}“D’you think it’ll be enough?”
“No.”
“I don’t know what I’ll do if something goes wrong.”
“Relax, Max. Hey, that rhymed!”
“I tried to find another guy, but the sun was coming up.”
“Oh, what’s a little sunburn for a good cause, Romeo?”
“Stop it, El,” Max rubbed his forehead with a groan. El grinned and gnashed her teeth at him affectionately.
“I think she’s almost done,” El nodded her head towards the corner. Half-hidden by shadow, a young woman was hunched over the body of a homeless man, her face buried in his neck. She worked her mouth against his skin, making a soft suckling sound that seeped from the corner like muck oozing between toes.
“I’m done,” the woman said, getting to her feet. Her mouth and chin were covered in blood—the man’s neck was a pulpy mess of torn flesh.
El smirked at Max and tapped the side of her nose. He rolled his eyes at her and turned a strained smile onto the woman in the corner.
“How you doing, Liz?” he asked her.
Liz licked her lips. “Thirsty,” she said, “really thirsty. But he’s dry,” she gestured to the man at her feet. She looked up at Max with an almost shy smile. Her eyes were glazed, unfocused.
“Can I have another one?”
Max sighed. “No,” he said. “It’s morning, already. You’ll have to wait, like the rest of us.”
Liz’s face fell. “B-but I’m still thirsty,” she stammered. “I need more. I can’t be done if I’m still thirsty, Max!”
“I know he wasn’t enough, Liz,” Max said gently. “Bums rarely are—their blood is never too healthy. But we can’t afford to hunt anyone else.”
“But I’m still thirsty!” Liz repeated. She was beginning to shudder; she bared her blood-stained fangs, teeth clenching violently as she sat back on the floor.
“I need more, more,” she rested her forehead against her knees and clenched her fists. “More…”
Max tried not to look at her. Not long ago, she had been plain old Elizabeth Lugosi (ironically, no relation to Béla); beautiful, sweet, and settling into a promising career as sous-chef at a restaurant called La Pomme D’or. That had all changed a few hours ago when Maxwell Brede—vampire, friend, and lover—had bitten her so that he could keep her forever.
Now, as he watched his poor girl shuddering on the floor, Max wondered—not for the first time that night—if turning Liz had been a good idea. He’d forgotten how intense bloodlust was in fledglings, and how important it was that that lust be slated. The quality and quantity of a vampire’s first meal has a huge impact on their mental and physical health; Max had brought Liz the likeliest-looking bum he could find, but that clearly wasn’t going to be enough.
El leaned her face close to his. “We should probably tie her up or something,” she whispered.
“No.”
“Look at her, Max. If she doesn’t get some more blood soon, she’ll snap like a twig.”
“It’s not happening, El.”
“But it’s for her own good. As she is, she’ll only end up hurting someone.”
“No!”
Max’s voice was louder than he had intended it to be. Liz jerked her head up and gazed blearily in his direction.
“Is there more?” she asked.
Max nudged El aside and knelt next to Liz. He put a hand on her knee and said, “No. Liz, we won’t be able to get you any more until nightfall. I know it’s hard…but you have to try to control yourself. Please. For me.”
She gave him a tired look; her eyes were wet.
“I can’t, Max,” Liz whispered. “I can’t!”
She bit down on her lower lip—hard. The skin split and fresh blood began gushing out.
“Jesus!” El yelped.
Max felt as if he were rooted to the ground, unable to react. Liz curled her lower lip back and began to suck her own blood from the wound.
“Max! Stop her!” El cried.
Max couldn’t move.
Liz released her lip and tore into the meat of her forearm instead; she drank deeply, her eyes rolling back in her head.
Max shook his head, finally responsive again; but before he could do anything, El was there, grabbing Liz’s arm and yanking it out of her mouth.
They fought for a moment, Liz trying to regain her fangs’ purchase in her flesh. Finally, she tugged herself free; she fell to the ground, skidding across the floor. She looked down at the wound in her arm, and a tear slid down her cheek. The madness of bloodlust had almost left her eyes.
Max got to his feet, and El turned on her heel to face him.
“What the hell was that?” she demanded. “You were right there! Why didn’t you stop her?”
Max stammered. “She—I—I couldn’t! I would’ve hurt her!”
“She was hurting herself, Max! If she can suck her own blood, I think she can take a hit!”
“I didn’t want to hurt her!” he insisted.
“Don’t you think that letting her drink herself dry would do more damage?”
“Who said I would’ve let it get that far?”
El glared at him. Max pushed her aside and approached Liz, who was still staring at her arm.
“Liz?” he asked tentatively. “Liz, are you all right?”
She didn’t look at him. “I did this?” she murmured.
“Yeah, you did,” El shot from across the room, “and Casanova here was gonna let you keep going.”
“Stop it, El,” Max growled. He knelt beside Liz again, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“Did I hurt you?” she asked him. “Did I hurt El?”
“Actually,” he admitted, “El sort of hurt you.”
“Oh, screw you!”
“Shhhsh!”
Liz shook her head sleepily. “I don’t remember. It’s all fuzzy—like I was drunk or something.”
Max wrapped his arms around her. “That happens, sometimes, when we’re really thirsty. Our minds turn off and instinct takes over.”
“But I just had a drink,” Liz pointed out.
“You’re only a few hours old; you can’t function on one body a night at this stage.”
“So…I’ll go crazy again?”
Max hesitated. “Maybe.”
“Most definitely,” El corrected. She was standing nearer to them, now. She inspected her fingernails as Max glared at her.
“In fact,” El went on, “you’ll probably attack Max next. Lord knows, he won’t stop you if you do. And I probably won’t, either.”
“How can you be so cruel?” Liz demanded, pushing Max off of her and getting to her feet. She walked up to El and poked her in the chest. “Max is a wonderful person, and all you do is criticize him!”
El’s eyes narrowed. “We had enough problems,” she smacked Liz’s hand away, “before you came along. It’s hard enough getting enough blood to feed two vampires…but three?”
El gestured towards Max. “I told him not to turn you—but no! You guys have ‘twu wuv’! There’s no way you might be wrong; no way you’ll regret it in a few decades when you’re both sick of looking at each other’s ugly mugs. Neither of you realizes how stupid you’re being, and just because I do, I’m the bitch! Simply put,” she snarled, “I’m pissed off!”
Liz stared at her for a moment. Her hands were beginning to shake again. Max was watching her warily, but El didn’t seem to notice.
Liz bared her teeth, not out of malice, but out of hunger. She leaned towards El, “Are you saying you’re jealous?”
El recoiled as if she had been slapped. She flushed and curled her hands into fists.
“You’re full of it,” she spat.
Liz laughed; high, cold, and a little manic.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” She was rocking on the spot.
Max tried to make eye-contact with El, to warn her that Liz was showing signs of slipping into another frenzy. El’s gaze was fixed on Liz.
“I’m right,” Liz declared smugly.
El reeled back and punched her in the face.
That did it. Liz tackled her opponent to the ground, clamping her jaws around El’s shoulder and drinking deeply. El screamed and grabbed a fistful of Liz’s hair, yanking her head back. With a sticky squelch, Liz’s mouth came free and she squealed like a stuck pig as El bent her over backwards and delivered a quick kidney punch.
As she got up, El made to attack Liz one more time—but Max pulled his girl out of harm’s way just in time.
“Don’t hurt her, El!” he cried, his arm curled protectively around Liz.
El only looked at him.
“So now you cut in, you sonofabitch,” she muttered. On the last word, her voice broke.
Clutching her wounded shoulder, El turned on her heel and retreated into the darkness of the sewer.
Max watched her leave with a heavy heart. She’ll be back, he told himself.
He and Liz spent the rest of the day sleeping there, with his arm around her. When he woke up, the sun had already gone down, and El still hadn’t come back. Max tried not to care, not to worry. She had been wounded pretty badly…
…but there were more pressing matters at hand. Liz was stirring; she sat up with a yawn.
“I’m thirsty,” she said. “Let’s get a drink.”
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