The walk to the fast food place was uneventful. It was just after seven when he carried his food to a corner table. Michael appeared a few minutes later, hands in his jacket pockets, hood pulled up to conceal his face. He took a seat across from Patrick and the brothers stared at one another.
He doesn't look right, Patrick told himself. Something's wrong with him.
"I'm a vampire."
There's no such thing as vampires.
Michael cleared his throat. "How's your arm?"
Patrick's attention moved to his fries. They were more comfortable to look at; more familiar. "Eh, it's a'right."
"Look, I'm sorry about the other night, okay? You just pissed me off so bad!"
"Forget it." Patrick hazarded a glance at his brother and as quickly looked to his half eaten burger. Those long pointed teeth were still there. "So where the hell have you been?"
"I told you, with Claudius and his coven."
Patrick sighed. This was pointless. It's the same s**t all over again. "And who the f**k is Claudius?"
"He's that d**k I mowed the yard for, remember? Owns that huge mansion?"
The rich dude Patrick thought was a fictional cover for a drug dealer. "Yeah, I remember. The master dude, or whatever, that you wanted to rob."
"Yeah, that's him." Michael rubbed the back of his neck. "I found them all sleeping in the basement in their coffinscoffins, man! They're all vampires; him, that prick Troy, the hot chicks. I told Claudius if he didn't give me money I'd tell everyone their secret." he trailed off and spread his hands. "So they made me one of them."
God, he's f*****g nuts. Patrick didn't want to admit it, but there was nothing he could do. Michael needed to detox and see a shrink. A really, really good shrink. Maybe he had brain damage. Or maybe Claudius brain washed him. Either way, the best thing he could do was get the hell out of there before something happened.
Michael stared longingly at the half eaten food. "You gonna finish that?"
"Nah, you can have it." Patrick pushed it toward him, but Michael shoved it back.
"I can't eat food anymore." His voice dropped to a whisper, "Just blood."
That was it. "I hate to bug out on you, but I gotta get up tomorrow and look for a job. It's a long walk home. I better get going." Patrick stood quickly and fumbled with the tray. "I'll, uh, I'll see you soon, huh?"
Michael stood too quickly; one minute he was in the chair and the next he was standing beside Patrick, the tray in his hand. "I'll walk with ya. You have no idea what's roaming around out there, man."
A shiver raced down Patrick's spine. I'm not afraid of what's out there, just what's in here.
***
Tiny snowflakes drifted from the heavy black sky. The moist air turned the streetlights to bloated globes of light that did little to illuminate the dark streets. Patrick walked at a brisk pace, his eyes on his brother. Michael chatted continually about his "coven"; about the other vampires, about some hotty named Arowenia. "She's beautiful, man, but she's like fourteen or fifteen. I mean, she was. Now she's like hundreds of years old. So is it sick to check her out? Is it p********a, or is it a granny fetish?"
Patrick's answers were monosyllable grunts. He clutched his coat to him, like a shield against the lunacy.
They turned down a narrow street, when a man materialized in front of them.
"Holy s**t!" Patrick leapt back. The man was tall, with long ebony hair, and dark eyes. Dressed all in black, he was like a piece of the night made flesh.
Michael bristled, his lips drawn back from his impossibly pointed teeth. "Who the hell are you?"
The man surveyed them and Patrick couldn't move. He felt trapped, pinned down. It was as if the guy was staring through his eyes and into the back of his skull. Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead and his watery knees quivered.
When the man broke eye contact, Patrick sagged. He stumbled and caught himself. His heart pounded in his ears. There was something about this guy that said he'd kill them and not lose any sleep over it. All of Patrick's instincts told him to run; run now.
The man studied Michael a moment. "An interesting question. More importantly, who are you?"
"Like that's any of your business."
Patrick gaped at his brother's attitude. Was he trying to get them killed?
"You're with Claudius," the man stated matter of fact. The kind of fact that made Michael's delusions a little more plausible.
Michael glared back. "And you're not."
"No, I'm not. And you wish you weren't."
Patrick stirred. "How do you know that?"
Michael met the man's eyes and commented coldly, "You must think you're a mind reader."
"I am." And that's when the man smiled. It was a slow full smile, not particularly evil, though not kind. It wasn't the smile itself that made Patrick's heart stop, it was the teeth. Like Michael, he had sharp pointed fangs.
Oh f**k.
The smile disappeared. The man met Michael's eyes and held them. Patrick got the impression he was trying to determine if they were useful. His decision apparently reached, he said, "Perhaps we'll meet again." Then, he seemed to disappear back into the darkness.
It was a full minute before Patrick could breathe. "Who the f**k was that?"
"I don't know. Another vampire." Michael glanced at his brother. "I told you, there's all kinds of scary s**t running around here."
You're not kidding.
***
Michael left Patrick at the door to his building. One moment he was there and the next he was down the sidewalk. Patrick's stomach lurched, and he ran up the stairs two at a time. When he slammed the door, his chest heaved with his terrified breaths.
What the f**k is going on?
He peeled off his coat and flopped on the couch. His cell phone jabbed him in the side and he fished it out of his pocket. The voice mail icon blinked, but he knew who it was: his mother.
Talking to her seemed like a good idea a sane idea in a sea of lunacy.
Her first words weren't calming, "Where the hell have you been?"
He groaned silently. "I've been home, where the hell else would I be?"
"I don't know. You haven't returned my calls, or answered your door. Your brother's looking for you. I gave him your address and your phone number, but he said you never answer him, either. Did you even know he's back?"
Of course that was what she wanted. "Yeah, I talked to him tonight."
"Did he tell you where he's been?"
Patrick rubbed his temple with his free hand. How could he repeat the ridiculous story? No matter how true it might have felt earlier. "Didn't he tell you?"
"He gave me some bullshit about being hired full time by the rich guy who owns the mansion in the middle of nowhere, and said they went to his 'other house'. Then he told me not to call him unless it was an emergency because he'd 'get in trouble'. What sense does that make?"
"Not a lot." Or did it? If he was really living with Claudius and a coven of vampires.
Vampires.
After their walk home, Patrick couldn't reconcile what he'd seen and felt with the reality he knew. One of them was wrong. Either there were monsters or there weren't. Unfortunately, he was starting to think the monsters were real and everything he'd known up to then was the illusion.
It was a terrifying idea.
"Hello? Pat, are you still there?"
He jerked away from his thoughts. "Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Hey, they hiring at Lorden's?"
"Why? Did you lose your job already? Dammit, Pat."
He couldn't stand the condemnation in her voice. "No. I was looking for more money."
There was a pause, then, "Oh, I'm sorry, honey. But no. They just laid off. I've got enough seniority that I'm safe, but there's talk about another round."
Just his luck. "Okay. Hey, I gotta go. I don't feel so good."
It took two more tries to get rid of her, and the bottle of whisky was open before he hung up. The amber liquid burned his throat and turned his stomach, but he knew the next drink would be better.
If only I could drink enough to make this seem sane.