There was the Thalia that Mel knew and loved, the one who saw a puzzle, something strange and had to figure it out. Having this moment to breathe, she couldn’t help but wonder what it was that Thalia went through. She could guess based on what Thalia had said before in the past. If it was another vampire, then what was their game? Maybe they were just toying if they let her go. Maybe.

She wasn’t sure. Every direction seemed fraught with uncertainty, and danger. Could she trust whoever this vampire Thalia encountered was? Probably not. Could she trust Evora? Maybe. Evora seemed neutral to her, seemed to offer words and advice that got Mel to think and come to her own conclusions. 

She – gave me a second life. 

Could she trust Thalia? Yes, but she was human, which put them at odds. On the other hand, she seemed fascinated by what lies in the dark. Yet this all put her in danger. 

Mel focused back on Thalia, and took in her steady heartbeat. Focused on how she watched with a hesitance, searching for danger and for something more. Mel didn’t know what that something more was, and couldn’t escape the uneasiness of the situation, but she needed friends, resources. 

“I’m sure you have questions, Thal. Not here though. Too many ears.” 

“Who --” 

“Please, Thal, not here.”

So that’s how she ended up on her bike heading towards Thalia’s place. Cade, as he should have, tried to talk to her. She didn’t know what he said and she didn’t try and listen or stay to find out. Mel just went ahead, she could figure enough. Besides, she really couldn’t blame him if he tried to sway Thalia away from her. 

I would too, in his place. 

Based on the reaction Cade had given when she first walked in, vampires were not the most popular. Self-loathing curled in her gut, heavy and leaden. 

I fucking wonder why? Two people in two days. I wonder how fast that number will rise.

The scenery turned from industrial to old post war housing. The complex she lived at was old but well maintained. This part of town definitely sat better than the old house she lived in.

Picking an empty spot, Mel pulled the bike up and killed the engine. She took the steps two at a time up to Thalia’s door and leaned against the wall and waited. The phone said ten so she had a lot of night to play with, so this should be fine for now. Fortunately the wait wasn’t long as Mel saw her car pull up, and watched her climb the stairs.

She spared a glance with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes, but Mel could tell she was trying. She had seen her like this before. She could be, so very fragile, in a way. And in a way very strong. 

She didn’t know what would be worse… if she dragged her into this world kicking and screaming, or if she followed willingly – or died. 

As Thalia stepped across the threshold Melody went to follow, but as soon as she tried it was as if every nerve lit up at once. Her skin split in hundreds of tiny lacerations and she bled, something inky and black. Stumbling back she bounced off the railing before catching herself and sliding down.

“That hurt,” Melody mumbled into her hands, “I need a manual for this. Can I come in?” 

“Jesus, yes Mel, you can come in. I’m so sorry.” Her voice was panicked.

Thalia pulled him by the arm, ignoring the gore into her home, this time unscathed. With a push she directed Mel to the bath. When she did, she let herself be numb, to sink to the bottom of the tub and just lie there. She didn’t revolt at the lack of breathing, she relished being able to hide from the world under the water. She ignored the first round of knocking but with the second she finally pulled her mind back from oblivion and got out, dried off and faced everything.

Her apartment smelled of Thalia, everywhere, but slowing down she realized how fucking much she could smell. Thalia herself, her body spray, detergent on clothes and fabrics, old smells of cooking. She could smell ink from something somewhere. She could hear some yappy dog somewhere in the apartments, and a heated conversation between two quarreling lovers down the hall. Steadying herself she focused very hard on the door in front of her, trying to limit – everything.

She got dressed again, stepped out and was ready to face the inquisition. Quietly she sat in the empty chair, opposite Thalia. Her apartment was warm, full of low lighting and fairy lights. She had a corner dedicated to her plants, a small shelf full of worn books and old rustic furniture. It was a lived in kind of place that could soothe any soul.

“So. Mel. Tell me everything. I feel the least you owe me is answers.” Thalia asked quietly. 

“I owe you more than that. I can own it. Any answer I fuck up, isn’t to to any unwillingness on my part. I still don’t… understand everything.” 

“Okay… let's start with uh, I guess what happened.”

Furrowing her brows, Mel did try and remember. The actual attack was still a blank spot, though if she concentrated she could make a gentle humming. “Let us see if you will surprise me, young one. Rise.” She remembered the cold inky feeling of being pulled down.

“I… don’t know how I died, exactly. I remember the pain. Blackness. A – voice. The one who made me, though I didn’t know at the time, or maybe I didn’t even register.” Mel looked down, into her hands, afraid to look her friend in the face. “I remember the, everything, overloaded senses, the… hunger. I remember…” 

“You don’t have to—” 

“No. If I owe you answers, fine. But if you get answers, you get them all.” Mel said, with an edge. “I remember killing one of them. I was so hungry and it…”

“Awful?” Thalia asked. She was trying to be helpful, but she didn’t know.  

“Delicious. I don’t have to like what I did to admit it.” Mel let herself stare Thalia in the face then. 

To her credit she didn’t flinch. Winced a little but didn’t flinch. 

“So you, uh, the Keegan dude?”

“Yup. It’s just my suspicions and I don’t have any concrete proof, but I think he was part of these phony ‘vampire’ attacks. Ironic.” 

“Wait. Wait. You’re saying that these killings are, what, a frame?” Her voice was incredulous, but there was no denying the sparkle in her eye.

“I don’t know for a fact, but,” Mel pulled up an article featuring Keegan and showed her, “He was the one I killed. I overheard them talking about my bike and how my death couldn’t look like a robbery. Plus, Evora said they were my killers.” 

“Evora?"

“Uh, the one who brought me back.”

“Huh, can I meet them?” She asked. 

“Probably, whenever they come around. They aren’t very forthcoming.” 

“They sound like a shitty sire.” Thalia huffed, her excitement palpable. 

I wouldn’t say that. Friendly no, but… 

“Seriously, sire? No. She brought me back, sure, but I am my own--,” The word caught in her throat. It had almost rolled off too easy. The word that felt right, or more right than person anyway, “My own person.” 

“So, what are you going to do now Mel?” she asked, after a brief pause, “It isn’t like you can do all the same things.” 

“I don’t know. Maybe I can keep up the crime scene photo gigs. I was thinking… tracking down that club you mentioned those years ago. The one we never found?” Mel knew she would latch onto that. She felt shitty but if it pulled her into her corner just enough, maybe she could have a safe place to lie low for a bit. Plus she was curious. 

“If you do, I’m going with you.” Her one brooked no argument. 

“I figured. While we search, uh… can I crash here? I’ll give you the cash from the last gig.” 

“Sure, just no biting.” She quipped with a smile. 

Thalia you moron, she thought, but she couldn’t help feeling the relief, the quiet little spot of Sanctuary. A place and moment of safety. Maybe, if she could keep her guard up. If she could keep herself in check, she could find her footing. At least for a bit.

Mel relished every bit of the normalcy she had over the next week as August deepened into the final stretches. She ignored the news, she fed once every other day, and even learned that she could pull back before they died if she took from the crook of an arm and sent them off with a bit of suggestion. It was… enough, and she knew it would only hold her out but it was doable. Towards the end of the week she took another job from Martinez. She had made excuses and she thought they were entirely  reasonable. She had been taking photos of one murder after another and needed a breather. She couldn’t hide forever though, and the cash for Thalia would go a long way. 

She continued to blow off Danny and all his messages. She had no idea how to handle that fire in the slightest, and promised to come home in a few more days. She just needed a bit of time to put herself together. She doubted Danny would buy it, she wasn’t buying it herself. Still; he stopped asking, and for now that was all she could do.

Hopefully he wouldn’t start looking for her. He probably would.

She met up with Martinez and deflected all his concerns. She looked pale and sick and this and that. Of course, working nights taking pictures of corpses was so good for the mind, she told him. His gaze was piercing, searching, no doubt looking to catch some lie. The same place she was murdered. Of course it was. They knew she was still here. Whoever they were.

“Mel, look, I don’t get why you’re avoiding me, but look. I’ve been seeing your name pop up in places it shouldn’t. Can I get a statement from you, right now, that you haven’t had anything to do with these – murders?” 

She couldn’t hide the start. The question seemed to completely come out of left field. Yet, it fit into her growing theories that whoever is doing this, has some connection to the police. If – If the one that she let go was another cop, then… he would be able to target her.

“Martinez, get real. As if. If I were a killer, I would do a better job hiding my tracks.” Mel scoffed.

His eyes snapped back to her, and held that searching look again, but he let her go. From there she crossed under the police tape and set up to snap her shots.

The victim was a woman. She didn’t know her, but she looked vaguely similar to her. She didn’t know if that was a coincidence or message. The thought of it being a message sent a dark curling anger loose around her spine, and the smell of all the spilt blood let the haze run wild and bright. She did her best to ignore it, but couldn’t hide the crinkling of her nose. 

“Anyone who even knows vampires in passing, knows this is fake.” She whispered under her breath as she snapped her shots. 

Mel watched as someone she didn’t recognize walked up next to her as she took her photographs. She was shorter than her, maybe five foot five inches next to her five six. She held herself with military rigidness and a stern face, with her short auburn hair pulled back. What shocked her more than anything was how very little she could smell of this newcomer. A faint scent of human, but nothing else.

“Blood shy? Your nose keeps wrinkling.” She asked. 

“It’s hard to ignore this much of it.” Mel replied, something about this one putting her hackles up. 

“Indeed it is. Did you know her? You seemed to have been studying the body.”

“No. Not at all.”

Mel watched as the strange woman cocked her head and studied her. She had a small smile, like she knew something Mel didn’t. She had a very ordinary look, so much so it had to have been curated. Her hair was on the shorter side, in a kind of bob. It was light brown and as unremarkable as her eyes. Mel squinted her eyes, looking. It almost looked like she used make-up to draw attention away from her eyes, away from identifying features.

“Well I will see you around—” 

“Melody. And you are?” 

“Rowan. Rowan Holloway, private investigator.”

“The fuck is a P.I. doing at this crime scene?” Melody whispered to herself. 

That might explain the look. Though she is definitely an odd bird. 

Finishing up the last shot, Mel passed by Martinez and let him know she would get these edited and over to him and the tabloids. He didn’t say anything and just nodded, his eyes searching her face for – something. The thought made her uncomfortable. With that she made her way to her bike sped back towards home, with Thalia.

She was sure to be bombarded with more questions. Thalia was full of them, some of them quite morbid. It seemed she was more enamored than afraid and Mel was… afraid of that. Afraid of how that would change the dynamic despite how comforting it was to be seen as something other than a monster. 

Things were starting to get claustrophobic. Not just with Thalia but this new woman, Rowan. How Martinez seemed distant. Keegan being a cop. All of this was not kosher. Something was up with this whole situation. 

Lost in thought she almost didn’t notice Evora leaning against the apartment wall. Without a word she just gestured for her to follow and to her surprise she did, a small smile starting to curl. Melody turned the lock with her new keys Thalia had made and stepped in.

“Welcome back friendo—"

“Hey Thal, do me a favor and invite Evora inside.” 

“Ooooh. You can come in. No biting.” 

Evora ignored her but stepped across the threshold and looked slowly around, her eyes missing nothing and her amused little smile never leaving her face.

“I see fledgling, that you have stepped up in the world. You have survived your first week.” 

“Yup.” Mel said flatly, keeping things close to her chest for now.

“So, what do you plan to do now, Melody?” Evora asked. 

“That,” Mel replied, “is the million dollar question. First, I suppose since I refuse to lay down and die, I have to figure out how to live. I guess. I know I am not the only vampire around, not counting you. As to what I do with that yet, I don’t know.” 

Evora only hummed in response, her eyes watching intently, with the occasional flick towards Thalia. Thalia to her credit remained silent and watched with excitement. That girl was going to die early if she wasn’t careful. 

“Also, the last job. I can’t shake the feeling it’s a message. I have nothing I can point to, not that I can decipher anyway, but my gut says to lie low.”

“You, my dearest Melody, I believe are the only one that I have ushered into the night that may be worthwhile.”

“Is that… so?” 

“Most of our kind, they do not last. They fall, they fail. You have not. Not yet at least.”

“So then, I do have one question. One that I would like not veiled in a puzzle. Did they cut my throat, to look like a vampire feeding?”

“Yes.” Evora said in her melodic chiming, setting a finality to Mel’s old life.