From the outside it might’ve looked like nothing had changed, except that Arthur had larger bags under his eyes nowadays. He still worked his detective job regularly during the day, but mostly felt distant and unconcerned about the things that happened during it. Dot even made a comment how he’d become so hollow after not even reacting to yet another gruesome crime scene. It wasn’t that Arthur wasn’t reacting, it was that he was so tired he barely even registered it. Because he was spending most of his remaining energy during the nights with the Soldado’s. The nights were short, only a few hours long typically, but running around eighteen hours a day and getting restless sleep was starting to take it’s toll. Besides his physical and emotional state, there was now a strange, underlying feeling about everything. Walking around the streets like he always did now came with a level of discomfort. Who was really human? Who wasn’t? Was someone planning on feeding from him if he wasn’t paying attention. It was like suddenly everything had become a lot less comfortable. Which was saying a lot, considering Arthur had to deal with murderers, thieves, and rapists regularly. Those guys didn’t seem that scary anymore.

  Now, there was something much more dangerous to look out for. Saint had given Arthur a lot of good information. Although not in any formal capacity. Mostly in the form of randomly made statements, questions, and other little instances here and there that gave insight into their world. Apparently a lot of the urban myths were actually true. Most were not. The sun was one of the true ones. It didn’t turn them to dust, but according to Saint if you left a vampire out in the sun he’d cook fast, regardless of how hot or what the exposure was like. It’d be like getting a sunburn within seconds, and within ten minutes you’d be fried to a crisp. Silver held sort of the same properties. Stabbing a vampire with a knife might not do a lot, considering their flesh was dead and lifeless. Stabbing a vampire with a silver knife was like the equivalent of shooting one with a gun. And shooting one with silver bullets was apparently enough to put one on the ground for a good while. On the other hand, garlic was useless, reciting the Hail Mary and wielding a cross did nothing, and running water was a joke.

  The most important thing Arthur learned, was that unless you had a really, really big gun, a vampire could shrug off most bullets. Like the one from his nine millimeter. They were dead, technically, and apparently had some kind of long-form regeneration. So instead of carrying a 10gauge elephant killer, it was better to carry around a stake. Apparently being staked did still kill a vampire, or at least make them comatose if you managed to hit them in the heart.

  Beyond the top ten ways to put a vampire in the dirt for good, it became apparent to Arthur that vampiric society was multi-layered and complex the more he learned about them. There was a strict political hierarchy in most places that was run by some secret cabal of vampires. Some people didn’t much care for the hierarchy, but generally speaking it was apparently the best way to survive night to night without silver stake wielding maniacs trying to run you down. There were tons of terms, people, titles, and even places that were so vampire-centric that if you accidentally walked in at the wrong time you might end up on the floor with two sharp holes in your neck.

  So on top of the strange paranoia of wondering who was and wasn’t actually human, Arthur’s regular day to day changed. Both his demeanor, trying to be a little more careful about what he said and to who. And what he carried in his pockets. Phone, keys, wallet and gun were normal. The stake he kept in his jacket pocket was not normal. Some days it felt absolutely idiotic carrying the thing around with him, but some nights he was glad he had it alongside him. Normally he wouldn’t have to worry, because the chances of someone trying to feed on him were pretty low. Even if they did, he’d likely survive and not remember it. But, per Saint’s advice, he carried the stake anyway. Better to be prepared.

  Because, according to Saint, there were many, many vampires in Longley who weren’t afraid to outright kill people. They weren’t too many, and usually didn’t last that long. Some were unable to hunt regularly for whatever reason and so when they did, couldn’t stop themselves from draining a victim dry by accident. But some of them were more organized. Like everything else in vampire society, Saint claimed they were called numerous different things. Rebels, insurgents, free riders. But they were formally known as Feral’s. Wild, dangerous and generally unkempt vampires who never seemed to go away despite how many of them got put down or died off. According to Saint, they had always been around and had never left. To Arthur it sounded like maybe someone was actually in charge of them, giving them rules and directions, but it was irrelevant. All he had to do was keep himself prepared.

  That preparation came in handy one night when they were pursuing the whereabouts of Persephone; latest word on the street was that she’d been seen working directly with the Ferals. Information was sparse and unclear, but according to information provided by the Soldado’s, it seemed that Perpsephone had started on a revenge track. Whoever she’d been working for was apparently close to her, maybe even the one who turned her. So now she was gathering her forces, which included the Ferals, with the intent of going after Bartolome. According to information they’d gathered, it wasn’t enough to start any kind of outright war, but it was enough to cause concern. It was a Sunday night and Arthur was out alone. He’d just picked up some information from Father Arlo, whose church was a sort of safe-house of Bartolome’s. Sunday nights in Longley were pretty active, despite only being a mid sized city. It meant that even after the sun had gone down, there was still foot traffic out and about.

  Arthur was leaving the church heading towards a drop off site. Saint had expanded many of Bartolome’s holdings and their foothold in the city, which meant that they were now more familiar with the local vampire scenes. Which also meant that they wanted to be in good graces with the other various, important and powerful vampire here. Oftentimes it meant doing favors for each other. One such scene was a popular night club that had been running in the city for a while now. Open only at nights, dark rooms, plenty of people drunk or drugged to a state of near-consciousness, meant easy feeding targets. Night clubs were a popular place for vampires. The idea of a place specifically designed to allow for ignorant humans to become easy targets gave Arthur a sick feeling, but Saint assured him that it was better than trying to jump someone in an alley. That, he did agree with.

  The club was less than ten minutes from the church, just outside the residential district on its own little street corner where the other plots were still being sold. You could see the club from streets away. Plastered across the top of the building was a huge red neon sign. Despite the sign being so garish, one might think based on the building’s appearance it was just a modern restaurant or maybe a stylish office space. But the sign declared differently. It shone obnoxious bright red lighting up the street corner every night, and the name of the place was a dead giveaway that this wasn’t any kind of normal establishment; Syndrome.

  Arthur hated clubs, but fortunately he was just here on business and didn’t have to stay long. Saint’s guys never tried to get him to stay, because they knew he wasn’t really part of the club. In fact, if he ever stuck around the club late, he might be on the menu. Arthur came around the back entrance where the parking lot resided. Syndrome was gaining popularity rapidly as a cool new, trendy, dark and mysterious club on the edge of town. There were stairs leading up the back way blocked off by a metal fence. The fence was left unlocked, because at the top of the stairs was a massive bouncer who looked like he was waiting for an excuse to throw somebody from the second floor. The only thing he knew for certain about this bouncer, and many others, was that apparently not all of them were vampires. Despite what he thought previously, there weren’t actually that many in the city. So being a creature of the night and owning an establishment and trying to hire vampires only was oftentimes a problem.

  The bouncer on the first floor nodded at Arthur and opened the door, then went back to smoking his cigarette and mindlessly reading through his phone. Before he was even inside, the pounding thrum of deep bass greeted Arthur like a sledgehammer to the skull. Throbbing techno music overlapped the heavy bass and the lights were cut so dim inside that everything was painted in a dark red, with thick pockets of shadows around every corner. There was a VIP section upstairs that didn’t look so occupied, and the few times Arthur had been here it never was. Usually only the in-crowd was allowed up there. But with every in-crowd, there were hanger on’s who thought they were part of the club, but they weren’t. They thought they were getting special treatment due to their God-given looks or charms. Not because they had fresh, virile blood pumping through their veins.

  The club below was packed as usual, a huge crowd of sweaty dancers fueled by alcohol and drugs, moving like one enormous hive mind to the thrumming music. Arthur was never much a club goer, but he did admit that Syndrome had a special atmosphere about it. It was like a microcosm of a sub-sect of society full of people who came here to let everything go. As Arthur was gazing out at the crowd, he felt a hand tap his shoulder. He involuntarily jumped, turning around just a little too quickly Standing next to him, seemingly having appeared out of thin air, was a woman whose name he’d come to know as Claudia. Arthur inadvertently swallowed. Not because of fear. Despite being undead monsters of the night, many established vampires chose very carefully what kinds of people they would turn into vampires. And like the world of mortals, being attractive gave you a big, big advantage.

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  Claudia was stunning. She had olive skin, jet black hair, and features that made it difficult for Arthur to speak confidently. And those eyes. At one point Arthur wondered what color they naturally were, but with all other vampires they now had a strange, orange tint that made her eyes look like they blazed a fire within. She smiled at him beneath blood red lipstick, unafraid to flash her fangs at him. Arthur had to work to compose himself.

  “I brought everything you asked for,” he said.

  Claudia made a motion like she couldn’t hear him over the loud music. Arthur repeated himself, louder. She made the same motion then beckoned him deeper into the VIP section, to her personal office. Arthur was almost certain she had heard him the first time, because according to Saint all vampires had vastly heightened senses. So it was more likely Claudia wanted this to be discreet. And, she wanted him alone to remind him that he was just a blood bag waiting to be drained. Despite her appearance, Arthur didn’t much like Claudia. Part of it was because every single time he had to do business with her, either Saint or one of the Soldado’s warned him that Claudia was a viper. Beautiful on the outside, poison on the inside. The other part was because every single time he had to visit Syndrome, she seemed to enjoy toying with him.

  As he followed her to the office, he noticed one of the tables in the VIP section giving him a look. One of Saint’s guys was there, but Arthur didn’t recognize the others. They were all looking in his direction, not very subtly. Arthur ignored them and faced forward again, having to willfully keep himself from staring as Claudia swayed in front of him, her jet black dress accentuating her figure more than Arthur liked to admit. She was like the snake and the snake charmer, which just meant trouble for Arthur. They entered her office and she closed the door behind him. Claudia motioned to the chair.

  “Something to drink?”

  Arthur kept a straight face on. A vampire asking a human that was like some sort of sick joke. Claudia did it every single time he came here.

  “No. Thanks. I have the items you asked for, all here.”

  Claudia ignored him, sitting down on the other side of the desk, lifting a glass of what looked like red win to her lips. She gingerly placed the glass back down on the desk, and slowly tapped one sharp, red nail against the desk. Arthur just waited. Everything was a game with Claudia. Every expression, action, and reaction meant something. It was like a social game of chess, except Arthur felt like he was missing half his pieces. And he also didn’t know what the goal was, besides the fact that it clearly amused Claudia to play with him.

  Eventually he cracked. “I have everything you asked for,” he repeated. “All organized. Getting the--”

  Claudia raised a hand, cutting him off. “Always business with you Arthur. Always so high strung…” she cooed. “Haven’t you ever considered…I don’t know, relaxing? Even for a night?”

  “Excuse me?”

  She rolled her eyes dramatically, “You know. Relaxing,” she enunciated the word slowly like he didn’t fully understand English. “Spending some time at the club. Meeting someone you like. Taking some time off.”

  Her nail kept tapping the table, slowly. He knew she was doing it to bother him. It did bothered him. “No. I mean, I do. Take time off. I just don’t like clubs.”

  She frowned. “Is there something wrong with my club? I’ve put oh-so much effort into making it the perfect little getaway.”

  “It’s not so perfect for people like me,” Arthur retorted.

  Claudia’s face fell flat. But then she smiled again. “You’re right. And why is that?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “Well,” she said, crossing a leg and leaning casually into her big leather chair. “You’ve been working for…them, for more than a year now, but you’re still…you know. Still human.”

  She was taunting him. He could play this game. “Why the hell would I want to be like you?”

  “Hm…” she said, studying him. “My mistake. I must’ve misjudged your intentions. You seem so…capable.”

  “I’m perfectly capable as a human.”

  “But imagine what it would be like.” Claudia stood, slowly pacing around behind him. One finger traced along his shoulder, stopping just short of the exposed skin on his neck. “Eternal life. Live forever. Accomplish so many great things. Power.”

  Arthur shook his head, trying to shrug her hand off of him. He hadn’t actually considered this at all, really. He was just trying to get along. So he didn’t have any kind of good answer to that. The only thing he did know was that Bartolome was very particularly about how he handled his people, and his property.

  “I don’t think our benefactor would like it if you did something to me without his permission.”

  Claudia stopped, standing next to him now. Someone knocked on the door, but she ignored it. She was staring at Arthur now, hard. “I never took you for the lap-dog type,” she said, voice having changed from smooth and seductive to curt, and icy. Clearly she didn’t like being threatened. Arthur took a mental note.

  “I’m only saying that for both our sake,” Arthur lied. “As much as I would…really…consider it…I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for it.”

  She stared at him for a minute. Then she smiled, and just like that was back to her original, sexy-but-murderous demeanor. Apparently flattery does sometimes work Arthur thought, although wasn’t so certain that was the case.

  She walked behind the desk and sat down again. The knocking repeated itself at the door, this time louder. “What is it?” Claudia snapped. There was no response. She sighed, “Arthur, please get the door, if you would be so lovely.”

  Arthur stood, making his way to the door. The room wasn’t that big, the other side only a few steps away. As soon as his hand turned the knob, he was back on the other side of the room before he’d realized what happened. The door had flown off its hinges with such force it was sent Arthur flying with it, crashing him into the wall on the other side of the room. He cried out in pain, hearing something crack in his torso.

  Arthur was dazed, groaning as he climbed out from underneath the door. His vision was blurry and his head spinning, but realized through the haze that he, and Claudia were being attacked. There were two other figures in the room. One was picking himself up on the ground, the other was engaged in a melee with Claudia. Arthur looked at the both of them, deciding that despite his feelings towards the woman, he should probably help her first. But as he stood, Claudia moved so fast it was like a blur. The man swung a fist, and by the time it reached where Claudia had just been, she was on his side driving a huge knife deep into his side. To Arthur’s horror, the man did not react like he should have. He grunted and staggered, swinging another fist around in a hook. It connected and sent Claudia crashing to the floor, breaking a chair behind her in the process.

  Arthur pushed himself up off the floor. The man with a knife in his oblique dragged Claudia up off the floor, the second one now having recovered from whatever had happened to him. It wasn’t exactly clear what they planned on doing, besides the fact they were probably about to hurt her very badly, or maybe even kill her. Arthur’s brain started screaming at him as he realized both these men were vampires. Neither looked particularly big or threatening, but watching him punch someone so hard they flew across the room told him everything he needed to know. Arthur finally got to his feet clasping his broken rib, and began to run. As he got close to the door, one of the goons seemed to realize for the first time he was there, turning his head. As he did so, the stake in Arthur’s hand was already coming down fast and plunged into the top of the vampires chest, where his neck met his chest. The vampire screamed out only for a second as blood gurgled from his mouth and began to seep out of the huge hole in his neck.

  The second one turned in horror at the large spike stuck in his friends throat, but before he could react Claudia had removed her knife from his side, and driven it back into his stomach, tearing flesh as she went. Arthur’s attention from the man bleeding in front of him was turned to the man now being gutted by Claudia. To Arthur’s horror, the vampire continued to function despite having a six-inch blade in his stomach and his guts starting to spill out from his now exposed innards. He swung again, but was slower, and staggering. Claudia moved again with extreme speed, just like how Persephone had done at Arthur’s apartment, and grabbed the man’s face with one hand while the other hand twisted the knife.

  “Look. At. Me.” Claudia hissed. Despite the words not being directed at him, almost instantly Arthur felt entranced. Claudia appeared even more beautiful and compelling than she normally did. She was like some sort of glossed up superstar in front of him, despite all the blood spattered across her hands and face. All the light in the room seemed to shine off her face giving her the appearance of some incredibly reflective surface. Arthur didn’t notice that the other vampire apparently was trying to resist, but after a few seconds fell into the same trance he was in. Whatever Claudia wanted, whatever she asked, or desired, Arthur felt like he had to do it. She was just too beautiful.

  “Arthur,” Claudia said calmly. “Please go figure out why the fuck the guards aren’t doing anything.” Arthur just nodded, and walked out of the room. He heard Claudia speak sweetly, and softly to the other vampire, assuring him the rest of his night was going to be very painful. Arthur, still under the trance, felt jealous. He felt jealous that he couldn’t spend more time with her, and had to go find these stupid guards. As he walked away, the trance began to fade and he started to realize the terror of what he had just witnessed. The terror of what a vampire could really do when threatened. The terror that despite he’d just watched Claudia gut a man like a fish and was apparently planning on torturing him too, with the traces of the trance still in his mind all he could think about was one thing; her