august 21st, 2019 1:24 a.m.

Hunger woke him.

He woke with an instant grimace, his fangs already prodding at the inside of his lips, a sharp pain twisting in his stomach as if someone had filled it with gasoline and set it alight. He stepped from a dull world into one that exploded with color, and it exhausted him.

The lights above him were bright, too bright. He heard voices. Laughter. The crackling of fire. Glasses clinking together, car horns honking outside, stilettos on wood floors. Sound. Color. Pain. That was all that existed.

He clawed his fingers, trying to drag himself upright. His nails scratched against leather—authentic leather, he thought. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest as he pulled himself to a sitting position; he blinked tears from his eyes, and looked around.

He was in a room he didn't recognize. One wall was brick; the rest were painted dark gray. Yellow-orange flames licked at the fire place installed in the brick wall, tossing golden hues about the otherwise dark place. The furniture was black and red, the coffee table glass. Tree limbs scraped at the nearest window. A second floor apartment? he wondered. Sera's?

Sera. The name was like a bullet in his brain. He should never have trusted her. He should never had said a word to her.

Another car horn blared in Julien's ears. He cried out, biting down on his lip. A trickle of blood dribbled down his chin.

Whatever she'd given him had ruined him. He felt as though almost every drop of his blood had been drained from his body. He was empty, powerless, half-dead. Most of all, he was alone.

Except, he heard footsteps. Footsteps and voices, both getting nearer and nearer to his location. He tried to stand, to spring to his feet, but staggered. As he caught himself against the coffee table, Seraphine Kozlov stepped into the room.

She was not alone, but with two others: a man and a woman, so uncannily similar that it didn't take Julien very long to figure out they were twins.

Sera gave Julien a brief once-over. "Oh no," she said. "There's no way I can show you to them like this. Perhaps I dosed you too heavy?"

Julien's voice no longer sounded like his own. "What the hell are you doing, Sera?" he snarled, collapsing back against the couch with a grunt. Pain surged through him again in distinct spindles. "Where am I? What did you put in that wine?"

The male twin leaned over Sera's shoulder, his lips nearly brushing her neck. Julien was disgusted to find a simmer of jealousy rise in his chest. "This one asks a lot of questions," he said, a heavy Russian accent coloring each of his words. "Are you sure about him?"

Sera turned her head sharply, gripping the man's chin with an iron grasp. "Vanya," she said, voice ever so smooth, "are you questioning me?"

He shook his head. "No. Of course not."

Sera's smile oozed falsity. She let him go. "Didn't think so."

Julien gritted his teeth, his fangs poking at his bottom lip, as Sera crossed the room to him, crouching before the sofa. This close, he could smell her, like vanilla and salt, poison and pleasure. A low moan escaped his mouth as she traced her fingers along his cheek, his jaw, his lips. "Poor Jule," she said, and he didn't know why he almost thought he saw genuine sorrow in her blue eyes. "I really hate to do this to you, but I didn't know how else to get you to listen."

"Why..." Julien exhaled; his words all came out as a croak. "Why do I feel...like this?"

Her fingers were in his hair now. "Arsenic," she said. "I figured it wouldn't kill you; you're already dead. But it sure as hell would hurt, wouldn't it?"

Julien closed his eyes. "I...hate you."

But even he knew that wasn't true.

Sera got to her feet again. "Irina," Sera said, presumably in reference to the female twin. "Bring in the girl."

Irina nodded, her blunt red bob swinging as she did. Julien heard a door open and shut again, and then there was silence.

How brief it was.

Julien heard her heartbeat—rapid, terrified—before he heard her screams. The door crashed open again; thrashing in Irina's grasp was a young girl, not much older than seventeen. Her eyes were wide, brown, oozing of youth and purity. When she opened her mouth to scream again, Irina promptly slammed a hand over it. "Sleep," she hissed at the girl, and the girl went boneless in Irina's arms.

Sera gave Irina a silent nod of approval, taking the girl from her. Julien squeezed his eyes shut, trying in vain to roll away. He couldn't do this again. He'd promised himself he'd never do this again. But the hunger was all-consuming. It was all he saw, all he felt, all he heard. It would be so easy, it said. It would be so easy to drink from her, wouldn't it?

It would be so easy.

"Shh," said Sera, her voice right in his ear. He struggled away, but she yanked him back, closing her hand around his bicep. "Don't fight me. Come on now, just have a sip. I have people I need you to meet, after all. I can't have you staggering around in front of them."

"No," Julien said. It didn't come out as combative as he'd intended; it sounded like a plea, probably because it was. He twisted, he writhed, he did everything he could to get away from her, but she held fast. She was holding the girl out to him now like a peace offering, the girl's head rolled to the side, exposing the graceful slope of her neck.

It would be so easy.

Her pulse pounded in his ears.

It would be so easy.

He was reaching for her.

It would be so...

"That's it," said Sera, as Julien took the young thing in his arms, his hand gently cradling her head, her chest lifted to his. "I promise you. It stops hurting. It stops hurting right away."

Everything was loud. The light in his eyes, the girl's beating heart in his ears, the feel of her warm skin underneath his fingers. He was drowning, and when he lifted her neck to his mouth and sank in his teeth, he could breathe again.

It was water after days spent wandering through a desert. It was rain after a ceaseless drought. It was the embrace of a loved one after not seeing them for years on end. It was therapy; it was destruction. It was a blessing; it was a curse.

Julien shoved the girl away, jumping to his feet again. She slumped to the floor, two perfect little punctures upon her carotid.

"Julien—"

"No," he said. This time it came out as he wanted it: more of a growl than a word. "No, Sera—no. How could you? You know I don't—how could you?"

Sera was smiling. It was an awful smile, but only because it was beautiful. "I didn't do a thing," she said. "I didn't do a thing, Jule. You know that."

He hesitated, such a vibrant wave of frustration and disgust rising in him that he tasted it like rancid milk on his tongue. He turned and flung the window open, the sounds of the night rushing in along with the cool air.

He expected her to stop him, but Sera only watched him go.

As he fled, it began to rain.

Julien hardly noticed. He was prowling the empty streets, without a jacket or a hat or anything to keep himself dry, but he hardly noticed. His hair clung to his forehead, soaked his clothes, hung in his eyelashes. He heard it as it drained into the sewers, pattered upon hotel awnings, dripped from window ledges. The rain did nothing to allay the lingering scent of the girl's blood. Though he was soaked enough hat he couldn't see her blood on his shirt anymore, he could still smell it, like vitality and youth, like the worst mistake he would ever make. He was sick. He was the sickest and healthiest he had ever been, all at once.

Julien had no idea where he was. Wherever Sera had taken him, it was far away from his townhouse. He was walking an unfamiliar street at an ungodly hour with absolutely nothing to show for it. It was quite possibly the worst night of his life.

Only he spoke too soon.

He was so out of it that he didn't notice the door to a fast food restaurant swing open as he passed it. Neither did he notice the person who walked out, not until he slammed right into them and a small order of fries splayed across the damp concrete.

Julien staggered back, wiping rain from his eyes.

"Jules?"

A dart shot through his chest. He looked up, and locked eyes with Iman.

"Why are you...covered in blood?"