Colin bobbed his head to the techno-club music blaring from the speakers, his movements painfully off-beat. Feelings of lust, excitement, and thirst emanated from the crowd of vampires, mixing together into one large cloud of emotion. He closed his eyes and soaked it in, like taking a long drag from a cigarette.

He couldn't remember the name of the club he was in. Nadja said it belonged to someone named "Simon the Devious." According to her, he was a crucial part of the plan to appease the Baron. Personally, Colin had no interest in catering to the whims of the archaic eunuch currently squatting in their attic, but he could taste his friends' fear in the air and understood their desperation. Fear was a pulsing thing, blurred around the edges and cold. It was nauseating.

Across the way Colin spotted Nandor, which was easy, considering how much taller he was than most of the crowd. He seemed to be chatting with an attractive female vampire, either flirting with her, trying to expand their domain, or both.

He interrupted their tête-à-tête with horse facts, specifically about ferriers. Of course Nandor knew what a ferrier was, he loved horses - which was why it was perfect to needle him with.

"Why don't you go and mingle somewhere else, Colin Robinson?"

"Oh, I don't think so. Uh, my stomach's feeling a little iffy. Gas. So, I think I'll just stick with you tonight."

It wasn't even really a lie. His stomach did feel shaky. Over the past couple days his roommates' fears and worries had seeped into most of the house, infecting all the surfaces with a dizzying anxiety. He was grateful to be out of the house, even if their worries did follow them.

He'd never admit it out loud, but his own fears were contributing to the atmosphere of the house, too. Too much had happened with Joan for him to have fully recovered. He would have to face her at work tomorrow. She'd probably find some new, terrible way of disturbing him, like she had every other day they talked. The thought of it made his stomach flip unpleasantly.

Colin mentally shook himself. He wasn't here to dwell; he was here to forget.

Just as he was about to launch into another conversation about horses and shoes for said horses, he was suddenly pulled away. Over the din of club music he heard Laszlo's voice.

"All right, Colin Robinson, which lucky creature am I taking with me to that utility close over there?"

For a moment, Colin didn't understand what he was talking about, but then he remembered their conversation in the hallway a couple of days ago. Apparently Laszlo had been serious about enlisting Colin as his empathic wingman.

He smirked, more than happy to humor him. He clicked his tongue and scouted the crowd. There was a surprising number of vampires who would be receptive to Lazlo's advances and an even more shocking amount of them were actually attractive. But that's not what he was looking for.

He continued to scan the crowd, searching for his mark. There. Leaning against a limestone pillar was a particularly gnarly looking vampire. His proportions were off. His chest was short and thick, while his arms extended far past his knees, all the way to his ankles. His nostrils were stretched into long slits against his face and his eyes were completely black, as if his pupils had engulfed the whites of his eyes.

Colin guessed his look was probably intentional. He must have been forcing himself to remain mid-transformation to his bat form. Sounded painful. The vibes he could sense from him were unpleasant - a pointed aura of anger and disgust. With himself? With the world? Hard to tell from this distance. Not that it mattered. This guy was perfect.

"Over there. The guy by the pillar. He's single and lookin' to mingle."

Laszlo followed his eyes, arching his brow. "Are you sure? He seems a little…" He shook his hand in the air. "Absolutely fucking terrifying."

Colin held back a grin. "I'm sure. He may literally look like a bat out of hell, but I promise on the inside he's just desperate for some loving. That's a wild ride you want to take, mi amigo."

Laszlo looked skeptical.

Colin glanced at the monstrous, pulsating hat sitting on Laszlo's head. Laszlo had insisted on wearing his hat made of witch skin to the club. It wouldn't have been a problem, if it wasn't also totally cursed. "Plus, with that witch's hat, who could refuse?"

Swelling with sudden confidence, Laszlo said, "A fine point! And you are an energy vampire. I defer to your wisdom. Bat!"

And off he went, weaving through the crowd as a bat until he reached his unwitting target. Colin leaned back against the counter of the bar behind him, settling in to watch the show. The woman sitting on the stool next to him leaned away as he got too close. He glanced at her.

She was flirting with the bartender, her eyes gleaming red. She was far thinner than a human could possibly be and he couldn't be sure, but he swore he saw something leathery - wings? - rustling under her dress. Was she a succubus? A harpy? He didn't know. By all accounts, she looked absolutely nothing like Joan. But there were wrinkles between her brows and her lips were pale, and he found himself thinking back to the coworker he was desperately trying to forget about.

He took another swig of the drunken energy around him and turned his attention back to Lazslo. Laszlo had transformed back from his bat form and bowed to the grotesque vampire towering over him. The larger vampire snarled. Undeterred, Laszlo began to … Colin squinted to verify he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. Yup, Laszlo was miming sexual acts.

The bat-creature snarled, gripped Laszlo's throat, lifted him into the air and threw him halfway across the club. Laszlo landed somewhere into the crowd, causing some of the dancing vampires to disperse. Colin flinched at the thud.

One creature, a banshee, screeched at Laszlo's impact. Her teeth were sharp and thin as pins, and her bony figure seemed to stretch vertically as she screamed. Everyone around Colin covered their ears and shouted at her, but he was still, contemplating the particular brown of her thinning hair and the murky gray of her eyes, so different and yet so reminiscent of Joan.

Laszlo picked himself back up and dusted himself off. "Oh, quiet, you squawking gib-face."

The banshee hissed and retreated as the crowd began to coalesce once again. Laszlo approached Colin, wearing a flat expression. He exuded disappointment - but, surprisingly, none of it was directed at Colin.

"It would seem that I am not up to the challenge of wooing your chosen target. I apologize, Colin Robinson. I am sure it is very disheartening to see an experienced seducer such as myself fail in these matters. Especially when you so carefully chose who I should pursue! But do not give up hope, for I am sure that with enough time and observation, you may learn how to secure that human woman from work."

Colin smiled thinly. He hadn't told any of the others about what had happened with Joan. He worried that talking about the issue would make it even more real.

"Don't worry about it," he said, stomach roiling with the sudden mention of her. "How about we go see what Nadja's up to?"

For just a moment, it felt like Laszlo was going to push the issue. Colin clenched his hands repeatedly as he prepared for the impending probing. But instead, Laszlo merely nodded his head and led the way. Maybe he saw the fear in Colin's eyes and knew better than to continue the conversaton, or maybe he just didn't give enough of a fuck to question him further. Colin was grateful regardless.

It was only a few minutes after finding Nadja that everything went to shit.

Colin, Nadja, and Laszlo stood on the sidewalk outside the burning nightclub, watching the smoke consume the night sky. Laszlo felt the top of his head, already missing the pulsing presence of his witch hat.

Dozens of bats flew out of the blown-out windows in a frenzy, some already on fire. What once was a cloud of drunken lust and excitement had become a storm of terror and pain. The storm of emotion drenched Colin to the point that he practically dripped with their fear. He shivered.

Nadja eyed Colin. "What are you shivering for? Energy vampires do not get cold. Especially not next to giant nightclub-sized flames!"

"I'm soggy."

Nadja scoffed. She was upset that her attempt to expand their domain had failed. Not to mention she was still irritated at Laszlo for insisting on bringing the witch's hat. On top of it all, she was struggling to manage the growing fear of what the Baron would do to them when they inevitably failed at conquering the New World.

The negotiations with Simon had gone about as well as Laszlo's seduction attempt. Simon had lived up to his namesake - deviously luring them to the club to secure Laszlo's cursed witch hat. Why those two were so obsessed with it, he didn't understand. While the hat was cursed, there was nothing about it which compelled people to wear it. Simon and Laszlo's fascination with it was totally their own.

That fascination with the hat proved to be Simon's downfall. The moment he put it on, he'd managed to set the place ablaze, as well as all hope of securing Manhattan for the Baron.

A fire truck pulled up next to them blaring its sirens. Firefighters began piling out, immediately getting to work on managing the raging flames. One firefighter separated from the group and approached them. He was tall and had an authoritative air about him.

"You need to vacate the area. It's not safe here."

Nadja leveled a glare at him. She raised her hand, waving it in circles a few inches from his face. His face went slack as the hypnosis began to take effect. "You will fuck off and do your job. Leave us. Now."

He jerked his head in a violent nod. "Understood. Fucking off now."

And so he did, walking off and shouting orders at the other firefighters. Nadja was the most skilled in hypnotism - whether it was due to her natural inclination to dominate others or simply centuries of experience, Colin didn't know, but he found it impressive nonetheless.

Energy vampires were capable of hypnotizing humans, but it expended an absurd amount of energy and there was little use for it. You could only hypnotize action, not feeling, and feeling was an energy vampire's sole currency. Not to mention it was fucking difficult. With little need to practice it, most energy vampires could barely compel a human to-

A sudden god-awful crunch interrupted his thoughts. They all turned around and saw the unfortunate source of the sound. Across the street was an old taco truck, the roof of it dented severely. On the ground was a broken Guillermo, radiating the most physical pain Colin had ever felt come from a person, and that was including his roommates' victims. Usually their deaths were quick - Guillermo seemed to be taking his time.

Wondering how the hell Guillermo had fallen from the sky, Colin looked up and saw what he assumed was Nandor's silhouette. He was awkwardly hovering in the air, ever so slowly floating down. As he got closer and closer to the ground, Colin could sense the growing guilt and dread he was feeling.

Just as some of the firefighters began running to Guillermo's aid, Laszlo muttered, "Well, there goes another familiar."

Nandor's feet finally touched the ground a few yards from Guillermo. Horrified at the sight of Guillermo's body being swarmed by concerned firefighters, he took a step closer, but thought better of it and stepped back. The fear of what might become of Guillermo was suffocating him, Colin knew. For one brief moment, he pitied him. But then the odd feeling passed, and he continued to silently watch the sad scene before him.

Like with most things, Laszlo had been wrong about Guillermo's fate. Miraculously, Guillermo had survived the fall and was currently lying unconscious in a hospital bed. All four of them - Colin, Laszlo, Nadja, and Nandor - were circled around him.

Nandor frowned. "If you think about it, it's really his fault. Wanting to fly like a vampire - psh. Silly human."

None of them said anything. Nadja was still trying to quell her fear of the Baron, Laszlo was lamenting the loss of his hat, and Colin … well, Colin didn't have a stake in any of this. He was just along for the ride and the company.

A nurse walked in, pressing buttons on machines Colin couldn't identify. She was overworked and anxious. Her stress pulsated in the air unevenly. He would have drained it (stress tasted acidic and juicy, like a citrus fruit), but he thought it probably wouldn't be wise to drain the woman currently looking after Guillermo.

The nurse had long blond hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her face was wrinkled and there were white streaks in her hair. Whether she was as old as she looked or the stress had aged her, he couldn't tell. Her eyes were green, but most importantly, there were dark bags under her eyes. Just like Joan.

Colin sighed. He'd thought he'd left those kinds of thoughts behind in the club, hopefully burned up into nothing but ash. But no, they seemed to have followed him here, destined to pester him until he saw her tomorrow.

Laszlo bumped Colin's shoulder with his. "How about we leave these two sad heaps here and head back home before the sun rises and flambés us?"

"Yes, time to go. Get well, Gizmo," Nadja said noncommittally as she already made her way to the door.

Colin followed them both out. Nandor stayed behind, not even acknowledging their exit. On their way out, Lazlo discovered Simon the Devious' room. Apparently he'd been found in the rubble. On the foot of his bed was Laszlo's beloved witch's hat. The moment he put it on, Nadja and Laszlo began arguing about what should be done with it. Nadja suggested a ceremonial burning, which Laszlo loudly rejected. Why would anyone want to burn such a unique, magnificent headpiece?

Colin was content to drain the frustrated energy from both of them for a while, but eventually

grew bored of the taste. There was still an undercurrent of fear within them anyway, the Baron's threats still on their minds. It made the energy from their bickering taste a little off, like sipping from an expired milk carton.

He left the room and made his way through the hospital, intending to call a cab when he reached the entrance. He peeked into some of the rooms as he went. There were lots of interesting energies to sample in each one. There was dread, there was suspicion, there was hope. He tasted a little of each and savored them all, but didn't consume much. He imagined this must be what a wine tasting was like for humans.

One peculiar room had no energy in it. Colin assumed the room was empty, but when he looked inside he froze. There was a comatose man on a bed hooked up to machines, much like Guillermo was. And Colin recognized him.

He wanted to walk on and ignore the familiar man, but his feet disagreed with him. He walked in, pulled up a chair next to the bed, and sat down. He awkwardly looked around the room, tapping his shoes against the linoleum floor. It wasn't often that Colin felt self-conscious, but this was one of those rare moments where he didn't know what to do with himself. By nature, an energy vampire's existence hinged on having a captive audience to bore, annoy, and/or bother. Isolation was uncomfortable at best, emaciating at worst. With a task or a goal it was bearable, but here he was, alone, in a sad little room with no goal, in the company of no one but the shell of an old coworker.

Colin cleared his throat. He tapped his foot. He patted his hands against his knees. There was no reason to be here. He couldn't drain what was effectively a living corpse.

But some inexplicable thing kept him planted there, staring at the steady rise and fall of the chest of the man lying in bed, once known as Biff, only a few weeks ago.

He cleared his throat again and knocked a few times on Biff's forehead. "Anybody home?"

No answer.

He knocked again. And waited.

Silence.

Colin sighed. He looked around the room again. There were no flowers, or balloons. Not even a card. Colin thought of Biff's cat. Did he even have family to take Chestnut in?

Biff said nothing, so Colin broke the silence. He prattled on and on about history (Biff's most hated topic of conversation). He talked about the Berlin Wall, Bay of Pigs, the Protestant Reformation. Eventually the one-sided conversation turned from history to work. He talked about how much payroll fell behind after he left.

"You've been replaced, by the way. Took six weeks. Couldn't wait on you forever. Don't worry though, she kept your picture of Chestnut. I could probably snag it for you if you wanted."

Still no response. The monitors continued beeping steadily. Colin thought about Guillermo a few floors up, stuck in bed, being watched over by the vampire who put him there. His stomach rolled unpleasantly. He didn't like the similarities.

"This isn't usually what happens. We try not to drain people to death. Or to a coma, in your case. It was more Evie's fault anyway, she really shouldn't have come into the men's restroom. But don't worry about your replacement, that's never going to happen to her. 'Cause guess what? She's drain-proof! Yeah, bet you wish you had that power, huh?"

He smacked Biff's arm like he would a friend. "Can you believe that? Totally Colin-Robinson proof."

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "It's kind of terrifying actually. Don't tell my roommates I said that, though. If they knew I was scared of a human I'd never hear the end of it. Oh, yeah, I'm not human by the way. Bet that would have shocked you if you were awake. Shock is actually pretty fun to drain. We energy vampires consider it a delicacy."

There was still no answer. He couldn't stand it. "Okay, so maybe this is kind of my fault. I mean, not just my fault, but it is a lot of it. So my bad, I guess."

After a few minutes more of agonizing silence, he slapped his knees and moved to stand. The uncomfortable atmosphere of the room was too much to handle. Vampires and guilt didn't mix. Not that he would admit to feeling any sort of guilt.

As he turned to leave he looked one more time at Biff. It'd be easy to pretend he was only sleeping, that he'd wake up any moment, go back to work, take his job back, and send Joan packing. Then Colin wouldn't have to face her and nothing would have to change.

He left the room and continued his journey home. He took a cab, alone, his mind filled with thoughts of what tomorrow might bring. Maybe Joan replacing him was fate or some form of karmic justice. What was a more fitting punishment for draining Biff than sending someone incapable of ending up like him? If the universe really was starting to punish vampires for their crimes against humans, then he and his roommates were royally fucked.