Grey light poured into my bedroom and across my bed. I blinked, trying to wake up. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I sat up, I could hear Michael doing something in the kitchen.

  I yawned and stretched, sore everywhere as if I had been in a boxing ring for twenty-four hours straight. I looked to the window, watching the rain slide down the glass panes in rivulets.

  I needed to get up. I tested my legs – a little wobbly but strong enough to hold me – and stood from the bed. I stalked over to the bathroom, taking care of necessities before going out to the living area.

  I looked in the mirror and immediately wished I hadn’t. Blood marked my collar from Nikola’s messy bite.

  A knock on the bathroom door made me jump and yelp.

  “Drew? I’m glad you’re up. I have some breakfast out here when you’re done in there.” He paused, then asked, “Are you alright? You’re breathing kinda fast.”

  “Fine! I’m fine!” I didn’t mean to yell it, it just blurted out that way.

  Michael didn’t seem convinced but said, “Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll be out here, alright?”

  I heard his steps receding from the door. I rushed out of the bathroom to my room, running to my closet, picking out clean clothes before setting them aside. I looked down at the stained shirt.

  I’ll need to run this under some cold water, try to get the stain out.

  I grabbed the clothes and went back to the bathroom. I took off my clothes, running the bloodied shirt under some cold water in the sink. It removed most of the blood, and hydrogen peroxide would get the rest.

  I turned on the shower, checking the temperature with my hand before stepping into the stream. I opened up my shampoo, squirting some into the palm of my hand.

  I really need to schedule that haircut, I thought as my shedding hair collected by the drain. Finishing quickly, I turned off the water, cleaned out the drain, and dried myself off.

  I was glad that I had splurged and gotten a bath sheet instead of a regular bath towel. It was just a bit bigger and I could actually wrap myself in it without a gap. I dried my hair with another towel, squeezing the water out.

  Once I was satisfied that my hair would no longer drip, I finished drying the rest of myself, then got dressed. I looked tired but at least I felt more human after getting clean.

  I left the bathroom and a wonderful smell filled my nose. I looked around the corner into the kitchen. “Did you make French toast?”

  Michael turned around and smiled. “I did. I hope it's okay that I used your ingredients.”

  I smiled. “Isn’t that what ingredients are for? Making food? I don’t mind at all, Michael.” I took another deep breath of the wonderful, cinnamon and vanilla-filled smell.

  I sat down at the table and Michael followed, setting down a plate full of French toast. I stabbed a couple of pieces and put them on my plate, pouring syrup over the top. I cut a small slice using the side of my fork and lifted it to my mouth. It was really good.

  “Dude, I need your recipe for this French toast. This is fantastic!”

  Michael grinned, “Thank you. It’s the only thing I can make, really. I suck at cooking.”

  “I don’t believe you,” I argued, continuing to eat my breakfast. “If you can make French toast like this, I’m sure you can’t be that awful at everything else.”

  Michael dipped his head. Was he blushing? I decided to not call attention to it and continued to savor my meal. I was finished with it all too quickly, and I stood to take my plate to the kitchen.

  “Let me get that,” Michael said as he reached for my plate. “I’m the one who made the mess, I’ll be the one to clean it up.”

  “Can I help? Please?”

  I think the “please” was what made him cave. I took my plate to the sink.

  “You wash; I dry?”

  Michael agreed and we began. We worked in relative silence the entire time, but it didn’t feel awkward. It felt… normal, good even.

  We returned to the living room. I sat on the couch, patting at the spot next to me for Michael. He graciously sat, and… what to do now.

  There was a knock at the door, breaking the silence before it could get weird. I looked at Michael, fear etching into my face. Is it Nikola? Did he find me?

  “I’ll get it,” he replied as he noted the apprehension in my eyes. He went over to the door and looked through the peephole. “It’s just Antun.” He opened the door for our friend.

  Antun stepped inside, wet from the rain. I shot up from the couch.

  “Antun, you’re soaking! Let me get you a towel.” I went to my bathroom, grabbed the spare bath sheet, and brought it back to him.

  He gave a tired, “Thanks,” before peeling off his wet jacket. It landed with a slap on the floor.

  Damn, it must be really pouring, I thought as I lifted the sopping jacket.

  “I’m going to toss this in my dryer.” I looked to Antun. “I have a pair of sweats that should fit you if you want me to dry your pants too.”

  He nodded in thanks, following me to the door of my bedroom. I got the sweats and handed them to him.

  “You can use my room to change, I’ll get your pants from you after.”

  He went in, passing me his wet jeans after he was finished. I tossed them in the dryer too, then I started it.

  “I imagine it might take a bit longer because of just how wet everything was but it’ll still be better than nothing.”

  “Thanks, Drew,” Antun replied. He looked exhausted, as if he had been running all night.

  “I found the building where he was keeping you.” He paused, as if deciding whether to say the next part. “There was a white room that was completely trashed, the door wrenched away and warped. I don’t know what you did to anger him, but he’s powerful. At least as powerful as Davor was before he died in order to cause that kind of damage.” He shifted in his seat, scooting forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t catch him, obviously. Drew, what can you tell us about him?”

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  Michael put his arm around my shoulders in support. I took a breath. “He told me his name was Nikola. He said he was trying to do something that hasn’t been accomplished in millennia. I think he’s trying to become a god.”

  A thought struck me like a hammer. “Wait a minute…” I stood up and went to my bag, pulling out the journal copies I had been working on.

  I swear it's in there, come on… Eureka!

  “Here! A Nikola Sokoli was one of Davor’s turnees. He didn’t give me his last name, but there’s a chance they are the same guy, right?” Silence followed my words as the men contemplated.

  “I’m sure there are only so many vampires named Nikola out there right now,” Michael broke the silence.

  Antun sat there pondering. “It might be, but there’s no way to know until we find him.”

  “Find him?” I asked with doubt. “He’s as boring and normal looking as anybody else, plain even. How are we supposed to find him?” We all sat in silence. It wore on for minutes.

  “Why you though, Drew?” Michael asked.

  I looked up at him. “He said he needed me for my energy.”

  “Yes, but why you?” Michael insisted.

  I didn’t know why. I couldn’t think of any reasons.

  I’m not special. Even my blood type is O+, boring.

  Why would I be targeted? Was I in the wrong place at the wrong time, or was I chosen?

  “Maybe I was just unlucky? Maybe it could’ve been anyone but I was the one who got snared. I don’t know.”

  My body started shaking. Why was my body shaking? Michael squeezed my shoulders, then he bent over and scooped an arm under my legs, placing me on his lap. He wrapped his arms around me.

  “You’re safe, Drew. You’re home.”

  “I know that,” I squirmed. “What are you doing?”

  “You might know it, but your body doesn’t. You need to let your body feel so the emotions can pass.”

  Hard, hard pass. Actually letting my feelings take over? I’d probably start crying. I don’t want to cry in front of these guys anymore, I already did that yesterday.

  My mind was whirling, trying to think of anything else I could possibly do besides letting my feelings out. A tear escaped my eye and I wiped it away, hoping the guys wouldn’t notice.

  Michael hugged me. “It’s alright Drew. It’s safe to cry here.”

  Safe to cry?

  As if he flipped a switch inside of me, I started crying, softly at first, then turning into a wail as I let my feelings of fear and anger and frustration and terror and disgust and shame – all of it – out.

  Michael held me, hugging me firmly to his chest. I slowly, so painfully slowly, began to wind down, hiccupping and trembling from everything that just happened.

  “Did he hurt you?” Antun asked, his voice dark. I turned to look at him. “Did he hurt you?” he repeated, cold fury in his eyes.

  “He bit me,” my hand went to the side of my neck where I could feel phantom teeth, “But that’s all.”

  Antun stood and walked over to me. “May I?” he asked, indicating that he wanted to check my heart. I nodded. He put his fingers on my pulse at my neck. He stayed that way for a moment before nodding, satisfied that I hadn’t been turned. He sat back down on the chair.

  I noticed that I was still on Michael’s lap and felt embarrassed, scrambling off.

  He didn’t stop me, although a bit of hurt seemed to pass through his features.

  I stood there, holding myself. I didn’t really know what to do. “What do we do, about Nikola?” Am I safe?”

  “I think it’s safer to assume that you are not,” sighed Michael. “I’m thinking it might be safer if you stayed with someone. Do you have any friends that have room?”

  Friends. Uh oh.

  I hung my head, hugging myself tighter. “There’s no one close by who I can stay with.”

  It’s not like I’ve got a full address book. Come to think of it, these two are the only people I can currently call my friends.

  “And I have Husker, I can’t leave him by himself.”

  Michael looked deep in thought for a moment, then he straightened and looked at me.

  “Here’s a thought, if you’re okay with it: I can bring my air mattress and I can stay with you for a few days, at least until we have a better idea of what Nikola’s plans are. Are you okay with that?”

  I thought about it. He did technically stay the night last night, and I felt safe with him. Something in me told me I could trust him.

  “Okay,” I replied. “It’ll be tight living for a while but if you’re okay with it…”

  Michael shrugged. “This isn’t my first sleepover, I can handle it.”

  Antun looked at us, an expression on his face that I couldn't quite read. It disappeared quicker than I could identify it, then he said, “Too bad there’s not room for more, we could make a party of it.” I chuckled and shook my head.

  I looked at the clock, my heart plummeting. “Shit, we’re going to be late for work!” I ran to my room, rifling through my clothes to find something suitable. Of course, my scattered brain thought tardiness was what needed to be immediately addressed.

  The men stared after me. Michael raised his voice to be heard from the other room. “You just escaped a kidnapper and you’re worried about getting to work on time?”

  Michael shook his head with a sigh and stood, walking to my bedroom doorway. “I already called in for myself today so that I can help you. Just make sure you call in so they don’t think you bailed.”

  I blinked, not knowing what to say.

  Michael picked up my phone and put it in my hand. “Call in, use some of your PTO or sick leave, just let them know you’re not going in today.”

  I nodded, feeling a little dumb for needing instructions for this simple task. I made the call, apologizing for my disappearance yesterday and explaining that I was “under the weather.” I did not need nor want to advertise that I had been kidnapped and have practical strangers asking me questions.

  I hung up, sliding my phone into my pocket. I went to the dryer to check on Antun’s things. A bit damp, still better. I put them back in for a little longer and returned to the living room, sitting on the couch beside Michael. “Your things are almost dry, Antun.”

  He nodded in thanks.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  “Now,” started Antun, looking towards Michael, “You should go home and get what you need.” He looked at me. “I’ll stay here with you until he comes back.” I smiled my thanks. Michael stood and turned toward the door.

  “Wait!” I called out. What is he waiting for? I’m a dumbass. “Um, thank you, for last night.”

  Michael gave me a gentle smile, his eyes kind. “Anytime.” Then he left.

  Antun turned to me again once Michael was gone. “I know there’s more to this than we’re seeing. What are we missing?” He began to pace. “Nikola kidnapped you and told you that he needed your energy. Did he say how he was going to do that?”

  “No, he told me nothing about that, just that he needed my energy.” A memory surfaced. “Wait! I remember he said that I was tough and that was a good thing for my energy.”

  Antun stopped his pacing and looked at me. “Okay, that’s something. Not sure what we’ll do with it, but I’m sure it’s important. That feels important…”

  He walked, continuing around the apartment as if his brain couldn’t work unless he was moving. “Do you remember exactly what he said?”

  I dug in my mind but it wasn’t difficult. His words were seared into my memory. “I think he said, ‘You’re a tough one, your energy is going to be perfect.’ Why, do you think you have something?”

  Antun shook his head. “Not really, I’m just trying to turn over stones right now, get as much info as we can to complete the picture.” He paced, voice low, “Maybe it has something to do with the potency of the energy?”

  He looked tired. He had been up all night trying to track down Nikola. How could I possibly thank him for that?

  I went to the kitchen, looking at the different things my mom had brought. She had gotten me a tube of cinnamon roll dough. I peeled the paper off, whacking the tube on the counter to get it to pop.

  The loud noise made Antun rush over. “What was that? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine!” I assured him quickly. “I’m just going to put these cinnamon rolls in the oven, didn’t mean to startle you.” I turned back to the counter, placing the rolls apart so they wouldn’t stick together while baking.

  “I don’t really have a good way to say thank you, for chasing after Nikola…”

  Antun approached me. He got close, wait, too close!

  I started backing up, fear tangible in my face.

  Antun immediately stopped, realizing that he was invading my space and scaring me.

  He lifted his hands, his eyes pained. “I’m sorry!”

  “No! There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.” I took a shaky breath. “It’s just… Nikola… Just before he bit me… I was taken back there – just then.”

  The hurt was palpable in Antun’s features. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that any of this happened to you. If I have anything to say about it, you’ll never be taken like that again.”

  I approached him, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Would cinnamon rolls and a kiss suffice as a thank you?”

  “You don’t need to thank me. I am your friend, of course I’m going to do everything I can to help you, especially if you are in danger.” He hugged me.

  My heart felt tight. I was so grateful for Antun, and for Michael. All this vampire mess just fell in my lap, and these men had been there practically every step of the way.

  The dryer indicated that it was done and I went to check on Antun’s things again. Mostly dry, I brought them back to him.

  He changed, and a few minutes later there was a knock at the door. Michael was back.

  “If you’re okay, Drew, I need to get going now. I got content to create, people to please.” Antun gave me one more gentle hug, as if he were scared to break me, and he left.

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