It’s fall, the air is a bit chilly and I’m pretty happy about my new jacket. Josie got it for me last week when I visited her and Soso. I spend more time with Josie and Soso now. I still need my freedom, so I never stay long, but Soso keeps asking for “Unkie Lell”, and it’s really cute. The jacket is really cool and has the symbol for the Saints on it. I wanted to say I can buy my own damn jacket, but Josie got a new job, closer to home, and it pays her a little more, so she wanted to celebrate. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so I just thanked her and kissed her cheek.

She still worries about me; I know that. I doubt that will ever change. She noticed I have more money now. I try to hide it from her and stash it under my bed in my old room. I try to save the extra cash for Soso for her college fund. But I guess I look better fed now; I can afford regular meals. It’s actually part of the contract that I look after my body and keep healthy. Josie never asks me any questions about my life or what I’m doing. She listens when I feel like talking, which doesn’t happen too often. I think she’s afraid to ask, or I’ll confirm that her worst nightmares about what her baby brother is doing are actually true.

The other night, after she gave me the jacket, and we’re in our living room, Soso fast asleep in my lap, she asks if I’m seeing someone. A nice boy maybe? I don’t. Hustling and dating don’t go too well together. But I don’t say that, just that I don’t have a boyfriend. I ask her if she’s seeing someone, and she shakes her head a little sad and looks at Soso. Who’d want to date a single mom? I think anyone dating my sister hit the jackpot, and Soso is the cutest little girl on the planet. Maybe after Soso’s “maker” left her pregnant and without a dime, it’s her who doesn’t want to date. I can’t blame her.

I can tell Josie wants to say more but doesn’t know how. I think it’s about the money. She probably thinks if it’s not a boyfriend, maybe I have a sugar daddy now who pays me. Some old, rich, fat white guy, married with kids and a big house, who secretly prefers a young tight ass over his wife’s lady parts. I chuckle at the thought. It could not be further from the truth.

I don’t have a sugar daddy. I have two. They’re really old and filthy rich, but I doubt there’s an ounce of fat on their bodies. They’re married, to each other, so there’s no secret about what they prefer, but – sadly – my young tight ass is safe from them. They’re after a different bodily fluid. My blood.

Their names are Louis and Lestat, and they’re vampires.

I met Louis in spring two years ago and Lestat just after my 19th birthday earlier last year. I guess I’m their walking blood bank now. Every few months – they say it takes at least two for me to recover – I get an invitation to come to their house. I go there early in the day, and Mari, their housekeeper, and Barney, their cat, wait for me. I play with Barney while Mari dishes out the most fabulous food for me. She says it’s nice to cook for someone who appreciates her art for a change. I’m sure Barney enjoys her cooking, too, but that’s probably not the same. The first time I meet her, she asks me what I like, and I tell her I’m vegan. I feel a little guilty because I haven’t even told Josie. Mari guffaws and says Louis and I will get along great. I don’t know what it means and shrug.

Mari is really cool. She’s a small Latina, but with an attitude twice her size. She’s a bit older than me, maybe early 20s, and always wears low-cut tops and short skirts. She doesn’t take shit from anyone, least of all her two vampire bosses – or their cat. When she takes a break, we stand in the yard behind the house. She says she doesn’t smoke but always bums a “pucho” from me. She teaches me how to cuss in Spanish, and I tell her she reminds me of America Chavez. We never talk about our bosses.

I pretty much have the house to myself all day and get to do whatever I want. I can go everywhere, except for the coffin room where the vampires sleep. I try to play some video games, but I’m not very good at it. There’s a whole library of books, but concentrating is hard, so I just flick through them. I watch TV on the biggest screen I have ever seen in my life. I have my own room with a bed and my own bathroom. Mari says I can use it anytime I want to, but I only come here when I’m asked.

In the afternoon, I shower and put on some clean clothes that Mari put out for me. Then I wait in the parlour for the vampires to wake up. Lestat is usually first. I’m still star-struck around him, so we only do a bit of small talk before he goes into the dining room to call his lawyer or the band or whoever. Louis comes down later. So far only Louis is feeding from me, although the contract says I consent to both. He asks me some polite questions – how was your day, how are Josie and Soso, nice jacket – then we sit down on the settee, and he drinks from me. I think he’s trying to distract me with his questions. I’m still pretty nervous about the feeding, and my heart is racing. I’m sure he can hear it or feel it. I guess it’s just with the hustling. The first time I cried and threw up, then I got used to it.

He never drinks as much from me as the first time, but it still feels like floating, like I’m weightless, gliding, swimming through the air. I’ve never taken drugs, but this is what it must feel like. It still makes me wobbly afterwards, but I make it into my room. There’s always more food waiting for me if I want it, lots of water and a Diet Coke. Being a blood donor makes you real thirsty. I collapse on the bed and pass out before my head hits the pillow.

The next morning, Mari won’t let me go before I have a hearty breakfast, more fluids and some pills that will help my body compensate the blood loss. We share another “pucho”, and then I leave with my pockets full of money and go back to my normal life, until next time.

I still hustle. This arrangement with the vampire is still new, and I don’t know how long it will go on. How long can I do it? What if one night they get carried away and kill me? It almost happened the first time. What if they get tired of me? I want Josie and Soso to be cared for. I can’t risk losing my regulars, so I keep doing what I’m doing. The vampires don’t mind. They set out some rules for me, mostly basics like I’m to keep myself clean and healthy, eat well, and practice safe sex. Once a year I’m to see one of their vampire friends, an Indian doctor, to give me the all-clear. There’s also an NDA that Christine insisted on, but that the vampires aren’t too fussed about. Other than that, I’m free to do whatever I like. Or whoever. That’s the real beauty of it. I don’t waste any of the vampires’ money on myself, but it gives me the freedom to be a bit more picky with my clients.

The first days after the feed, I try to take it slow. I remember the time when I scared a client by passing out on him mid-thrust, so I try to pace myself. I also avoid seeing Josie in the days after, in case she can tell something is off. I just send her a text to let her know I’m okay.

Tonight things are a bit different than usual. Soso begged me to pick her up from daycare, so it’s almost sunset when I walk towards Royal Street. It’s still okay; I still have time to shower and change clothes. I ate at Josie’s and had about a gallon of water.

There’s a group of men hanging out in front of a pub. They’re drunk and loud, singing and slapping each other’s backs. I cross the street, stuff my hands in my pockets and keep my head down. I don’t wear anything flashy, just black ripped jeans, white sneakers and my new jacket. They still see me. There’s hooting and jeering. I hear wolf-whistling and wonder if one of them recognises me. Maybe it’s one of the guys I rejected lately? I don’t dare to have a closer look to find out and walk faster. There’s more yelling and a wheezing sound. A sharp pain erupts in my skull as something hard hits my head, and I can feel something warm and sticky trickling down my neck. More cheering from behind. I feel dizzy for a moment, and that is all that it takes for them to catch up with me.

They push me against a wall. There are at least four of them. Big and bulky. Bloodshot eyes. They call me names – faggot and worse – and laugh. I try to get away from them, but one of them always blocks my way and pushes me back against the wall. Hard. It knocks the wind out of my lungs, and I go down. One of them grabs me and pushes me back up. I hear a ripping noise as my new jacket gets torn. I know they will lose interest if I don’t fight back, but it’s my new jacket, Josie’s present, and I lose my calm and push the guy away. He punches me, and my nose breaks with a crunch, blood splatters down my front. My vision is blurred, tears in my eyes.

I don’t see the next one coming. This time it hits my stomach, and I double over. I feel hands closing around my throat. I’m being lifted, and I can’t breathe anymore. I try to kick them, blindly. I think I got one as I hear a grunt, but the others are on me. They drag me behind a dumpster, and their fists and feet are flying down on me. I curl up and try to protect my head and soft parts as best as I can. I cry, and my thoughts go to Josie and Soso. I’m sorry I’m such a rubbish brother and uncle. I’m sorry I won’t see you grow up, Soso.

I can feel something warm and liquid splash against my face, and I can hear their howling. There’s a sharp and acrid stench that makes my throat tighten, and I heave. I see Remy’s face in front of me. He’s beautiful and radiant. He’s smiling and waving at me. He walks towards me; I can’t wait to take him in my arms again and kiss him. They’re killing me… I’ll be with you soon.

A boot stomps down on my skull, and I can feel it crack. There’s a stabbing pain in my chest every time I try to take a breath. Broken ribs. I feel hands pulling on my jeans amidst more bellowing and laughter. I smell one guy’s stinking breath on my neck as his hands grab me. Oh, please, dear God, just let me go…

Suddenly, he’s gone. They’re all gone. I hear snarls and screams. Crushing noises. There’s a hand on my shoulder, gentle, but I flinch and groan. I think I hear French cursing near me, but I must be wrong. None of those brutes looked like they knew any French. More screams, panicked yells and ripping noises. Then it is quiet again. Hushed voices. Strong arms that lift me up like a doll and a gust of wind in my face as I’m carried away at unnatural speed. I finally and thankfully pass out.

When I wake up, the light is stinging in my eyes and my vision is blurred. My whole body is screaming in pain. If I died, this must be hell. The first thing that swims into focus is a face. It’s not Remy. It’s Louis. I’m surprised to see red paint smeared across his face and dripping down his chin. Then I realise it’s not red paint. It’s blood. Next to him is Lestat. He wipes his hand across his mouth, but I can still see traces of red there. Louis offers his wrist to me. Blood is welling out of two puncture marks.

I turn my head away – no, I don’t want that. Don’t make me… I don’t want to be… what you are – and I hear Louis’ soft voice.

“This won’t turn you. It’ll heal your wounds. I swear. Trust me. Just drink, mon chou.”

I still don’t want to do it and keep my lips tight shut. I think I’ll gag, but then the first drops of blood touch my lips, and I can’t help myself. It’s rich. Deep. Like molten honey, thick and heavy on my tongue. Then it’s fire, spreading out from my chest, crackling under my skin. The world tilts – just a little – like you took a drag of something too strong. I drink and never want to stop until Louis pulls his wrist away.

“That’s enough, mon brave,” he says gently.

I disagree, but not much I can do about it. I can feel the rush, the heat, the vampire’s blood searing through my body like hot lava, reaching even the most distant cells of my body. My brain fog slowly lifts as my eyes dart between Louis’ and Lestat’s blood-smeared faces. It’s not my blood. It’s theirs. The men’s. The ones that attacked me. And I realise that the vampires killed them. It occurs to me – like for the very first time – that these vampires are predators, monsters, that will kill anyone who crosses them. Without batting an eyelash. Without hesitation or remorse.

Part of me knew that, of course, but tonight I’m seeing it for the first time.

I get up, Louis’ blood giving me the strength, and I walk out of the room.