The Blood Calls

Chapter One -Recovering is Hard to Do

Lena socked the man square on the nose then turned around and started running. She was doing it again. She was gonna have to make a very uncomfortable call to her sponsor later tonight. As soon as she was down the block and safely tucked behind a dumpster in the alley she looked down at the blood on her knuckles. She suckled each drop off her hand with care. The high hit her immediately and everything else disappeared. She sat on the street and flopped her head on the brick wall behind her.

People generally had the wrong idea about vampires. The drinking blood thing was right, but only through certain places. You had to catch it before it went through the lungs. That's what gave the best highs. There were a few other abnormalities to being a vampire, though not as extreme as myths made them out to be. Perhaps the thing that bothered Lena the most was the belief that vampires were created. She was born predisposed to the ability to drink blood and get an incredible high off it. And she could see in the dark. She didn't know what that was all about. She never understood how it worked, and generally speaking she hated it. Kept her up all night.

She lolled her head over and tried to push off the ground. Her legs felt like they'd been stuffed with hot jello. She needed to get home. Dan was probably expecting her an hour ago. She'd have made it too if she hadn't smelled that guy in the bakery. His blood was so overpowering that it pushed out the smell of the fresh baked bread. She'd made it to ten days sober this time. All in all, she'd say that was an accomplishment.

She took a shaky step out towards the street, then another. Confidence surged through her and she stood up a little straighter. Her phone started buzzing in her purse. She stumbled a little towards the main road as she dug in her bag. She nearly knocked an innocent passerby in the nose as she pulled it out.

"Sorry!"

She hollered back at him as she kept going. Dan was calling. She took a deep breath and settled the spinning concrete before she hit the accept button.

"Hey, honey!" she said in her sweetest, most not blood drunk voice.

"Where are you?"

His voice was stern. It wasn't anything new, but there was an extra hint of annoyance in it that told Lena he was disappointed. She felt her face getting hot as she continued to stumble down the street.

"At this very moment," Lena looked around for a street sign as she hiked her purse up on her shoulder, "I'm at...first and...Jeffson."

She heard him sigh heavily on the other end.

"Do you mean Jefferson?"

"That's what I said."

There was another heavy sigh. Lena felt the concrete beneath her tilting. She leaned her hand against the nearest brick wall to steady herself.

"Did you get the loaf of bread?"

Panic suddenly shot through her. Almost enough to sober her for a split second.

"Of course," she lied. It didn't sound convincing to her.

"When are you coming home?"

Lena looked at her phone screen. Her eyes almost bugged out of her skull. She'd been gone for over two hours. The bread shop was right around the corner from their apartment. She was at least a thirty minute walk away.

"Twenty minutes."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. She clenched her teeth. She really hated when he killed her buzz like this. Her shoe hit a dip in the pavement and she fumbled her feet. She dropped her phone as she steadied herself. She nearly fell over again as she tried to pick it back up. People were weaving around her. She didn't remember the street getting this busy.

"Hello? Dan? Honey?"

The line was silent. She looked at her screen. The call was active for a second longer before it ended. She shoved the phone back into her purse. He'd be angry about that when she got home. Another jolt of panic ran through her. She told him she would be home in twenty minutes. She had to be sober by then. She also needed to get another loaf of bread. The other one didn't make it through the scuffle with that delicious tasting man. She looked around her. She'd made it to the street the bakery was on. Her head was starting to clear. Time was getting more and more easier to sense.

As the bakery came into view, Lena felt her heart drop. The lights were off. She trotted closer, thinking maybe it was the glare of the sinking sun that made the shop look empty. By the time she made it to the glass doors, she knew her fate had been sealed.

The lights were off inside. The sun highlighting her from behind made the glass door look like a mirror. She stood transfixed by her appearance for a moment. Her hair was a little disheveled. She combed her fingers through one side and tried to wipe the black circles of mascara from under her eyes. She licked her lips realizing how dry her mouth felt.

Lena let out a heavy sigh. She didn't like mirrors for the very reason that it reminded her of what she was. The past that she couldn't escape. On the inside, she felt like she was sixty five years old. She wasn't far from that in years, but her reflection told an entirely different story. Her body hadn't aged a day past twenty.

"There she is!"

Lena heard a nasally scream from down the street. She turned her head in the direction of the voice and saw the man she'd pushed. He was pointing her out to an officer as he held a piece of toilet paper to his face. For a split second Lena thought about turning and running. She'd just drank and the high was worn off enough that she could think a little straighter. She could outrun them easily.

The officer turned and looked up at her. Any plans of running were moot. Officer Morty knew her too well. He tightened the corners of his lips in a disapproving gesture as he started to walk towards her.

"Damn it, Lena," he called when he was still a few steps away. "I had high hopes for you this time."