I was in the police station, and at any minute a detective would walk in and start interrogating me. What am I going to tell him? How can I explain what happened? How can I explain why I killed my friend?!? How can I explain why she attacked those guys?!? How do I explain that she is a vampire?!? That I am a vampire?!? HOW?!?
There came a click of an opening lock. This is it. Payback time.
“I demand a lawyer!” I turned toward the door. “I will say nothing without…” I stopped mid-word.
A tall man walked into the room. He looked about thirty and not at all like a cop. I was so surprised by his appearance that I recognized this man only after a couple of long seconds.
“Uncle? Uncle Mike? What are you doing here?”
Uncle Mike came to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat opposite me.
“What happened, Sam?”
“How… I haven’t seen you in years! Are you… Are you a cop? What’s going on?”
“Sam!” Mike stopped me in a severe tone. “Now is not the time. Calm down and answer my questions.”
Pursing my lips, I nodded in agreement.
“What happened there, Sam?”
“I… I don’t know. I was walking down the street, saw a girl. I can’t remember after that. I can’t remember anything!” My voice was trembling, a touch of hysteria occasionally creeping into it.
I stopped for a second, realizing that these words made me the prime suspect, however, nothing else that would sound convincing was coming to mind. “But there was somebody else there! Definitely somebody else!”
“No, Sam, you don’t get it. Tell me what really happened,” Mike put his hand over mine and smiled, revealing a pair of long fangs.
I recoiled abruptly, the legs of the chair screeched loudly on the floor.
“I suppose you have these as well,” he said.
I nodded, still staring at my uncle goggle-eyed.
“I know all about what’s happening to you now, Sam, and I’m on your side. But I need to know what really happened this night.”
I nodded toward the camera under the ceiling.
“Don’t worry, it’s off. We don’t have much time, Sam, and I need to know what happened.”
I hesitated for a few more seconds, then moved my chair closer and, leaning toward my uncle, told him in my most subdued voice about Jack and how our friendship ended.
“More or less as I imagined,” Mike passed his hand across his chin thoughtfully. “Now get up, it’s time to go.”
He stood up and adjusted his jacket. I stared at him, motionless.
“Where?”
“What do you mean where? Home!”
“But how? They got me red-handed – all in blood and next to a dead body. We can’t just walk away!”
“Sam, there are other vampires in the world besides you and me. There are many of us and we help each other. You were lucky that the officer who found you was one of our kind. The boy you stood up for doesn’t remember anything. There weren’t any cameras or witnesses. For now, you’re on record as a runaway, not as a murder suspect. Come on, come on! Let’s move it, no reason to sit around this place.”
Mike took me by the hand and made me rise. We left the interrogation room, calmly walked through the entire police station premises, and were outside at the parking lot a minute later with no one taking much notice. Mike put me in his big black SUV and drove out on a highway.
“I got her. Yes, everything’s fine. Do you want to talk to her?” uncle Mike answered the call.
He put away his phone before finishing his last sentence. The caller hung up. For a moment Mike compressed his lips in indignation.
“Are you taking me home?” I asked.
“I don’t think your mother should see you in this state. She’ll die of a heart attack as soon as you step through the door. I’ll take you to my place. We have a lot to discuss.”
I stuck my hands deeper in my pockets and stared at the floor thoughtfully. I had always liked uncle Mike. He was seven years younger than my father, very modern and progressive. The two of them did not meet often. My father obviously disliked his brother, though he never let it show. Mike would appear in our family’s life once or twice a year for some holiday, showering me and Mary with gifts, telling our mother funny tales of his escapades, and exchanging just a few words with my dad – always in private. I didn’t know exactly what business uncle Mike was in, something with computers I guessed. And I had never been at Mike’s, although I knew that he lived somewhere in Breeksby.
Two long hours later the car stopped by a tall and quite fashionable-looking building. Uncle Mike’s apartment was on the twenty-seventh floor. He opened the door, letting me inside, and gestured to the first room on the left.
“That’s your bedroom now. In the wardrobe, there are some of my things. Not quite your size, but at least without blood stains. Take a shower, change and go to bed. Tomorrow I’ll tell you everything you want to know, but for now, you need to rest.”
I nodded and opened the door. Uncle went somewhere, but came back a couple of seconds later, carrying a bottle of maroon-colored liquid and a tin can.
“Drink this,” he handed me the bottle. “Drain it completely. It’s medicine. And rub the stuff from the can on all your bruises. Tomorrow you’ll be as good as new.”
I only nodded again. At that moment I didn’t feel like talking at all. Mike patted me on the back.
“It’s going to be all right, kid, it’s going to be all right!”
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