the bar practically gleamed, all the worn-out leather tops of the barstools had been patched, and the stage curtains had been shaken free of years of dust and cigarette smoke. The lone mic stand had been fixed with a cleverly created tin case, making the cheap black microphone look like it was something an authentic 1920s lounge crooner would have sung into.
Artemis had spent the day fixing the place. The impressive transformation of the Red Lightning Pub had surprised Lawrence, and he thanked her, joking he needed to win the war now because business would triple. Thomas felt guilty—he was certain she was updating the pub as a distraction from Sean’s absence.
Sara sat at the table Lawrence was striding toward, and Thomas’ stomach sank. Her presence meant the meeting wouldn’t involve the more obvious facets of the war. Furthermore, Lawrence’s inner core of soldiers, Charles, Jericho, and the Boston Boys, weren’t in the room.
In their places were Julia, Artemis, and Penny.
Thomas felt a rush of emotions when he saw Julia. He’d been busy the last couple of days, between trying to make life easier for his friends and treating the steadily worsening injuries of the other vampires. They’d hardly seen each other at all.
“What’s going on?” Thomas asked nervously as everyone gathered around Sara’s table.
The blank looks from his friends told him they didn’t have any answers.
Julia shrugged and glanced over at Sara. She’d been left out of the meeting’s purpose as well.
Nelson slipped into a chair next to Penny and leaned over to whisper something to her. Penny nodded toward Sara, who’d called them down.
“What’s going on?” Thomas repeated, glancing between Lawrence and Sara as he tried to decipher the meeting’s purpose.
“Well, there has been a discussion that has raised some interesting opinions,” Sara began in a carefully neutral tone.
Lawrence cut her off, attempting to shoulder the burden than to intentionally snub his wife.
“Pussyfootin’ around ain’t gonna get us anywhere fast, and the place we need to go is uncomfortable no matter how you slice it,” he said in a tone that demanded all eyes go to him. “Our fights are getting worse and people are endin’ up more and more hurt. Take that boozehound Goof as an example—things are so stirred up even walkin’ in some parts of town ends in heartache.”
No one said anything, so Lawrence pressed on.
“Wherever heartache appears, so does injury. When we get injured, there’s one cure-all we’re all dependent on. A cure-all that’s getting’ harder and harder to procure because we can’t risk any of our regulars being caught by a blood junkie because they gotta cross bad territory to get to us. Ernest’s crews jumped every one of our expeditions to go to our outside donors, leavin’ us only with the few donors who live in the apartments.”
At this point Lawrence glanced over at Sara, and Thomas had a distinct feeling the person who’d made the decision hadn’t been Lawrence. There was only one type of cure-all the leader of the Red Lightning Vampires could be talking about.
Nelson raised his eyebrows as the realization struck him. “You’re running out of blood.”
Thomas wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt more discomfort in a single room before. Lawrence seemed immune to it.
“Give the suave sawbones a cigar,” he said with a small clap. “Blood. The red stuff. We need it bad and our reserves are runnin’ low. Since no donors can get to us, we’re strugglin’ to rebuild them.”
Before he could make the suggestion, Penny spoke, “Let’s not mince words. You want to drink from us?”
Almost as one, all of the vampires shuddered in revulsion. While Penny had saved Lawrence from some explaining, she didn’t understand the negative connotations of her words.
Sara jumped in. “No! We do not feed on you. That’s the first thing I want to make perfectly clear. We do not do that. That would make us no better than the blood junkies who have given themselves to the red thirst. We ask for donations, which will be carried out by Thomas. Or Nelson, if you prefer.” She was almost pleading.
Artemis looked highly uncomfortable, and Penny was struggling to keep her cool composure. Nelson’s expression was unreadable, and Thomas feared the worst.
He couldn’t believe what Lawrence and Sara were asking. He’d done everything he could, outside of being their permanent bodyguards, to avoid them being vampire food.
“Secondly, I want you to know we won’t force you into this. No matter what anyone says, you’re here as valued friends and allies. We will not demand a single drop of blood from you.” Sara paused. “We are asking you to donate because you are already where we can protect you. It’s entirely your choice whether or not to become a donor, but please do not think that makes the request any less dire.”
The three friends were all stunned, trying to comprehend what was being asked of them.
Lawrence tried to drive the request home. “Ernest and those lunatics he’s runnin’ with are getting’ fat as ticks. They forcibly feed off of any addict or prostitute dumb enough to trade blood for promises and drugs, and if they’re smart enough to say no, they’re drained anyway. We ain’t sinkin’ to their level, but the more we fight them, the faster we drain our blood supply without bein’ able to replenish it easily. While I hate to say it, our lives might be in your hands.”
Silence once again filled the room.
At that moment, Thomas wished he could have been anywhere but at the small table. He’d turn back time if he could.
The silence was broken by the scraping of a chair as Nelson stood. Thomas looked up at him, afraid of what he might see, but Nelson’s face was as impassive as before. Penny and Artemis stood as well.
“I think we’ll need some time—” Penny started, but Nelson interrupted her.
“I’m in,” he said.
Everyone watched him in surprise. Artemis mouthed empty words and Penny’s normally cool façade was troubled.
“Are you serious?” Penny asked. “Just like that?”
Nelson looked directly at Thomas.
“I don’t see why not. I’ve seen the kinds of injuries we’re dealing with, and it’s nasty. If my blood can speed up the process, it’s my duty as a physician to help.”
“But they’d be drinking your blood,” Artemis said, looking revolted.
As the words left her mouth, she glanced at Thomas, looking embarrassed.
“How is that different than donating for blood transfusions?” Nelson demanded.
When neither Penny nor
Artemis could give him an answer, Nelson started walking toward the basement. Halfway to the stairs, he turned back around.
“Come on, Spencer,” he called. “Let’s do this before I change my mind.”
Thomas jumped hastily to his feet, avoiding Penny and Artemis’ stares. He had work to do, although it was the first time he ever regretted working in the medical field.
From behind him, he heard Penny speaking.
“Artemis and I need some time.”
“We understand. This is a lot to think about, and if the circumstances weren’t as dire, we would never dream to put you in a position like this,” Sara said with enough sincerity to make up for her husband’s lack. “We won’t press you on it, so answer when you’re ready. Anything to make the process easier.”
Thomas caught up to Nelson at the top of the stairs.
“Thanks, Nelson. I know this must be tough.”
“Don’t mention it,” Nelson replied. His tone was light, but his expression dark. “Just let me be the one to tell Sean about this, okay?”
Thomas nodded. It was for the best.
◆◆◆
Julia found Thomas alone in the lab after he had finished drawing Nelson’s blood. He leaned over the sink, his hands supporting his weight on the chipped basin as he remembered his friends’ faces from Lawrence’s meeting. Artemis’ horror and Nelson’s dark expression were something he couldn’t unsee.
“Let’s forget the rest of the night,” Julia said, dragging him up the stairs toward the apartments.
It was certainly easier said than done, and Thomas wasn’t sure she could make him forget what a terrible night this had been. Her fingers tickled his own in a way that usually made him shiver, but now he barely reacted.
Julia led him to her cramped studio apartment above the Red Lightning Pub. She’d moved to this smaller one when the Boston Boys arrived, giving them her full-size, single-bedroom unit. Small and cramped, being alone with Julia still didn’t make the apartment worth staying in.
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