Joshua Randolph, or "Josh" to his friends and temporary vampire roommate, sipped from a very rge offering of iced coffee from the 7-11 near "Spsh Laundromat," where he was currently watching over the washing and drying of a vampire's underwear. He silently cursed Caleb for his preference for denim, as it was going to take forever to dry. He sat back, watched the game show on the television (a re-run of "Shark Attack") and ate some breakfast tacos he got for breakfast.

  All in all, not the worst start to the day, but certainly in the bottom 20th percentile of starts to the day. But it was a day. Days were rexing.

  If he kept a gratitude journal, "the voices in my head compelling me to kill don't bother me during the day" would probably be the first thing that would go in it.

  Shit. Now that he had some food in him, he realized he was going to actually have to read "Dracu." He only saw the movie version. The one where Dracu was pyed by Leslie Nielson.

  Luckily the book was in the public domain, and he was pretty sure he could find it online. Well -- no time like the present. After all, Caleb's jacket alone was going to take another hour to dry.

  Chapter 1. Johnathan Harker's Journal, (Kept in shorthand.)

  3 May. Bistritz.—Left Munich at 8:35 p. m., on 1st May, arriving at Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6:46, but train was an hour te. Buda-Pesth seems a wonderful pce, from the glimpse which I got of it from the train and the little I could walk through the streets. I feared to go very far from the station...

  Ugh. Joshua was bored already. There was a certain amount of irony to the idea that he, a professional chef, was not interested in Johnathan Harker's Food Blog. 'I don't care how lovely the chicken dishes in Romania are, Bram,' he thought. 'Get to the fucking point.'

  He sat there, reading the cssic book - trudging through it at points, sighing. Eventually he looked up when the dryer buzzed, and Caleb's clothing was dry. He got up and grabbed the clean clothes from the dryer and turned.

  He turned, and looking straight at him was a figure. A man, with an unsuitably long bck coat for the desert weather and a bck Stetson so dark it looked like it came with a complimentary horse theft—part WWE Undertaker, part spaghetti western vilin, and just pretentious enough to suggest he practiced brooding in the mirror.

  As Joshua turned to face him, the mysterious figure suddenly ran off. He could have ran after him, but he had a feeling he'd have other opportunities. Josh sighed. Being haunted by the ghost of Johnny Cash was just one more problem than he needed right now.

  He headed out towards the window where the man was staring, and watched the mysterious stranger run off down to the end of the parking lot. Joshua quickly stopped by the window where the mysterious figure was staring.

  And he noticed that the figure left a smear of... something on the gss, where his hands touched it. He rubbed a finger along it - it was a greasy substance. Ectopsm?

  He smelled it.

  No!

  He knew that smell. Every Vegas resident knows that smell.

  Sunblock. Whoever was following him was just sthered in sunblock.

  Joshua changed his mind. Finding this guy - or vampire - or whatever he was - was now a priority.

  ***

  Stelian fucked up. He knew he fucked up. He still didn't know how badly he fucked up, but he knew he had fucked up. And why did he park so fucking far away?

  The whole point of staking out a serial killer is that the serial killer doesn't notice you're there. The Stalker looked right at him.

  Why, why did he think this was a good idea?

  Then Stelian remembered why: he was crushing on Pantessa and wanted to be a hero.

  'Stupid, stupid idiot!' said Stelian to himself, as he was running away from the undromat.

  He got into the car he borrowed from his mom (she said she was fine with it), started the engine, and was about to pull out of the parking space when his exit was blocked by a van.

  A red van.

  A red. Ford. Econoline. Van.

  Stelian winced.

  And in the rear view mirror, Stelian saw the fucking serial killer get out of the drivers seat, with Caleb's jacket, barely covering what was probably a shotgun of some sort.

  And the serial killer calmly walked over next to the driver's side of the car, and gently rapped a knuckle on the driver's side window. He didn't point the gun at Stelian. Yet.

  Stelian rolled down the window.

  "Hi," said the serial killer.

  "Hhhhhhhhiiii," said the vampire.

  "My name's Joshua. I, uh, was just wondering, were you following me just now? In the undromat?"

  "uh..... nnnnnn-no?" said Stelian.

  "I'll take that as a yes," said Joshua. "What's your name, kid?"

  Stelian bnked, and tried to come up with a convincing sounding fake name.

  "uhhhhhh... Crk... Kent--erson?"

  "Look, do you know who wears this jacket?"

  Stelian nodded.

  "Right. So I know him too. And judging from the amount of sunblock you're wearing and your complete incompetence at stealthy approaches, I don't think you're some sort of... vampire hunter. Wesley Snipes, you are not. Which means you don't have to pretend or give me your livename. Deadname's fine."

  An 'oh-shit' look befell Stelian's face.

  "St--Stelian. What did you do to Caleb?"

  "Stelian? Okay. Now we're getting somewhere. Caleb is perfectly fine. Well, he's unharmed. It was... a rough initial meeting, but we came to a mutual understanding. What are you doing following me, Stelian?"

  "Um..."

  "Take your time. No rush," said Josh.

  "I was trying to track you down to find Caleb and also stop you because you're--"

  "It's okay. You can say it."

  "A serial killer," said Stelian. "And you murdered my friend."

  Now it was Joshua's turn to have an oh-shit look on his face.

  "I'm sorry," said Joshua. "Who was she? Wait... don't tell me. I don't... I don't want to know right now."

  "Pants," said Stelian.

  Joshua looked confused.

  "Pants?"

  "Her name was Pants."

  Joshua tried to remember for a moment. He heard that name before somewhere, but couldn't quite pce it at that moment.

  "Oh. Unusual name. Still... I'm sorry. I don't know if you'll believe me, but... it's not me. I mean, it is me, but I... I don't want to do it. I never wanted to do it. Something or someone is making me do it."

  Stelian's mind raced. Joshua -- the Stalker! -- was right here. Sure, he was armed with a shotgun and it was the middle of the day and Stelian really wasn't feeling 100% because of it, and yeah, Stelian was sitting down, inside a car while the Stalker had the high ground and was already on his feet... but... Stelian was a vampire. Maybe Stelian could take him. Maybe. He just needed to wait for the right moment...

  "Stelian, I know this is going to sound insane, but I think Caleb and I could use your help," said Joshua.

  "Huh?" said Stelian.

  "I... can't bring your friend back. I'm sorry. And I can't stop killing on my own. So I'm working with Caleb. But I think even if someone were to stop me by killing me, it'd just start up again in a couple of decades, with some other poor bastard. I can't undo the past. But if I can, I want to end this once and for all. I think that's what your friend would have wanted too."

  "Well," said Stelian, "this has taken an unexpected turn. No, wait. How do I know you're not just going to lure me to my death and steal my clothing? Maybe that's what you did to Caleb."

  "Unlike you, I wouldn't be caught dead -- literally caught dead -- wearing that stuff," said Joshua. He motioned to the denim jacket. "Or Caleb's stuff, for that matter."

  "Touché."

  "Look, Caleb and I are staying in the Motel 6 by Boulder Station. Room 108. If you want, you can meet us there after sundown."

  Stelian paused, thinking, then finally said, "Okay."

  "Oh, one st thing. If you... still have biological functions, you should go before you get to the room. The bathroom's occupied."

  "Oh, good," said Stelian. "Not that I do, but I'm just gd Caleb's safe. The guy can be a real asshole sometimes, but, he's not all bad. Just... jaded and beaten down by the world."

  "Aren't we all?" said Joshua. "Motel 6 by Boulder Station. Room 108. Oh, give a 'shave and a haircut' knock, so we know it's you."

  "I'll do that."

  "Good man. Or... good vampire. Or whatever. And... again, I'm sorry about your friend."

  "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to," Stelian said. "You should be apologizing to her."

  "If only I could, Stelian, if only I could," said Joshua, who walked off back to the van before Stelian could expin that Pants -- Pantessa, rather -- was still walking around and very much could hear an apology.

  ***

  When sundown finally arrived, Stelian was already waiting at Angelina's storage locker to share the news. Pantessa and Angelina listened to him tell the story, then, after a few moments of silence, Pantessa spoke.

  "There are three important things I want to say to you. In order of priority from most important to least important."

  Pantessa raised a finger.

  "First, I'm gd you're alright."

  Pantessa raised a second finger.

  "Second, that was incredibly stupid and I never want you to put yourself at risk like that again."

  Finally, Pantessa raised a middle finger.

  "Third, what the fuck do you mean the man who murdered me asked for your help?"

  Stelian shrugged. "To be fair, he seemed really shook up by your murder."

  "Oh! He seemed shook up?" she indignantly replied.

  "I mean, he asked for my help. He caught me spying on him, and instead of shooting me, he asked for my help."

  "No shit, he caught you," said Angelina, leaning up against one of the walls of her storage locker. "You look conspicuous as hell. Like you were drawn by Antonio Prohías himself."

  "Who?" asked Stelian and Pantessa, in unison.

  "'Spy vs. Spy'. Mad magazine. You two didn't have Mad Magazine as kids?"

  "We had Mad TV," said Stelian. "But I couldn't stay up te enough to watch it."

  Angelina rolled her eyes. "Point is, take that stupid shit off."

  "Yeah," said Pantessa. "Get rid of that coat. It makes you look ridiculous."

  Stelian took off the coat, leaving just a pair of bck pants, and a bck t-shirt, which clung tightly to his frame.

  Pantessa had to admit that her crush had not diminished since yesterday, and despite his actions being incredibly stupid, they were incredibly galnt as well. And Stelian did have a really nice voice. She bit her lower lip, and thought, 'you know, with the right clothing...'

  Stelian then moved to take off his Stetson.

  "No!" said Pantessa, with urgency.

  Stelian froze, and even Angelina was looking at Pantessa with curiosity.

  "Hat stays on," Pantessa said.

  "Hat stays on?" Stelian asked.

  "Hat. Stays. On."

  Angelina shrugged. "Lady said 'hat stays on,' Stelian."

  "Hat says on," Stelian agreed. "Let's go get Caleb."

  As the three vampires headed towards Stelian's mom's car, to drive to the Motel 6, Pantessa caught herself idly thinking: 'Hat stays on. Shirt comes off.' God, her libido was going a thousand miles an hour ever since she supped on Vincent.

  ***

  "You actually washed my clothing?" said Caleb, wrapped in a hotel towel around the waist.

  "I get that it doesn't make up for almost dooming you to a fate worse than death, but it's something," said Joshua.

  Caleb sniffed it. No lingering garlic smell. He put on the tightie-whities underneath the hotel towel then tossed the towel over the towel rack. His jeans and jean jacket were still a little damp, so he left them over the towel rack as well and turned on the overhead heater in the bathroom to try to dry them out a little bit more before putting them on.

  "Thanks. So, you met Stelian. I give him a lot of shit. Unfairly. Because I'm a bit of a bigot."

  "A bigot?"

  "Yeah. I'm jealous. He can walk around in the sunlight. I can't. So I take it out on him. I shouldn't. What, he should spend his life in darkness because I'm cursed to? I should be happy for him, not... trying to tear him down. I know this sounds weird, but I haven't been the best person tely."

  "No shit, you're a vampire. You're not really a person," Joshua pointed out.

  "I'm not human. That doesn't make me not a person," said Caleb. "But... I've been... I've been losing what it means to be humane, tely. Getting cold, and cynical. I don't know. Maybe that's why all the vampires in the stories are hundred year old bastards. Life long enough and you lose connection to everything that makes you a kind, empathetic person, and just become a cold, cynical husk."

  "Need a hug?" asked Joshua, sarcastically.

  "Yes," said Caleb, genuinely.

  "Oh," said Joshua. "I, uh, didn't think..."

  "Don't worry about it," said Caleb. "Besides, we might get your curse lifted, but mine doesn't go away, I don't think. After this, you'll probably want to steer clear of me."

  Joshua wanted to instinctually say: 'no, of course not,' because that would be the polite thing to do, but Caleb was right. He had enough of the supernatural for a hundred lifetimes and if he never saw another vampire in his life, he'd be happy.

  There was a knock at the door. A 'shave-and-a-haircut-knock.' Speak of the devil.

  "That'll be Stelian. Alright to let him in?" asked Joshua.

  "Let him in."

  Joshua opened the door, and Stelian was there. Along with a woman wearing cat-eye gsses that he had never met... and a woman he very much had.

  "Oh my god," said Joshua and Pantessa in unison. "You!"

  Driven with mindless rage, Pantessa leaped at Joshua, fangs bared and out to kill. She took a flying leap at him, and Joshua fell backwards trying to get away from the vampire clearly out for revenge.

  "You son of a bitch! I'll kill you! I'll make you suffer you murdering bastard!"

  As he crawled backwards, trying to get away, Pantessa ran face first into what seemed to be... an invisible force field, and staggered back. Fruitlessly, she banged her fists against it, kicked at it, screamed and howled and cursed at it. "Fuck! Fucking fucking fuck!"

  She eventually stopped, sneering and gring.

  "You mean to tell me... hotel rooms fucking count?" she growled.

  "Hunh?" said Stelian, Caleb, and Joshua, all at the same time.

  Pantessa took a few more of those deep calming breaths that did nothing for her, then forced a smile. Though murder was clearly on dispy in her eyes.

  "Hello. Can I come in?" she sweetly asked Joseph.

  Caleb blinked. "Oh, I think I know what's going on here. Pants found her thing, didn't she?"

  Angelina nodded. "'Fraid so. Like your thing with the garlic, and my thing with the -- well, with my thing." Angelina left it there.

  "Also, it's Pantessa now," said Pantessa.

  "Wait." said Joshua. "You're Pants?"

  "Pantessa," corrected Pantessa, angrily.

  Caleb raised an eyebrow. The kid had a deadname?

  "Pantessa... I am so, so, fucking sorry for what I did to you. I can't imagine the fear and the pain I must have put you through. I know you'll never forgive me, nor should you, but... just know that I would have never done it if I had a choice. And I understand all the rage and the anger you must feel. It's entirely justified."

  "Okay. Apology accepted," said Pantessa. "Can I come in?"

  "Don't say yes yet," said Caleb. "Pantessa -- beautiful name, by the way -- are you going to just come in and murder Joshua if he lets you in?"

  "...No..." lied Pantessa.

  "Pantessa, we should at least hear him out," said Angelina. "Also, I can tell you're lying."

  "Right. Poker pyer," said Pantessa.

  "Also," said Stelian. "She and I could see that you had your fingers crossed behind your back when you said you weren't going to murder him just now."

  "That could have just been a coincidence," said Pantessa. "Also, Caleb, what the hell are you doing in just your underwear? Are you and my murderer fucking?"

  "No!"

  "It wouldn't surprise me if you were," said Angelina. "Honestly, it might be good for you to finally get over your repressed bisexuality."

  "I'm not gay!" said Caleb. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I'm not!"

  "Didn't say you were gay," said Angelina. "I said you were bi."

  "Even if I was bi, Joshua here is straight."

  "Actually, no, I'm very gay," said Joshua.

  "But all your victims were..." said Pantessa.

  "Women. Young women. Yeah, I know," said Joshua.

  "Wait? You didn't pick me out because I was a young, sexy woman in the prime of her life?"

  "I did. But that's because that's who the voices compelled me to pick out. Not because of some sort of psychosexual thing where I needed power over women. Purely supernatural compulsion."

  "Oh." Pantessa didn't quite know how to feel about that. "So you don't think I'm sexy?"

  "I think you're sexy," offered Stelian.

  "Thank you, Stelian," said Pantessa.

  Joshua sighed, thought for a moment, stood up and said: "I hereby invite all vampires who are not going to kill me to my hotel room, only for so long as they continue to not intend to kill me."

  "Good, that should settle it," said Angelina, stepping in.

  "I'll grab my pants," said Caleb, reaching into the bathroom to remove the drying denim. He could deal with a little damp if he needed to, but having this conversation in front of his two childer, his distant cousin, and his... glittery... semi-friendquaintance... was not something he wanted to do Walter White style. Besides, it was the desert. They'd dry out soon enough.

  Stelian stepped in next, and Pantessa... tried to.

  "Urrrfh," she said.

  "Pantessa?" asked Angelina.

  "Just... give me a moment," said Pantessa.

  "Take all the time you need," said Joshua. "It's not an easy thing to get over."

  "Not. Helping." glowered Pantessa. She started chanting to herself a little mantra she had come up with in the car ride here. "Be an immortal, sexy creature of the night, not an angry raccoon in a trench coat. Breathe in. Breathe out. Do not commit a murder." One st deep cleansing breath, and she took a step forward. She was through.

  She then immediately went over to Joshua and punched him in the face.

  "OW! FUCK!" said Joshua, nding on his ass.

  Pantessa shrugged. "Punching you isn't killing you. Honestly, I'm starting to feel better now." Pantessa even reached out a hand to help Joshua up. Joshua, hesitantly, took it, and with Pantessa's help, stood up.

  Finally gathered together, the four vampires and the serial killer swapped notes. About why Pantessa was a vampire instead of a corpse. About Caleb and Joshua's shared lineage to the Morris family and to Renfield. About Jack's mysterious 'grandson of the dragon' bible code. About Pantessa's first live-hunt. About Caleb's kidnapping and imprisonment and the suspicion that the Bat-Signal went both ways. Joshua even shared what he learned from reading 'Dracu', which was to say, nothing at all.

  Pantessa leaned back and thought about the puzzle before them. It helped to keep her mind off wanting to kill Joshua, who she had only partially begun to accept might not have been acting under his own power.

  "So, here's the thing. You two are reted, and you both had the same experience," said Pantessa.

  Caleb and Joshua nodded.

  "And you think your curse was passed down through your bloodline from Seth Randolph, nee Seth Renfield, your common ancestor."

  "That's true," said Caleb. "We're both direct descendants."

  "Does he have any others?" asked Pantessa.

  "Other what?"

  "Other direct decedents," said Pantessa. "Maybe they're cursed too."

  "I thought about that," said Caleb. "But no. Both Joseph and I are the end of our line. And neither one of us is having kids. I'm dead, he's gay."

  "Thank god for small favors," said Joseph.

  "Let me see," said Pantessa. "Maybe there's something you missed. An illegitimate child or something."

  Caleb gestured to the genealogy website on the computer. "Knock yourself out."

  Pantessa sat down at the keyboard and started typing, raising an eyebrow at the fact that one of the entries was for 'Calvin Trent.' "Caleb?" she asked, pointing. "I'm assuming that this is you?"

  "That was me, yes," he affirmed. "Don't spread it around too much, okay? That's not who I am anymore. And yes, Stelian, I know, I'm a hypocrite. After this is all over I'm going to take a good hard look at myself in the mirror and see if I can be a better person."

  "You've been under a lot of stress. Just don't let it happen again," said Stelian, "and we're good. Besides, you were my wingman a few nights ago. I appreciated that."

  Angelina tilted her head, figuring she'd have to get that story, ter.

  "Ahah," said Pantessa. "Well, there you go. There is a third living direct descendent of Seth Renfield that you overlooked."

  "Really? Who?" asked Joshua.

  "Michael Trent. Born 1952. Son of James Trent, father of one Calvin Trent. Used to live in Las Vegas, currently lives in Reno, Nevada with Louise Trent, nee Louise Benson."

  "Wait," said Caleb. "No, you can't seriously suggest..."

  "Your father is still alive?" asked Joshua.

  "We haven't talked in over twenty five years. The shock might kill him. And how do I expin where I've been all this time?"

  "Why not tell him the truth?" asked Pantessa.

  "There are a million reasons why that wouldn't work," said Caleb.

  "You could cim to be a method actor. Like I do with my mom," suggested Stelian.

  "A million reasons why that wouldn't work either."

  "I think you're just going to have to bite the bullet on this one, Caleb," said Angelina. "Your father might know something about your family curse, and if that means you have to tell him you're a vampire, you have to tell him you're a vampire."

  "You're serious," said Caleb. "You want me to come out to my parents. As a vampire."

  "Not both your parents. Just your dad. He's the direct descendant. Your mom married in," said Joshua.

  "To a cursed family bloodline, turns out," added Stelian, unhelpfully.

  ***

  Pantessa and Stelian eagerly volunteered -- Pantessa more eagerly than Stelian -- to babysit Joshua in case one of his murder urges hit, though the logistics of who was riding with whom back to his pce in Henderson so Joshua could pick up paperwork and changes of clothes was a bit difficult to work out. Eventually it was decided that Joshua and Stelian would ride in the murder van. There were just too many bad memories for Pantessa, who would follow along in Stelian's mom's car.

  As for Caleb, he'd stay behind in the hotel room, and call his parents. Angelina stayed behind, arguably because the only car left was the Buick LeSabre that she and Pantessa arrived in, and Caleb would need a ride back to his Camry, which, hopefully, was still at South Point... but in truth, she knew Caleb was about to do something incredibly difficult for him, and needed the moral support. Their retionship might have been strained, but Angelina was still Caleb's closest friend.

  He eventually found his father's home phone number -- he never had it unlisted. Reluctantly, he picked up the hotel phone, pressing 9 to dial an outside number, then froze.

  Angelina came over and took Caleb's hand.

  "Caleb," she said. "I'm here for you. I know it's hard. But you have to do this. It may very well save lives."

  "What's the point? How many lives do I need to save before I get back to even?" he rhetorically asked.

  "There is no even, Caleb. But you save every life you can."

  Caleb nodded, dialed the number for his father, and put it on speaker. .

  An elderly male voice answered the phone.

  "Hello?"

  Caleb almost didn't recognize it. But it was him. It was Dad.

  "Hello, uh, Mr. Trent? Mr. Michael Trent?"

  "Speaking. Who is this?"

  Caleb wished he had rehearsed it.

  "There's no easy way to say this, but... I'm a retive of yours."

  "Oh, I see," said Michael, sarcastically. "Probably a distant cousin or some such. How much money do you need for me to bust you out of prison in Sri Lanka? Or is this about my car's extended warranty?"

  "No, D-- Mr. Trent. You should sit down. You should sit down and try to remain calm. I have some news. It's upsetting. About your son."

  Caleb heard the sound of Michael Trent finally sitting down. "My son disappeared over twenty five years ago."

  "I know. Calvin Trent. In 1998."

  "Did they... did they find a body?" said the elder Trent.

  "Not exactly. Something happened in 1998 that caused your son, Calvin, to... decide to fake his death."

  "I'm... not surprised."

  "You're not?" said Caleb.

  "I heard about the killings in Las Vegas. Recently, I mean. I... hoped it wasn't him."

  Caleb and Angelina looked at each other, wide eyed."

  "Wait, you... what?"

  "Actually, I never got your name. I'm assuming this is the Las Vegas Police Department? Need me to come in for questioning?"

  "No... uh, Dad, it's me. It's... Calvin."

  A sharp intake of breath -- as if from shock -- and then a long pause. Finally, the elderly man spoke.

  "Calvin. I'm so, so sorry. I'll do anything I can to help. I'll get you the best wyers, I'll help you any way I can... money, a therapist who won't talk... I... Calvin, I am so sorry. I thought it was over. I really did. I thought it was over and that I could settle down and live a normal life with your mother and I did, Calvin, I did, but I didn't know... I didn't know it would happen to you."

  "Dad, you knew? You knew this whole time?"

  "I didn't know. I suspected. Because... Calvin, it... it's my fault. It's all my fault. Something in my genes did this to you."

  Realization dawned on Caleb.

  "Dad, are you telling me you were a serial killer?"

  "In the seventies, yes."

  "Okay... Dad, I'm not the serial killer. I mean, I'm not now. I... was in the 90s, you were right about that. Today, it's a guy named Joshua Randolph, and we're trying to help him not kill people. It turns out that he's a very, very distant retion of ours. And... dad, he... and I... and you... what happened. It wasn't our fault. We... we were all being controlled. Maniputed. Like a puppet."

  "No?" said the elder Trent, and even over the line, Caleb could hear him tearing up.

  "Yes, something... supernatural is happening."

  "Calvin, there's no such thing as the supernatural. No, it's... it's our fault, it's all our fault. We should go to the police."

  "We should. But you can't, can you?"

  A long pause on the other end of the line.

  "No. I can't. God help me, but I can't. I'm just too weak."

  "You're not weak, Dad. Look, our theory is that... what's happening to us -- to you, me, and Joshua -- is some sort of family curse. Passed down through the generations. We and Joshua have a common ancestor. Seth Randolph. Who used to be known as Seth Renfield."

  Another long pause.

  "My mom -- your grandmother, Iris -- she used to talk about that kind of stuff. She said that... she said a lot of things, but she... did mention a curse. Said that... her grandfather was a monster. I don't remember any of the details - she died before you were even born, Calvin."

  "You don't remember anything? Anything at all that could be helpful?"

  "I don't know, Calvin. She didn't talk about it much. It was mostly things she... babbled in her sleep. I heard about most of it second-hand. Calvin, what happened to you? After you... disappeared, your mother and I decided to move to Reno. Too many bad memories in Vegas."

  "Dad, I know for a fact something supernatural is happening. Because... look, I know firsthand the supernatural is real."

  "Calvin, I know. I wanted to believe it too, but... it's just us. If there's a family curse, it's in our genes. There's no boogieman under the bed, no monsters, no such thing as curses. It's just us. Our fault. I'll... I'll come down to Vegas. We'll turn ourselves in together."

  "Dad. Don't do that. You should know something. I think I know who is maniputing us. Whoever he is... he's... not human."

  "Caleb," said Angelina. "You should tell him."

  "Who's that? Is that a girlfriend of yours? And who's Caleb?"

  "That's Angelina, and she's my... she's my... "

  "I'm his 'it's complicated'," Angelina helpfully provided.

  "As for 'Caleb'? It's my name now. I changed it. From Calvin Trent to 'Caleb Tryst.'"

  "Oh."

  A pause.

  "Caleb Tryst?" asked the elder Trent, momentarily more disturbed by the fact that his son had picked such a horrible name than the fact that his son had come back from the dead after twenty five years. "That's... that's a hell of a name, I'll say."

  "Twenty five years, I've been using it. It's fine. Plus, I wanted to go with something... gothy."

  "It sounds like the name a magician would have. The kind that only does adult shows in Vegas."

  Angelina couldn't help but snicker.

  Caleb frowned.

  "Dad, I'm just going to come out and say it. I'm a vampire. Whoever turned us into serial killers, and whoever is turning Joseph Randolph into a serial killer, turned me into a vampire. Like a blood sucking, dies from sunlight, walking corpse vampire. I haven't aged a day since 1998."

  "It's true, Mr. Trent," said Angelina. "And he still wears the same denim jacket he was wearing when I met him in 2001."

  Another long pause.

  "Oh. Am I having a stroke?"

  "No, Dad."

  "Because I mean, at my age, it's not uncommon. And it would expin a lot, if I was just hallucinating this conversation."

  "Well, I wish you were, Dad. Well, no, I don't wish you were having a stroke. In fact, don't have a stroke. Please don't have a stroke, dad. God, I wouldn't forgive myself if coming out to you as a vampire is what gave you a stroke."

  "There's no such things as vampires, son."

  "Sorry, Mr. Trent," said Angelina. "But he's right. You're son's a vampire. So am I. He's my sire, actually. That's what I meant by 'it's complicated.'"

  "He's not lying?" asked Mr. Trent.

  "No, he's not," said Angelina.

  "Oh. Then... dear god, my son's a vampire? And has a girlfriend? That he turned into a vampire? Welcome to the family?" said Michael Trent, confused.

  "Thank you?" said Angelina, equally confused. "Though we... broke up. We're not a couple. Well, we were for a while, but..."

  "It was an accident, Dad, me turning her into a vampire."

  "An accident? How do you turn someone into a vampire by accident? Forget to put a condom on your fang?"

  Angelina ughed at that. Caleb was not nearly as amused.

  "Hold on. I think your mother just came back from her night out with the girls. Uh... what should I tell her?"

  "Honestly... Dad? I... don't know if Mom needs to know... all of this. At least for now, okay? Look, I promise I'll call you again. Soon. Might come in the middle of the night, sorry. But I'll... find a way for us to get back in contact. In the meantime, anything you can remember about... family curses, or anything to do with great-grandpa Seth Randolph... just, keep it somewhere safe for me, okay? And... I'm... gd you're alright. I'm gd you're..."

  "So am I, Calvin. Er. Caleb. So am I. I've got to go."

  "I love you, son."

  "I love you too, Dad."

  Caleb gently hung up the phone, shook his head, took a deep breath, and said. "Right. Well, at least... at least that's something we know now. Family curse. Okay. I can work with that."

  "Caleb?" asked Angelina, concerned.

  "C'mon. Night's... night's still young," Caleb said, voice cracking. "We... we should get going."

  He got up from the chair, rubbed his hands together, took three steps towards the door, determined and focused. Strong and powerful vampire, on the hunt for a mastermind behind generations of killings... the powerful and unholy Caleb Tryst, vampire, eldest of the vampires of Las Vegas.

  And after those three steps, Calvin, the little scared boy in way over his head, who missed his dad and his mom, colpsed to his knees, sobbing. And Ange took him over to the bed, and held him, and let him cry his eyes out.