Page 4

CHAPTER TWO

HARLEN

The highway stretched out for miles before us.

There seemed to be more semi-trailer trucks sharing the road with us than passenger cars.

My hands gripped the steering wheel like never before.

I was immortal, but Morgan was far from it.

I’d never thought about dying in a car accident until today.

I wouldn’t be the one to die. Knowing my driving and the driving of others could affect Morgan made her mortality ever-present in my mind.

I found myself scanning the road for debris and discarded tires. I was on guard for any deer and small animals trying to cross the lanes. I looked for anything that could be a hazard. Morgan was sad. She didn’t want to leave her friend. She sat next to me in silence.

Three hours into our journey north, and we’ve barely spoken. The radio played music neither of us was listening to. I could hear Morgan’s stomach growling, though she hadn’t mentioned it. After stopping for gas in southern Michigan, I was relieved when she finally started talking to me.

“I need to eat something.” She finally announced when there was a lull in our conversation.

I glanced at her, then back at the empty road. “We should keep driving. Zand said?—”

“I don’t care what Zand said.” Her tone wasn’t angry, just matter of fact. “I’m human, remember? I need food, bathroom breaks, all that inconvenient shit that you don’t need.”

She had a point, though I hated to admit it. I’d been so focused on getting her to safety that I forgot about her basic human needs. It had been a while since I had to think about such things.

I remembered a sign I saw a few miles back. “There’s a diner at the next exit.” I flicked on the turn signal, though there was no one behind us to signal to.

The 24-hour diner sign glowed in the darkness.

I pulled into the nearly empty parking lot.

I parked the Jeep as close to the entrance as possible, positioning it for a quick exit.

Not because we were in danger, but because I could see how exhausted Morgan was.

Some humans got tired after eating and she was already exhausted.

Morgan raised her arms up in the air and stretched when she exited the Jeep. We walked inside the diner that smelled of burnt coffee and cooking oil.

This wasn’t the type of place with a hostess that greeted you at the door.

I searched the place and led Morgan to the corner.

Morgan slid into a vinyl booth that had seen better days.

The red covering was cracked and patched with duct tape that was a few shades off.

I sat across from Morgan, positioning myself to face the front door. No reason, just a habit.

While waiting, I noticed two truckers occupying stools at the counter and an elderly couple sitting silently in a booth by the window. Soon, an older waitress in a headscarf and with faded tattoos on her forearms came toward us.

The waitress approached us with laminated menus.

“I’m Peggy, your server. Just take a look at the menu and I’ll be right back to take your order.” She placed the two greasy menus on the table and walked away.

There wasn’t much to choose from on the menu. Morgan retrieved hand sanitizer from her purse before she would even open the trifold menu. Little things like that made me like her. I more than liked her, but I wasn’t willing to admit that yet.

When Peggy returned minutes later, Morgan ordered. “Cheeseburger, no onions, fries, and a diet coke.”

“We only have regular coke.” Peggy said with a sound of disinterest and the voice of a two-pack a day smoker.

“Okay, regular coke.”

“What size?” Peggy asked.

“Uh, uh, medium.” Morgan stuttered.

“Anything for you, hon?” The waitress asked me, pen poised over her notepad.

“Just coffee, black,” I replied, knowing I wouldn’t drink it, but I needed to appear normal.

Morgan raised an eyebrow after the waitress walked away. “You should at least pretend to eat something. You look suspicious as hell just watching me eat.”

I leaned back against the cracked vinyl. “Sorry, I forgot the human instruction manual where it says I need to pretend to eat disgusting diner food at almost one in the morning.”

She laughed at that, a genuine sound that brightened her face. I loved she could still laugh at a time like this.

“You’re actually funny sometimes. You know that?” She said, unwrapping her silverware from the paper napkin and inspecting its cleanliness.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. We’ve only been on one date.”

“Harlen, I know you not calling that fiasco at Club Bailar Caliente a date?”

“I am. I’m going to call this greasy diner date two.”

“Okay, I guess. Tell me something I don’t know about you.” She leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. “We’ve got time. Entertain me with tales of your long, boring undead life.”

I hesitated. I was uncertain how much to reveal. Most of my existence wasn’t grand. My life as a vampire was sort of dull.

“I don’t even know where to start.” I said, trying to think up the past.

“Start with before you were turned, or made. I don’t know what you guys call it. When did this even happen to you?”

“It happened in 1984. I’ve been ah, ya know, a Dracula, for a few decades but I’m not old and ancient. The 80s. Those were the good ole days. I used to be in a hair band.”

“What’s a hair band?”

“A rock band basically, but we all had long, big hair and wore makeup.”

“Oh god. You’re not joking. I have to see the pictures.”

“I burned the pictures.” I lied. I had a few photos back in L.A. tucked away in a safe place.

“I don’t believe you. I know you have pics.”

“Maybe.” I grinned. I was so happy she asked about my life and even happier to share something from my past with her. “

“What was the name of this rock band?”

I shook my head. I couldn’t believe I was going to share this information with her. “We had a stupid name.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“We called ourselves the Rock It Boys.”

“Ah, okay. You’re serious. I don’t love it, but I don’t hate it. What instrument did you play? Let me guess, the tambourine.”

“You really think you’re funny. I did not play the tambourine. I played a little guitar, and I was the lead singer. Me and the drummer wrote the songs.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing really. We played a few dive bars.”

“Why’d you stop? What happened to the Rock It Boys?”

“We weren’t that good, and we didn’t make any money or land a record deal. We all had to get real jobs after a while. Then the keyboard player got arrested for solicitation of a minor. The bass player got married and had a kid. The drummer got in a car wreck and died.”

“Jesus, that was sort of depressing. When did the vampire thing happen?” She asked.

It felt strange talking about being turned, but I kept talking, regardless.

“I was a thirty-two-year-old forklift operator at an office supply warehouse. On Friday nights, I would drive about six or seven towns over and play guitar and sing at this open mic. I don’t know why.

I just wanted to perform just to— I don’t know, get the songs out, or just relive the old times.

One night, there were these two guys with money that came into the bar.

We got to talking and drinking. Then we went to another bar, and they convinced these ladies to come back to their house and party.

We did coke and swam naked in the pool. Partied until dawn.

Gillian, the older guy, was my maker, and the younger?—”

I stopped talking when I saw Peggy walking toward us. Morgan’s food arrived, piled high on a white ceramic plate. Morgan dove in, taking a massive bite of her burger. I watched, oddly fascinated by her enjoyment of something as simple as a cheeseburger.

“God, this is good. Or I am starving.” She mumbled through a mouthful of processed beef.

“I think you were starving.”

Morgan popped a French fry in her mouth. “Must be weird, watching people eat all the time.”

“Not anymore. I got used to it.”

“I don’t think I could ever get used to drinking blood.” Morgan’s delicate faced morphed into a frown. “What happens if you don’t drink it?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t know any vamp that starved themselves. There are human blood bags walking around everywhere. Why would we deprive ourselves of the one thing we crave?”

Morgan stopped chewing to gaze at me. “Where are you getting blood from?”

“Zand has it stockpiled.”

“Where does he get it from?”

“A blood bank. He owns one. He’s not the only vampire that owns one. Zand gives some of the blood to local hospitals, so it doesn’t look suspicious. He only keeps enough of the blood to feed a few of us regularly.”

“The blood doesn’t have to be fresh?” Morgan asked.

“No, we can live off the donated blood. We don’t have to drink it fresh from humans. Which means we don’t have to kill.”

“What about animal blood?”

“Yes, we can drink it. It just doesn’t taste the same. Maybe the difference between a Diet Coke and a regular Coke. I’m curious. Why now do you have so many questions?”

“Because I never got the chance to ask you anything, really.” She paused. “Harlen.”

“Morgan.”

“Have you ever drunk my blood?” She asked.

“What do you mean?” I was never the smartest, but I really didn’t understand the question.

“Just what I said. Have you ever drunk my blood?”

“No, how would I do that?”

“I don’t know. You tell me?” She was serious.

“Morgan, you’re the one that asked to see my fangs.”

“I know, but I was thinking about it. And how do I know you haven’t been stealing blood from me while I slept in bed next to you?”

“What?” I laughed out loud. “You know it because it never happened. I wouldn’t bite you without your consent.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t do things like that anymore. Since I hurt my brother, I’ve been trying to change. I’m not perfect, but I’m what they call a work in progress.”

“You swear you have never bitten me?”

“I swear.” I didn’t know who I was swearing to, but I had to plead my case.

“You would know if a vampire bit you. It would hurt. The fangs would leave a mark and sometimes a bruise. Depending on how much blood the vamp took from you. And you would feel tired from the blood loss, and you could faint. Tired from sex wasn’t the same as tired from blood loss. I’ve only made you tired from sex.”

“Okay, okay, I believe you. It’s just all of you look so normal.”

“And not like monsters?”

“Well, yeah.”

“We can behave like monsters, and some of us do. Most of us try and succeed at acting civilized.” I explained.

“Okay. It’s just weird. All of it.”

“You think I’m weird?”

“No.”

“Why did you continue to have sex with me if you had all these questions and doubts?”

“I don’t know.”

“You asked to see my fangs, and you asked me to bite you the next time we had, you know, sex. What’s going on with you?”

“I don’t have a good answer. My boyfriend died.

Then I find out he was murdered. I have sex with you.

Then I find out vampires exist, and my best friend is dating one.

And then I find out you’re one of them. Everything is happening so fast. It’s not like I had time to figure out what I was doing. I’m overwhelmed.”

“Do you want Zand to replace me with a human— for your protection?”

“No, I don’t want to replace you. I want to keep you.”

“I want to keep you, too.”

Morgan shrugged once. “It’s settled. I’m keeping you. You haven’t tried to hurt me.”

“Morgan, I would never hurt you, ever.”

“What if the earth’s blood supply gets depleted and me and you are the only ones left on earth?”

“What? I still wouldn’t hurt you. I would still ask for your consent. Please, woman, eat.”

The absurdity of the conversation stopped, and Morgan finished her meal. I noticed her eyelids growing heavy. The adrenaline that kept her going was fading fast.

“We should get back on the road.” I said gently. “Cheboygan isn’t that far away.”

She nodded, stifling a yawn. I paid the waitress in cash, and we headed back to the Jeep.

We arrived just after 2 AM. Zand’s condo sat at the edge of a small resort town, near Duncan Bay. The high-rise building stood tall against the moonlit night. Perfect for hiding out in an obscure community.

I pulled up to the front entrance, where the security lights illuminated the circular drive.

“I can let you out here and I’ll go park in the garage.” I told Morgan. I was sure she wanted to get upstairs as soon as she could.

“Okay, I can’t wait to lay down. I’m so tired.”

“It’s the twentieth floor. The elevator needs a key card.” I handed her a small plastic card with a large letters Z, and V, embossed on it along with the numbers 2112. “I’ll bring up all your bags.”

She hesitated while her hand rested on the door handle. “Can you carry everything by yourself?”

“Morgan, I’m a vampire.” I whispered it out the car door like it was a secret.

“Oh shit. I forgot.” She chuckled through her tiredness.

“Go on up. I’ll be right behind you.”

Morgan took the key card and her purse. I watched her walk through the glass doors into the lobby, and past the front desk. My eyes didn’t leave her until she stepped safely into the elevator.

I pulled around to the underground garage, finding the reserved spot marked with Zand’s number. I parked in spot 2112 and I cut the engine off. I gathered Morgan’s luggage from the back, along with my lone bag. More alone time with Morgan made me happy, and it also made my cock hard.

Locking the Jeep doors with the key fob, I headed toward the elevators.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

I blamed it on my paranoia. This was the first time I was solely responsible for a person, and this person was human.

Morgan wasn’t just any human. She was a human that I cared about and loved.

I would have to be drained of all my blood before I admitted this weakness for a human out loud.

Pretending that I wasn’t in love with her was getting harder to conceal.

But I knew I could do it. I had faced bigger challenges in all my years, human and vampire.