Lying feels like a BAD idea here.

“She … was a bad person,” you answer cagily, trying to avoid going too deep. However, the look Andy gives you tells you that lying to her is only going to make things worse later. “I killed her. Sunday.”

“Like, by accident?” she probes, backing off a little.

“I lost control. I took too much, but it wasn’t … with Eva, it was because I wanted her so fucking much,” you tell her, realizing the implications as you say it, but not wanting to dwell. “With Atlee, it’s because she made me SO. MAD. And I wish I hadn’t, but I don’t, either.”

“What the fuck did she do?” Andy spits, a little incredulously. You can tell she’s getting angry.

“She tried to **** me, which didn’t work because, dead, then sent this guy upstairs when she told where I could ride out feelin’ sick. The sick was from drinking not-blood, but she didn’t know. I had sex with him. And when I used my mind thing to ask what the guy wanted, ‘cause he’s an asshole and I wanted the truth, and no, I didn’t use it before we fucked, he said he wanted to **** me while I was passed out. And after I knocked him out, Atlee said she’d sent him when she walked in on us.”

“Oh, God.” Her voice is flat, anger draining out of her face. “I … no, that’s fair, I’ve killed people for less.”

“I didn’t WANT to kill her!” you object. “Well, okay, I wanted to, but I knew I shouldn’t. She just told me she’d done it to other girls who’d got in her way, and she’d blackmailed people and had them arrested and … I wanted to hurt her. And I feel bad about it, but even right now, I don’t think it was the WRONG choice, I just don’t know if it was RIGHT. She would still be hurting people.”

“Anyone else?”

“Just the dick outside we did ‘gether. And he was also rapey. And murdery.”

“Good. I was … startin’ to regret not stabbin’ you again,” she tells you bluntly, “but that’s some real fucked-up shit. I never met her, but I’m glad she’s fuckin’ dead.”

“Dark.”

“Not all monsters have fangs,” she says, pointing a finger at you. “I mean, a lot of ‘em do. But it was, like, a metaphor. For the human condition. And some humans sucking.”

“A lot of ‘em,” you commiserate as she takes a sip of her drink. “Who just hurts other people like that? Like, for fun?”

“God, you are not gonna’ fit in at the Camera.”

“Did you say camera?”

“Yeah, it’s the … the big, vampire-y ruling body thing. Camera. And the Sabbath. And the Anarchists. I dunno’. It’s fuzzy, they all have this big kibosh on talking about them. Details, few.”

“Izzat why that guy called me a Sabbath whore?” You tilt your head to the side. “Is it recent? Is it a Black Sabbath thing? I hope yours is called the Slayer, they suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.”

“Mm, old! All of them. Except the Anarchists, but that’s not old by their … clock … thing. Like, from what I know, still started way before we were born.”

“I like my version better.”

“Oh, those creepy ones who make zombies and shit! They could be the Megadeth! I’m into it now.”

“Zombies?!” you yell, completely failing to modulate your tone as you slap a hand on the table. “There’s fuckin’ zombies?”

“And werewolves. And ghosts. And weird goblin-things that drink kid blood. World’s fuuuuuucked.” She leans back as she carries the “u,” tilting until she almost falls out of her seat and has to yank herself back up to correct. While she does, you glance at your phone again to see a text back.

Eva: I’m going back to bed, but I jacked my volume all the hell up.

Eva: Not going to ruin the first lead you’ve got, but if anything, ANYTHING feels off, tell me and get out of there.

Eva: Love you, too, babe. Make good choices. Like. For a given value.

As you stare down at the phone, you feel Andy slip out of her seat and rest her head on your shoulder, staring at the text again. She really doesn’t have a great sense of personal space.

“Oh my God, you liiiiiiiiiiike her!” she teases you, pushing up against your back.

“I do not!” Jesus, that came out defensive. “We’re just … we’re very good friends.”

“Mmhm. I always grin like an idiot while staring at my phone for half a minute straight when my friends text me. Oh, wait.”

“I wasn’t. Was I?”

“Yeah. It was cute, though … hey, she’s not your ghoul, is she?” You look up at her, perplexed.

“Wass a ghoul?”

“You know, when you give a human your blood, they get strong and tough, really weird and obsessive …”

“She’s not … REALLY weird and obsessive …” you defend, suddenly very worried. “I did … that’s how I got her back. When I almost killed her.”

“You don’t know.” You shrug nervously. “Ah, fuck. Okay. So. Your juice, it’s, like, turbo-coke. Some people handle it pretty fine, some people … don’t. Like most ****. BUT. It also does this thing where if you drink it, it messes with a person’s head. Like, it wouldn’t do that to me because of my stuff, but it also wouldn’t heal me, either. I’ve tried when I was real beat-up before. It’s just gross.”

“Oh, God, did I fuck up? Oh no, no …” you trail off softly.

“You haven’t had sex with her, right?” You shake your head. “Good. That’s … very good. See, once a human or an animal gets their fix from you a few times, they start getting very into you. Like, ‘you’re the only thing that matters, I’ll do anything for you,’ kind of into you. Animals, it’s just like having a real diesel pet. But people … most … most vampires use it. Get some free labor, pair of eyes during the day … but it’s basically just magic roofies if you start fuckin’ them.”

“God, should I not give her any more? It felt like it was good for her, but …”

“Personally? Probably still should. She’s in this with you, whether you want it or not.” She hiccups, then frowns. “She’s way harder to kill the way things are. Everyone on the site, they all have these stories, ‘bout tryin’ to keep their families or leave them behind … someone always dies.

“I don’t want her to die!” You can feel yourself starting to cry gently and grab a napkin, trying to dab up enough that no one notices even in the dark club lights that it’s not tears. “But she deserves to know the truth.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“What? Why?”

“Won’t believe you. They never do, they can’t. It’s part of why it’s so fucked-up. Just … look, she clearly matters a lot to you, just keep her safe and close. But don’t forget she’s got you literally in her veins. She can’t say no to you, not really. So, if you screw her …”

“I can draw a straight line.” You can feel yourself slipping into depressed crying drunk out of loopy drunk. Jesus, what did you do to Eva? You need to be so careful around her. What if you tell her to do something dangerous and she gets herself hurt? Worse, what if she gets herself killed? God, you should have known. She broke Atlee’s neck so you wouldn’t have to carry killing her by yourself. Who does that?

“I’m really sorry,” she says, eye sad and … less drunk than you’d expect. “Someone was supposed to tell you. Though they probably wouldn’t have said it like I did …”

“Fuck me, that’s horrible,” you groan, collapsing on the table. “Give me a second?” You think she nods, but it’s hard to tell buried in your own arms. The tears are coming too fast now to hide, all you can do is wait for them to stop and clean up. ‘It wouldn’t have worked, anyway,’ you tell yourself. ‘She’s your best friend, you can’t … you can’t lose that. Just be gentle with her. You weren’t going to sleep with her anyway, right? You absolute fuck-up, I can’t believe you did this.’

“Come on, I know it sucks,” she offers, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Don’t think about it now. We’re havin’ fun, let’s just do that, deal with real life later.” You nod, taking a paper towel she’s handing you.