Possibly Sam

Chapter 7

We followed the gray BMW in Josef's rented Porsche. It was three-thirty in the morning and the sun would begin to rise in a couple of hours. We had to get to the east side Brownstone on Waverly Street and Second Avenue before then. We weren't far from Greenwich Village when Francis pulled over to park beside an old apartment building. We parked right behind them. The street was not busy this time of night. Francis motioned us to the lobby, his other arm linked with Sam's. "It's downstairs. This one's been operating since before the Great War."

That would have been World War I. It knew it started on May 15, 1915 with the sinking of the Lusitania by a German U-boat. I don't know how much history is taught in schools these days. Not much if the radio hosts have it right. I studied World War I, which we called the Great War in September of 1929, when I started Second Grade. I remember because our subject matter got pushed aside in favor of the newest problem – the Stock Market Crash, in October. I guess I've lived through some history too. One of my last clients was an actress. She was supposed to star in a movie about the Lusitania before her producer murdered her. It would be nice if I could avoid sad thoughts, but they always pop up.

The building was built about the turn of the last century. "Los Angeles doesn't have anything this old," I said. Josef nodded.

"There are just us and the hills. Nothing older." Although Josef lived in New York during the 1950s, I don't think he knew about this club. Sam looked up to see the height of the building. It was at least 20 stories tall, and elegant in its grandeur.

"The club is called Music of the Night," Francis said.

"From Phantom of the Opera?" Sam asked.

"No. The name comes from Bram Stoker's Dracula. Didn't you read that, Sam?"

"I never got around to it," Sam said. "Why mix up reality with fantasy?"

Francis shook his head, disappointed. "Think. Think hard."

Sam's face went blank for a moment and then he smiled. "It was put into play form. I played the lead role in London at its premier in 1919." My mouth dropped and I think Josef's did too, but he covered it well and turned to me.

"A past life," I whispered to him in sub-human tones. "One of many."

"That's where I found you that time," Francis told Sam. "You remember a little. In case you don't recall the details, rent the CD and listen to it the next time you drive home for a visit. It's a classic."

"Sure, if you like." Sam said. He was quite a contradiction - young and old at the same time. Josef and I exchanged a glance. In spite of Sam's complexity, he was amazing, and now Josef knew it too. It was a blessing to both of us that I met Sam that night at the Vanguard. Francis believed in Fate, so who was I to doubt it?

"These are the most repeated lines of the play. Dracula heard wolves howling and said, 'The children of the night. What sweet music they make.' The other one is when the Count said he didn't drink wine. We drink wine frequently. That proves Stoker was making it up, but the writing is good. Now remember, when we're downstairs, no vampire will approach you. You smell of me. I hope you're hungry. You haven't had anything to eat for too long, and they tell me the Music has an excellent restaurant. Pick what you want."

I wondered if the Music was a Freshie frequented establishment like The Pulse, or a place where vampires brought their regulars. I hoped it was a combination of the two. A doorman greeted us. We walked through the lobby and entered the elevator. There actually was an elevator man. "Floor, gentlemen?" he asked.

"The Club." Francis tipped him $5 for taking us down one flight. Josef made an I'm impressed face. I was sure they were going to be talking business before our visit was over. Fine. That would leave me some alone time with Sam.

We were escorted to a table for four in a private alcove with several easy chairs. There was a concert band off in the corner without amplification. It was loud enough for the paying guests. "Will any one in your party want something off the restaurant menu?" the hostess inquired of Francis. I was impressed that Josef was able to hold back and not try to play host, but we were out of Francis' league for status. Josef looked the same age as Sam, having died at 25 in 1624.

Francis spoke for us. "Yes. Please have a waiter bring it. We'll require two private hostesses later for my friends here." Josef looked at me. "Something new?" he asked.

"We'll see." A waiter appeared before us, expertly unfolding the menu in front of Sam. I tried to be unobtrusive as I listened for a heart beat. The lack of one told me our waiter was a vampire. Some of us probably drove busses at night. Not every vampire is wealthy. My friend Guillermo is a medical examiner. He does all right, but he wouldn't have liked the prices on the menu.

The waiter's nose twitched. I hope I'd been more discreet than that. He looked in Francis' direction, and although he didn't vamp in fear, his complexion paled. He probably couldn't wait to go back and tell the others about the celebrity at his table.

Sam barely looked over his choices before he ordered rare prime rib, potatoes with everything, buttered peas, and a large Coke. In my living days, I loved all that. At least, after what Francis told me, I would not be lacking in the best undeath can offer.

"Will there be alcohol, gentlemen?" asked the waiter.

I ordered my usual Scotch, Josef asked for bourbon, and Francis requested a Napoleon brandy. We made small talk about the neighborhood while we waited for Sam's dinner to arrive. It did not take long before the waiter was back, crisp and polished, with a covered platter. The hostess set down our drinks. We were private enough to talk in low tones. We would have smelled anyone coming by or taking too strong an interest in us. Sam enjoyed his dinner while Francis explained the plan they conceived.

"Don't take too much from your hostess tonight, Josef," Francis said. When you go home to Sarah, I want you to swallow some of her blood before daybreak. It will help you communicate with her if Sam is successful in calling her spirit."

Josef's mouth hung open. I think he was as scared of what we would do tomorrow night as he was originally of Francis. "Are you sure it won't make her worse?" he asked. What could be worse? I thought.

"It won't make her worse." I think Francis was keeping his words simple for a good reason. This entire project was emotional and there was no guaranty of success. That's why Sam needed to make sure Josef would be calm.

"I'll have Sam tonight. Mick, remember what I told you and don't worry." He turned away from us to watch Sam who was happily enjoying his desert, a crème Brule. Francis looked at the young man, his ancient love, with glowing eyes and a smile that said everything. He had found him again and was enjoying every moment of it. Even watching Sam eat filled him with pleasure. I envied Francis tonight for what was going to pass between them.

Josef rested his hand on my wrist and leaned toward my ear. "He was able to give you more confidence than I could." Josef said, a little wistful.

"He gave me an explanation you couldn't, because you didn't know it either. You gave me what was most important. I'm in your bloodline now, not Coraline's. I have the same control you have. I don't have to be afraid I won't stop in time."

A slow smile came to Josef's face. "No more of that vegan soy stuff from the morgue for you? Guillermo's going to be disappointed to lose your business."

"It won't hurt to have some on hand. I might be too busy to go to the clubs and I'm not going to have Freshies at my beck and call."

"What's wrong with that?"

"What would Beth say?" There was always that, but it was something to deal with at a later time.

"She's not here," Josef said.

I looked around to see two lovely young women slinking their way over to us. "Very true." Josef made room for his hostess. Mine was a redhead. Fate was on my side tonight. I smiled her a welcome and we exchanged names. "Jackie," I said. "They're playing a slow dance. Would you care to join me?" Freshies don't say no even when they're called hostesses. It's part of the job description.

When we returned to the table, we were alone. Sam's dishes had been taken. I suppose Francis brought him someplace where they could be private. Josef was dancing with his hostess so I knew he'd fed light. I had already asked Jackie how long she'd been a hostess at this kind of club. She was experienced so nothing I could do within reason would frighten her. I sat back on an easy chair within our alcove and extended my hand to her. Her smile was genuine as she lowered herself onto my lap and leaned into me. My arm kept her from falling. There had to be a certain amount of trust from these women or they could not do what they do. It's a profession not listed in the career books.

Jackie was not putting on an act for my benefit. She was looking forward to it. Josef often assured me I knew everything he could teach me except for control, but I trusted Francis on that score. "Are you hungry, Mick?" she asked. Nothing coy about Jackie. Henceforth, I would show more respect to her professional cohorts in Los Angeles.

I was just as direct. "Yes." I breathed her in. No perfume, but the lingering scent from her shampoo, the faintest smell of lilies. Nice. She waited to see if I was interested in her wrist or her neck. The wrist was safer. I wasn't going to be safe tonight; I was going to be good. I took her chin and tilted her head. She smiled.

My skin paled, and my canines elongated. Instinct told me what to do, but I was more than an animal, even changed. Her skin became translucent to my white vampire eyes, so I could see her blood stream. She responded to my desire with an increased pulse. I traced the lines with gentle fingers, chose the place, and pulled her in. I made the bite quick enough that she would feel only a moment of sharpness. Her hot blood filled my mouth. It was rich and sweet. She had not been fed on for at least a week. That's why properly trained hostesses were paid so well. They could only work three nights a month and many were saving for college. Here, they had to pay high New York rents if they weren't exclusives, living in the residence of their keepers like Josef's Freshies at home. For visitors like me, they were well worth what they cost.

I felt Jackie's pleasure increase. It was delightful to feel both her and my release at the same time - twice the goodness. One of my hands rubbed her back while the other supported her head and caressed her hair. I heard her pulse and respiration increase, and slowed my feeding to extend the moment. When I knew if I continued, it she would suffer for it, I pressed my tongue against her wounds. I pulled back to look at her.

Her eyes were closed in residual pleasure, not for lack of oxygen to her cells. Yes. I knew all about the physiology of blood and humans, but knowing was never enough to give me the assurance I craved as much as the blood. The control was innate now. If only I had known. I was satiated, and satisfied Jackie was doing well. I leaned back in to lick her throat clean of blood. I asked her how she felt.

"Great," she replied.

"Wonderful. I snapped my fingers and a waiter appeared at my side. "A glass of red wine for the lady. Will you have some pate and crackers, Jackie?"

"I wouldn't mind."

We were talking when Josef returned to the table with his hostess of the night. He kissed her goodbye and she left. Jackie finished her snack and told me her bill would be added to our check. I tipped her $50.00 extra. She deserved it.

"So, Francis was right?" Josef asked. His knowing smile told me he didn't need a verbal response. I looked like the cat that fell into the cream. "Now, if you had listened to me, you could have been enjoying Freshies since, when was it, March, when I brought you back into the fold?"

"March 16th. I died again and was born again. You don't tend to forget days like that. There's still Beth."

"You'll have to work that out with her, but you can stop being a monk now. Love and Freshies are not mutually exclusive. She can't feed you twice a day, even if you had the control of Francis. She'll have to learn to understand that if she loves you. Someday, you might have to accept that she's going to need male Freshies, unless she prefers females. It's for blood, not for sex. They're both great, but there is a difference. Remember what you are," Josef said.

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure I do," I said. I was still grinning when Sam and Francis returned to the table. Sam was immediately aware of what transpired while they were gone. He pumped his fist in the air. I learned on the reservation that among Mohawks, that was a sign of approval.

"Good for you, Mick," he said. I couldn't help but return his smile. Doing what came naturally felt so good, I almost didn't miss not getting any of Sam's prime rib.