The day after their encounter with the vampire, Anthony felt a little off, but blew it off as stress. Stress, like learning that not only do vampires exist, but they are more than happy to kill without a second thought. He’d gone to sleep that night feeling like his skin, especially his scalp and his neck, were crawling, but he woke feeling nothing but a vague nausea. When he peeled the bandages from his face and neck it was to find the skin already closed and the marks from the vampire’s attack barely visible.

When the light filtering in through the blinds started to give him a headache, he figured it was another of his migraines and called out from work. Taking some of his medication, he drew the curtains in the bedroom and went to sleep with the cat curled up warm beside him instead of Bri.

And then he woke again. He had no idea what time it was, but it was dark outside. His blood was on fire. It was as if he was boiling from the inside out, but at the same time, when he tossed aside the covers, he started shivering so badly that he had to scramble after them. He curled under the covers, in agony from the migraine and the fever. When the big Maine Coon sniffed at him and he could hear her heartbeat echoing in his head as if it was trying to shatter him, he knew something was wrong. His stomach cramped, and his moan of pain scared her away.

When Brianna got home from work later that night, it was to find Anthony curled on the kitchen floor with the refrigerator door wide open and the contents ransacked. The stew meat she’d been saving for soup had been ripped open, but he’d vomited up most of what he ate. The water was running, and the vomit in the sink was mixed with blood. Her gasp woke him up, and she had to stifle a startled scream when she saw his eyes. Bright red, glinting faintly in the light from the refrigerator. When he coughed, she could see long fangs.

He moaned. “Bri? Jesus, Bri, I don’t feel right.” It sounded like him, and for a moment she almost rushed to him, fangs or no fangs, but then his eyes locked on her and she stood stock still. “So hungry, Bri. What’s going on?” His voice sounded unsure, but his eyes had lost everything that made them human. He tensed, and she could feel her pulse begin to race. His nose flared, and he cocked his head as if he could hear it.

She bit her lip and took a deep breath. She wanted to tell him. She wanted to help him. But with him looking at her like that, all she could do was back away. “I don’t know, baby. But I’m going to find someone who does. Stay here, okay?”

He shook his head, as if clearing it, and settled back down to the kitchen floor, moaning. “Yeah, okay. Hurry up, Bri baby? God, this is gonna kill me.”

She blinked away tears as she backed away, only daring to turn her back when she was within reach of the door. She locked the apartment door behind her and ran to her car.

She needed her grandfather.

Adrien’s fangs grazed Anthony’s neck, but before he could lick away the blood that welled to the surface, Brianna swung one of the broken chair legs at his head. The vampire was suddenly gone, like a nightmare, and Anthony crumpled to the ground.

Brianna rushed to his side. The vampire had been holding him by his braids, and in a few places, his scalp bled where they’d been pulled far too much. The wound on his neck was small by comparison, just two small pin pricks. There were drops of blood across his face, from his hair, she thought. His skin was clammy and pale, his breathing shallow. He was unconscious, but his muscles twitched, as if he was trying to wake up. “Come on, baby, wake up. I need you to wake up. You know I can’t carry you back down those stairs.”

Anthony coughed and licked his lips, licking away one of the drops of blood. “Goddamn. Knew we shoulda just gone with delivery and a movie.” With her help, he pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. The world swam as he moved, but the vertigo was fading fast, and after a moment or two, he was able to stand on his own. As they headed for the stairs, Brianna missed the faint flush of red in his eyes.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Adrien swiped at his forehead as he hurried away from the building. When his hand came away wet with blood, he snarled. The bitch was good, he had to admit. A lot of raw talent to be honed, in the right hands.

He couldn’t wait to kill her.

“Look, this isn’t a battle of good and evil, here. Well, not the Good and Evil.” He was shaky, pacing, a mouse with a cigarette and a lighter. “These are people. Just like you and me. Well, not really like you and me. They’re backwards, see? Born greedy, self absorbed. Nothing human at all. Then life happens an’ they got a choice. Embrace the evil or, ah…”

"Or what? They choose to be monsters?”

“Or live their lives like everyone else, I guess. I guess I really haven’t seen one of them…you know, actually do that.”

Brianna Wilson is 25. She grew up in south Georgia in the city of Valdosta. Her father was a pipe fitter and her mother was a waitress. She was considered lower middle class growing up. Her family had a house out near the Air Force base, and many of her childhood friends were the children of fighter pilots.

She wanted out of Georgia, and when she went to college, she went to live with an aunt in Florida and attended the University of South Florida. She double majored in journalism and business. She interned with a few different companies in Tampa while she was in school, and once she was out, she got a job with the Tampa Tribune. She’s been with the Tampa Tribune for two years and she’s now being given assignments of her own.

She’s due to take a vacation soon, to visit her grandfather in France. He’s a caretaker for an old castle in Moulins, and the family is worried because he’s fallen more silent than usual. They suspect he may be developing dementia, as his last letter to them was very strange. She’s promised to check on him and help to get him set up to move to the US if he’s not well.

She’s looking forward to some much needed time off, though. Time she’s not going to have.