I looked at my watch, my heel tapping nervously. I knew I was early today but I couldn’t help but worry. Would Michael be able to come to work at all? Were his eyes alright? I tried to push down the guilt that ate at my stomach.

  Before long, more people were arriving. I kept an eye out for Michael until I saw him… perfectly fine?

  His face, which had had chemical burns from the pepper spray, was completely healed. But didn’t they say at the hospital that it usually takes at least a week or more for that level of burn to heal? But there he was, literally fresh faced.

  I must’ve shown my incredulity on my face, as Michael smiled. He walked over to the desk, to me.

  “How are you today, Drew?”

  Small talk?

  “I’m… fine. How are you, Michael?”

  His smile broadened. “Never better.”

  Without another word, he went to the break room to get our coffees.

  I was so astounded that I hadn’t moved an inch by the time Michael returned with our mugs in hand.

  He sat down, seeming to go straight to work.

  “Excuse me.”

  Michael paused at my words.

  I went on, “You seem… especially well today.”

  I scratched near my eye to indicate where his burns had been.

  Michael nodded, his eyes twinkling. “I have something I want to show you.”

  He took a moment on his phone, seeming to screenshot something. My phone vibrated on the desk, showing Michael’s name and contact photo. He had taken screenshots of a conversation between him and Antun.

  Michael: Hey man, quick question

  Antun: Shoot

  Michael: Do vampires have special healing or something? Drew pepper sprayed me and I’m recovering faster than the hospital said I would.

  Antun: Shit, ow! What kind of pepper spray?

  Michael: idk but shit hurts lemme tell you lol

  Antun: Believe me, I know haha

  Antun: But yeah. Vampires use the mana in their bodies to heal quicker than humans.

  Michael: So what I’m hearing is I’m using up a lot of mana right now?

  Antun: Correct

  Michael: I’m going to need more blood

  Antun: Let me know if you need help with that, ttyl

  I looked up once I had finished reading the screenshots. “Have you already, um, taken care of your dietary needs?”

  Michael shook his head. “Not yet. I was planning on going after work.”

  “Do you want company?” The question came out before I could think enough to not ask it.

  Michael looked a little surprised but smiled, nonetheless. “I’d like that, Drew. It's a date.” He went back to his work, having explained what happened and figuring that there was nothing else to discuss.

  The phrase rang through my head unbidden.

  It’s a date, it’s a date, it's a date. I’m sure he meant nothing by it.

  I tried to focus on my work. The report may as well have been in a different language; no matter how many times I read it, I could not retain anything.

  I gave up and used my empty mug as an excuse to get away from the desk. I shook the coffee beans from the bag into a grinder, pulsing it to try to make all the pieces even. I prepped the machine, getting a fresh coffee filter and pouring the coffee grounds into it. Using a clean pot, I refilled the water tank to the side of the machine and then put the pot under the drip before starting it up.

  It did not take long for the pot to fill, ending my excuse to stay away from the desk.

  I set my mug down, but instead of sitting at my seat, I went to the ladies washroom. I looked at my flushed face in the mirror, embarrassed to be seen like this at work. I waved my hand in front of the paper towel dispenser, the device buzzing as it unrolled a bit of paper. I dampened the paper with cold water and started to pat my face with it.

  Well, at least I'm not one to wear a lot of makeup or this would ruin it.

  Once I was satisfied that I didn’t look like a complete tomato, I threw the paper towel in the garbage can and left the washroom. On my way back to the desk, I heard someone whisper.

  “Psst.” Then more insistently, “Psst, Drew?”

  I looked behind me to see Sarah sitting in her cubicle. She waved her hand for me to come over, so I did. Anything to stay away from the desk.

  Sarah was one of the few women in the workplace that, despite her chatty mouth, I didn’t mind too terribly.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  “I’ve got a question for you.”

  She stood, popping her head over the cubicle for the barest moment to verify that everyone was busy. Then, she looked out the cubicle doorway as if to make sure there really were no passersby. She sat back down and motioned with a finger for me to come closer. I did.

  “You’ve been training Michael for a while now. I’m sure you’ve learned a few things about him.”

  You have no idea.

  “Yeah, I’m starting to get to know him. Why?”

  Sarah blushed, a much prettier blush than mine and asked, “Do you know if he’s dating anybody?”

  It was as if someone had whacked me in the gut with a two by four. Of course Michael would be attractive to most, especially the beautiful Sarah. With her auburn hair and blue eyes, she could’ve been on the covers of magazines in my opinion. Her skin was flawless, her blush petite and ladylike.

  Me? I had acne scars and odd chin hairs. When I blushed, my entire face would turn red and not just the apples of my cheeks like Sarah.

  I answered partly honestly, “I don’t know.” I probably would’ve heard by now if he had a girlfriend, but he does have his own life.

  But… It’s a date…

  “I don’t know, but I think that he might be interested in somebody.”

  Sarah’s eyes went wide, first with surprise, then looking conspiratorial. “Who is it? Who do you think he’s got an eye on? Do you think it’s Lisa from accounting? She looks like a Barbie, she’s so perfect.”

  I guess neither of us are satisfied with our appearance.

  “Or maybe Jenna, the delivery girl? She’s adorable.”

  I did not want to continue on this path of discussing who would be a good match for Michael.

  “I really don’t know, Sarah. It’s just a hunch.”

  Again, not a total lie. I do have suspicions about Michael and his preferences, but maybe I’m just dreaming.

  Sarah shrugged. “Well, if you hear anything juicy, let me know right away.”

  I just nodded before walking to the desk, no other excuses in hand to stay away. I again tried to focus on my work with little success. After what felt like eternity, the workday came to a close.

  It’s a date. He couldn’t have possibly meant anything by it…

  “Ready to go?” Michael was standing, putting his laptop into his bag.

  “Ready to go,” I replied. As ready as I’ll ever be…

  ? ?? ?

  “My guests, please come in,” Antun welcomed Michael and I at his home. “I apologize for the delay in getting these notes decrypted and translated. Rion, my bridge partner, was a bit confused by the book, wondering what it was. I told him it was a “guide for vampires” even though vampires are obviously not real.” He gave us a wink.

  “He laughed, even told a couple spooky stories that he was told as a child to warn him away from evil. I had expected to need to hypnotize him to forget the entire thing, but he was more fascinated than spooked. He still doesn’t know that vampires are real, but… eh, that doesn’t matter. What matters is what we discovered.”

  He went up the stairs to his living room where it seemed we always convened. Davor’s journal was sitting on the table next to a stack of papers of various thicknesses, colors, and textures, as if the notes were taken on whatever paper was available at the moment.

  Antun sat and grabbed the stack of papers, trying to gently tap them into order. “Davor was mad, I think possibly insane by the end. But it seems,” Antun took a breath, “He was trying to become a god.”

  “A god?” Michael tone conveyed disbelieving confusion. “How could anyone become a god, let alone someone undead?”

  “Davor had his theories.” Antun looked at the notes, flipping through the first few pages. “He started the whole thing by talking about himself. Typical.” Davor must’ve been a very proud man, then. “He says he was named after a god of war and his last name translated to “son of the moon,” which he took to mean that he was always meant to be a creature of the night. He goes on about that for a bit,” he turned another page, “Then he talks about how he believes a person can attain godhood. I translated the text into as modern of speech as I could, the speech patterns in the Slavic regions were different back in the 1500s.”

  Antun put down the first part of the pile, presumably the part where Davor is tooting his own horn. “Here’s the basis of his theory.” Antun cleared his throat. “To become a vampire god, one needs more energy than what one can get from the blood of the living alone. Davor believed that souls reincarnate at their time of death. The theory is to steal that energy, or fuel, in order to power the transformation into a god. Davor attempted this several times before I came under his wing.”

  Antun turned to Michael.

  “It seems that those individuals had a similar experience to you. They’d begin to die, see the light – which Davor thought was reincarnation energy itself – and then were offered a chance to live again. Just like you.”

  Antun went on, “Davor theorized that if one successfully stole a person’s reincarnation energy that their soul would be doomed to, for lack of a better word, limbo. Their soul, if unable to reincarnate, would be in a void, doomed to nothingness forever.”

  Antun set the papers down. He said nothing for a moment before, “I only knew him for 50 years, and in all that time I was one of the only vampires I was aware of. But apparently,” he referenced a note, “He managed to turn…” he counted, “Ten others. He never successfully extracted reincarnation energy from any of their deaths. He interviewed them each after they had turned, hence how we know that their turnings were like yours, Michael.”

  He took a sip of water from a tumbler to his right.

  “To be honest, I wondered for centuries if I was the only one left.”

  Loneliness flashed through his eyes, then just as quickly disappeared.

  “Anyway, back to the journal.” He picked the papers up again, reading from the notes.

  “Godhood, for vampires, is theorized to make the vampire impenetrable, nearly invincible. They, being a god, are not affected by the cross or any other holy symbol, being equal in status with other deities.

  “They can compel other vampires, amassing undead armies that could raze a village within minutes.

  “To this day, there has only been one vampire god. Legends vary on how he was defeated. Some say a hero used a sword of yew to behead him. Others say a yew blade through the heart is the only way to kill the undead god. And others yet say yew poison in any form could kill a god. The only consistency from all those stories is that yew, in some way, is deadly to vampires and vampire gods.”

  Antun set the notes back down, taking another sip of water. Michael and I used the time to think on all that we were just told.

  For me, this was a terrifying discovery.

  I turned, “Michael, do you think someone was trying to steal your reincarnation energy?”

  He looked at me, “To become a new vampire god? It’s seeming likely at this point.”

  I chewed on my lip, my arms crossed as I continued to think.

  Wait a moment…

  “Antun, do you think whoever turned Michael may have had access to Davor’s notes at some point?”

  Both of the men looked at me.

  “They’d have needed the cypher to decode the notes. If they did…” Antun’s hand covered his mouth and chin in thought. “It’s certainly possible that someone had access to the journal within the last 500 years who bothered to decode it besides us. If there is someone attempting to reach godhood…”

  “What would that mean for us? For all vampires and mortals?” Michael asked what was in all our heads.

  Antun picked up the notes once more. “Davor did list his plans for once he attained godhood.” He flipped through a couple of pages until he found the right one, pointing as he read in a theatrical voice. “Once I claim my birthright, I intend to create my own army of vampyr, then I shall enslave humanity as they once enslaved me.” His words were met with silence.

  “Drew,” Michael started, his voice serious, “I say this as a friend who wants you to be safe. Would you allow me to escort you home after work, at least until we have a better idea of what is going on?”

  I looked at Michael, then turned to Antun “What was it you said before? You’re “On the side of life?”” I looked back at Michael. “I, too, am on the side of life. Thanks, Michael.”

  Who am I to turn down the undead Great Dane for protection?

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