Having a stranger in the place he had considered his hideout felt instinctively wrong, like he had set a trap for himself and fallen for it. Of course, there was nothing for Artemiy to find, but James worried that if any cases were to return to this house, or to him, Artemiy would be the first to sell him out—that maybe he missed something in his meticulous coverups, or that he left a witness.

Anyone who knew him was technically a witness. Not an eyewitness, necessarily, but any and everything he said could be used against him. At what point did it stop being worth it to even try and be a part of society? James didn’t want to think about that.

“Hello? Earth to Adler?”

James snapped back to the present. “Sorry,” he said. “What were you saying?”

“All we have left to do is take apart your bed frame and pack it up,” said Artemiy. “Then we can get out of here for good.”

James sighed. “Alright. Follow me.”

He beckoned Artemiy to follow him and crept up the stairs. He had never realized how creaky they were; Artemiy’s footfalls squeaked and squealed in a way James’ never had, and it irked him. Every floorboard sounded off like the souls of the damned under Artemiy’s feet, all the way down the hallway and to the door.

James winced as the door hinges screamed; there was a reason he spent so little time here.

“There it is,” said James, pointing at the bed with the thin headboard pushed up against the wall. It was small, bigger than a twin but smaller than a queen, and the bedding lacked substance, consisting of two thin, threadbare blankets he’d had for decades at this point.

Artemiy frowned. “No offense, dude, but this is sad,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “Maybe it’s just ‘cause this place is too big for just one guy, but I don’t know how you live like this.”

James shrugged. “It’s all I need,” he said. “Can’t really afford any more than that. And I’ve moved around a lot, so…” He stopped himself. One of the first things they tell you about vampires is that they rarely stay in one place for long, and revealing that he was intentionally mobile could easily be enough to at least raise suspicion.

But Artemiy seemed to take no notice, or at least didn’t ask any probing questions, which James appreciated. Once the bed was dismantled they struggled to get each piece, including the old spring mattress, down the stairs and into the truck. The mattress was easily the worst part, and the trek downstairs took much longer than it should have and involved an uncomfortable amount of close proximity. More than once the hairs on James’ neck raised up after feeling hot breath there, and at one point he startled so much that he bumped into Artemiy and almost brought them both tumbling down the stairs.

“Can’t wait to do that again,” said Artemiy, grimacing, “except up, and in a tighter stairwell.”

James drew in a deep breath and clenched his jaw. “At least we get a bit of a break while I clean up the flat,” he said. “Although it might take me a while. If it gets late enough you’re free to unload everything into the storage room and I’ll figure it out myself.”

Artemiy looked at James in disbelief. “I think you’d die before you got that mattress up those stairs alone,” he said. “I’m helping you tidy, and I’m helping you unload, and unless you really just want me gone that badly, I’m helping you set up.”

James said, “oh,” and perched himself on a stool. “I appreciate that.”

And he did appreciate it, really, but it felt strange to him. Maybe it just wasn’t in his nature to do favors even for people he liked, but a total stranger dedicating his entire day to helping him get settled into an apartment didn’t quite sit right with James. It wasn’t about suspicion or anything like that, Artemiy seemed perfectly trustworthy, but that was exactly it—he seemed like a genuinely good person. It shouldn’t come as a shock that James and good people frequently did not mix well, given that the former was a killer by necessity and the latter are generally opposed to that sort of activity. All the same, James couldn’t hate him, or even dislike him the way he disliked Roxán. Not after he’d been so generous with his time.

He and Artemiy barely spoke in the brief respite before they unloaded the truck, but the tension that had existed in the car ride to the house and back was dissipating. James realized the discomfort was probably one-sided—go figure. He made a mental note to be more normal in the future.

“Well,” Artemiy said, standing up with a performative groan, “guess we should get back to work.” He dug his keys out of his pocket and gave the fob a couple rapid clicks, raising his eyebrows at James, who promptly followed suit. James sighed as he looked at the full size mattress he was going to have to wrangle up the stairs in but a few minutes time.

Artemiy sensed his apprehension and tried to reassure him by saying, “Don’t worry about that right now, we’ll do that one last.”

“I should hope so,” James chuckled, cracking his knuckles individually with his thumb, “it wouldn’t—well, it really wouldn’t make sense to do it first. It would be in the way while we built.”

Artemiy raised an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

James kicked himself mentally. He was sure Artemiy already wasn’t super fond of him, it wasn’t like Roxán would’ve had anything nice to say, he didn’t have to make things worse for himself by being awkward. This guy seemed cool enough, it could be worth it to get to know him better, even if only to keep up appearances. Forging some kind of positive connection with Roxán wouldn’t exactly hurt, either. Especially if he was going to be living above the shop—having her around would be almost, if not entirely, unavoidable. The dining area, kitchenette, and sources of entertainment such as the old, boxy black television and various card games were not only owned by but frequently used by the Betancourts, and he couldn’t take those amenities away from them, even if he wanted to—he already felt like an intruder in their family, no need to make that even worse for himself.

Before he knew it, James and Artemiy had gotten all the pieces of his bed frame up the stairs and they were ready to start assembly.

Artemiy hit the butt of his hand against his forehead. “I left the tools in the truck bed. Mind running and grabbing those for me?” His wide-eyed gaze met James’, who paused briefly.

“Sure,” he said, almost in a whisper, before loping off around the corner and down the stairs. James had never been more uncomfortable spending the day with a stranger than he was right now, which was saying something, as he was considerably less psyched out now than he was before. As normal as Artemiy seemed, something was off about him, much in the same way as something was off about Roxán. He figured that must be why they’re such good friends.

When he returned with the tools, Artemiy was slouched on the couch scrolling on his phone. James held up the fistful of tools he’d retrieved and stared blankly, catching Artemiy’s attention. He looked up from whatever he was doing, expression notably lightening, and said “Thanks, man. Let’s fuck this shit up.”

James couldn’t help but make a bewildered expression, just amused enough to smile. “Wouldn’t this be more akin to, uh, un-fucking it up? Since we’re putting it back together and all.”

Artemiy made a face like Beaker from the Muppets. “I guess so,” he said through a chuckle. “Not really what I meant, but sure.”

James stood up bent over backwards as far as he could, feeling his spine crackle and pop, relieving the tension from sitting hunched over on the floor for so long. As it turns out, neither of the young men were particularly handy, and putting together a bed frame sans-instruction manual was much more difficult than either of them had anticipated. It was dusk, and Artemiy was beginning to complain of hunger. James had really hoped this ordeal would’ve been done with by now, and Artemiy’s grumblings reminded him that he’d have to find some excuse for not eating.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“Do you just wanna get this over with now, or would you rather break for dinner before we finish up? It’s not gonna be cold tonight or anything, if you wanted to walk a couple doors down with the Betancourts in fifteen minutes or so to eat with them. They’re getting some kind of soup.”

James cringed internally. “You can go with them if you want, I’ll stay behind. I’m not exactly a huge soup guy. I’ll figure something else out.”

Artemiy shrugged and said, “Okay. I’ll go with them, but I’ll come back ASAP. I’d like to get home before my mother worries, and we’ve got our work cut out for us for sure.”

James was suddenly curious. “You’re in university, right?”

“Oh, me? No,” Artemiy responded, “I’m in a technical school down in Florida. For my welding CTE. Why do you ask?”

“No real reason.”

Artemiy frowned. “Okay, well, I’m gonna head downstairs. See you in a bit.”

James wondered if he shouldn’t have asked as he watched Artemiy disappear down the stairs, and eventually his thoughts turned to feeding. It had been a few days since he’d last hunted, he could do with a bit of a refill, although it most certainly wasn’t happening before Artemiy made it back from his own dinner. A hunt could take days, any less would be sloppy. In a bigger city he could afford sloppy, but a little town like this? It would be far too risky. He seriously considered for the first time in a while the actual logistics of hunting only within Windrow—it was impossible for him to keep going like this. Each hunt generated too much fanfare. A missing persons case in a town like this was far from unheard of, but this many within a few months was spooky, to say the least. He needed to start going far out of his way to hunt, into real cities, where he would be harder to track.

The jingle of the bells on the shop door brought James back to reality. There was no way he was hunting tonight anyway, so he may as well enjoy the time to relax. Plopping himself down onto a rolling office chair, he swiveled around and fidgeted with his thumbs. His new housing arrangement would easily leave him with a couple hundred dollars a month to set aside, and he wondered if it would be worth it to get himself a cell phone. It didn’t seem like it could particularly hurt, but he really didn’t need one. Mostly he just found himself bored a lot.

Maybe eventually. He’d lived for over a century without one, he’d be okay a while longer.

The faint tinkle of bells alerted James to Artemiy returning. Well-rested, he rose from the chair and made his way downstairs.

“Ready for round two?” Artemiy asked with raised brows.

The real answer was no, he wasn’t, but the task had to be done, however unpleasant, so James gave a staunch “Yup,” and the two headed back to the truck. Artemiy lifted one end of the mattress up off the truck bed and started to pull it outwards, and James took hold of the back end. Once it was fully out of the truck, they flipped it on its side and maneuvered it through the front door. The easy part was officially over.

The stairway up to the flat was barely wide enough to let two grown men pass if they were pressed up against either wall as they did so, and the mattress James and Artemiy were trying to get up said stairway was almost as thick as James was himself, which admittedly was not extremely impressive, but fairly thick nonetheless, which made the whole ordeal and incredibly awkward process. They weren’t as close together as before, since Artemiy’s superior strength was needed to actually pull the mattress upwards, and James was needed more so to keep the mattress from pulling Artemiy downwards, putting them at opposite ends of the mattress, but it was an odd squeeze all the same.

They did manage, and James was almost underwhelmed after he had built it up so much in his mind, only for it to go pretty smoothly after all. With the mattress situated on the bed frame, all that was left was for James to dress it and he’d be good to go.

“Thank you so much for your help today,” he said, instinctually offering his hand out. “I couldn’t have done any of that on my own.”

Artemiy took his hand and gave it one curt shake. “Absolutely. Any time.”

The two lingered for what felt like eternity before Artemiy turned and left with a little wave and a nod, and just like that he was gone.

James was smoothing out his bedsheets and getting ready to lay down for the night when he heard Roxán and her mother returning from dinner. He had assumed that they would just go straight home after, since it was now pretty late, but when he heard a knock at the door to the flat it made sense that they would check up on him.

“Come in,” he called.

Ms. Betancourt entered, flashing him a warm smile. “Oh, lovely. I see you’re all situated. Roxán and I are gonna go home for the night, rest well.”

“See you tomorrow, ma’am,” James replied, sprawling out on the bed once the door clicked shut once more. He didn’t really sleep, due to personal preference, so he closed his eyes and let his thoughts wander. Eventually his thoughts landed on Artemiy, and then to Roxán. He felt a vague pang of regret for being so cold with her all this time, and wondered if he should try and befriend her after all. He didn’t really mind Tim so much, either. They’d all just be here for the summer, anyway, it couldn’t hurt to spend a little time with them, just to keep from being so bored…

James bolted upright. Beams of daylight streamed through the yellowing blinds, his blankets were all kicked to the foot of the bed, and he had a miserable crick in his neck that sent a jolt of searing pain throughout his body as he sat up. At some point he had actually fallen asleep, when exactly he had no clue, and he felt like his brain had turned to mist. Maybe he would’ve slept well into the day, if he hadn’t been startled awake by a particularly foul dream. He swore under his breath and rubbed his eyes; hopefully a shower would help him feel better. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing at the pain in his neck. Mulling over the fragments of the dream he could recollect, he stripped bare and stepped into the shower, turning the knob all the way to the hottest end. The water hit his skin icy cold, and he stood shivering for a few minutes until the water gradually warmed, letting a sigh escape through clenched teeth once the water was hot enough. The room quickly filled with steam, the temperature evening out to a smothering warmth as James ran his hands through his hair. He let the scorching liquid patter over his face, his stiff neck quickly soothed by the warmth and steam. He stood there for some time, basking in the blistering heat, before abruptly turning the water off and stepping out into the steamy bathroom, helping himself to a soft towel from the linen closet. When he emerged, skin flushed deeply, towel thrown over his still-wet hair, the rest of the flat felt freezing cold by comparison. He hung the towel on a bedpost and pulled a sweatshirt over his head, shaking his hair out afterwards.

That’s much better, he thought, massaging his neck. Ms. Betancourt would arrive soon, and if odds were to be believed, Roxán would be with her. He trotted down the stairs to prepare for opening. His dream from the previous night had thrown him off his groove for sure, and he could only hope and pray the rest of the world wouldn’t test him.

Unfortunately, James spent the rest of the day irritable. He knew it was because he was hungry, but he just didn’t have the time to put in the effort.

Then, a thought struck him. He sought out Ms. Betancourt in the shop and got her attention.

“Is it possible I could get tomorrow off?” He asked, crossing imaginary fingers.

Ms. Betancourt looked surprised. “Of course,” she replied, “you’ve hardly had a break since you started here. And I’m sure you’re exhausted from moving in.”

“Thank you so much,” said James. “Really, thank you.”

He strode off back to his station at the register to wait for business. With tomorrow off, he could easily slip out that evening after work and catch a bus into the city. There he’d have a much wider range of prey options, he’d be much harder to trace, and all with the added bonus of not interfering with the lives of the people in close proximity to him.

The door bells jingled, and James locked eyes with a familiar green gaze.

“Hey there,” said Artemiy, giving James a little wave as he approached. “I came in to grab lunch for myself and my parents.”

“Of course,” said James. Did he come in here as a customer often? He’d scarcely seen hide or hair of him since yesterday, so James was most certainly not expecting him to show up unannounced. “Anything I can get for you?”

Artemiy pursed his lips. “I was thinking ham and cheese sandwiches,” he said, slow and deliberate. “Mustard, no mayo. On all three. One with lettuce and tomato. Please.”

James prepared the sandwiches on the deli counter, more than a little thrown off. “There you go,” he said, handing over the sandwiches parceled neatly together. “Your total comes to… sixteen dollars and eighty-seven cents.”

Artemiy took out a card and held it up to the card reader.

“You’re good to go. Enjoy,” said James.

“Thanks. See you around.”

James wiped down the counter as Ms. Betancourt came around to the register.

“I don’t know that he’s actually bought anything from our store since he was in his freshman year of highschool,” she mused. “Certainly not a frequent customer. Although for a while he was here almost as often as Roxán was.”

James’ interest was piqued. “Why’s that?”

Ms. Betancourt got a distant look in her eyes. “Well, the two of them have been pretty close for a while now. Roxán is in a much better place now, but for a while, Artemiy and Tim were the only people who would give her the time of day. She really struggled, socially speaking. Still does, but she’s much better at managing it. She won’t talk to me about it, but one way or another she managed to turn almost everyone who knew her against her. If it weren’t for those boys I don’t know where she’d be today.” The woman smoothed out her blouse. “In any case, they may as well be family. I’ve adored them since day one.”

James felt especially bad now for being an ass to Roxán. Of course, he had no way of knowing, but in hindsight there really is no excuse to be bitchy to someone you’ve just met, not even to put distance between yourself and a potential threat. His burdens didn’t have to be hers, too.