ALL THE DAMN VAMPIRES

He parked where the road ended, killed the headlights, and walked over to the rickety wooden bridge. Far below, the surf crashed and pounded. A full moon shone down on the old man who took a few steps onto the wooden platform, then stopped when the wood creaked ominously.

He cupped a hand to his mouth and called out, "I can't come in there, Nathaniel, so you'll have to come out here. I need to talk to you."

Only silence from within.

He waited for a few minutes, and when there was no response, he started back toward the car. "I knew this was a mistake . . ." he muttered under his breath.

"Hello, Charlie," came a voice from behind him.

The old man stopped in his tracks. "Nat," he said, turning around. He wasn't surprised he hadn't heard the other man coming; hadn't it been Natty who had taught him the Indian walk, all those years ago?

"Come sit down." There was a ridge of rock between the bridge and the car. Nat walked over to it and sat down, patting the space beside him.

"Gimme a minute. My knees aren't as young as they used to be." Charlie made it over to the rock and lowered himself slowly.

He finally got a good look at Nat. "What the hell have you done to your hair?"

Nat shrugged. "Oh, a little bleach, a little gel . . . it's the style nowadays. Gotta keep up with the times."

"It looks awful. You had such nice hair. How come it's short on the top and long in the back?"

"All the rock stars wear it like this. Besides, you're one to talk about bad hair. I thought Lucy was the hippie, not you." He flipped the end of Charlie's long braid.

"I got tired of going to the barber shop every week."

Nat smiled. "Sure you did. Got scared of going to town is more like it. Didn't I tell you that you were under our protection?"

"No," Charlie corrected him. "What you said was that you wouldn't hurt me or my family. Guess that only applies to the first two generations, eh?"

Nat nodded like he'd been expecting this. "Michael likes hanging out with us."

"He's only a boy, Nat."

"He's old enough to make his own choices."

"Not when he doesn't know what he's choosing. He doesn't have a clue what's happening to him, and I can't tell him because of our deal." Charlie shook his head. "I can't believe Damien would break his word like this."

"Damien's dead, Charlie."

Now that was surprising news. "Dead? When? How?"

Nat lit a cigarette. "Another Elder challenged him. Some new guy we'd never heard of."

"Strong enough to beat Damien?"

Nat looked up at him. There was an expression on his face that hadn't been there in fifty years. Natty was scared. "I can't fight him alone, Charlie. That's why I need Michael. He comes from good blood."

"Good blood." Was that supposed to be a joke?

"I have a plan to defeat . . . him, but I need Michael's help to do it. And it has to be soon. He's planning . . . something."

"Damn it, I wish you could tell me what."

"I would if I knew. He won't even tell us what's going on. He's a need-to-know type of guy."

"Not like Damien."

"No. Damien was cool. Not many Alpha Males would let you walk away like that and not only not come after you, but promise to leave you and your family alone."

"I made my choice. No regrets?"

"None?" Nat asked. Once upon a time, he'd been a year older than Charlie. Now here he was, still in a nineteen-year-old body, and Charlie . . . wasn't. But at least he was still human.

"Nope. I've lived a good life."

"But you'll die."

"I know. I told you that night fifty years ago: I'd rather die as a human than live forever as a monster."

Nat feigned an insulted look. "Would a monster sit and talk to you like this? I can't believe you think so little of me."

"I know what you do, late at night. I've seen the trail of bodies you leave behind you." Charlie lowered his voice. "Has Michael . . . have you . . . taken him . . .?"

"No, he hasn't been out on a kill yet. I was planning to take him tonight."

"Don't! For God's sake, he doesn't even know what he's getting into!"

"Charlie, I wish there was another way, but . . . I need him. I can't face him on my own. I need someone strong behind me."

"I can't stand to lose him, like—"

"Like you lost me?"

"Do you know how hard it is to pretend you've been dead all this time? To not even have photos of you in the album in case Lucy or the kids see you walking around town?"

Nat smiled. "I met Lucy back in '67. Gave her a ride home from San Francisco."

Charlie went pale. "She never told me that."

"She did lots of stuff out there she never told you about. Don't worry, I was a perfect gentleman." Nat's face clouded over. "I'd keep a closer eye on what she's doing now and who she's doing it with, if I were you. Something's not right."

"What kind of something?"

"I don't know. Hopefully, if my plan works, we'll never have to find out."

"I'd trust you easier if I knew what you were up to."

"It might be better if you don't know. Don't worry, I'll look after Michael for you."

Charlie was both scared and angry. Scared because he didn't know what was going on, and angry because Natty wouldn't tell him. They'd told each other everything, when they were boys. Things had certainly changed.

"All right," he said at last. "I'll trust you. But if you can get through this without anything happening to Michael . . ."

"I'll do my best." Nat stood up, and helped Charlie to his feet. "You'd better go before someone comes looking for you."

"They think I'm down at Bernice Johnson's."

"Always the ladies' man, huh, kiddo?" Nat smiled, and it was his old smile, the one he'd worn when he was still human. There was warmth in it, even though his blood ran cold now.

"You oughta move out of this old cave," Charlie said, as he started back to the car. "Must get awful drafty down there."

"Fresh air's good for you."

"I hope this plan of yours works."

"I do, too." Nat leaned against the railing of the wooden bridge. "You know, when I look at Michael, I can definitely see a family resemblance."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He looks just like Mother."

There was a flapping sound, as of great wings, and Charlie's brother was gone.