I didn’t believe he would find her and now I really did feel like spitting, but Dudley told me this was all I could expect from the police.

“Right,” I said bitterly, before turning to leave.

“Wait,” Roan said, getting up from his chair and coming around to face me. “If London didn’t kill my brother, do you know who did?”

I stood there and looked at him. I didn’t know how to answer him and I was sweating bullets. If I said Dudley did it, then Roan would go after him, but since London already pointed the finger at him, Roan was probably planning on going after him anyway. If I said London did it—the torture would be double and she’d probably be dead before I could find her anyway. If I said I did it—I would be forfeiting my life and he probably still wouldn’t let London go. Not to mention my death wouldn’t be painless.

I had to do some creative lying—lots of truth mixed with a couple of carefully selected falsehoods.

I winced.

It was a part of the act.

“I was there that night, but I was fifteen years old and kind of traumatized by what I saw. I’ve never remembered that well. All I do remember was London screaming when he bit her, but she didn’t want Schroder dead. Plus, I’ve lived with her for eight years since then. She has only just stopped mourning.”

“Is that so?” Roan asked disbelievingly.

“Yeah.”

“You really don’t remember anything?”

When I looked up to read his expression, he was much closer to me. I could see his face and neck with more clarity. Suddenly, I was so scared I could hardly move. Roan was supposed to be Schroder’s twin. He wasn’t.

I grabbed the collar of his shirt and ripped it open until the buttons popped. His chest looked exactly how I thought it would. Exactly where I stabbed him were scars. His collar hid most of it, but his throat had the mark all the way around where Dudley beheaded him.

“I thought I killed you,” I breathed as I stepped away from him.

“It took me five years to recover from what you and that brat did to me, but I didn’t want revenge against you,” he said, stroking the scar on his neck with his thumb. “Even though I suffered that much, I didn’t feel like you did anything wrong.”

“Why?” I gasped.

“Why do you think?”

I thought madly, but nothing made sense. The ends didn’t join up. “Because your brother,” I stuttered, but the truth was staring me in the face. “You never had a brother did you?”

“No. I had a twin brother and a bloodsucking bitch drank on him until he died. I went after her. I could have just ended her legacy right then and there, but wouldn’t that have been a waste?”

Pierce spoke up. “So, you did the same thing to her that she did to Roan? That’s brilliant,” he said sardonically. “How did you do it? How did you make everyone believe Roan was still alive?”

“It wasn’t easy. It started when I had to keep Roan’s death a secret from my parents. I’m sure Sweeper knows all about keeping secrets from parents. It was noble enough at first. I had to play both myself and my brother to stop their hearts from breaking. I’m sure you can understand the lengths a loving sibling would go to.”

“Are you sure you know which one you are?  Roan or Schroder?” Pierce asked. “Things like this get confused so easily.”

The vampire shrugged his shoulders elegantly. “Ah, I can’t remember. These days I go by Roan. His reputation is cleaner than Schroder’s.”

I heard Pierce suck in his breath.

But Roan didn’t seem to care who he was talking to—whether it was me or Pierce. He was half lost in memory as he continued, “Sweeper, how could I blame you for trying to stop the same thing from happening in your family? I would have saved my brother if I could have.”

“Then why did you go after London in the first place, if you knew the damage it would cause?”

“I fell in love.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. Vampires were so stupid about love.

He waved his hand in dismissal. “Not with her. With you, but how could I stand to murder you? I would certainly let you kill me if I let you drink one drop of my blood and I knew my passion would eventually drive me to that if I didn’t take steps to stop it—so I drank London’s blood and thought about you.”  He touched my cheek and whispered in my ear.  “I pretended she was you every time I touched her, every time I tasted her blood.  She wasn’t herself. For me, she was you.”

I slapped his face. 

“I had to keep my love for you pure—to keep both of us alive.”

My head was spinning and my brain was breaking. I couldn’t stand this. “Liar. Do you think telling me such a ridiculous tale will win you any points now? You hardly even saw me back then. How dare you say you loved me?”

“But I did,” he said softly. “You were like the opposite of a vampire. Most people want to be vampires, but not you. Can you imagine the horror of taking a flask of blood to your lips every night and drinking, say, a hundred and eighty milliliters, for two months? A person seeking to gain a vampire life does it. They know where the blood comes from and they don’t flinch. The price is too high—much too high for you. You didn’t love things or even seek selfish pleasure. You loved perfectly.”

“What?”

He took a deep breath and what he was saying sounded like something he had been aching to say. “If I came into your life slowly and took even a few days to make friends with you—you would have liked me. I would have done anything to make you like me. After our relationship was established, you would have done everything to defend me. That’s how you treated London and everyone else.”

“How could you know how I treated others? I repeat; you hardly saw me.”

“I didn’t need to. It wasn’t hard to see and I fell in love with you instantly. Everyone loves you, though you didn’t know it. You don’t see the way their eyes turn as you brush past, Sweeper.” His voice slowed as he finished his thought, “You wouldn’t want anything to do with me if I killed your sister. I did it to protect myself.”

“And you didn’t worry that I’d come after you and kill you?”

“I’d forgive you,” he said quietly.

This was infuriating. “You don’t make any sense. If you didn’t care that I would kill you, then why not try to have a relationship with me?”

“I didn’t feel that way at first.”

“I’m going to kill you now if you don’t start making some sense! What about what you’ve done to London now? Do you think I’ll forgive you for chaining her up in the basement of your garage and letting seven humans drink off her last night?” I accused, pulling the gun out of the back of my pants and pointing it at the ceiling. I wanted to hear what he had to say in response to my accusation. I wanted to force him to answer.

At first, he just stared.

Beside me, Pierce was preparing to play referee.

“It’s not me who’s doing that.”

“Is that so?” I said acidly. I couldn’t talk to him and I couldn’t stand his attitude of feigned innocence. I cocked my gun and pointed it at his head. “Well, if it’s not you then call Garth now and tell him to let London go before he drinks enough blood to change himself into a vampire. Do it now!”

“Why?” he whispered. “Aren’t you tired of having to babysit London? Don’t you feel like she is ruining your life? Don’t you want to have a relationship with a man? Get in deep with someone special in your bedroom without worrying about her down the hall? Live your life like it matters?”

“And you want to give all that to me?”

“Yes. I know it’s too late for you and me to be together, but I want you to have your life like you bit a piece out of it instead of what you’ve been doing, admiring your own life in a shop window… like it’s something you can’t have.”

“Stop making this about me.  You could save her.  She loves you.  You could take her back.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Fine.  Don’t take her back, but why are you torturing her and selling her blood to monsters?”

“He can’t help it!” Pierce interjects. “Once you’ve made someone a vampire, you can’t escape the suspicion they’ll come after you until after they’re dead.”

My eyes were hot as I pushed my sweaty bangs off my forehead. “Call Garth now or I really will shoot.”

“You won’t kill me with that little gun, and I want to do this for you. It’s a gift.”

“Call Garth!” I screamed, tears running down my cheeks.

“Pull the trigger,” Pierce ordered.

I tightened my finger around the trigger, but I couldn’t pull it. I couldn’t do it. I was afraid if I did, I’d shut his mouth forever and I’d never be able to save London. I dropped my gun and fell to my knees on the floor. “Please, save London. Stop them from hurting her. I beg you. Please, tell me where she is.”

He bent down so his eyes were level with mine. “You have to understand. I have to be strong now for you.”

He was completely crazy. I was never going to get anything from him. I picked up my gun, put it to his temple, and SMASH! BANG!

Roan was lying on the floor with blood splattered all around.

Except I wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger.

I looked to my left and Dudley was standing outside the broken window. He did it.

He took the barrel of his gun and broke away the extra glass around the window. Then he came in through the frame.

“It’s okay, Sweeper,” he said, getting down next to me and putting his arms around me.

“Why is it okay?” I wailed, pushing him away from me. “Now we’ll never find London.”

Dudley pushed my gun away and held my head to his chest. At first, I struggled against him, but then I released the handle and clung to him. Unhappiness assailed me, but his strong heartbeat soothed me. I wiped my tears away and tried my best to slow myself down.

Then I noticed what Pierce was doing. He was kneeling beside Roan, inspecting his body. My panic completely ebbed as I watched Pierce pull off Roan’s hair. He was wearing a wig?

“Don’t tell me this bloodsucker isn’t Schroder or Roan now!” I whined in complete confusion.

“No. It’s the right guy,” Dudley said.

Pierce looked grim. “It’s just that when he was burnt, I’m assuming by you, all his hair was burnt off. The eyebrows and eyelashes are false, too. He said a single bullet to the head wouldn’t kill him. It made me wonder if he’s taken one or two before. See? There’s a mark—here and there.” Pierce lifted his head and examined his whole skull. “He’s been shot in the head on four other occasions. He needs surgery to have them removed.”

“Is that possible?” I gaped.

“Sweeper, you slashed him through the chest, I severed his head and we burned his corpse and he lived.” Dudley sighed. “This is only going to stun him and when he wakes up, he’ll be more demented than before.”

“Great,” I groaned, “but how? How did he live? Only ashes were left the morning after we burned him.”

Dudley frowned. “I must not have put his head far enough away from his body. He must have gotten up and left while you and I were sleeping. That’s why there was no skeleton. There should have been bones at least.”

“But how could he move at all if his head was severed?”

Dudley looked sheepish, like he didn’t know the answer. He finally responded by saying limply, “He’s undead.”

“All right, so how do you kill a vampire, if doing all that doesn’t kill him?”

“There’s only one way—you have to bleed them dry. Well, I suppose there are gorier methods, but bleeding them is the most effective.  When we burned him, we cauterized the cuts. If we’d left him to bleed out on your living room floor, we wouldn’t be having this problem.”

Pierce looked troubled. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to take him out of here if I’m going to have time to help him before he wakes up. Can one of you please call for the maid? I need to talk to her.”

Dudley got up and went to get the maid.