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My eyes graze the window. Through the wooden boards I can see the sun dipping beneath the skyline and ripples of pink and orange light being scattered across the clouds. I knew this was what it would take eventually. Most places won’t hire vampires and those that do want at least someone who's been around a few decades, lest they eat the customers. Half the people in this flat are strippers or prostitutes, and the other will get there in the end.
“I mean, if you’re sure, I guess you could come along.”
“Which club?”
He slicks black his long hair. “I’ve got a date at the Myrrh & Adder.”
A date,I think dully. That’s a nice way of putting what goes on in that club. “They won’t let me in there.” Swaying, I try to tuck my legs under me to get up.
“They will if you’re with me. But I honestly don’t mind bringing you something back.” He jumps to his feet, his movements so quick they’re blurry. Despite everything I feel a pang of envy – there’s nothing like the rush of fresh blood and the power it gives you. Nobody moves like a vampire.
“No, I’ll come. It’s just this once, right?”
His pained expression tells me that that's probably what he tells himself every night – just one more time before I get my life together.
We’ve been making far-fetched plans to get out of this place and rent somewhere together, just the two of us. We looked at flats and everything. Mag has a little cardboard box labeled "down payment" that never has any money in it.
“Actually,” he says thoughtfully. “Apparently, Charon’s Veil has got some kind of new product. Totally legal and worth heaps of money. Maybe they’ll let you do deliveries instead?”
“Hmm. Maybe,” I say without believing it. With shaking fingers I grasp his hand – the left one that has PAIN written across its knuckles – and try to get to my feet. Though the blood he gave me is helping, it’s not enough to fight the weakness of weeks of starvation. Helped along by Mav, I stagger through the hallway past rooms similar to the one we share, with not much more than mattresses on the floor and a few damp piles of clothes in the corners.
He waits outside the bathroom door in case I faint while I shower. I’m careful to touch as little of the filthy room as possible. The tub’s enamel has long lost its gloss, now matte and yellowed. I scrub myself as if I could scrub this whole neighborhood off me before drying myself off with a towel that is in dire need of washing.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Mav asks through the door as I put on mascara.
It’s not mine, but I’ve been watching it gather dust on the vanity for the past week, so I’m assuming whoever owned it has left, or worse. There’s a lot of turnover here.
My voice is bitter. “I’ll just check it out and see how I feel. There’s always the option of turning into a calcified mummy of pain and having Pavel throw me out into the street when I’m short on rent! Or, you know, I could off myself.”
I turn away from the mirror as I brush my teeth. I’m joking but the silence that follows my words feels heavy – we both know we’ve thought about it. Just walk out into the sun and be done with it. No more scrabbling for dregs of blood. No more hiding in the dark. Probably, nobody would even notice. This city is full of ghosts.
“Wait, was that a threat? Do I need to come in there?”
With a sigh, I open the door. My arms are so heavy, even this feels like a chore. “Still alive,” I mumble as I stumble out into the hallway. “Or rather, not dead.”
“Well aren’t you lucky!” he chuckles and helps me back to our room.
In another life I used to have a long, hot bath before going out, to get rid of the stink of deep-fryer oil seemingly infusing my very essence at the end of every shift. But there’s no way I’m soaking in whatever is stuck to this bathtub.
Back in our room, we stay awkwardly silent as I balance myself on his arm while pulling on the only clean-ish pair of jeans I could find. Our awareness of the night ahead hangs thickly between us, squashing any conversation we might have otherwise had. I’m scared but I won’t tell Mav that.
Only when I pull on a sheer blouse made from black lace does Mav say, “Who knew you cleaned up so well?” He kicks the black t-shirt lumped at my feet into my pile of dirty laundry. “Have you considered not dressing like a hobo more often?”
“Shut up.” I sway slightly and my mattress calls temptingly to me. It would be so nice to just lie down and ignore the reality of having to pay rent and feed yourself. With a determined jerk, I head for the door. I don’t want Mav to see quite how weak I am.
Outside, the sky is bleeding from purple into black. I can feel the cold air begin to seep through the cracks in the hastily barred window and wrap my arms around myself. Once upon a time I used to like autumn in Midnight City, before I spent every walk through the neighborhood scouting out nooks and crannies that might be safe to sleep in, for the eventuality of not having anywhere to stay.
My reflection doesn’t look quite right when I see myself in the cracked hallway mirror – too pale, thinner, and sharper than before I was turned. My cheeks are hauntingly hollow, eyes sunken and black, full of hunger.
It is what it is,I think as I turn away. I don’t really have the bandwidth to worry about the circles beneath my eyes right now.
Mav pulls me toward the front door with persistence. “We gotta go, or we’ll be late.”
I frown and force my shaking knees onward. Most taxi companies charge double or more to vampires – not that we could afford regular prices – and we have to avoid the busiest transport because we both know I’ll probably kill someone if they get too close. The thought of the pilgrimage we have ahead of ourselves to reach the other side of the city makes me want to lie down on the floor and curl up. Moving hurts.
As we stagger down the stairs, carefully avoiding the sticky, graffitied walls, heavy footsteps echo through the stairwell. My stomach twists, not aided by the persistent smell of ammonia.Not now.
“Ugh, fuck me…” Mav mumbles as a mountain of a man turns the corner and comes up the stairs before us. Pavel, our landlord – if you can call a dude renting out old mattresses that – is supposedly human, though I could swear he has ghoul blood in him. He’s bald and hunched but somehow still manages to stand two heads taller than Mav. His long limbs always seem bent, as if he were ready to get on all fours at any moment. His stomach bulges over his pants, pushing up his shirt in the process.
