Tess’ words slammed against my chest. I clenched my fist. I stood before the man who killed Tess. Who forced Vampirism onto me. I tried to place him at the scene, but couldn't. So much of that night was a blank space in my memory. “You killed Tess,” I told him. 

 

He laughed. That I remembered. That laugh had haunted my nightmares since. 

 

“No, detective. You got in the way before I could.” 

 

My hand twitched as I thought about my gun, “bullshit.”

 

“It's been long enough. You understand our hunger now, yes?”

 

I nodded. 

 

“Being given the gift, taken into the fold, it is— taxing for a human. The hunger upon being turned, insatiable.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Detective, you killed your wife.”

 

No. I couldn't have. I would never— I looked to Tess. 

 

She had a sorrowful look on her face. She bit her lip. I knew that look. She was thinking. Considering. “You did,” she told me, “when I learned you had forgotten, nightmares aside, I chose not to tell you. You were already hurting so much—”

 

I turned back to the vampire, “Why?” was all I could manage, the word ground to dust between gritted teeth. 

 

He answered my question with a question, “do you know what happens when a vampire feeds on a vampire? Consumes them fully? Body and soul and all that they are?”

 

I didn't answer. 

 

“I'll take your silence as ignorance,” he said, “our kind draw vitality from those we feed upon. We are steeped in it. It compounds over the centuries. When we feed on another vampire, we draw in the vitality the other has soaked in over the years.” He paused to lick his lips. Tongue caressing fangs, “a delicacy.”

 

“So I was what then?”

 

“A meal I had intended to let marinate a few years more. A seed planted and plucked from the ground all too soon. But I shall enjoy taking you in nonetheless.”

 

I seethed. Fury boiled inside. All the pain this man inflicted on me. On Tess. The trauma we had endured. All so this fucking asshole could have goddamn takeout. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

 

“No.” His voice was flat. Affectless. “Most I turn don't manage to find me before I them. When you die, you may die with the knowledge you accomplished something special.”

 

“I'll fucking kill you.”

 

The vampire shook his hand. His phalanges stretched. His nails extended. The same wicked looking claw that had killed me.

 

My hand snapped down to draw my revolver.

 

“STOP!” The vampire yelled, one clawed finger digging into Henry's neck, “move and his blood is on your hands, too.”

 

Shit. Far as I could tell, Henry was just the help, and I really didn't want any more deaths on my conscience. I had made it as far as gripping the revolver. I left it holstered, for now, but kept my hand on it. I knew first hand how fast this fuck could move. “You'd kill your own guy? Seems counter-productive.”

 

He shrugged, the motion freeing a bead of blood from Henry's neck, “thralls are replaceable. I have dozens in cities across the country.”

 

“Sounds like a shitty job.” I addressed Henry, “ever consider forming a union against this guy?”

 

Henry was silent. The vampire was not, “you still have much to learn, I see. A thrall serves willingly.”

 

“Do they? Your man there seems scared shitless. Do you even pay them?”

 

“In blood.”

 

“Wouldn't that make him a vamp, too?”

 

“Not if I don't feed on him. The exchange must be mutual. I took your blood, and gave you mine. I—”

 

I cut him off with a shot from my revolver. I hit his shoulder, and he responded by throwing Henry at me. Jesus fucking Christ, that was unexpected. All 200 pounds of the man hit me and knocked me back. He tried to pin my arms to my side. Loyal to the end, apparently. I drove my forehead into his. Thrall life didn't seem to toughen him up any, and he went limp with the blow. I pushed him off, and rolled to the side right in time for an axe head to slam into the carpet between us. Where in the fuck had that come from? I scrambled to my feet, falling backwards as I stood and tried to make distance at the same time. He twirled and flipped the axe around like a master. Felt like I was front row at a particularly deadly cirque du solei. He feinted high and I fell for it. My side was open when he changed the arc of the swing and the edge bit into my side. I managed to get my arm in the way of the handle enough that I avoided getting bisected altogether, but I felt the edge tickle my spine. He yanked the blade free. Blood fled from my body in a wave. I felt the hunger and the frenzy rise in unison as my flesh knit. I glanced at Henry. Out cold where I had dumped him. If I let myself go, I might stand a chance against the vamp. If I let myself go, I might hurt the only human in the room. Thrall or otherwise. My vision tunneled, the edges fading to red. If I was going to lose my shit to the vampirism here, the best I could do was try to aim the beast. I refocused my attention on the vampire. He flourished the axe, and my blood sprayed from it, spattering the wall. The shield and empty bracket there showed the origin of the axe. I pulled back the hammer on my revolver. I bared my fangs, and snarled. We both charged. A game of chicken without the cars. He flipped the axe into a horizontal swing. I dipped and slid. My barely healed side screamed in agony as the axe passed overhead. I pressed the barrel to his ankle and pulled the trigger. No joint, vampiric resilience or not, could withstand a shot like that. His foot detached and flipped away. Expensive loafer and all. He fell. Though he was far from out of the fight. He flailed the axe in an unaimed back hand swing. I felt the blade brush by my ear. The blade split clavicle, and scapula. My hand went limp, and my gun fell from my hand. Shit. I felt myself falling more and more under the sway of the frenzy. A voice inside pressed me on to revenge. Another voice. Softer. Distant through the roar of blood. Tess. Worry? I couldn't parse her words. Language escaped me. I stood and turned in a smooth motion. My prey was holding foot to stump. Tendrils of blood pulled the pieces together, and flesh flowed. Bone shards snapped into place. They made it to their feet when I was half a dozen strides off. He swung the axe. I lunged ahead and caught the haft under my arm. The blade harmless behind my back. I drove an elbow down on the wood. I didn't realize my mistake until it was too late. The broken point of the wood handle faced my chest unimpeded. The vampire drove the makeshift stake into my chest. They got low, and lifted me over their head by the haft. They slammed me into the ground. This was it. I couldn't move. Tess tried to move my arm to knock the stake free, but the man was leaning on it with his full weight. He leaned forward. His jaw unhinged. His bared fangs descended for my neck. 

 

A crack split the air before he could piece my flesh. He flinched back. A second crack. A third. Fourth. He was off me. Tess grabbed my hand and used it to yank the stake free. The wide eyed look I got was worth all the hurt. 

 

“How—” he asked. 

 

I retrieved my gun in my off hand, and shakily climbed to my feet. I pulled back the hammer. “The power of love and this gun I found.” I pulled the trigger. The vampire's arm was nearly blown clean off.

 

A voice from behind yelled, “Jane! Move!”

 

My attention whirled to the command. Another heartbeat had entered the space. The man thrust his remaining hand forward, finger extended. His nail pierced my chest. He pulled it free. My blood floated behind like an unraveling thread. He waved his finger, tracing a pattern with my blood in the air. He exploded into mist. A fog that trailed towards the door. I collapsed. I felt a pair of hands take my shoulders. I was rolled onto my back. Tess and Dawn both looked down on me. Dawn had a rifle slung across her back. I thought I had recognized the sound of a .45-70. 

 

“Who's compensating now?” I asked her. 

 

“Shut up.” Dawn said, “putting that in a fucking revolver is compensating. It's a perfectly reasonable rifle cartridge.”

 

I grinned. It must've been a bloody visage. The worried looks of both got worse. 

 

“Fucking Christ, Jane.” Dawn said. I felt pressure trying to hold my wounds shut. 

 

I was hungry. Famished. Ravenous. I had left a lot of blood all over the floor, and I was too out of it to try and keep my body from healing itself with blood I didn't have. 

 

“You need blood.” Dawn said. Matter of fact tone. 

 

No shit. I thought. Now get yours out of here before I lose my shit. Please. Couldn't manage to voice my concerns. 

 

“Is Tess here?”

 

I nodded. 

 

Dawn looked roughly in Tess’ general direction, “she needs blood. A lot of it. She can have it, but I need you to stop her eventually. Shape she's in, she's liable to drain me dry.” 

 

I saw Tess nod.

 

Dawn pushed a hand behind my head, and lifted me to a sitting position. My head flopped onto her shoulder. I tried to pull away. Her pulse pounded against my cheek. 

 

“Jane,” she whispered, “You're fucked up. You need blood. Take what you need.”

 

Goddamn it. She was right. I was in bad shape. I knew I needed it, but I hated how much I wanted it. My lips brushed her neck as I shifted. No shiver this time, but I did feel her hand tangle in the hair on the back of my head. I bit. I fed. I closed my eyes and let the euphoria of fresh warm blood wash over me. God fucking dammit. I had told myself I'd never feed like this again. The guilt and shame warred with desire and hunger. I was saved by Tess, who placed a hand on my shoulder. With Tess’ help I pulled myself free from Dawn's neck, pausing only long enough to run my tongue over the wounds I left. We fell apart. She was pale. Shit. Had I taken too much? She sat up and slapped her cheeks, trying to wake herself up. 

 

“Shit,” I cursed, “sorry. Are— are you—”

 

“‘Mm fine,” Dawn said, only slurring her words a little bit. “Can you stand now?”

 

“Yeah. Can you? Wait. What the fuck are you doing in St. Louis?”

 

Tess helped Dawn to her feet, “good to see you again, Tess.” She paused to make certain her balance was settled before she looked into my eyes, “you still have the phone. It's GPS tagged. Saw you leaving Chicago, and thought you were heading to other feeding grounds away from prying eyes.”

 

“Hunting, yeah, but a case. Not blood.” I licked my lips, “despite how it wound up.”

 

“I noticed. Followed you for days. Honestly thought you were hunting that guy,” she gestured at Henry the Thrall, “why were you after them?”

 

“Case I was working had a lead pop up. Vampire.”

 

“Him?” Dawn asked. 

 

“No,” Tess said. 

 

“I'm sure you'll get them next time.” 

 

“Next time I'm bringing a fucking tank.”

 

“Good plan.” Dawn placed her hands on her hips and looked in the direction the mist had fled, “doubt they'll be back tonight. But we shouldn't hang out here too long ourselves.”

 

“Right. Got any bleach?”

 

Dawn looked around the blood soaked room, “not enough.”

 

We soaked as much as we could. Before leaving the premises, we gave the building a quick search. I found what I was looking for. An ornate wood cabinet adorning a wall of a library room. Inside was pay dirt. A grimoire. No time to read it now, but I flipped open the cover. Timothy Collier. I had a name now, at least. 

 

“what's that?” Dawn asked.

 

“Blood magic.” I noticed her expression, “not planning on doing anything nasty before you ask. But that mist trick could come in handy.”

 

Dawn nodded, but the concerned expression remained. “Let's just get out of here.”

 

Dawn drove. I used the opportunity to call Jules. Anonymous tip. Henry Smith was the registered owner of the car, but not the killer. Timothy Collier pulled the proverbial trigger. I gave the address. The Bently in the garage would be probable cause enough to enter. Maybe Henry would still be there, maybe he wouldn't. Either way, that place was burned for Tim. He was on the run, and I intended to keep him that way. 

 

—*—

 

Dawn had been sleeping in her jeep, staking me out, so I let all three of us into the small room I had rented. I went straight for the fridge, and drained three blood bags back to back. 

 

“Feel better?” Tess and Dawn asked in unison. 

 

“Not really,” I answered. I tossed the empty bags in the bin. I'd have to change the bag myself before we left. Didn't want to freak out the poor housekeeper. I carefully slipped out of my coat. Even with three blood bags, and half of Dawn's vitality, I was still sore all over. “I'm taking a shower.” I announced to the room. 

 

I turned the water on to hot, and let the steam blur the mirror before I looked into it. I was scared of who I might see looking back. I left the rest of my torn and bloody clothes in a pile on the floor. I stepped into the water, and let the liquid flow over me. The shower drained red. My eyes were closed. I felt arms wrap around me. After so many years, I knew Tess’ embrace.

 

From behind I felt unfamiliar hands on my shoulders. When I didn't flinch away, the hands moved down to my hips. I felt Dawn press herself against my back. Her lips touched my ear, “let me help.”

 

—*—

 

As always, I woke at dusk. Unlike always, an extra set of arms were wrapped around me. Tess’, and the new sensation, though less unfamiliar now, of Dawn. She was warm. Tess had her own warmth. But it was an intangible, indescribable thing. Like the caress of a breeze on a summer day. Dawn was hot. Almost burning to the touch, compared to my chilled flesh. I pushed blood through my veins, making sure I looked alive. 

 

Tess woke next, metaphysically attached to me as she was. She kissed my cheek, “mornin’ Jane.”

 

I kissed her back. The motion woke Dawn. 

 

“Fuck. Is It dusk already?” She sat up in the bed, blankets falling away revealing her nakedness. 

 

“Uh, Dawn—” I started. 

 

“What?” She asked, twisting on the edge of the bed to face me, “we fucked. Don't tell me you're going to go all shy prude on me now?”

 

I opened my mouth to make a point, but I didn't really have one. I pursed my lips in indignation. Dawn used the opportunity to dive in, and press her lips to mine. Oh. 

 

Tess rested her chin on my shoulder, “Dawn and I had a long talk today while you were sleeping.”

 

“What did you talk about?”

 

“Are you talking to Tess?” Dawn asked, “I can't see her anymore.”

 

“She says the two of you talked while I slept.” 

 

Dawn nodded, “Yeah. After donating that much blood, and fucking that rough, I needed food. Made use of the complimentary continental breakfast you were wasting. Tess mentioned something about a two point anchor while I could see her? We had a chat over breakfast before she disappeared. I assume she's still with you?”

 

I nodded. 

 

Tess held my hand, and let Dawn continue, knowing she couldn't hear her anyway. 

 

“Tess said polyamoury never really came up for you two before.”

 

I shrugged, “never really dated much before Tess. After we got married, well, date nights were only with her.”

 

“You two were married a long time. Know each other really well. She said you'd be okay with it. Which, mind you, this was less than an hour after we had all finished fucking, so you'd better be.”

 

I tried to squeeze Tess’ hand. It passed through hers. “she's right.”

 

“That's the face of someone with a ‘but’ coming.”

 

“we should get dressed. This isn't a conversation I want to have naked.”

 

Tess stuck out her tongue at me, “prude!” she teased.

 

“Tess?” Dawn asked. 

 

“Called me prude,” I told Dawn. 

 

Properly dressed, and sitting around the small table the room provided, Dawn held a steaming mug of coffee. Fuck, I missed coffee. 

 

“So.” I said, not wanting to waste time, “like Tess said, I'm on board with a poly relationship if that's what the two of you want.” Both nodded. “Our situation is complicated, though.”

 

“Because you're a vampire, and she's a ghost?”

 

I shared a glance with Tess, “definitely an aspect of it. But there's more to it than that. Tess knows, but I have a bit of history that's relevant here. In life— before I was turned, I struggled with— fuck. I was straight up an alcoholic. Fell off the bandwagon from time to time, but I did pretty okay with Tess’ help managing that.”

 

Dawn looked confused, “but vampires can't eat or drink anything other than blood, right? Means you're off the hook.”

 

“Well yes and no. What it means is I can recognize addiction in myself.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah. In the tunnel under the crib, the first time I fed on you. I felt it. Bagged blood keeps me going, but fresh blood is—” I struggled to keep the euphoria from my voice, “fresh blood made me feel alive. Ironically, more alive than ever before. I didn't know what I was missing until then, but now every fiber of my being is screaming at me to feed. To find prey. Fresh blood. The craving is worse than anything I've ever experienced for whisky.”

 

“Goddamn. So I basically poured a shot down your throat back there? I'm—”

 

I held up a hand, “it's fine. I was well and truly fucked. Deep down, didn't want to hurt you, and that helped me pull away before I went too far.” I shook my head, “if you weren't there, I probably would've fed on Henry, whether i wanted to or not. And I don't think I cared enough to have stopped myself.”

 

We all sat in silence, coming to grips with the reality of what might've happened. 

 

“But on the subject at hand,” I broke the quiet, “a relationship is complicated, because you can't see or hear Tess, and she can't touch or talk to you until I drink some of your blood.”

 

“And that's just feeding your addiction.”

 

I nodded, “like I said. Complicated. But all the cards are on the table. No relationship is without its hurdles. Ours are just a bit bigger than most.”

 

“Speaking of cards on the table,” Dawn added, “my dad is still probably going to try to kill you.”

 

I shrugged, “I'm gay. What's a little family drama with one's partners?”