My Guardian Vampire

As soon as the door was shut, I turned and briskly walked to the wall before placing my head against it, the brick scratchy and cool. If my friends only knew how much they meant to me…

I heard someone walk up behind me, and felt the warm slip of a hand on my shoulder. Looking up, I saw Mike’s blues gazing at me. “Hey, when’s the last time you eaten? If I remember correctly, pregnant mothers are supposed to be garbage disposals, especially with how far along you are. How about we go take a walk and get a bite to eat?”

At the mention of food, I felt a small movement in my stomach—the baby kicked, apparently hungry. I placed my hand over my stomach, rubbing it gently, as if to communicate with the baby that it was okay. I nodded to Mike, turning around. “Yes, please, let’s go. I’m starving.”

“Needy humans,” he laughed. I smacked him gently, and I heard a small chuckle from the side of us.

“You two going on a date?” I looked over, and James was standing there, eyeing us. I couldn’t help but make a disgusted face, the reaction involuntary.

“Not funny, James.”

“I’m not sure I meant that as a joke.” He shrugged nonchalantly—the casualness of it irritating me.

“James?” Jenn asked, stepping out from the hallway. “C’mon, don’t tease Ali.”

“I wasn’t teasing,” he said, shrugging again, turning away from me. “But whatever. Their right to deny the obvious.” James then left the room, brushing past Jenn.

“James…” Jenn said, her face falling. She then looked over at me, conflicted.

“I’m sure he’s just trying to be helpful,” I said, though without any real confidence behind my voice.

“He doesn’t know you and Gerard,” Mike said, his voice with as much vigor as my own. Jenn nodded, and with an apologetic look, left the room. I could feel the air dramatically shift next to me, and looked over to Mike—he suddenly had my jacket in hand.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been going out in the cold without this. I don’t want to tell you what to wear, but… It’s started snowing, and you’ve been so wrapped up in things lately, I doubt you’d notice if an avalanche fell on your head.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, grabbing it. Maybe normally I would’ve refused, as I typically ran hot, but… Well, the baby made things different.

Shrugging on the jacket, Mike and I walked outside, our breath instantly appearing from our mouths as he opened the door. It was snowing—what was so wrong with me that I hadn’t noticed the cold?

“You’ve had a lot on your mind, Ali,” Mike said, smiling sympathetically down at me. Before I could interject, he held his hand up. “No, I didn’t read your mind. You’re a pretty readable person, even for a human.”

“Shut up,” I laughed, embarrassed. Mike chuckled quietly, reserved as ever, and held up his crooked elbow in offering. I slipped my arm through it, unhesitating. It was hard to get used to the difference between humans and vampires even after all this time—humans radiating heat, while they all had a much dimmer effect, if any. In the cold, though, you could at least tell there was something warm inside them.

“Remember that Thai place you used to order from when you were here? The one that sent you the little rubber duck as a gift for ordering so often?"

"They were the only ones open the full night while you three were awake..." I murmured abashedly. Mike breathed a laugh beneath his breath, smiling.

"It's not too far away. I mean, it’s not the best, but there’s not much great you can get this late. I figured it would do.” I immediately beamed with joy, and felt the baby kick a little in anticipation. It was largely quiet and still—not too unusual for the outskirts of the city, but still odd to fathom, even in the winter. A few people walked by us here and there, but no one paid us any mind, even as I peeped out an excited note.

A memory then struck me, confusing me.

“Wait… I thought you hated the smell of Thai? You always used to complain back then when I’d order it.” Mike shrugged, looking up at the black above us, seeming to watch the slow descent of white as we walked.

“You used to say it was because they were the only thing open, and then that you felt endeared to after they gave you the duck, but... I know it’s your favorite.”

I felt a gentle warmth spread through me, touched by the sentiment. “Aw, Mike, you remembered…”

“And you remembered I hate it,” he said, looking down at me with that kind smile. No, I didn’t feel anything for Mike in that way, but that gaze… Well, it made my cheeks flush. Looking down, I hoped Mike thought it only was from the cold. James’s words then rang in my ears: ‘You two going on a date?’ I knew this had to be hurting Mike, and while I might not want to have brought it up out of awkwardness… Well, I had learned my lesson these past couple years about staying silent.

“Look, Mike, about what James said-”

“I don’t know if I trust James, Ali,” Mike said suddenly, cutting me off and catching me off guard. “He just… gives me an odd feeling. And I’ve learned over the past 200 years to trust that odd feeling.” We walked in silence for a moment as I digested this.

“I… I think he’s changed,” I began slowly, trying to draw out my thoughts. “I mean, obviously physically from being a vampire, but… I don’t know. Jenn’s changed a little too, but it doesn't feel the same kind of change. And yet… I mean, I’ve known James for most of my life. It’s hard for me to imagine anything nefarious from him; it doesn’t make sense. Especially considering Jenn and I are such good friends, and he seems to have a thing with Jenn.”

Mike nodded, but didn’t seem assured. “I suppose you’d know better than I regarding his character. As long as you trust him, I will too.” For some reason, the sentiment made me fidget.

“You don’t mean that in a ‘because you’re my boss’ like-way, right? I don’t want you agreeing with me just because my last name changed to Cryptcardé-“

“Cryptcardé?!”

A man, haggard and pale, was looking at me from across the street, his face alert. I looked over at Mike, confused, and he shrugged. Had our conversation been that loud?

“Ah… Yes?”

In an instant, he was in front of me, grabbing my hand. Mike intervened, quickly pulling our hands apart as he stepped in between us, forcing some distance.

“What do you want?” Mike asked, his tone low and cold. The guy gaped, looking between Mike and I. Up close, he looked gaunt, eyes dark and body looking thin and fragile. There had been nothing fragile about that grip, though, even for the brief instant it was there.

“N-nothing bad, man. I’m starving here. I know Billie doesn’t do the rounds himself anymore, but he always set it up—and recently there’s been nothin’. We’re dyin’ in the streets, and we don’t wanna do nothin’ bad, but it’s getting hard out here, man.”

“Shit,” Mike cursed softly, and then gave a side glance to me. “There’s a reason you’re needed here, Mrs. Cryptcarde. I mean, I’ve been trying to handle things…” I stood there, confused for a moment, before realization finally struck.

‘Billie’s role as leader was more than people just following,’ I thought. ‘People were depending on him—and now are depending on me. And Mike’s been trying to handle that weight—the weight that’s supposed to be mine—all alone, on top of dealing with the rest of my shit.’

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Cryptcarde,” he said. He looked as if he really meant it, despite his desperation. “I’m just so… I’m just so…” he trailed, and his gaze, previously glazed over, began to focus. “I’m just so hungry.” Then something about his disposition began to…alter, and I noticed he began to lean in towards me, forcing Mike’s grip to rehold. “Hey, Mrs. Cryptcarde, you smell almost…human.”

Mike held him back as the man continued to try to step towards me, poorly concealed panic on his face. “She just ate. Don’t be stupid. Plus, she’s got a baby. You know how it is with pregnancies.” Mike physically pushed the man back, but it seemed difficult, even for Mike. After a second of struggling, I heard something similar to a crack, saw the man’s head turn sharply…

And then it turned back, and the man’s eyes looked at Mike. I blew out a breath, my heart struggling to catch up. Mike succeeded in pushing the man back some.

“Sorry, man, you know I don’t like to hurt people if I don’t have to. I know you’re craving, and I can help you out with that. I can’t have you doing anything bad to Billie’s Misses—and a punch would be a lot less hurtful than what he’d do to you should you lay a finger on his wife.”

“Yeah…” he said, rubbing a cheek that was starting to swell up slightly. His eyes then flickered back to me. “Sorry,” he said, though this time I didn’t feel he meant it as much—his gaze, instead, intensely thoughtful. It was then that I felt the slow, fuzzy creeping feeling of the fog begin to try to drift in my mind. I prayed to God my mind wasn’t letting it in, doing my best to push against it. Panicked, I immediately struck an angry expression.

“Are you seriously trying to read my mind?” I said, doing my best to fill my voice with indignant attitude. “Do you not trust a Cryptcardé? Or are you a Jersey boy, pretending to be a New Yorker-”

“Fuck no,” he said, looking appalled at the suggestion. “I just wanted to be sure-”

“Well, be sure. Now, I am sorry that we’ve been slacking, but…” I then looked down at my stomach pointedly. “We’ve been busy, no pun intended. I’m really sorry people are feeling the effects of that; I’ll make sure to kick Billie’s ass in gear.”

“Nono, I mean, I understand…” he said, now seeming much more mollified. “I’m sorry. I’m not right in the head. I don’t mean to trouble you guys. I’m just gonna go-”

“No way,” Mike said, turning him around and placing his arm around his shoulders. “We’re not Jersey; we don’t leave people high and dry. Let me just drop the Misses off somewhere a bit safer, and I’ll show you where we’ve been going lately for bag hits.” The guy stuttered through thankful words as Mike led him on. His arm over his shoulders seemed friendly, but I knew it was only superficial at the moment—he wanted to steer the guy at a distance away from me. I followed a little behind, hugging my jacket a little closer to me, attempting to keep out the cold—and praying the guy wouldn’t get wise.

Once we got to the restaurant, Mike opened the door for me, ushering me inside. He smiled to the man. “Please, wait out here while I get Mrs. Cryptcarde all set. You think you can hang in there?” The man looked at me for a moment, before nodding shakily. Mike and I stepped in. The place was a spark of sunshine in the night—yellow walls and bright lighting made my eyes water and wince. Mike nodded to a woman behind the counter, who smiled nervously in return as her eyes scanned us both. We sat down in the back, sliding into a booth.

“What… What do we do, Mike? What was all that?” Mike frowned, looking antsy, but then drew a short breath, his tone lowering to a whisper.

“Don’t worry, I got this. Look, I don’t have much time, so I’ll try to explain this quick. Blood and vampires… It’s not like the movies. It’s…” he ran his hand through his mess of blonde hair, sighing. “Well, it’s hard to convey. Blood is more than food—it’s a drug, like heroin. Stronger than any opiate a human could imagine. And the fresher the source of blood, the more ‘pure’ in quality it is. Blood bags are usually so far removed from the source, it’s like what clinics use for people going through withdrawals: it won’t get you high, but it’ll keep you alive and away from withdrawals. That being said…” he then smiled softly, his gaze turning from the table to me. “Most vampires, even the old ones, still have their humanity fully intact. Those that don’t… Well, they don’t survive long. We learned that in the old ages of mobs with pitchforks and flame. No one wants to be a monster, or a killer. They do what they have to, to survive, sure—but if there’s an alternative, most would take it. So this is a guy who hasn’t had either the drug or the safer withdrawal medicine in some time. He’s a guy that’s about to fall off the wagon”

“Can they even get blood bags? Most people, I mean?”

“Yes… and no. I mean, I’ve been trying…” Mike’s fist noticeably tensed, and I put my hand soothingly over his clenched one.

“This is what you wanted me to come to New York for in the beginning, right? This is a shitload to try to manage.” Mike looked away, though didn’t move his hand from mine, what I could catch of his expression appearing ashamed. “I’m sure you could handle it on your own too,” I quickly followed, “but it’s not fair for you to. We’re friends, and we’re in this together. I’m realizing I’ve been a pretty shitty friend all around, and I’m sorry Mike. But we’ll figure this out, okay?”

Mike nodded, smiling, though he didn’t look at me directly as he did so. He slipped his hand out from underneath mine, and moved out from the booth and stood. “Right. We will. But I can’t keep this guy waiting for much longer. You’ll be fine here—I shouldn’t be too long.”

“What… What do I do? Is it safe to eat?” Mike nodded, looking out the window, distracted.

“Yes. I’m sorry we haven’t gotten to talk much about it. Even a pregnant vampire would eat human stuff to keep the baby alive, if I remember correctly. It really doesn’t happen too often; most vampires wouldn’t risk bringing a human into the world.”

I nodded, feeling uneasy at Mike’s distractedness, sensing something amiss but unable to place my finger on it. “Good luck, Mike. Arrivadenci, y a presto.” At the note of Italian, Mike’s eyes returned to me, and I caught hint of a genuine smile beneath all the worry.

“Italian sounds beautiful from your mouth. I hope I can teach my mother tongue to you someday soon, Ali.” The hint of smile evaporated, replaced by a look I couldn’t identify, but made me feel ill inside. “See you in a bit. Please wait here and eat.”

Mike walked out of the door without a second look, and was gone from sight as soon as the door closed, likely flashing away with the man to get him something to eat. The lady from behind the counter quickly walked over to me.

“Order?” she asked with a smile, appearing to do her best to be polite with English not as her first language. Her smile was still as nervous as it had been since we first walked in the door. I smiled back, trying to set her at ease. It seemed to have the opposite effect.

“Ah…” I said, looking around. She hadn’t given me a menu, but I figured asking would only up her anxiety. “Yellow curry with beef, and a side of white rice, please? And tea? I’m very hungry,” I said, patting my stomach, chuckling awkwardly. She took a step back. It started to feel like everything I did to put her at ease only had the opposite effect. She nodded and quickly moved away, walking to the kitchen. Not too long after, she came out with the tea, setting it on the table quickly.

“Thank you,” I murmured, giving up on trying to calm her.

“You’re welcome Mrs. Cryptcardé,” she said, nodding before turning back towards the kitchen. As much as I didn’t want to put her into a heart attack, I held up my hand, trying to get her to pause before she ran off.

“Wait, I’m sorry, but how’d you know my name?”

“I…” she started, and looked back towards the kitchen, clearly wishing to be as far away as possible. “Billie ordered a long time ago from here a few times. Mike pick orders up. Then Billie bought here.”

“’Bought here?’” I asked, confused, before a slimy realization hit, leaving a bad taste in my mouth. “Billie bought the restaurant.” It wasn’t a question. As much as I appreciated Billie, that creepy side of him still resonated as wrong with me. Did he make them gift me the duck as well? That'd be just... Gross.

She nodded. “Yes. We like Billie, but he won’t come now. We’re worried he stopped liking the food.” I quickly shook my head.

“No, it’s not that at all. I’m the one that was ordering, I love your food. I… I was just laying off of it after I got pregnant, at the beginning. Was… Was it bad for him to buy the restaurant from you? Did you all want to sell?” She seemed to hesitate, but relaxed, if only a little, taking the time to choose her words carefully.

“Not at first,” she said. “Many bad people in New York try to take advantage of immigrants. Last person we rented from wasn’t as terrible, but not good. When Billie bought it, we were worried. But he left us alone and made rent what it should be—what it is for non-immigrants. Not so high and with legal insurance.”

No, Billie Joe wasn’t some white knight—but he was fair. That relaxed me a little, too, making some of the slimy feeling go away. I felt—hoped—that he also saw they were being taken advantage of, and went to fix it. I knew it couldn't be the only reason; he'd have to buy nearly all of New York if he tried to make a dent in the inequality that one could see on a night stroll here. So... Maybe not too bad, but still creepy as fuck that he'd buy a place because I liked it.

“Okay,” I said, smiling. “I’m sorry I kept you.” She waved off my concern before quickly heading back. I wasn’t sure how much of it was true, and how much of it was her smartly schmoozing the wife of the owner. As I watched her leave, I placed my chin on my fist, frowning. Human-world problems seemed so far away with all the insanity of vampire life; I’d hoped things like gentrification wouldn’t exist in a mostly vampire-inhabited area. Apparently human sins were really hard to kill, even in the undead life.

And I had just sat there, blind to it all, getting high and eating Thai food. I could see the slogan now: ‘Yes, vote Ali, human president of the New York vampires. Pregnant, alone, without a high school degree, and indifferent to the suffering of others: the best person for the job.’

I placed my forehead to my palm, closing my eyes tightly as I let out a soft groan. Purely self-pitying, I murmured to myself: “All I wanted to do was take a walk in the woods to leave my abusive house. How the fuck did I end up here?”

“How indeed?”