Chapter 7: Frenzy

Someone set a tall flute of dark liquid on the table in front of me, just before they sat on the squeaky bench. A heavy iron scent drifted out, mixing in with the musty stench of sweat hanging in the air. It was a smell that could only come from one drink.

I grabbed it before they could speak and brought the flute to my lips, tilting it back as the warm lifeblood washed over my fangs, ran down my throat and disappeared before hitting the empty pit that was called my stomach. Warm, fresh, and a sweet, tangy aftertaste like the person was hopped up on sugar. No odd taste like that canned manure Caleb bought.

The darkly clothed person watched me lean back in the chair and tilt the glass higher until there was nothing left. I gingerly set the flute down and sighed as the pain left my fangs for the time being, remaining a dull throb to remind me that I needed more than just a sip. It was enough to take the edge off and placate my hunger, but I needed more. I needed a drink from my sire or perhaps another vampire. Approaching another vampire to drink from them would be a bad idea. They’d attack me for it. I’d have to drain them dry or get them distracted so they didn’t know I was the culprit.

Coherent thoughts floated back to me and I recognized Dinner sitting right there next to me, hands in their lap, head tilted a bit as their turquoise eyes smiled.

I wiped my mouth clean before I spoke. “Thank you. How can I pay you back?”

“You can trade me, like, ten credits if you want.” Dinner shrugged.

I pulled the hundred dollar bill out and showed it to Dinner. “This is all I have. I am ashamed to say that I have spent the last three nights without a proper meal.”

“How come?” Dinner pulled a wallet from a pocket on their leg and counted out five smaller bills. They gave me ninety credits back in exchange for my hundred.

“The canned blood an acquaintance buys does nothing for me.” I waved at the glass and shook my head. “How did you know what to buy?”

Dinner shrugged once more, faintly glowing eyes looking as if they were staring beyond me rather than at me. “I figured with you wanting to drink directly from the source you would totally appreciate it if I got the ‘good’ blood for my new friend.”

“Friend?” I cocked an eyebrow at Dinner, which was an odd name for my brain to grab ahold of and I knew why my mind did. It was still odd to happen.

“I didn’t know what else to say, okay?! The barkeep was seriously gonna call security on you if I said anything else.”

“Why?” I blinked.

Dinner tilted their head as they folded their arms across their chest. “You were totally drooling to the point you looked like an eldritch entity!”

“I was not drooling!” I gasped.

Dinner held their hands up in a defensive manner, slowly shaking their head from side to side. I waited for them to speak, but it was clear they weren’t going to, so I looked at the flute.

“And you're not… afraid of me?” I asked.

“Not anymore.” Dinner pulled a phone from their pocket. Their fingers were a blur of movement as they went from one screen to the next, then they groaned. “Oh, come on!”

“What?”

“One of my friends was supposed to meet me here tonight, but like, he still hasn’t texted me!” Dinner groaned once again, looking quite deflated at finding out their acquaintance stood them up and left them in my care.

“Is there no one else?”

Dinner shook their head and stared at the table. “Not really. Like, I only know maybe five people in town and it's because my roommates took me out with them. Otherwise I’d be out in the Mojave Wastes right now.” They ran their hands through their hair. “Fuck! I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have come to Encinar.”

New in town? And didn't know anyone?

I rubbed my chin for a long moment. Dinner might make a poor acquaintance, but we shared one thing in common. Their lack of contacts wasn't a downside. It meant they wouldn't be missed if they went missing and started working for me.

“Dinner,” I began as I flexed my fingers in their direction and tried to put on an easy smile. They looked up from their phone, confused face illuminated in the glow of their smartphone, washing out the one coming from their eyes. I continued, “If you’d be so kind as to give me your attention, I would like to extend an offer in exchange for your time.”

“Hm?” they hummed just soft enough to be heard.

I motioned between myself and Dinner. “This is something I would like for you to keep between us. Understand?”

“I’ll probably forget it in ten minutes.” They shrugged. Not at all reassuring, but they were the third person to give me more than two sentences all week. Well, aside from the dealership, but that person didn’t count because they talked to Isabella more than me.

I lowered my voice and leaned in so no eavesdroppers could hear us. “By God’s will, I have spent two hundred years in torpor and awoke less than a week ago. I swear to you, on my fangs, I know absolutely nothing about the world you were raised in. But, I am willing to pay you handsomely in gold if you teach me how the System works.”

“You can't trade gold person to person.”

“What?” I sat upright and leaned away from Dinner, holding a hand to my chest. “Preposterous!”

“Go on. Try it.” Dinner set their phone face down on the table and folded their arms across their chest with a smirk. “I’ll wait.”

“I don't have it on me,” I said, “My gold stash is safe at home.”

“See?” Dinner shrugged. “Can't trade it without a transfer station. But…” They sighed. “Sure. I can teach—”

“There you are!” Caleb called out as he approached the table, a concerned look on his face as if he were deathly afraid of me having disappeared and met my demise.

I waved to him, then Dinner. “Caleb, meet Dinner. Dinner, meet Caleb. The acquaintance I mentioned.” The two of them did an awkward looking maneuver of touching their fists to each other while I leaned back to observe the custom.

“Dinner?” Caleb parroted. Just that singular word made it sound like the ThinGen vampire had never heard of someone being called Dinner before. It wasn’t common. I didn’t feel like asking Dinner their name, because I don’t know if I’ll ever see them again.

“Yeah,” Dinner replied, cocking their head a bit, adding, “Got a problem with that name?” Their voice had lost its worried edge and took on a more confident tone.

Caleb looked at me. “Is her name actually Dinner?”

“Oh no, I totally have a name!” Dinner flashed a grin at Caleb. “But I ain’t telling you what that is.”

“So you're dinner?”

“Yes, but not yours.” Dinner dipped their head in a nod, waving a hand in my direction as if to prove a point, glowing bracelets clinking together. “She already had her fill and I’m, like, too skinny to support more than one vampire every three days. Can’t you tell, dude?”

Such a boldfaced lie to a vampire’s face made me smile, because Caleb didn’t know any better and I wasn’t going to say anything. The urge to laugh welled up inside of me, but I held it down by rubbing my cheek, and flicked my other hand in the bar’s direction. “Dinner, would you be so kind as to get us both a drink of the good stuff?” I asked, my voice not betraying the small smile on my face.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Dinner nodded, sliding out from the table and headed off without saying much beyond a grunt of acknowledgement.

Caleb watched Dinner leave before returning his attention to me. “She’s a bit feisty.”

“What is the job?”

Caleb sat across from me and spoke a bit too loud for my tastes. “So, first thing. The club owner said we’re not allowed to kill mortals here and wants me to remind you of that.”

I nodded. “Continue.”

“Second, he wants me to spy on you. I tried to persuade him that you just woke up, but he didn’t believe me. Something about he ‘knows you seafaring pirate types’. Especially you. He told me to watch my neck. What’s that mean?”

“Child, I was starving and my hunger thought for me. I’ll be hearing an earful from our benefactor no matter which way tonight pans out. And besides, Dinner is still alive. Now, tell me what you've learned by my mistake.”

Caleb twiddled his fingers as he thought over my words. He bit his lip in a way that showed off his fangs for all to see, nodding. “When walking into unknown territory, ask permission if you can hunt?”

“Do not come hungry,” I corrected and stretched out my legs as they were starting to feel odd, even if the muscles were controlled by whatever blessing kept me going. “And be more discreet if you do. What did he tell you of our mission?”

“Some people came by last week and accosted the dance floor, threw things around, showed their guns, and made a mess. He made it clear they’re to be…” Caleb’s voice trailed off as Dinner approached with two flutes of fresh blood.

“Special delivery!” Dinner exclaimed. They gave one to me and the other to Caleb. I gave Dinner the remaining ninety credits to deal with any further payments.

“Is this actual human blood?” Caleb asked as he brought the flute up and inhaled the aroma. He swirled the blood around, the heavier than canned liquid leaving streaks on the sides of the glass. He sniffed again, lips curling back in anticipation. I was sure that his stomach would growl if he had a working one. “It smells… odd.”

“Room temperature, too.” I nodded my thanks to Dinner and waited for Caleb to make the first move.

“Not cold?” Caleb looked at me before looking at Dinner for a few long moments.

Dinner shrugged. “It's how they gave it to me, dude. Don't eat the delivery driver.”

“The warmer the better,” I said quietly, sniffing my drink in an attempt to discern if Dinner had bought the good stuff or not. They had, which was good, as my hunger wanted more of it and I couldn't let myself starve, could I? Maybe I will ask Caleb for a drink of his blood later. Even if he was filled with that nasty canned blood, he had to be tasty, right? I wasn’t sure as it’s a situation I never encountered before.

I sipped from my glass, eyes right on Caleb while he downed half the glass in one go.

The poor fledgling’s face contorted in an awkward manner, nose scrunching like he was in pain.

Dinner wisely stepped away from the table, because Caleb couldn't keep the blood down. It splattered all over the wooden table as the glass dropped from his hand. Poor, poor Caleb coughed up a storm as if he tried to inhale at the same time he coughed, but it was stupid when neither of us needed to breathe!

Must be used to acting like a mortal.

“What the fuck is that?!” Caleb yelled finally once all of the warm blood came out. “That’s not blood!”

The wasted blood cooled on the table, glimmering away in what light there was. I sipped from my glass again, slowly shaking my head from side to side. Caleb muttered something as he glanced around, his chest heaving like he still wasn't able to hold anything down. A pained look crossed his face as he grabbed his mouth and dashed off with all the speed of a frightened deer. I glanced at Dinner, lifting an eyebrow to question them without a word.

Dinner shrugged. “It's the same thing you're drinking, lady. Maybe he’s not a real vampire?”

I swiped a finger across the spilled blood, letting it soak into my skin, and gave it a lick. Sure enough, the warm liquid had the same texture and aftertaste to what I was drinking, but slightly different. I couldn't place what was different. Like someone had put either an extra sugar cube in or it came from a different ‘blood type’ if the canned tastes were to be believed. Perhaps they finally categorized everyone’s blood, but I didn’t know for sure. Each person’s blood held a slightly different taste to it and Dinner’s life force resonated with my hunger in a way that I knew I’d greatly enjoy the meal, even if it wasn't vampire blood. That's why she picked them out.

“Explain.” I tilted my glass back and drank the rest of my meal.

“Well, it’s just that some people have really good cosmetics. Like, really really good cosmetics because they spent a metric ton of gold to look the part, but they actually aren't, you know?”

I grabbed a handkerchief from my pocket and dabbed my mouth clean before I spoke. “No, Dinner. I do not. And cosmetics cannot fake an absent heartbeat. I've seen a ‘vampire’ using a cosmetic and she still had a heartbeat.”

“Then why did he react like that?” Dinner asked, waving a hand in the direction Caleb ran. “That was hella weird!”

“Canned blood cannot substitute the flavors one gets from wild prey.” I motioned toward the dance floor. “Even if it’s been put in a glass, it still has enough flavor to taste different.” And vampire blood even more so.

It's so tasty…

Dinner shook their head and shrugged. “I don't know. There's some very convincing cosmetics out there. You said he drank a potion?”

“He drank a potion by the ThinGen corporation according to him.”

“Maybe he did spend gold to turn himself into a vampire then, but like, all I'm saying is a cosmetic can convincingly fake being a vampire.”

“He doesn’t have a heartbeat, Dinner.”

Dinner wrung their hands together as their head dipped in my direction. Each breath was laced with a hint of alcohol, but that was to be expected of a saloon patron. “Here, I’ll… I’ll teach you like you want. Let’s start with that dude. You said yourself you woke up a few days ago, so, like, how much do you really know that guy?”

It was a good question and the answer was a true no. I didn’t know Caleb at all. The man found me and I decided to drag him along as I did a side job for my sire. Well, technically I am following him around as he does a side job. And failing at it.

“I don’t know.” It was the honest truth. Perhaps in my confusion about the new world I latched onto the worst candidate to talk to. Dinner seemed to have their head on straight compared to Caleb and Dinner wasn't even a vampire! They were drunk! Then again, Dinner could be as old as me. Elves and half-elves were weird, because they aged incredibly slowly from what I heard. The Nassau Empress was well over five thousand years old by the time she appeared on Earth in the early 1600s. If one were to believe the rumors that is.

The half-elf next to me took a deep breath, turquoise eyes blinking in what light there was. “So… like, you're an old vampire, yeah?”

I nodded. “Yes, why?”

“From before the Collide?”

I nodded again.

“What was combat like before the Corporations started fielding mechs in almost every engagement?”

“Mechs?” I cocked my head to the side, frowning deeply at their words. “What is a mech?”

“Easy way to put it is a really, really, really huge suit of armor and walking weapons platform.” They pulled their phone out and showed me a photograph of themself posing in front of a well painted, if rusty bipedal warmachine bristling with weaponry.

The bipedal vehicle was roughly as tall as a two story house. I could see that it had a few haphazard repairs done to the armor plating and looked more functional than aesthetically pleasing. It vaguely resembled a mechanical human with weapons on its forearms, rocket pod in the chest, and a single cannon on one shoulder. To me, it looked like an overgrown suit of proto-power armor, complete with hands for grabbing things, which is what Dinner was sitting on in the picture.

“They fight wars with these machines?” I asked. It seemed both odd and a logical evolution from prototype arcane power armor to giant machines that were as tall as buildings.

Dinner took a deep breath and wrung their hands together once more for a few moments. “Um… well, see. It’s classified as a Salvage mech because the Cutting Lances in its forearms are supposed to be heat-based cutting torches. At least, when you don’t have the focusing lens overclocked and set to the narrowest point. Technically, on the books, my job is to totally cut open ruins and facilitate transportation of any scrap or magic items the ground team locates, but usually I’m loaded with a combat package. Because, like, I spend more time defending the scrappers from enemy mech… um… hostile entities than I do waiting for salvage to be loaded in.

“Typically, I get paid around a hundred and forty-thousand credits for every mission and that pays for repairs, fuel, ammo, and any medical expenses. It’s not like I’ve led wings of war machines into battle against another corporation's mechs. Nnnooo, not at all! I'm just a Salvage Pilot and there's totally not a war going on right now between the Terran Salvage Corporation and the Terran Mining Corporation. And my merc company is contracted with a third party poking at the both of them.”

I had no words for what Dinner was going on about, so I leaned back in my chair and rubbed at my chin. Corporations fighting each other? Was that as if the West India Company decided to suddenly fight a war against the East India Company because their ships happened to cross each other’s paths?

That sounded loco!

Dinner had likewise gone quiet, as they were scrolling through photos on their phone until they showed me a picture of the machine’s internal control station, which looked like a chair and a lot of screens and buttons. “See?" Dinner began with a small smile. "They aren't too hard to pilot. Most have an ejection seat, too! I could totally teach you how in about five minutes tops, but I dunno if you've got the gene for it. Can't pilot 'em too good without it. Hell, the System won't even offer you the Salvage Pilot class without the gene!”

I wasn't sure what to say, so I stared at the blood dripping from the table. Blood which Dinner seemed to be ignoring. Mortals typically don't just ignore blood pooling around. They freak out at the sight of it. And here Dinner was just acting casual about the whole thing, but if what they were saying was true then that meant they'd seen a lot more bloodshed than I have.

“Uhm. What now?” Dinner asked, finally breaking the silence as they put their phone away.

“Your dinner.” I smiled at them.

“Huh?” They blinked a few times.

“I will accompany you wherever you like and pay for your meal.”

“Why? You can’t, like, eat food, right?”

Why was a good question. One I didn't have an answer for. So I shrugged. “Then you can contact me again if you want. I understand if not.”

Their faintly glowing eyes lit up like the sun, blinking a few times before they smiled. “Really?!”

“Yeah.”

They took my phone number down, followed by giving me theirs for a later dinner date, and walked off, leaving me to wait for Caleb who never came back to the table. I waited around for the wayward vampire. Even called the waitress to come clean up after his mess and apologized to her. As I checked out both washrooms, I noticed there was a guarded door near the back.

The guard glared at me and asked for a pass I didn't have.

I shrugged at him and asked, “What pass?

“Get out of here.” He threw a hand back the way I came. His attitude did not go unnoticed. I’d have to deal with him another day, as finding Caleb was far, far more important.

I wandered away from him, now feeling actual blood in my system and was quite refreshed compared to when I first arrived at the saloon. The music was too loud, almost headache inducing while I took in the stench of sweat and food being cooked. Nauseating was one word to describe it. I didn't know how I found the place attractive when I was starving, but then again. When you're on the verge of losing control, anything looks amazing. Even a rat.

I used my vampiric eyesight to brighten the room like daytime as I looked at cracks in the floor, dried blood caked into the nooks no one could get to. Even lighter spots on a wall leaving me to wonder if the saloon had been shot up in the past. No mortal could see the issues with how dark it was.

I found the sloshed vampire at the nearest vending machine with five empty cans in his lap, and a sixth can in his hand as he drowned his sorrows in fake blood. A small crowd of people were gathered around him, asking if he was okay or not. Two people held their phones up in an awkward manner I didn’t understand the point of. They seemed to be staring at the back of their dark screens as the front side faced Caleb. The vending machine happened to be in the entryway, which made the scene all the more embarrassing. There were countless mortals watching the fool as they came in and out of the saloon.

It’d be easy to cloud the area in shadows and give Caleb the space he needed, but I didn’t want the mortals screaming in fright when the tendrils showed up.

The fledgling frowned at my approach. “My fangs hurt…” Caleb drank the rest of the can, grabbed his payment card and held it against a flat spot on the machine. The machine beeped, so he pushed one button, and then another. A few unusual moments went by while I watched through the glass as a machine’s hand moved to the side, then up to a can in the center, and finally the machine grabbed the can. It pulled it away from a shelf and brought it down to a hole at the bottom of the machine.

I cocked my head to the side, stepped closer and looked at the machine. It asked if I wanted to buy another can, so I checked my options through the glass and found the one my sire had given me. My hunger hit the buttons for that. The machine repeated the same motions until my can appeared in the hole, which I stuffed in my dress pocket for later.

Caleb cracked his next can open and sniffed it. “Is not the same!” he said, voice slurring heavily as he shakily brought the can up to his mouth. “Why none of this… tasting like that glass?!”

I grabbed the can before he could drink it, shaking my head. “Caleb. Do not have any more. You're already full enough.”

“Nooo!” He whined as he held onto the can. “I need more. My fangs hurt, there's a voice… it… it wants more. More!”

His hunger…

That had to be it. Rather than consume every mortal in sight, the poor ThinGen vampire was burning credits in the machine to drink his beast away. I knelt next to him and felt his cold forehead, then his neck where I thought his heart would be beating to see if Dinner was correct. His body shivered at my touch, but there wasn't any pulse to speak of.

“You're in a frenzy,” I stated the obvious.

A laugh filled the air behind me before someone else said, “What a pathetic drunk.”

I couldn't keep him in the saloon or he'd make too much of a scene. We were already being watched by so many mortals and there was no veil to hide under, so I stared into Caleb’s red eyes and focused my blood on my voice. With all the force of vampirically powered vocal cords, I ordered, “You are going to listen to me.” I spoke coherently and with the least amount of accent I could muster.

Caleb blinked a few times as shadows criss-crossed his eyes momentarily. His eye twitched visibly while his brain heard the words, processed them, and allowed my words to soak into his mind. Now his entire focus was only on me and not his hunger.

“I am going to listen to you,” he repeated.

“Get up and come with me.” I grabbed him by the arm and hauled the corpse to his feet under the laughter of the people around us. They wouldn’t be laughing a few days ago. They’d be passed out or dead on the floor and I’d be peeling Caleb off one of them. I felt an odd emotion I hadn’t felt in a long, long time; shame. It was embarrassing having to deal with the ThinGen like he was. It’ll put a mark on my reputation if anyone in the council finds out about it.

There was no ceremony when dealing with a frenzying vampire. The best option was get them someplace with the least witnesses and feed them a mortal, but since his hunger demanded cans. I took him to his wagon, opened the back door and released my mental hold. “Be you again,” I said.

He dashed through the door and into the backseat like lightning and tore into the case of blood as if the fledgling were a wild animal, so I closed the door. Giving him space to feed in peace and quiet was the least I could do. I pulled my pocket watch out to see how much time we had left before sun up. It was going to be a long night and it was only close to midnight.