[Fic] "More or Less the Same," chapter 1 -- BtVS
So I've been reading some Buffy and Angel fics lately. Gotta love those vampires. And a nice young girl slipped up behind me, slid her hand across my neck, and whispered, "I have a story you really ought to tell. You'll like it, I think, and I should know; we have a lot in common." And her breath was cold, like her fingers with their sharp nails, and I thought it might be a good idea to listen.
So here's part one, set early Season 4. No particular spoilers.
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More or Less the Same: Chapter One
---------------------------------------------
My name is Anna Metzger, and I'm a vampire. Which, y'know, sounds like an AA introduction, but hey. It gets the point across.
Anyway, depending on how you look at it, I'm twenty-two or four years old. I was turned just after my eighteenth birthday, which, y'know, was not exactly what I was expecting for a present. Not that I regret dying, per se, but if I could go back and do it over, I'd pass on the eternal unlife, thanks ever so, at least until I looked old enough not to get carded at every bar.
I'm a Jersey girl, born and raised, but for my senior year of high school we moved out to California 'cause Dad finally got a job -- he'd been unemployed three years -- teaching history at UC Sunnydale, and Mom wrangled a job as the university library director. In retrospect, maybe we should've been suspicious at how eager they were to hire Mom as well as Dad. But, y'know, only hindsight's twenty-twenty and all that. We moved, it sucked, I died. I've learned to deal.
This is more or less how my last day of life went: I got up, Bridget -- that's my little sister -- graciously let me shower first as a belated birthday present, I walked the dog, and we went to school, which was, well, school-like. I've never been much good at making friends, but I'd been hanging out with the band geeks and we decided to hit the Bronze that evening. I dressed up a bit 'cause it was sort of my birthday party, which kind of knocked them for a loop -- it always amuses me how much it surprises guys that ordinary girls can be damn sexy if we put in a little effort -- and then Jason Hofstadter offered to walk me home 'cause we lived on the same block.
Jason was a nice guy. It's a shame they didn't turn him too.
I don't remember much about actually dying, which, y'know, is probably for the best. Who needs that trauma on top of being undead? Jason was saying something like, "So maybe next week we can see a movie?" and I was about turning cartwheels inside 'cause my only previous boyfriend turned out to be a pothead stalker and I thought it was about time I got a nice guy. And then boom! Growls from the darkness, yanked into an alley, tearing pain in my neck. I vaguely remember swallowing something, and then that's it. Fuzzy static, lights out, death.
I think being turned means you don't get the whole tunnel of white light experience, probably 'cause what wakes up and remembers isn't your soul. It's your brand new demon. A lot of people -- well, demons and demon-hunters, anyway -- say that 'cause of that, your vampire self isn't really you, just a demon that's taken up residence in your conveniently vacated body. I think that's shit. The way I figure it, I still have all my memories from when I was human, and they're in first person; that's good enough for me.
Also, I hold to the Buddhist idea that a person, as such, isn't really a solid identity. We're just shifting collections of pieces, which means the person you are now literally isn't the person you were yesterday, let alone last year. Switching a soul for a demon is just a slightly more dramatic change than, say, switching from a child to a teenager. Hell, even some of the effects are the same, y'know -- stay up late, get pissy and violent.
So I am Anna Metzger, and I don't care what happened to my soul.
Anyway, I woke up a couple nights later, lying on the lumpy stone floor of a cave, confused as hell and absolutely starving. Also kind of freaked out by the ridged face with yellow eyes leaning over me.
My first words of unlife, words to take with me forever: "Aaah! What the hell?"
The demon guy grabbed my arms as I tried to scramble away and smiled, which, y'know, wasn't exactly reassuring with his fangs. "Hey, calm down," he said. "Give me a minute and I'll explain everything. I'm Todd; what's your name?" His face sort of melted, exchanging demon features for human ones. He had nice eyes, I remember noticing. Kind of grey-green.
"I'm Anna," I told him. "What's going on? Where's Jason?"
"Jason's not here, but don't worry about him," Todd said. "Now let's take this one step at a time. First of all, I'm a vampire."
He stopped, apparently waiting for me to protest, so I obliged him. Sort of. "Is that what the lumpy face and fangs were about?" 'Cause, y'know, it's kind of dumb to claim vampires are impossible when you've just seen a guy with a demon face.
Todd grinned. "Yeah. You're a cool one, Anna. Now step two. You're a vampire, too."
I gaped at him. "I am not! I think I'd know if I were a vampire, thanks ever so."
"Yeah, well, you weren't a few days back but you are now. Check your pulse if you don't believe me." Todd let go of my arms and sat down from his crouch, still grinning at me.
Now, I'd never been able to find my pulse in my wrist, so I tried to feel around on my neck for that steady thumping that would prove Todd wrong. In retrospect I can't see why I wanted to prove him wrong, 'cause that would just have meant I was available as his next meal, but hey. Shock's a funny thing.
Obviously I had no pulse. Shit. "Okay, so I'm undead. What the hell?"
"Hey, be grateful we turned you. We could've just left you in the alley like your little boyfriend," Todd said.
"Jason's dead?"
"Yeah, we killed him."
"Oh." Somehow it was hard to summon up the outrage and horror I thought I ought to be feeling. "Shouldn't I be more upset about that?"
"Nah," Todd said. "That's a benefit of being a vampire -- no more conscience to worry about. How do you think we could kill if we always felt bad about it? You're a demon now; you have a new set of rules."
"Oh," I said again. "So if I killed my calculus teacher, I wouldn't feel bad like I used to when I thought about it?"
"Yeah, that's about it."
He was right. I pictured Mr. Vozzo chained to a wall, pictured myself carving integral signs into his fat gut with a knife, pictured myself slitting his throat. No guilt. Weird. I did have this mad urge to lick the imaginary blood from his skin, though, to not let it go to waste.
Oh yeah, of course. Vampire. I drank blood now, didn't I?
"So no conscience, no pulse, and I drink blood, right?" I asked Todd. "Anything else I need to know?"
"Just the basics," he said, and ticked them off on his fingers. "You're immortal unless something kills you -- which would be direct sunlight, fire, decapitation, or wood through the heart. Lots of other things will hurt like hell, especially holy water and other religious symbols, but not actually kill you. We drink blood to survive. We get stronger as we get older. We can't enter human homes without an invitation. Oh, and we don't reflect but we can be photographed, so get a Polaroid camera if you're desperate to know how you look."
He stood up and offered me a hand. "Now that's out of the way, let's get you something to eat."
The hunger, which I'd temporarily forgotten in my confusion over the whole suddenly undead thing, rushed back in a dizzying wave. I grabbed Todd's hand, and I needed his help to stand up, my knees were that wobbly.
"We should've done this first," he muttered as we walked out of the cave into what looked like an electrical tunnel. "Stupid Fang couldn't be bothered to pay proper attention to the new minion, couldn't even think to drag a meal down here, leaves it all to Juliana when she's busy keeping an eye on the boys..."
I had a feeling that if I'd still been human, I wouldn't have heard a thing he was saying, but his voice was clear in my ears. Everything seemed unnaturally clear, actually. I could see forever down the tunnel, even with the dim, uncertain lighting. I could hear the scritching of rats in the distance, and the folds of our clothing shifting against each other. I could feel muscles I hadn't known I had, moving smoothly with and against each other to propel me in a silent stalk down the tunnel.
Being undead was kind of cool. Especially the enhanced senses. Tentatively I reached up to my face, wondering if I had the weird ridges and fangs Todd had at the beginning. Nothing. But no glasses, either. Double cool!
"Hey, Todd?" I called. "How do you go fangy?"
He slowed and glanced back over his shoulder. "It's hard to explain. Your game face will come out when you feed, and once you feel it you should be able to work out how to shift. Sometimes strong emotions bring it out -- if you'd been buried like normal, escaping your coffin would probably have brought it out."
Okay then. That brought up another issue. "So why wasn't I buried? And what the hell were you talking about before, with Fang and minions and meals?"
Todd rolled his eyes. "Fledglings. Spare me. That gets into local politics. Wait until you've eaten; you'll be able to concentrate better then."
Arrogant bastard. What did he think I was doing, anyway, but trying to distract myself from the hunger? I just didn't want to go wobbly again, y'know?
He climbed up a metal ladder and shoved open a manhole cover, letting us out into an alley near the Bronze. "Wait here," he told me. "You won't be able to hunt discretely yet, so I'll bring you someone."
I would've liked to say he was wrong, but when he hauled a tipsy college girl into the alley a few minutes later, I realized what he meant. The sound of her pulse, the scent of her fear, hell, the scent of her blood as it called to me even through her skin... god, it was intense. I was at Todd's side before I'd decided to move, staring at her pulse as it jumped in her neck.
"Go on, eat already," he snarled, rolling his yellow eyes at me. "I'm not going to keep my hand on her mouth all night."
I bent to her neck, tried to bite with blunt, human teeth, and felt the bones in my face loosen and shift, felt my teeth sharpen and change and slice into that pulse. Heaven.
There is nothing, but nothing, like drinking blood. First you let the heart pump the fluid into your waiting mouth as you swallow to hurry it along. Then you have to suction, have to pull the blood to you as the heart slows and falters, as the arteries and veins start to collapse in on themselves. All along, there's this tang of fear, or desire, depending on how fast or slow you go, on whether or not you move your fangs after the initial bite. And then the heart stops.
I never had sex as a human so I don't know how that compares to the rush of a hunt and a kill; to a vampire, though -- well, to most of us -- blood will beat sex every time. Anyway, the closest I can come is a childhood memory. When we lived in New Jersey, I used to ride my bike through a local park. There was one hill, steep and long, at the beginning of the trail. I used to get up speed on the approach, and then tear down the slope, faster even than the cars on the nearby road. It was like flying. It was freedom.
That's what a kill is like. The ultimate rush. The ultimate freedom. Which, y'know, is ironic since the bloodlust is sort of an addiction, but hey. It's a living. Or unliving, as the case may be.
Anyway, I killed the girl and we left her in a convenient dumpster before heading back down the manhole. Todd, I guess, had eaten something before he brought the girl back to me. So, wobbly knees all better, I cornered him about the 'local politics' he'd avoided earlier.
He rolled his eyes. "Fledglings. Okay, quick lesson. Sunnydale is on top of a Hellmouth, which is a power source and an opening into hell dimensions. The old mayor built the town as a demon haven -- he's dead now, by the way -- which is why there are so many vampires here. But nobody's really in charge anymore.
"You see, a few years back, the Order of Aurelius ran most of the underground, but the Master died and none of his line were strong enough to keep control. Now we run in packs or gangs -- some will call them clans if they're being formal -- and we each have a territory. To complicate everything, the Slayer lives in Sunnydale."
I held up my hands. "Whoa. Okay, Hellmouth, lots of demons, lots of vampires. Check. All that stuff existing? Damn weird, but check. Order of Aurelius? Master? Slayer? A little more background, please? 'Cause, y'know, I only just moved here this summer and I thought the town was normal until I died!"
Todd sighed and rolled his eyes again. That was starting to really get on my nerves. I wondered if vampires could regenerate eyes, or if he'd be blind forever if I gouged them out. "The Order of Aurelius was a vampire clan descended from the Master; they were dedicated to opening the Hellmouth, mostly because the Master wanted to. Usually a clan is defined by blood -- people turned by the same vampire and so on -- but you can join gangs or packs without blood ties. And the Slayer is a girl who kills vampires."
Now I rolled my eyes.
Todd grimaced. "Yeah, I know it sounds like a cheesy movie. But the supernatural doesn't always make lots of sense. Basically, there's a girl who gets special powers to fight evil -- mostly vampires, but also whatever's in the area -- and when she dies, another girl gets the whole deal. The current one lives here to keep tabs on the Hellmouth; it's been more active since the Master tried to open it a few years back. So even though we have a nice set-up with the tunnels and police who look the other way, you have to be careful of her or you'll wind up dusted."
"Dusted?"
"Yeah, did I forget to say? When vampires die we turn to dust, which is convenient for gang wars -- no bodies to dispose of." Todd shrugged.
"Anyway, lately the underground's been a bit of a mess," he continued. "The Slayer's widening her territory, there's a new group of demon-hunters in town with a military set-up, and we're losing people right and left. Fang -- he's mostly in charge of our family -- wanted new minions so we turned you. And we didn't let you be buried because then we'd probably lose you to cremation or to the Slayer when you rose. It's better to have someone around to guide new fledglings."
I rubbed my forehead, realizing in passing that the ridges had faded away. "Okay. So I'm a vampire 'cause you need cannon-fodder in your little vampire squabbles and your fights with demon-hunters. And the guy in charge calls himself Fang? What kind of idiot calls himself Fang when he's a vampire?"
Todd laughed. "I like you, Anna. Yeah, that's about it. Fang's not a bad guy, really; he just likes to play tough." He turned serious then, and put a hand on my shoulder. "Let me give you some advice, though, because I do like you. You're the low man on the totem pole. If anyone else tells you to do something, do it. We're not humans; we don't put up with shit. I like you, but I'd be perfectly happy to kill or torture you. Keep your head down and you've got a chance of living to be a master yourself, but right now, you really are cannon-fodder. Remember that."
"Thanks," I told him. "I'd kind of figured some of that out already; I was wondering if your eyes would grow back if I gouged them out."
Todd grinned. "You're a girl after my own heart. And here I was wondering if you'd be bloodthirsty enough to fit in, considering how careful you were with your first kill."
I shrugged. "She hadn't done anything to me, and I wanted you to answer my questions. So I got it over with quickly."
Todd nodded in understanding, and we walked on to meet my new family.
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End of Chapter One
Continue to Chapter 2
Read the (not necessarily MoLtS canon) vignette about Anna and her family
---------------------------------------------
So here's part one, set early Season 4. No particular spoilers.
---------------------------------------------
More or Less the Same: Chapter One
---------------------------------------------
My name is Anna Metzger, and I'm a vampire. Which, y'know, sounds like an AA introduction, but hey. It gets the point across.
Anyway, depending on how you look at it, I'm twenty-two or four years old. I was turned just after my eighteenth birthday, which, y'know, was not exactly what I was expecting for a present. Not that I regret dying, per se, but if I could go back and do it over, I'd pass on the eternal unlife, thanks ever so, at least until I looked old enough not to get carded at every bar.
I'm a Jersey girl, born and raised, but for my senior year of high school we moved out to California 'cause Dad finally got a job -- he'd been unemployed three years -- teaching history at UC Sunnydale, and Mom wrangled a job as the university library director. In retrospect, maybe we should've been suspicious at how eager they were to hire Mom as well as Dad. But, y'know, only hindsight's twenty-twenty and all that. We moved, it sucked, I died. I've learned to deal.
This is more or less how my last day of life went: I got up, Bridget -- that's my little sister -- graciously let me shower first as a belated birthday present, I walked the dog, and we went to school, which was, well, school-like. I've never been much good at making friends, but I'd been hanging out with the band geeks and we decided to hit the Bronze that evening. I dressed up a bit 'cause it was sort of my birthday party, which kind of knocked them for a loop -- it always amuses me how much it surprises guys that ordinary girls can be damn sexy if we put in a little effort -- and then Jason Hofstadter offered to walk me home 'cause we lived on the same block.
Jason was a nice guy. It's a shame they didn't turn him too.
I don't remember much about actually dying, which, y'know, is probably for the best. Who needs that trauma on top of being undead? Jason was saying something like, "So maybe next week we can see a movie?" and I was about turning cartwheels inside 'cause my only previous boyfriend turned out to be a pothead stalker and I thought it was about time I got a nice guy. And then boom! Growls from the darkness, yanked into an alley, tearing pain in my neck. I vaguely remember swallowing something, and then that's it. Fuzzy static, lights out, death.
I think being turned means you don't get the whole tunnel of white light experience, probably 'cause what wakes up and remembers isn't your soul. It's your brand new demon. A lot of people -- well, demons and demon-hunters, anyway -- say that 'cause of that, your vampire self isn't really you, just a demon that's taken up residence in your conveniently vacated body. I think that's shit. The way I figure it, I still have all my memories from when I was human, and they're in first person; that's good enough for me.
Also, I hold to the Buddhist idea that a person, as such, isn't really a solid identity. We're just shifting collections of pieces, which means the person you are now literally isn't the person you were yesterday, let alone last year. Switching a soul for a demon is just a slightly more dramatic change than, say, switching from a child to a teenager. Hell, even some of the effects are the same, y'know -- stay up late, get pissy and violent.
So I am Anna Metzger, and I don't care what happened to my soul.
Anyway, I woke up a couple nights later, lying on the lumpy stone floor of a cave, confused as hell and absolutely starving. Also kind of freaked out by the ridged face with yellow eyes leaning over me.
My first words of unlife, words to take with me forever: "Aaah! What the hell?"
The demon guy grabbed my arms as I tried to scramble away and smiled, which, y'know, wasn't exactly reassuring with his fangs. "Hey, calm down," he said. "Give me a minute and I'll explain everything. I'm Todd; what's your name?" His face sort of melted, exchanging demon features for human ones. He had nice eyes, I remember noticing. Kind of grey-green.
"I'm Anna," I told him. "What's going on? Where's Jason?"
"Jason's not here, but don't worry about him," Todd said. "Now let's take this one step at a time. First of all, I'm a vampire."
He stopped, apparently waiting for me to protest, so I obliged him. Sort of. "Is that what the lumpy face and fangs were about?" 'Cause, y'know, it's kind of dumb to claim vampires are impossible when you've just seen a guy with a demon face.
Todd grinned. "Yeah. You're a cool one, Anna. Now step two. You're a vampire, too."
I gaped at him. "I am not! I think I'd know if I were a vampire, thanks ever so."
"Yeah, well, you weren't a few days back but you are now. Check your pulse if you don't believe me." Todd let go of my arms and sat down from his crouch, still grinning at me.
Now, I'd never been able to find my pulse in my wrist, so I tried to feel around on my neck for that steady thumping that would prove Todd wrong. In retrospect I can't see why I wanted to prove him wrong, 'cause that would just have meant I was available as his next meal, but hey. Shock's a funny thing.
Obviously I had no pulse. Shit. "Okay, so I'm undead. What the hell?"
"Hey, be grateful we turned you. We could've just left you in the alley like your little boyfriend," Todd said.
"Jason's dead?"
"Yeah, we killed him."
"Oh." Somehow it was hard to summon up the outrage and horror I thought I ought to be feeling. "Shouldn't I be more upset about that?"
"Nah," Todd said. "That's a benefit of being a vampire -- no more conscience to worry about. How do you think we could kill if we always felt bad about it? You're a demon now; you have a new set of rules."
"Oh," I said again. "So if I killed my calculus teacher, I wouldn't feel bad like I used to when I thought about it?"
"Yeah, that's about it."
He was right. I pictured Mr. Vozzo chained to a wall, pictured myself carving integral signs into his fat gut with a knife, pictured myself slitting his throat. No guilt. Weird. I did have this mad urge to lick the imaginary blood from his skin, though, to not let it go to waste.
Oh yeah, of course. Vampire. I drank blood now, didn't I?
"So no conscience, no pulse, and I drink blood, right?" I asked Todd. "Anything else I need to know?"
"Just the basics," he said, and ticked them off on his fingers. "You're immortal unless something kills you -- which would be direct sunlight, fire, decapitation, or wood through the heart. Lots of other things will hurt like hell, especially holy water and other religious symbols, but not actually kill you. We drink blood to survive. We get stronger as we get older. We can't enter human homes without an invitation. Oh, and we don't reflect but we can be photographed, so get a Polaroid camera if you're desperate to know how you look."
He stood up and offered me a hand. "Now that's out of the way, let's get you something to eat."
The hunger, which I'd temporarily forgotten in my confusion over the whole suddenly undead thing, rushed back in a dizzying wave. I grabbed Todd's hand, and I needed his help to stand up, my knees were that wobbly.
"We should've done this first," he muttered as we walked out of the cave into what looked like an electrical tunnel. "Stupid Fang couldn't be bothered to pay proper attention to the new minion, couldn't even think to drag a meal down here, leaves it all to Juliana when she's busy keeping an eye on the boys..."
I had a feeling that if I'd still been human, I wouldn't have heard a thing he was saying, but his voice was clear in my ears. Everything seemed unnaturally clear, actually. I could see forever down the tunnel, even with the dim, uncertain lighting. I could hear the scritching of rats in the distance, and the folds of our clothing shifting against each other. I could feel muscles I hadn't known I had, moving smoothly with and against each other to propel me in a silent stalk down the tunnel.
Being undead was kind of cool. Especially the enhanced senses. Tentatively I reached up to my face, wondering if I had the weird ridges and fangs Todd had at the beginning. Nothing. But no glasses, either. Double cool!
"Hey, Todd?" I called. "How do you go fangy?"
He slowed and glanced back over his shoulder. "It's hard to explain. Your game face will come out when you feed, and once you feel it you should be able to work out how to shift. Sometimes strong emotions bring it out -- if you'd been buried like normal, escaping your coffin would probably have brought it out."
Okay then. That brought up another issue. "So why wasn't I buried? And what the hell were you talking about before, with Fang and minions and meals?"
Todd rolled his eyes. "Fledglings. Spare me. That gets into local politics. Wait until you've eaten; you'll be able to concentrate better then."
Arrogant bastard. What did he think I was doing, anyway, but trying to distract myself from the hunger? I just didn't want to go wobbly again, y'know?
He climbed up a metal ladder and shoved open a manhole cover, letting us out into an alley near the Bronze. "Wait here," he told me. "You won't be able to hunt discretely yet, so I'll bring you someone."
I would've liked to say he was wrong, but when he hauled a tipsy college girl into the alley a few minutes later, I realized what he meant. The sound of her pulse, the scent of her fear, hell, the scent of her blood as it called to me even through her skin... god, it was intense. I was at Todd's side before I'd decided to move, staring at her pulse as it jumped in her neck.
"Go on, eat already," he snarled, rolling his yellow eyes at me. "I'm not going to keep my hand on her mouth all night."
I bent to her neck, tried to bite with blunt, human teeth, and felt the bones in my face loosen and shift, felt my teeth sharpen and change and slice into that pulse. Heaven.
There is nothing, but nothing, like drinking blood. First you let the heart pump the fluid into your waiting mouth as you swallow to hurry it along. Then you have to suction, have to pull the blood to you as the heart slows and falters, as the arteries and veins start to collapse in on themselves. All along, there's this tang of fear, or desire, depending on how fast or slow you go, on whether or not you move your fangs after the initial bite. And then the heart stops.
I never had sex as a human so I don't know how that compares to the rush of a hunt and a kill; to a vampire, though -- well, to most of us -- blood will beat sex every time. Anyway, the closest I can come is a childhood memory. When we lived in New Jersey, I used to ride my bike through a local park. There was one hill, steep and long, at the beginning of the trail. I used to get up speed on the approach, and then tear down the slope, faster even than the cars on the nearby road. It was like flying. It was freedom.
That's what a kill is like. The ultimate rush. The ultimate freedom. Which, y'know, is ironic since the bloodlust is sort of an addiction, but hey. It's a living. Or unliving, as the case may be.
Anyway, I killed the girl and we left her in a convenient dumpster before heading back down the manhole. Todd, I guess, had eaten something before he brought the girl back to me. So, wobbly knees all better, I cornered him about the 'local politics' he'd avoided earlier.
He rolled his eyes. "Fledglings. Okay, quick lesson. Sunnydale is on top of a Hellmouth, which is a power source and an opening into hell dimensions. The old mayor built the town as a demon haven -- he's dead now, by the way -- which is why there are so many vampires here. But nobody's really in charge anymore.
"You see, a few years back, the Order of Aurelius ran most of the underground, but the Master died and none of his line were strong enough to keep control. Now we run in packs or gangs -- some will call them clans if they're being formal -- and we each have a territory. To complicate everything, the Slayer lives in Sunnydale."
I held up my hands. "Whoa. Okay, Hellmouth, lots of demons, lots of vampires. Check. All that stuff existing? Damn weird, but check. Order of Aurelius? Master? Slayer? A little more background, please? 'Cause, y'know, I only just moved here this summer and I thought the town was normal until I died!"
Todd sighed and rolled his eyes again. That was starting to really get on my nerves. I wondered if vampires could regenerate eyes, or if he'd be blind forever if I gouged them out. "The Order of Aurelius was a vampire clan descended from the Master; they were dedicated to opening the Hellmouth, mostly because the Master wanted to. Usually a clan is defined by blood -- people turned by the same vampire and so on -- but you can join gangs or packs without blood ties. And the Slayer is a girl who kills vampires."
Now I rolled my eyes.
Todd grimaced. "Yeah, I know it sounds like a cheesy movie. But the supernatural doesn't always make lots of sense. Basically, there's a girl who gets special powers to fight evil -- mostly vampires, but also whatever's in the area -- and when she dies, another girl gets the whole deal. The current one lives here to keep tabs on the Hellmouth; it's been more active since the Master tried to open it a few years back. So even though we have a nice set-up with the tunnels and police who look the other way, you have to be careful of her or you'll wind up dusted."
"Dusted?"
"Yeah, did I forget to say? When vampires die we turn to dust, which is convenient for gang wars -- no bodies to dispose of." Todd shrugged.
"Anyway, lately the underground's been a bit of a mess," he continued. "The Slayer's widening her territory, there's a new group of demon-hunters in town with a military set-up, and we're losing people right and left. Fang -- he's mostly in charge of our family -- wanted new minions so we turned you. And we didn't let you be buried because then we'd probably lose you to cremation or to the Slayer when you rose. It's better to have someone around to guide new fledglings."
I rubbed my forehead, realizing in passing that the ridges had faded away. "Okay. So I'm a vampire 'cause you need cannon-fodder in your little vampire squabbles and your fights with demon-hunters. And the guy in charge calls himself Fang? What kind of idiot calls himself Fang when he's a vampire?"
Todd laughed. "I like you, Anna. Yeah, that's about it. Fang's not a bad guy, really; he just likes to play tough." He turned serious then, and put a hand on my shoulder. "Let me give you some advice, though, because I do like you. You're the low man on the totem pole. If anyone else tells you to do something, do it. We're not humans; we don't put up with shit. I like you, but I'd be perfectly happy to kill or torture you. Keep your head down and you've got a chance of living to be a master yourself, but right now, you really are cannon-fodder. Remember that."
"Thanks," I told him. "I'd kind of figured some of that out already; I was wondering if your eyes would grow back if I gouged them out."
Todd grinned. "You're a girl after my own heart. And here I was wondering if you'd be bloodthirsty enough to fit in, considering how careful you were with your first kill."
I shrugged. "She hadn't done anything to me, and I wanted you to answer my questions. So I got it over with quickly."
Todd nodded in understanding, and we walked on to meet my new family.
---------------------------------------------
End of Chapter One
Continue to Chapter 2
Read the (not necessarily MoLtS canon) vignette about Anna and her family
---------------------------------------------