Dudley’s idea of a restaurant was different from mine. The place had atmosphere. The walls were papered in dark red brocade and the seats were upholstered in black velvet. Each table was lit by a single chandelier hanging over it. The tablecloth itself was red with a black fringe.

And he thought the place I wanted to take him was creepy.

He seemed to do a quick reading of my thoughts and before he commented, “This isn’t a drug nest. Neither is it a vampire hangout. This is probably one of the safest places to talk in the city. It’s run by Russians.”

“Really?” I asked skeptically. “So why did you want to bring me here specifically? Is there something you need privacy to say?”

“Do you only like privacy some of the time?”

“No,” I said, feeling foolish.

He eyed me carefully and let the subject pass. “Your name is Sweeper? That’s quite unusual.”

I started playing with a lock of my hair and flat out refused to answer such a stupid question. Of course, that was my name. What game was he playing?

“I still can’t shake the idea that I know you from somewhere. My first name is Tate. Does that ring any bells with you?”

I tapped my fingers on the table and pretended to think, but I knew that if it didn’t ring any bells in two seconds, it wasn’t going to. With no bells ringing in my head, I looked at the ceiling to buy some time. He probably didn’t remember me from anything other than the case of Schroder and London. He was trying to get me into a position where I had to admit what I knew, but I was not falling for it and there was no way I had met this stony-faced man before. He wasn’t going to corner me.

“If we’ve met before then I’m sorry—I don’t remember you,” I said after a lengthy interval.

Then suddenly his eyes went wide. It was only for a moment, but from that single unguarded moment, he betrayed his thoughts. He honestly didn’t know who I was before and now he had made the connection.

I sat still and kept my expression neutral. 

Could I go to jail for killing Schroder back then? Probably not. What I did was illegal, but killing a vampire wasn’t on par with murdering a human. In a way, it was a public service, like returning a corpse to the cemetery. If I got caught by the cops, there was no problem. They were reasonable. 

What I was worried about was illegal retribution. It sounded like the vampire who hired Marshall was too lazy to track down London himself. In that case, could it be that he was too lazy to take care of the revenge of ending London’s legacy himself? If that were true, then Marshall and Dudley could have been asked to kill her. The only thing I needed to do was make sure that no one found my sister. That would be enough as long as they didn’t find out it was actually me who killed Schroder.

“What were you like when you were a teenager?” Dudley asked, leaning back in his chair and pulling out the makings for a cigarette. Actually, he wasn’t even looking at me.

“Excuse me?” I asked. I was confused. How much did he know? Did he know more about the case than I suspected? I should have looked closer at that file before I gave it back to Marshall.  I should have xeroxed it.

Dudley’s eyes shone with interest as he went on. “Were you a loner or a diva or…” he hesitated, “a tomboy?”

My eyes narrowed. I actually was a tomboy, but how did he know to ask that? “I was boring. What were you like?” I asked evasively.

To my surprise, he answered clearly—even elaborating a little. “I was a loner, so alone, actually, that I remember my best friends were the girls who lived next door.”

“Did they talk to you?”

“One of them did.”

Just then my mobile phone rang and I excused myself to answer it. We hadn’t ordered yet anyway, so he could hang on a second. Except it wasn’t really a phone call. It was my alarm bell going off, but Dudley didn’t know that. There are so many ring tones—my alarm bell could be mine. It was set to remind me to wake London up. Usually, if I didn’t wake her, she’d sleep all night and all day and then all night again. She’d never wake up.

However, I was looking for an excuse to duck out on Dudley. Yeah, I did say I was attracted to him earlier, but that was before I saw the file on London. I had to get her sent off that night. If I worked all night, I could get all her stuff out by dawn and then have Dudley over for dinner at my place the next night. He could see that she was nowhere to be found. At least, that was my plan.

I pretended to talk on the phone and then made my way back to the table.

“I’m sorry,” I said apologetically. “I have to go, but how about if I cook you supper tomorrow night to make up for it?”

Dudley stared at me. “Fine, but can’t you have a drink with me before you go?”

I frowned. “I can’t. Are you going to be at the office with Marshall tomorrow?”

“No.”

“That’s too bad. Could you meet me outside his office at five?”

He nodded and I smiled charmingly. At least I hoped it looked charming.

I walked out of the restaurant thinking about him. He was a loner, huh?

***

When I got back to the apartment, I was immediately aware that something was wrong. Did something happen to London?

I ran to her room, threw the door open, and a horrific sight welcomed me.

“Bloody hell!” I exclaimed. 

A man, a human, hovered over London. Splattered blood stained the bedclothes and the carpet. London had slashes on her throat and the guy was wiping the blood off his lips with the back of his hand and then licking it off.

“Piss off!” he shouted.

I pulled my phone out of my bag and yelled, “I’m calling the police.”

The guy looked genuinely spooked and made for the window, but I got a good look at him before he tripped down the fire escape. He was blond with unshaven stubble on his chin and light-colored eyes. Like her last boyfriend, I couldn’t see the attraction. He looked creepy, with dark purple lines under his eyes, but then again, what was there to see except someone who wanted to drink blood? 

Funny though, I didn’t see that when I looked at London.

My sister lay motionless on the bed with a glassy look in her eyes. Actually, she hadn’t looked sharp since before she became a vamp, but this expression was more vacant than usual. Her dark hair curled around her white face and she stared off into space like she hardly noticed my arrival.

I closed the window, locked it, and drew the curtains. Then I went into the bathroom attached to her room and got a bandage to stop her bleeding. Vampire blood didn’t clot at all compared to human blood. After all, a vampire was only two steps from being a corpse. It would take ages for her cuts to close. As I wrapped her wounds, she yanked the blanket out from under her and pulled it over her chest. If she was cold, he must have drunk quite a bit.

I shuddered. What had London done to her body and for what? It would take her over a year to close up, even after she stitched herself shut. Sometimes I thought vampires were more like Frankenstein’s monster than Dracula. Nevertheless, vampire biology fascinated me. For one thing, their digestive system didn’t work. Since London’s body wasn’t taking in any new nutrients she was surviving on what she got from Schroder, eight years ago. There was no new material to rebuild the broken cells. However, even though her heart ceased to beat, her nervous system still worked beautifully. In fact, it vastly surpassed a human’s. The tiny electric current flowing through her allowed her five senses to keep working. It allowed her to feel pain, to feel tired, and to activate killer reflexes—if she had any. Right now, it looked like she was allowing herself to be drained again. Some vampire she was turning out to be.

If she was cold, her electric functions were slowing down, which meant she hadn’t drunk enough of his blood to maintain the status quo.

I whispered quietly, “How much has he drunk? A cup? A liter?”

Silence.

“Two liters?”

She averted her eyes.

I didn’t ask anything after that. She wasn’t going to tell me how close she had come to changing him into a vampire. Instead, I got her suitcase down from her closet.

She gazed at me wearily from the bed. “What are you doing?”

My look could have killed, but she was already dead, so my scowl had no effect on her. “I started working for a private investigator today and when I was going through his files, I found a file on you. There’s a vampire looking for you and Schroder. I don’t want him to find you, so you have to go home until the P.I. closes the case.”

“I can’t go anywhere,” she whispered.

“Why not?”

“Because Garth is here and I have to be with him.”

I was so angry I could spit. I stomped around the room cramming her belongings into the case until it was overflowing. “You’ll die,” I informed her like it was news. “Even if my P.I.’s client doesn’t get you... when this guy Garth becomes a vampire, he’ll kill you.”

“He’s not going to kill me. He has some friends that will protect me.”

I wasn’t surprised by what London said. Nothing she could say would have surprised me at that point. Vampires and humans who are in the love phase will say and do just about anything. It was after the high passed that the dangerous time came, but London was too blind to see it and my hands were tied because the moron she was dating was still a human. Until the recently exiting Garth became a vampire I couldn’t do anything to him. It would be better for everyone if the loser stayed human and left her alone.

Well, at least there was one silver lining on that dark cloud day. London said she had to stay here so she could be with Garth. That made it sound like he wouldn’t be able to follow her out to our parents’ place.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and said, “Listen to me, London. Haven’t I protected you all these years? Can’t you do just one thing for me and go out to Mum and Dad’s without an argument? The private investigator I’m working for—Marshall—is supposed to report your whereabouts to a vampire. What do you think will happen when he does that? Someone will come after you and end your legacy. Please. Put your romance with this guy, Garth, on hold for two minutes. I’ll find a way to get Marshall to drop the case. You might be able to come back to the city within a week.” I didn’t actually believe what I said for a second, but I put my heart into my speech anyway.

London looked tired but otherwise unreadable. It was always like this. I was never sure what she was thinking.

After what felt like an age, she said, “I had actually been thinking of moving out soon anyway, but if you want me to hide out in the country for a few days, I guess I can do that for you. Afterward, I want to move in with Garth.”

I frowned… deeply. I didn’t want London to move in with her sleazy boyfriend who would inevitably kill her if Marshall’s crew didn’t, but I couldn’t decide if I should argue the point now. This was all happening too fast. 

I’d have to cross that bridge when I came to it. The most important thing at that moment was to get London out of the city—away from Marshall. She’d be safer.

I got up off the bed and called to arrange for a truck to come to pick up her things that very night. Then I braced myself for the work of moving her things when she was as helpful as a corpse. It was going to be a long night.