Inside, we took our seats. An elderly woman came to take our orders. The girl asked for a bottle of 5 Alive. Juliet and I ordered two Smirnoffs.
As we sat there, she spoke passionately about Jesus—about love, sacrifice, and salvation. About the second coming and heaven.
I heard none of it.
All I could see was her neck.
I couldn't hold back much longer.
Juliet noticed and decided to act.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said kindly, "but what's your name?"
"Sarah," the girl replied.
"Well, Sarah," Juliet said, standing, "would you mind escorting me to the bathroom? I don't really like going alone."
"Sure," Sarah said without hesitation.
They walked toward the far end of the bar. Just before they turned the corner, Juliet glanced back at me—just for a second.
That was my signal.
I waited a full minute, then made my way to the women's bathroom. I pushed the door open abruptly.
They were both inside.
Sarah gasped in shock.
Before she could say a word, I moved.
In a blur of speed that wasn't human, I closed the distance between us and went straight for her neck.
My fangs sank deep into her neck.
She screamed, her hands clawing at my arms as she struggled to push me away. Her heartbeat thundered in my ears, loud and frantic. Slowly, her screams weakened. Her grip loosened. Her heartbeat slowed—but I didn't stop.
I fed like I had been starving my entire life.
"Daniel," Juliet's voice cut through the chaos, firm but controlled. "You don't need to rush. She isn't going anywhere. You don't need to—she isn't a hot yam in your mouth. Slow down. Just imagine yourself as a mosquito, calmly feeding. Be calm, damn it… Okay. That's enough."
With surprising strength, Juliet pulled me back. Sarah collapsed to the floor.
For the first time, I became aware of my fangs—long, sharp, fully extended. Blood covered my face, warm and thick.
Juliet knelt beside Sarah and lifted her up. She was unconscious. Juliet pressed her lips to Sarah's neck for a few seconds. The bleeding stopped instantly. Sarah coughed weakly and stirred, her eyes fluttering open in confusion.
"As you can see," Juliet began calmly, "she's back to herself and—"
Before she could finish, something inside me snapped.
I shoved Juliet aside with the same force she had used on me earlier and lunged for Sarah again.
There was no scream this time.
No struggle.
Before I could even process what I was doing, Sarah's head rolled from her body and hit the floor.
That was when I stopped.
I stood there, breathing heavily, staring at what I had done. Her eyes were wide open. Her mouth frozen mid-expression. Her body lay still, completely drained of blood. My hands were soaked red.
I turned to Juliet. She watched me with no expression on her face.
"What have I done?" I whispered.
"You went too far," she said evenly. "But it's okay. The faster it happens, the faster you learn control."
Tears streamed down my face. "I killed someone. Oh my God… I just killed an innocent person."
Panic set in, sharp and overwhelming.
"Sit down," she said gently. "I'll fix it."
I sank to the floor, staring at Sarah's lifeless body in disbelief.
"What do I do now?" I asked, my voice breaking.
"Stay here," Juliet replied. "Don't let anyone in. I'll be right back."
"I'm supposed to stay here… with her?"
"I'll be right back, Daniel."
She grabbed the door and left.
Moments later, Sarah's BlackBerry buzzed.
An incoming call.
I rushed over and switched it off. The caller ID read: Dad.
It rang again.
And again.
Then it stopped.
A text message appeared.
We are all going home now. Where are you?
My hands trembled as I powered the phone off completely.
Footsteps echoed outside.
My heart raced. Had I been discovered? Was it one of the hunters Juliet warned me about?
The door opened.
Relief washed over me as Juliet stepped in, carrying a travel bag.
Juliet closed the door behind her and locked it.
For a moment, she simply stood there, looking at the body on the floor. Not with shock. Not with sadness. With calculation.
"First rule," she said calmly, setting the bag down. "Panic helps no one."
I couldn't respond. My eyes were glued to Sarah's body, my stomach twisting even though I felt no urge to vomit. Just horror. Just guilt.
Juliet crouched beside the corpse and examined it like a doctor inspecting a patient.
"You completely drained her," she continued. "No blood left to work with. That means we do this the hard way."
She unzipped the bag.
Inside were black plastic sheets, gloves, disinfectants, a change of clothes, heavy-duty trash bags, and a small metal blade that looked ancient—its surface etched with strange symbols I couldn't read.
"This isn't your first time cleaning up," I said weakly.
She didn't look at me. "No. And it won't be your last, if you survive long enough."
She tossed me a pair of gloves. I caught them instinctively.
"Put them on."
"I—I can't," I said. My hands were shaking. "I can't touch her."
Juliet finally looked at me then. Her eyes were cold, but not unkind.
"Daniel," she said quietly, "you already did worse."
That did it.
I slipped the gloves on.
Juliet spread the black plastic across the bathroom floor with practiced precision, lifting Sarah's body onto it as if she weighed nothing. There was no ceremony. No prayer. Just efficiency.
"Hunters don't follow blood," she explained as she worked. "They follow patterns. Mess. Noise. Emotion."
She paused and looked at me. "You were all three."
She handed me a cloth soaked in a sharp-smelling liquid. "Clean the walls. Anywhere her blood touched."
I scrubbed mechanically, my mind detached from my body. Every smear of red felt like an accusation. The smell of disinfectant mixed with iron burned my nose.
"Her head," Juliet said. "Bring it."
I froze.
"I said bring it," she repeated, firmer this time.
My legs moved before my mind could catch up. I picked it up with both hands, avoiding her eyes, and placed it beside the body.
Juliet wrapped it carefully in plastic.
"No fingerprints," she muttered. "No hair. No witnesses."
She pulled out the blade and pressed it against her own palm. Dark blood welled up—thicker than human blood, almost black.
She traced symbols on Sarah's forehead and chest, whispering something under her breath. The air grew heavy, thick, like the room was holding its breath.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Erasing her," Juliet replied.
The symbols glowed faintly, then faded. The room felt… quieter.
"Anyone who saw her tonight will forget," she continued. "Faces blur. Memories soften. By morning, she'll just be another missing person."
My chest tightened. "Her family—"
"Will suffer," she said flatly. "Yes."
She met my eyes. "That's the part you don't get to avoid."
We worked in silence after that.
The body was sealed, the room spotless. Even the air felt cleaner—too clean. Like nothing bad had ever happened there.
Juliet tied the final bag and straightened up.
"Change your clothes," she said. "Burn them later."
I looked down at myself—at the blood I hadn't noticed anymore.
"What happens now?" I asked.
Juliet zipped the bag shut.
"Now," she said, lifting it effortlessly, "you live with it."
She walked toward the door, then paused.
"And Daniel?"
I looked up.
"If the hunters had seen this… you'd already be dead."
The door opened.
I couldn't say a word as we left the bar. The moment we stepped outside, I felt it—the transition completing. My senses sharpened violently. Every smell became overwhelming, every sound unbearable. I could hear everything: fragments of conversations from every direction, voices overlapping and crashing into my head as if they were being shouted directly into my ears. It was deafening.
I clutched my head and covered my ears, but it didn't help.
Juliet placed an arm around my shoulder and leaned in close, her lips brushing my ear as she whispered, "Follow the sound of my voice. Only mine."
She gently pulled my hands away, and we began to walk. She spoke as we moved, and I focused on her voice, letting it guide me through the chaos.
"You've completed your transition," she said calmly. "You're going to feel different for a while, but you'll adjust. You're no longer human. You're above them now. Their rules don't apply to you anymore. You're free, Daniel. Truly free."
Her voice softened slightly.
"But you can't rely on me forever. I won't always be there like I was tonight. You need to learn how to feed without losing control. If you keep ripping heads off, you'll get caught—and your new life will end before it even begins."
I followed her through the crowd like a lost child, clinging to the sound of her voice as it cut through the echoes of millions of others. Eventually, we arrived back at her hotel.
Upstairs, I finally spoke.
"What do I do now?"
"You need to rest," she replied. "Your body is going through massive changes. You already know where you need to go."
My eyes drifted to the coffin I had emerged from earlier, still half open. I climbed inside slowly. As she moved to close it, I stopped her.
"Can you stay with me?"
She smiled, but there was something distant in her eyes. "I need to meet someone. And I need to take care of our dead friend."
At her words, the memory rushed back without warning—the blood, the scream, the lifeless body. Guilt hit me like a wave.
"Don't be too hard on yourself," she said gently. "It happens to every vampire. This is how we learn. This is how we grow."
"That doesn't make it easier," I said.
"I know," she replied. "But you have an eternity to come to terms with it. Rest now."
She closed the coffin.
Almost instantly, my body began to heal. The noise faded. My senses dulled. The world went quiet.
Within minutes, I was asleep.