==========
I was right on time, but I didn’t have to be: he’d have waited. Just as he had been waiting, hunkered down in the alley, in the dark. He’d‘ve waited till the sun came up and blasted him into ashes, he didn’t know any better. But I came and spared him, saved his life, if you could honestly call it that.
As soon as I had one foot in the alley, he was on me. Rushed up, shaking, his eyes wide and shining in the dark.
“You got it, man? Right?” he asked, desperation spilling from his mouth. “You got it?”
“Course I got it. Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
I opened my hand and showed him the two capped syringes. He made for them, but my fingers were faster and they closed around the tubes, hiding them from view. “What you got for me?”
His tongue lolled out. Wondered if I could be played. I could see it on his face. He was hungry enough, no doubt about it, but he hadn’t been a ‘breed that long, which is exactly why he needed me. The tongue licked at the new and sharp white canines. Then he pulled his lips over his teeth in a grimace, and his hand jammed into his pocket, coming out with a wad of crumpled bills, and thrust the wad at me.
It was enough, barely. I took the ball of cash and gave him what he needed. He wasted no time, ripping the cap off one and plunging the needle into his neck, a look of relieved ecstasy washing over his white dead face. Yanking the needle with one hand, the thumb fumbled to uncap the other. The cap shot off, he hurled the empty tube into the darkness and made to plunge number two.
“No business of mine,” I said as I was leaving. “But I’d save some. Price goes up next week.”
He shot me a pained look like I’d just run over his dog, full of anger and misery. “No way! You can’t do that!”
“Got to.” I spread my hands wide in a typical gesture of “What can I do?”
“Folks been noticing here and there. Heat may be on. Ain’t a public service, ”breed.“
Panting, tongue licking out like a snake, he was going into a panic. “How much?”
I shook my head. “Don’t know yet. I’ll get the word out soon as I do.”
“You prick,” he said, getting shakily to his feet. He had some blood in him now, felt stronger, healthier, .like he was human again. “I should just tear you up, get it over with.”
I nodded. “Yeah, that would solve your problems.” I turned and stared him down. One syringe gave him the strength to do me, yeah, but he didn’t have it in him yet. Which is why we had the perfect business relationship. “You weren’t so kill-shy in the first place, wouldn’t be in this mess. Learn some fuckin‘ survival instincts, junior, or get used to the dark and get used to me.”
He didn’t like that. Didn’t think he would. He growled and faded back a bit, into the dark where I couldn’t see him well; then he lunged, his hands coming into the dim streetlight first. But I had my own hand up before he closed the gap. Crosses and holy water and all that movie shit works on these idiots only if you believe in it. Human faith. They lost theirs at rebirth. I don’t believe in any of that shit, personally, so I held up my own talisman, giving him a quick burn on the forehead, making him yelp and jump back. Holding his hand up to the smoking patch of flesh, his growl was gone, but he was still glaring at me. I smiled— didn’t even singe the ten-spot I burned him with. Everyone has their own gods.
I jammed my ten back into my pocket, shot him a look of disgust and pity for good measure and turned my back on him, just to show him what I really thought of him. “See you next week, ”breed. Do me a favor and pass the word around.“
He didn’t like that either, but what could he really do about it?
==========
Vampires are a lot cooler in the movies. They’re smoother, better looking, dress better, scarier. Even the punks in these new movies have more style than the ‘breeds I deal with every night. These rotting, stinking morons who still think they’re human, still think they feel human. Afraid to kill or even feed on live blood. Can’t go out in the sun, think they should be afraid of garlic, for Christ’s sake? What is that? It’s like a human afraid of his own shadow ’cause someone told him it could hurt him. These ‘breeds don’t even know how to be what they are. Too scared to go sunbathing and get it over with.
Who knows how they got like that. Million different stories. Sloppiness by the ‘bloods that made them, most like. Doesn’t matter. As long as they can pay for the blood, I don’t care if they evolve or die come morning. Once the money’s in my hand, it ain’t my worry.
I was telling the truth before, about the price jack-up. Buddy of mine’s a paramedic, gets me what I need by siphoning some off his riders. Rest I can get through work, if I really need it. I get it from work, I can’t charge as much. I’m a day morgue worker. My job to empty the corpses of their own fluid and pump them up with the embalming kind. “Breeds like blood from lifers; dead blood’s too stale for ‘em, but generally, they’ll take what they can get Risks are different in this case. I don’t worry about getting caught ’cause it’s all refuse anyway. It’s a haz-mat thing, but I’m reasonably sure anyone saw me’d look the other way. Even if they didn’t, it’s no big deal, really. Just you can’t always know what’s in the blood this way. ”Breeds who haven’t killed yet are still susceptible to human diseases. Overly so, in some cases. No immunity yet. But then again, there ain’t many who care, either. They know the risks. Hunt or get it from me. Only choices.
==========
Dane and Cobalt caught up to me in the bar. I needed a few before I went home, and midway through my second, they came right up behind me. They looked as pissed off and self-righteous as usual. I think they figured out I’d been avoiding them and their little lectures.
Dane was a huge black guy—or ‘blood, or whatever you want to call him when he ain’t around. Mean-looking, but slow to bare the fangs. Cobalt used to be a hot club chick, and still was, in a lot of ways. Eternally sixteen, hair dyed “black number one,” leather and chains and silver over cleavage. I liked looking at her, even when she was giving me shit, which was every time I saw her.
“Stivic—,” Dane started, a deep growl of social conscience.
“I know, Dane,” I said, not looking up from my beer. I could see them in the mirror. They weren’t pulling their tricks tonight, not in a crowded lifer bar.
“You know, but you persist,” he went on. I coulda mouthed it with him. First time I crossed with Dane, I thought he was trying to shake me down for a cut, like a pimp for ‘breeds. But it was worse: a neighborhood watch, helping the ’breeds off the streets with tough love and all that feel-good lifer shit. Dane and Cobalt were new gen‘ ’bloods, wanted to teach the ‘breeds to hunt for themselves. Teach them the gentle art of what they called “tapping”— getting lifer blood without making more ’breeds. Population control. Safe feeding. Social responsibility. And I’m the scum of the Earth.
“They don’t buy from me, they buy from Willy, or Little Bob.” There weren’t many of us, obviously, but it was more than just me raping and pillaging out there.
“Willy’s dead.” That came from Cobalt. First time she spoke since they came in. I stopped, midswig, and turned around to look at her. She was easy on the eyes, but I wasn’t sight-seeing just then.
“What happened to Willy?”
“Barlow and ‘Sil,” she said. “And Savin. And that whole group. They decided they didn’t want him around anymore.”
“Unanimous vote,” Dane said. “They’re cleaning up the nights.”
I felt a little cold. Willy was a goofball, but he was all right. Had been, anyway. Barlow and that bunch were mean. Old school ‘bloods. Top of the line hunters. Used to do it for fun before they got civilized.
“Doing this is serious, Stivic. Cobalt and I can’t protect you anymore.”
“I wasn’t aware you two were my guardian angels.”
“Only thing keeping you above ground is you haven’t passed any bad blood lately.”
“Hey, my stuff’s clean. Quality, man. I even siphon off myself from time to time, rather than give tainted shit.”
“Yeah, you’re a prince,” Cobalt said.
“You want to keep pushing, that’s your business,” Dane said. “You got no one to answer to now, Stivic. You are now without a net.”
And then they were gone. “Bloods are fast when they want to be. Faster than human sight. They wanted to remind me of that.
Shit. Dane and Cobalt were pains in the ass, but Barlow and that bunch weren’t ones to piss off. I knew them by reputation only, never met a one of them. But a few years back, one of their private clubs got raided by some hopped up lifer group who found them somehow. Tore the place up with long bows. They got tore up even worse, though, when they stopped to reload. And since then, the unspoken truce ‘bloods have with lifers has been a bit thin. If Barlow and Savin are cleaning up, then lifers like me gotta toe the line till the heat dies down. “Bloods don’t kill their own, but they’ll rip me any day they think I’m trouble.
I don’t think I’m trouble, just trying to make a buck is all. Not that they’d see it that way. I finished my beer and got the hell out of there, just in case I was in high demand that night.
==========
Message on my answering machine wasn’t good. I had a big night coming up. Lotta regulars in need of a fix. Fridays are always good for a grand at least, but I was running low on stock. I pressed the flashing button and heard the voice of my buddy, Ron: my supplier and partner.
“Dude, this is Ronny. Listen, I mighta gotten busted tonight. Gotta new partner with high ideals. Might be nothing, just a blow up, but I better lay low, just to make sure. Hope you got enough to hold you a week or two. Later.”
Of course. My luck had been going too good for too long. Something had to change. Can’t ride a wave forever. But I was low, real low. Almost out of the good stuff. Which meant either I was tomorrow’s cow, or I hope for a really good couple of stiffs. And the way things were going, I could see hoping was for suckers.
I don’t like needles—I’m a real pussy when it comes to them. The line I gave Dane wasn’t bullshit; I’ve tapped myself a couple of times in the past, when I was just starting out. It hurt, and it took a million tries to find the vein. I don’t know how the fuck junkies do it. I almost pass out every time. Most times, I can’t do it at all. So I wasn’t too fond of the idea of tapping myself to get my big score. I’d have to play tomorrow by ear.
They fished two homeless guys out of the river the previous night. That’s all I got. I didn’t like the downward course my life was taking.
“Breeds don’t scare me; they’re weak and sick—they haven’t the foggiest freaking idea what they’re actually capable of. But without a fix, even the biggest pacifist on the street is bound to get irritable. I told myself they were depending on me, that I was keeping them alive till they learned. But what’d I say before? I ain’t the Red Cross. I wanted the money. I’ve held out before on ‘breeds who couldn’t pay.
I wanted the money and I’m chickenshit of needles. So I siphoned off the two old bums.
The blood came out thin, watery, more river water and Mad Dog than hemoglobin. It had an odd odor to it I didn’t like either. Had a weird color, even for dead blood.
It was shit. I knew it. Took it anyway.
My first ‘breed that night took the syringes greedily and I took off before he used them. I’d mixed the dead blood in with the remaining good stuff, shuffled the syringes around so I wouldn’t know. Maybe I could make it last a little, or at least, make it look like it wasn’t done on purpose. Thin, yeah, I know. But I tried to tap myself. I mean, I really tried. Couldn’t do it, man. Got sick at the sight. Couldn’t get the syringe anywhere near the vein.
So I made haste after every sale, couldn’t watch them stick themselves. Didn’t know what the bad stuff would do and didn’t want to find out. I had twenty-three customers buying two tubes each. I’m supposed to drain myself of all that? Come on.
Halfway through the night, my path doubled back and I stumbled over one of the evening’s previous buyers.
He was sitting on the ground, propped up against the side of the building, and had both needles sticking out of his neck. I prayed to God that ‘breeds can OD. Take it too fast or too much, whatever. But I knew they couldn’t. His eyes were wide open, yellow, staring, still shining in the sliver of streetlight knifing through the dark. Thick black and bloody vomit caked around his mouth and chin, down the front of his shirt. His mouth was open, I could see the four sharp canines poking up beyond the other teeth.
My mind ran through its litany of denials. I didn’t force him to take the stuff; he used too much at once. My favorite, my battle cry: He would have just bought from someone else. Whatever. Even if it wasn’t the blood, it didn’t look good for me. I sucked it up, though, tried putting it out of my mind as I headed for my last sale.
My last ‘breed was a customer named Quick. Ex-lifer gang-banger you wouldn’t think would have night-sweats about killing for food. I guess capping someone in a drive-by is easier than drinking a guy’s blood.
Quick looked even jumpier than normal when I met him at our usual place. It could have been the flickery fluorescent lighting in the all-night McDonald’s restroom, but he looked like complete shit.
“So, what, you’re like the grim reaper now?” he demanded, keeping his back to the wall as I closed the door behind me. I played it cool, even as my stomach jumped and I felt my dinner backing up.
“What are you on? You got my money?”
“Fuck no! And stay away from me with that shit. You know you already killed six brothers? You on a killing spree or something?”
“Six!? What are you talking about?” Jesus H. Christ— six!
“Passing bad blood, motherfucker! It ain’t like we can kick the habit, you son of a bitch! We need that to fucking live!”
I had to keep a grip, keep making like I had no idea what he was talking about. Leveled my gaze, got out the needles, said, “So, you don’t want yours tonight?”
“Not that shit!”
I stuck the syringes back in my pocket. “Fine. See you round.”
“Hey! Hey, man!”
I stopped, half turned, cool as hell. “Change your mind?” I was pissing myself. Six dead. I was toast. Had to get out of here. Leave for a while.
“I got wise to you, motherfucker. You heard of a bad-ass bitch named ‘Sil?”
Dead. I was fucking dead.
“She coming for your ass, shitdick. She gonna get me off your ticket. Take me in. Take you out.”
“Good,” I said, hoping my voice wasn’t shaking as badly as my hands were, jammed into my pockets till they were ripping through the lining. “Maybe she’ll give you some brains. Or at least some balls. Make you a ‘blood and stop being a pussy.” Big words from a corpse.
He just smiled, showing me his teeth. “You goin‘ down, Stivic. Poisoning ’breeds, must have a death wish.”
“It wasn’t poison! They couldn’t handle it!” I was losing it. He wasn’t even listening, climbing up and out the window, shimmying up the slick, stained, broken-tile wall like a tarantula.
“Chew you up, Stivic,” he said, almost giggling. “Spit you out.”
“They’da bought from someone else,” I said for like the fiftieth time that week. “I’m not the only one selling!” I backed against the wall, behind the door, as far as I could from his retreating back, from the open window, now empty of Quick.
“Have a nice night, chump.” And he was gone.
I ran over to where he’d been. Jumping as I yelled, to get to the high-set window. “Tell them I never passed bad blood before! This was a bad batch! Quick! It was a mistake, you know me, man! I’ll make it all up! Two weeks for free! Quick! Quick!”
Nothing. He’d vanished, and I’d completely lost it. I pressed my cheek against the cold hard tile, squeezed my eyes tight to make it all go away. I was so dead. So stupid. Pissed, scared, frustrated, greedy, stupid. A rage settled over me and before I knew what I was doing, I picked up the plastic trash can and began smashing it against the mirror over the sink, spilling garbage everywhere and yelling “Shit! Fuck!” and variations of the two.
Then some old rent-a-cop heard the noise and came in, hand on the butt of his gun, but I threw down the trash can and bolted past him. Once I got outside, I rounded the corner, got into the dark as fast as I could, forgetting that that was the worst place to hide from ‘bloods. I don’t even know if I cared just then. Panting, swearing, I ripped the last two syringes out of my pocket and hurled them down the alley as hard as I could, then took off before I heard them land, shatter in the darkness.
It suddenly dawned on me—I don’t know why—but I had one last chance. Something Dane told me a long time ago, or maybe something I already knew from dealing with ‘breeds and ’bloods these past two years. “Bloods don’t touch ‘bloods. Or ’breeds. They don’t kill their own, not like lifers. My one way out was to ditch being a lifer. To join up. Get a sponsor, a ‘breed I was still down with, offer myself up. Get out of this mess, I was that fucking desperate.
Couldn’t be a ‘breed, though. Too new at it. Might take too big a bite, or suck too long, then I’d be done anyway. A ’blood, though. A ‘blood would do it right. Make me. That’d be my shield. Save my ass. Then I could buy into Dane’s crusade, or offer Barlow my services, even. Hell, I knew all the ’breeds, even the ones who hide down deep, hide from everyone. The ‘bloods needed me to help their reform thing. Everyone knows: Stivic knows every ’breed.
So I took off, ran as hard as I could, checking every lifer club I’d ever seen Dane in. Every little nook where I’d ever run into Cobalt. Went to the places ‘bloods liked. All the while, feeling the shadows closing in. Every alley had eyes looking out, watching me. Barlow’s little coven, his inquisition.
My paranoia had me in a vise grip. I looked around me, behind me, stumbling over my own feet as I ran, not bothering to chitchat with any lifers who spotted me, oblivious of the fact that there were monsters all around them, every night. Not privy to the information I had. I knew though. Savin could be right above me, floating invisible over my head, keeping right up with my hysterical run. “Sil, clinging ass-to-the-wall, past my line of sight, watching, waiting to reach out and tear open my throat, spill my blood into the gutter.
Barlow’s group were serious ‘bloods, doing the comic book parlor tricks. Some of them were centuries old, still knew how to become smoke or a wolf whenever they wanted. Could slide through the cracks of doors the width of a knife blade. They didn’t fall for the garlic tricks. The faith thing didn’t faze them much. Who cares about what lifers believe when you were around before they were out of the trees?
They were fast. Eye-blink fast. Hit a light switch and cross the room before it got dark. They could be on the ceiling, or in the wind. They were the monsters in the closet. They were all your fears in one box. Shadows with sharp teeth.
I needed Dane. I needed Cobalt. They weren’t friends, but they wouldn’t offer me up. I needed them to protect me from the monsters.
Finally, I found them. Rather, they found me. Before I knew what was happening—running down Furnace Avenue, heading for the Cellar Club—the wind whistled, cold all around me, and then I was dumped on my ass on a rooftop, looking out over the city and the river, the lights gleaming and twinkling far below me and into the distance. I could see only the two of them: Dane and Cobalt. But I knew they weren’t alone. There were others in the darkness of the rooftop, watching us from the shadows, wanting no part of me.
Nobody spoke. Down on the street, life went on. Cars honked; people shouted. Music drifted up from the clubs. But it was still on the roof. I couldn’t talk—too freaked out by the seemingly instant trip. They just stared down at me like I was some kind of new bug. Dane’s eyes were blank, expressionless, but Cobalt’s burned with fury. They both seemed very beautiful and alien to me just then. I realized I was actually looking at them for the first time. The facts became very clear to me, and I gasped out loud as the realization struck home, as if I had just now come out of some drug fog. They were a completely different race of creature, man-shaped. I’d seen the “true-faces” of ‘bloods before, but the reality never hit me like this. They were not human. They were the most inhuman species you could think of. When I came across a ’breed for the very first time, I didn’t think about were they human or not; my only thought was How do I cash in on this? How do I make a buck?
I was still panting, but I turned away from them, from their beautiful frightening faces, and looked down over the edge of the building, seeing the streets so far away, and the city all at once. And then my situation became that much more real. I was having a true moment of clarity here. And I didn’t like what I was seeing. “Listen,” I gasped, pleading, still on my knees, all ready to beg. “You gotta help me, Dane,” I turned and looked up at them. What’s the word? Beseechingly. “Cobalt, you know me. I don’t pass bad blood. Please, they’re coming for me.”
“Can’t help you, Stivic,” Dane said simply and without emotion.
“It was an accident, Dane. I swear to Christ! You gotta believe me. I mean, it was like bad karma, you know? You say I don’t pass bad blood, then what happens? I get a bad batch without knowing it, I mean, I didn’t know, you know? I mean, how could I know?” I was talking fast. Not a grifter rap, but the panicked stream of words. Desperation pouring out.
“It was filth.” Cobalt’s voice, hard, cold. “You should have staked them out in the sun. It would have been kinder.”
“It was bad luck,” I insisted, not hearing her. “I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to hurt them!”
“Don’t!” Cobalt spat, bringing her face dangerously close to mine. She seized my lapels and yanked me up on my knees. “Don’t even think it! You didn’t care about any of them! They were weak, and you wanted their money! You preyed on them! You could have helped them.”
I was getting mad, now. I was running out of time and resented having to defend myself. “Hey, Cobalt. Don’t lay that trip on me. You should have gotten to them the minute they turned ‘breed. I was the only thing keeping them alive.”
She started to answer back with a snarl and a closed fist, but Dane stepped in.
“We told you, Stivic, we’re through with you. You coulda gone seven different ways with those ‘breeds, including staying out of their lives altogether. But you played your sick dealer games and now you gotta pay for them.”
He turned away, started to walk towards the shadows. Cobalt dropped me and went to follow. I was on my hands and knees, scrabbling after them. “Look, wait—” I grabbed Dane’s hand, begging. “I’ll make it right. I swear. Put the bite on me, I’ll make up for everything. Everything. Just give me another chance, please. I know them. All the new ones. You’ll never find them all. There’s too many. They’re sick, Dane. Dying. Please, I’m begging you, Dane, please. Make me! Don’t let Barlow kill me, please.”
He shook me off and kept walking, but I couldn’t stop myself. “You don’t even have to make me. Just take me in. Just till the heat’s off. I’ll take you to every ‘breed, man. Every one. I’ll never deal again. And I’ll give back. They can tap me if they need to. Look, look, you can see it, can’t you? I’ll do anything you want, Dane, just don’t leave me to them!”
They stopped and looked down at me like I was nothing. A worm. Then, all of a sudden, we were the only ones on that roof. The others, the ones who couldn’t be bothered to show themselves to a worthless lifer, they were all gone. I couldn’t feel them in the shadows, on the back of my neck. Just the three of us now. I looked up, willing to promise my soul to Dane. “Please,” I whispered, too hoarse now to raise my voice.
Then they were gone, too.
I was too scared to cry, too tired to run. My knees gave out and I slumped over, dragged myself the few feet back to the wall, crammed myself into a dark corner of the ledge. Behind me and below me, Barlow and his friends were looking for me. And they’d find me, no matter where I hid, and whether Dane told them where I was or they looked for me themselves. I wasn’t even good as food to them. This was a vengeance game. I was marked, a dog to be hunted down. I sat and stared into the shadows and waited.
I didn’t have to wait long. I couldn’t see them, any more than I could see Dane’s companions when they were there. But I knew they were there, and I’d see them soon enough, though I did not want to. They were definitely there, in the shadows, watching me. They’d come for me slow, and hurt me slow.
They were going to have me for dinner and never touch a drop.