With Nellie’s intense focus not on Brennan, he finally turned to the folder she had given him, which was near bursting with little pamphlets that could have been cutting-edge designs in the ’90s, with the WordArt and Comic Sans. There had to be hundreds of them, and dozens of others folded up like zines. They must have been added over time, because each one seemed to reference another ten or more pamphlets, forming an endless chain of leafing through papers. Heaven help him, he was gonna make an organization and filing system the second he got home.
So You’re a Vampire; Now What?
The Modern Vampire’s Guide to Drinking Blood Safely and Politely
What Your Clan and Clan Leaders Can Do for You (and What You Can Do for Your Clan!)
And on and on into specifics that Brennan had yet to even consider in all the pages of questions in his journal. His head throbbed faintly. Did Advil work on vampires? Or was he thirsty, yet again? It was exhausting trying to keep up.
On his phone, the Facebook group had post after post about vampirism written by, allegedly, vampires. The number on the screen taunted him. There were thirty-two people in the New England vampires group. So many, but also, so few. It gave Brennan the strange warm feeling in his stomach he’d gotten when he first learned about bisexuality, then depression, and then anxiety. The deep comfort and the deep-seated dread of not being alone in the world.
There were a few frequent posters in the group, including Sunny and Nellie and a few others spread out in Maine and Vermont. One post mentioned a blood drive and blood collection, another advertised that some old, powerful vampire was doing a meetup. Nellie and Sunnyposted a lot about when they’d be in different cities—Providence, Portland, Boston, and beyond in an endless rotation.
“—and that’s why it’s so important to have trust and transparency within the vampire community,” Nellie said, finally stopping for air. “Did you get a chance to look at the pamphlet ‘Finding Your Clan’? It’s about the types of clans, the different laws and cultures, and how to transfer if you want a different lifestyle.” She waited expectantly but was met with blank faces. Brennan, of course, hadn’t read it, and Dom was picking at a hangnail, barely paying attention.
Nellie’s mouth twitched into a frown, and Sunny didn’t even look up from her phone to put a manicured, placating hand on her shoulder for a second before grabbing her coffee again.
“So, just for housekeeping purposes,” Nellie said, “the New England clan is anurbanclan. We stay under the radar, and we don’t attack humans, ever, at all, period.”
Brennan nodded, because, yeah, definitely, he was on board with not murdering people. But then—
“Um, sorry,” Dom interrupted Nellie’s latest ramble and Brennan’s racing thoughts. “So that’s it? You guys keep it secret, drink donated blood, and act like everything’s normal?”
“Well, I wouldn’t saythat’s it,” Nellie said. “We also provide community and resources—”
“I’m supposed to keep quiet and act like my entire world didn’t explode? Like I couldn’t kill someone with my bare teeth if I wanted to?”
Brennan flinched.
“Come on,” Dom continued, “tell me about the dark powers, the freaky shit!”
“Well,” Nellie started, neatening the papers in her binder, “there are other clans you could transfer to if we aren’t able to meet your needs.”
“Meaning that there are clans thatdokill people?” Brennan said. He shuffled through the folder of pamphlets, trying to find the one Nellie had mentioned.
Nellie and Sunny exchanged looks.
“You can read up on it later,” Nellie said, gentle but firm.
Sunny finally put down her phone and leaned forward to look closer at Brennan. She was intimidatingly beautiful, with perfectly understatedmakeup. Her eyes flashed a warning. Brennan was reminded again that these were vampires, capable of things he didn’t understand yet, and he swallowed hard.
“Obviously it seems strange from a human perspective,” Sunny said, far less gently than Nellie. “It’s an option, for some vampires.”
“But not in the city!” Nellie interjected. “The pamphlets have a map of borders and clan laws by area, but the point is, we don’t kill here, and we all have to protect each other by following that.”
He finally found the “Finding Your Clan” pamphlet. It unfolded thrice as much as he expected, like a tourist’s map. There was a complex map, first of the US and then of New England, all sorts of color-coded borders labeling different jurisdictions. But what Brennan wanted was below it, a description of vampire clans.
A quick scan gave this information:
Urban—live among humans… sustenance from clan-run blood drives… maintain secrecy
Nomads—travel from city to city… hunt bits at a time in unclaimed cities and rural areas… rules to avoid overhunting and threats to secrecy
Colonies—traditional… established fortresses of vampires and thralls… captive human farms and thralls provide sustenance
Brennan’s stomach turned, and he slammed the pamphlet closed as if that would make the information go away. His head was spinning in that unpleasant, too-many-thoughts, loud-brain way. His therapist would say—his therapist would tell him to—
“If you… did something,” Nellie said, slow and careful, and Brennan couldn’t look away from the orange paper of the pamphlet, “when you first turned, it’s okay. If you’re honest about it now, we can handle it.”
