I wake up when the sun is fully up, later than I usually get up, and I’m grateful that as a custodian I don’t have any fixed working hours. I stumble from the terrace into my apartment, making a beeline for the coffee maker. Before I can reach my destination, I hear banging at my door. Very loud, very insistent. That means it can only be one person. I sigh, and with a longing look at my coffee maker, I open the door to find old Mrs Beauchamp. She complains about her leaky sink again. It’s not leaky. She just wants me to come over for a glass of iced tea and a chat. With a last sad look at my coffee maker, I promise her I’ll be downstairs in five. I just need a shower and to get changed.

When I knock at her door ten minutes later, she has already prepared a tray of chocolate cookies and iced tea. To keep up the charade, I check her sink, tighten a nut with my wrench, turn the faucet on and off, and act as if I’m satisfied with the result. Then I dutifully sit down for a chat and eat a cookie out of politeness even though they’re not vegan.

About an hour later I manage to escape, but I am cornered by Gigi and Etie. They want to play soccer with me. I make them promise to help me with my garden project later on and go upstairs to get Bruno. He’s our partner in crime to distract Mrs Beauchamp. When I ask her to take care of my timid little kitten, she’s less likely to complain about our playing in the backyard. As foreseen, Mrs Beauchamp is delighted to take Bruno.

I end up playing soccer with the kids all afternoon until their mom comes back home from work and calls them in for their dinner. They promise to make it up to me the next day, and after taking out the bins for trash collection the next day, watering the plants and sweeping the pavement, I head back upstairs to my flat with Bruno. I can feel his belly is round and full to the brim with treats from Mrs Beauchamp, so I withstand his big pleading eyes and skip his evening feed. He acts offended and wanders outside on my terrace.

I take a shower and change into a clean t-shirt and shorts before I make myself a sandwich and decide to finish some necessary paperwork that I’ve been putting off for far too long. I open my laptop while chewing on my sandwich and sipping a diet coke, but it’s just no use. Last night’s insomnia and the heat of the day combined with not eating or drinking properly all day are catching up with me. Forgetting to feed myself regularly is unfortunately still a thing for me. It simply slips my mind sometimes that I have food now that I can eat. There’s a soft pounding starting at the back of my head, and my eyes just want to close.

I quickly check the clock in my kitchen area. Sundown is still a few hours away, and the vampires might go on a hunt before coming over. Actually, let’s hope they come well fed. I’m not in the mood to be snacked upon. I sigh. Maybe a quick nap and hope I’ll feel better then. I glance at my phone on the counter, but it is dark and quiet. Then I grab an apple and stretch out on the deckchair on my terrace. I’m asleep in seconds.

I’m woken up by a cold, wet nose pushing against my face. I open my eyes to find Bruno sitting in front of me, his head tilted. Yes, thanks, buddy, I’m still alive. I take a look at the sky. There’s a shimmer of light on the horizon. There’s still some time. I eat the apple (still untouched from earlier) and down at least a gallon of water. Bruno follows my every step, my personal furry trip hazard. I’m sure he had a week’s worth of treats at Mrs Beauchamp’s, but to get him off my back, I fill some kibbles in his food bowl. I also don’t want Louis to think I’m starving his cat’s offspring.

My headache is still there but somewhat dulled, and I hope the water will help.

The vampires actually don’t make me wait too long. It’s just after the sun has completely gone down when I hear a knock at my door. I open it to find Louis and an older white guy with grey curly hair wearing aviator style sunglasses. I realise that it’s the first time the vampires have come over to visit me.

I grin at them: “How does this work? Do I need to invite you in?”

The old guy scoffs and simply walks into my apartment. Louis shrugs half-apologetically.

“Wendell, I would like you to meet my friend Daniel Molloy.”

I bow to him and his friend, and unnecessarily add, “Please do come in, Messieurs Vampires.”

Louis winks at me and makes a show of stepping over my threshold. He looks around my place curiously and gives me an approving nod.

“Looks cosy, Wendell.”

Bruno chooses this moment to come sauntering around the corner of my kitchen counter and stops dead when he sees we have visitors. Still being the timid little thing that he is, he freezes for a moment, then bolts, hiding under my bed.

“Please make yourself comfortable. Mi casa es su casa.” It actually literally is, but never mind that. It’s also quite unnecessary because the older vampire – Daniel – has already sat down on my sofa.

“Daniel, this is Wendell Dupree, my friend.”

I have to admit, I’m a bit chuffed that Louis introduces me as “his friend”. Maybe it’s just for a lack of a better phrase – “my former blood donor” just doesn’t have the same ring to it – but it’s still nice to hear. I’ve not had that many friends in my life.

“Don’t mind him,” I can hear Louis’ voice continue in my mind. It still freaks me out when he does that. “Sometimes I fear that he lost the last bit of his manners when he was turned.”

Out loud he says, “Thank you, Wendell, and since you’re wondering, we already fed back at the house.”

“AB negative; it was delicious,” Daniel adds. He’s taking up my entire sofa, which isn’t big, so it’s not a difficult task.

“Would you be okay if I left you two alone?” I can hear Louis’ voice in my head again. “Lestat and I have… plans…” With his last unspoken words come some mental images flooding into my brain and I involuntarily suck in some air. Jay-zuhs… talk about TMI…

Louis giggles and I can hear his apology in my head. “Sorry about that. I promise you’ll be perfectly safe with Daniel. He’s still very young but he’s controlling his urges very well.”

I can’t help but raise an eyebrow that Daniel is “very young”. Louis chuckles again at my thoughts. “Young in vampire years. Once you’ve been born to darkness, your mortal age ceases to be of importance. Daniel’s lover is more than 500 years old, in the body of a twenty-something. He doesn’t look much older than you are now.”

Wow… quite the age gap.

“Yes, they’re occasionally turning some mortal heads,” Louis confirms.

“Unlike you and Frenchie, of course,” Daniel retorts from the sofa. Sounds like he’s listening in on Louis’ private conversation with me. Part of me is amused that Daniel called Lestat “Frenchie”. I’m starting to like him.

Not for the first time today, my thoughts wander to Rashid. He’s older than me and I wonder how much older. Something makes me look up, maybe a noise – a hiss? – and I catch the two vampires exchanging a look.

“Oh fuck off, Louis… your boy here will be fine. I just wanted to meet your little prodigy in person. Now go get your husband. We both know that “patience” is not exactly a word in his vocabulary.”

Louis squeezes my shoulder lightly, and looks at me enquiringly. I nod in answer. I don’t know why but I somehow trust Daniel. I also know that Louis wouldn’t knowingly put me in danger. That first time, well, that’s drifted down the Mississippi. I’m hit with a gust of wind as Louis dashes out my apartment and I’m left alone with Daniel.

“If you think those images were bad… try living with them when you have supernatural hearing.”

He shakes his head in mock-exasperation and I laugh. I actually think it’s quite cute that Louis and Lestat are still so into each other after being married for so long. From some offhand remarks, I gathered that they were separated for a while and that their reunion only happened around the time Lestat started out as a rockstar, but they’re still couple goals if you ask me.

I realize this is probably the moment where I should offer refreshments to my guest but my neck is off the menu and I don’t have anything in the fridge that would entice a vampire.

“So, you live with Louis and Lestat now?” I ask instead.

“Nah, just visiting,” Daniel replies, shifting on my sofa. “My asshole maker and I live up in New York.”

I think he only means to sound grumpy but really isn’t. Why would he live with his maker if he is an asshole? Louis also mentioned Daniel’s lover, and I deduce it’s the same person. Maybe because I’m so used to Lestat being Louis’ maker. Daniel is the first vampire I meet other than my favourite power couple and it makes me curious.

“Do you mind if I grab a drink for myself?” I ask Daniel and he just waves while he’s pulling a laptop, that looks a bit worse for wear, out of his bag and switches it on. I walk over to my fridge, grab a Diet Coke and then pull out my bean bag from out of the corner to sit down on it opposite Daniel, who’s busy doing something on his laptop.

“So, why did you want to meet me? Unless it’s because Louis was raving about my blood being the best he’s ever had. Which I’m not offering. I’m kind of out of the business.”

Daniel snickers, not lifting his eyes from the computer screen. He’s taken off his sunglasses and his eyes are an intense orange. I’m fascinated.

“No, thanks, I’m good. Louis didn’t even mention your blood, sorry to disappoint.” He looks me over. “So, were you one of his walking snack bars? Sorry, if you thought you were the only one. I remember a guy called Damek in Dubai. I’m sure there were others.”

It sounds like Daniel knows quite a bit about my vampire friends. I’m really intrigued.

“Nah, never thought I was the only one. Although Louis never mentioned anyone else. He’s discreet.” I always assumed there were more of us. For starters, Louis needs to feed every night and one person simply can’t provide enough blood for that. I saw blood bags in their fridge and I know they occasionally hunt, but at least Louis seems to be more comfortable if he can pay people for their services.

“Yeah, you have to probe him a bit to get him talking… I should know…”

“Anyhow…” He says, sitting back on my sofa again. “What Louis did tell me is that you’re a smart kid. Good at research. He said you’re exactly who I need.”

“Good at research?” I’m baffled. Where does this come from? I’ve never done any research.

He leans a little forward.

“He said you figured out in like two seconds who he was and who Lestat was. Without even knowing about my books.”

“Your books?” I stupidly confirm my ignorance. Daniel smiles and nods.

“Exactly…” He turns his laptop around to reveal a picture of himself wearing his sunglasses, a black leather jacket and a band T-shirt holding up two books: “Interview with the Vampire” and “The Vampire Lestat”. I can see Daniel’s name printed on the covers.

“Wow… that’s so cool!” I’m clearly contradicting Louis’ sentiment here that I’m a smart kid. I sound about as smart as Forest Gump. Hey, I had a long day, okay? Feeling like I should maybe explain a little further, I add: “I didn’t actually do any research. I just went through some newspaper clippings I still had kept from my childhood days and recognized Louis as the guy Lestat was caught with making out on the dancefloor.”

“That’s what research is, Wendell. Going through some old paperwork until you find the necessary information.”

I shrug. If you want to put it that way… I guess so.

“I’m working on a new book. Nothing to do with vampires this time. It’s more…” he hesitates. “Let’s call it personal interest. I can do most of my research online thanks to this little fucker called “the Internet” but sometimes I need to go to a library or an archive and they’re often inconveniently closed during the night. I want to interview some people and I think they’re more likely to open up to you than to a weird old grandpa that insists on meeting at night.”

He gives me a long look. “I need someone I can trust, someone who knows about my condition and doesn’t care.”

I stare at him. If this is what I think it is, it’s my second job offer in less than 36 hours. What the fuck is going on? It takes me a moment to find my voice again.

“So, what you’re saying is… you need a Renfield?”

Daniel shrugs but there’s a twinkle in his eyes. “If that’s who you want to see yourself as.”

I ponder what he said. He seems like a cool guy, I’m sure working with him would be fun. But I’m not a journalist. Doing research in a library? Interviewing people? I don’t know the first thing about it. I quit high school before graduating. I can read and write and do basic maths alright but I don’t have any skills needed for what he asks me to do and I tell him as much.

Daniel shakes his head resolutely. ““I disagree. I think you do. You’re curious. You ask the right questions. And you listen. You care about others. I can see that. And you’re brave. You know what I am, and you didn’t even flinch when Louis asked if he could leave you alone with me. You know I could kill you in a heartbeat, snap your neck or drain you.”

I let out a snort. “Some would call this stupid, not brave.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you can read people. You trust Louis, and you trust me.” It’s a simple statement. “Reading people, asking questions, being curious, listening. Those are skills you need as a journalist. The rest…” Daniel makes a dismissive gesture. “I can teach you the rest.”

I’m still unconvinced, and he can tell.

“Look, here are a few titles that I want to use as the basis for my new book. It’s not an easy subject, so have a look if it’s something you’d be interested in working on. I think you can do it. We can talk about specifics and your payment later.”

He pushes a sheet of paper towards me. I read the first few titles and I can’t really believe what I’m seeing.

• Youth Homelessness and Survival Sex
• Confronting Sexual Exploitation of Homeless Youth
• Labor and Sex Trafficking among Homeless Youth
• The Intersection of Child Sex Trafficking and Youth Homelessness
• A Risk Profile Comparison of Homeless Youth Involved in Prostitution and Homeless Youth not Involved

“Is this a fucking joke? Did Louis put you up to this? Fucking hell…”

I shoot up from my beanbag and toss the paper back at him. I really wanted to throw it in his face. I feel sick. I want to throw him out, but he only reminded me that he can kill me in a heartbeat, so I swallow what’s on my mind. 

He just sits there and looks at me. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Read it on my fucking mind, you’re a fucking vampire!” My temper is slowly getting the better of me.

“I think mind reading is quite rude, so I try to avoid it.”

“You read my mind earlier; no need to be delicate about it now!” I snarl back at him, his cool demeanour grating on my nerves.

“Touché. Well, technically I was reading his mind while he was reading yours…”

“That was fucking me!” I’m yelling now. I pick up the piece of paper, and this time I throw it in his face. Well, trying to. Have you ever tried to throw a piece of paper? It never goes where you want it to go. Kind of diminishes the dramatic effect.

“Homeless youth involved in prostitution! That was fucking me! I ran away from home when I was 16, and before I was 17, I’d had more men inside me than a prison riot.” 

Daniel looks at me calmly, and it makes my blood boil. Bruno peeks out from under the bed to look at me with wide open eyes. I turn away, sucking in air, desperately trying to gain control again.

Fucking hell, Louis, what were you thinking? Memories in a surge of pictures are flooding my brain. I’m shaking, my muscles are spasming, and I can’t seem to get enough air. Slowly, very slowly, I manage to force my breathing to become more regular and even. I collapse on my beanbag and bury my head between my knees.

I don’t care that Daniel still watches me and what he might think of me. 

“Did you do it for drugs?” Daniel’s voice is calm and factual.

“No, I don’t do drugs.” My voice sounds dead and defeated. The last bit of energy drained out of me. Fucking vampires…

“I did.”

I can hear Daniel’s voice, but his words don’t quite reach my brain.

“What…?” 

“It was years ago when I was younger. Maybe the age you’re now. How old are you, Wendell?

“23.”

“I was an addict. I would go with anyone – do anyone – if they had drugs for me. Sometimes I was so high and out of it that I don’t even remember what I did or who I did it with.”

“I wish I could say the same.”

“Trust me, you don’t.”

There’s a moment of silence between us, the revelation of our common experience hanging in the air.

“When did you stop?” 

“September 23rd. Two years ago. Gave a guy a handjob so I could afford the bus ride to my sister’s house.”

“Make sense.” Daniel comments dryly, and I snort before he continues: “Look, man, I’m sorry. Louis didn’t mention any of this to me. I should have guessed. He does have a type.”

I look up at him from between my knees. Daniel takes a deep breath.

“It’s how I met Louis.”

“You fucked Louis?” 

Daniel blows out a breath. “Unfortunately not. Not for a lack of trying on my part. But he gave me drugs.”

“He gave me his blood once.” My voice still sounds hollow.

“Similar effect,” Daniel replies matter-of-factly.

He sighs before he goes on: “I would have approached you differently if I had known, Wendell. But I get now why Louis thought you’d be perfect for the job. And I agree with him. It might even help you. It clearly still affects you a lot. And believe me: Knowing is better than not knowing.”

He looks at me, and I can see sympathy in his eyes.

“But the decision is entirely yours. Think about it. Take as much time as you need and then get back to me.”

He pushes a business card towards me on the table. Gosh, what’s with all the déjà vu’s lately? I eye Bruno who’s hiding behind a storage box. “You’re cue, buddy.”

“Think about it. I mean it. I’d love to work with you.” 

I nod. I’ll think about it. It’s not like I have any other job offers to think about.

Daniel gets up and gives me a light pat on the shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Wendell.”

I nod again, too wiped out to even offer showing him to the door. I’m a terrible host. I hear the door close behind Daniel. Bruno still keeps his distance. I stare at Daniel’s piece of paper and then turn it around so it’s face down. Not today. After all, tomorrow is another day.

I pick up my phone from the counter where it’s been sitting all day and fall onto my bed. Enough. This day’s just been enough. I’m dreading sleep and the nightmares I’m sure it’ll bring. I give my phone a little nudge, and it budges across my bed sheet.

It’s really been unusually quiet today. I put my thumb on the fingerprint sensor to unlock it, but nothing happens. I try again, frowning. Did the battery run out? Couldn’t have been; I charged it last night when I got back, didn’t I? I try to remember. Then it hits me. I switched it off at Josie’s last night. I never switched it back on. No wonder it’s been so quiet all day.

OMG, Dupree, you fucking idiot.