Kelly opened her eyes and she saw a hospital room. She looked at the IV bag. She recalled feeling like she would perish somehow, but she couldn’t recall why she was so afraid. Kelly rang for the nurse. The white walls and machines with tubes streaming out made her nervous. She hated hospitals. The ammonia smell and the starchy pillow were the least of her problems as she felt a sharp pain in her neck. Her hand trembled as she touched the bandage.
A stout woman with dark hair knocked on her door. “You’re awake.”
“Yes, but I don’t know what happened. Why am I here?”
The nurse took her blood pressure. The squeezing of her arm made her nervous.
“Don't you remember the attack? You're the only survivor.”
“No, I don't remember anything. All I can recall is that I went with my sister to the bar and then took a cab home.”
“Ms. Harper, you were slashed with a razor on your right carotid artery and right internal jugular vein. You're lucky to be alive. It was a precise nick and had you not been rushed here, you would have bled to death. It was touch-and-go for a while. You're type O blood, and we had to scramble to get you enough blood so fast,” the nurse said.
“How long have I been here?” Kelly asked.
“Two days. You were unconscious when the gentleman brought you to the hospital.”
“Wait a minute, tell me again?”
“Your friend. He stayed with you for hours before he left. I assumed...is he your boyfriend?”
“No, I just met him.”
“He carried you into the emergency room. The police showed up to interview him, and he gave a statement. He was the reason you survived -- the fact that he got you to us so quickly. I don’t know how he did it, maybe he had an adrenaline rush or something to be strong enough to carry you. Five people died in the attack. The police think it was ritualistic slayings.”
“Devil worship?”
“Something like it.”
“And I'm the only survivor?” Kelly asked.
“Yes. I'm sure the police will want to talk to you about what you know.”
“I can't remember anything.”
***
Amwolf Van Horn pulled the shades of the one room studio apartment. Sirens echoed through the alley. The studio apartment had a brick wall that highlighted the old building’s past. A bike was parked between the television and the couch. The hour was very late, and the breaking daylight was completely blocked by the room darkening shade.
Sigman Van Horn pulled the beds down from the wall. He stretched and yawned.
“I'm beat. I think I could sleep for at least a week,” Sigman said. He lay on his twin bed as his brother sat down on the other. “I wish the apartment was larger. I miss my coffin.”
“It would never fit in the apartment...the bed isn't so bad,” Amwolf said.
“It's just so open. I miss the comfort of a confined space. I barely sleep,” Sigman said.
“I hear you snoring. You must be getting some sleep,” Amwolf said. “You really messed up. We were almost cut.”
“I don't want to hear it. We got out of the alley. End of story,” Sigman said.
“How do you think that man found us?”
“He's a Draculan hunter. It happens,” Sigman said.
“He's better than the others. He got a nick on me.” Amwolf held up his left arm. A wide gash from his elbow down to his wrist had been glued together.
“So fix it.”
“I may be a doctor, but I'm also a Draculan. The wound weakened me. You'll have to bring the game here,” Amwolf said.
“Here? No. It's too dangerous.”
“Just for a couple days. You're good at it. Go to a bar meet a girl, bring her back.”
"It isn't easy to turn on the charm all the time.”
"Oh, come now. You're a New Yorker at heart. You ooze charm and sophistication. Remember, I think it was '02.”
"No, 1903. Those were the nights! Too bad Mommy and Dad moved there,” Sigman said.
“Well, they had no choice.”
“Those locals have no idea how much our family did for them. All the charity organizations Mom chaired...well, before Dad turned her into a Draculan,” Sigman said.
“And he was lucky to find her. Out of five hundred and seventy wives, only Mom gave him an heir,” Amwolf said.
“Twins. Why don't we have more brothers and sisters?”
“As I've explained before a hundred times only you don't listen.” Amwolf smacked Sigman on the head.
“Stop it,” Sigman said as he touched his head, “that hurts.”
“Only type O blood born under a full moon can give Draculans heirs.”
“I thought that was just a myth.”
"It's not I'm afraid. My poor, simple brother," Amwolf said.
"Well, now that the parents are living in my apartment, it's not fun anymore. Mom has such outdated ideas about women. She thinks we should settle down and get a few hundred wives – all for her to be a grandmother! I wish she'd have stayed in Romania.”
“Sigman! Shame! Our mother is only looking out for your best interest. You tend to want it all. Settling down wouldn't kill you. Maybe you'd stop all that partying. I mean remember all the girls in Vegas? It was well over a hundred. That was quite the binge.”
“I was humiliated when she sent Dad after me. And the fact that he cut off the money...I won't forgive them.”
Amwolf said, "Stop being so selfish, they had to get out of Romania. Poor Mom and Dad woke up inflamed with a stake through their hearts.”
“It was my apartment!” Sigman said.
“They paid for it. You should have made something of yourself. Now you're a washed-up actor.”
“I'm not washed up. I'm between gigs,” Sigman added.
“Please! You can't go out in the daytime. You weren't seriously an actor.”
“I would bleed for the theatre!”
“Well, that Draculan Hunter took a pint of mine last night. I must stay indoors. Will you get me a few girls, or guys, and bring them here? Remember how I took you in after Dad kicked you out. I do too much for you,” Amwolf said.
“Thank you.”
“Dad shouldn't have kicked me out.”
“You're not a child anymore, you are six hundred and ninety-six years old,” Amwolf said.
“Do you think they'll trace that attack to us? Which hospital is that girl in?”
“Temple.”
“What if...”
“No, way. It's too dangerous if I admit you. I need to work. It keeps us afloat and you'd go nuts with all that blood at the hospital. You have no self-control. The girl doesn't remember anything. Maybe you should go to bars outside the city to get the cops off our backs.”
“Or maybe we should fly to Texas for a few weeks. I love all those spunky gals! And it's college football season. Those cheerleaders!” Sigman rubbed his hands together.
“Next week, when I recover. We can go then. But no binge drinking. Promise?”
“You have my word.”
“Until then, maybe we should stick to the homeless?”
“No, I'm not eating fast food! You should know what that does to us. I just worked too hard on my body to get it trim to pack on the weight by eating--”
“Now now! You can pick up prostitutes then.”
“Please, we can't be at that point yet.”
“We are, thanks to that hunter.”
“I'm going to enjoy taking him out.”
“No, we're playing it smart. Lay low. He's the best hunter I've seen in three hundred years. Remember, if you draw attention to yourself, you'll have to find another place to crash. Understand?”
“Yes, Amwolf.”