Morgan's Story

We were going to call it quits for a few months, take a break from the clubs and each other. I was helping pack away the mikes when I felt like someone was watching me. I looked up, and there he was. I'd noticed him in the audience the past several nights. Nice looking, very nice looking. "This could be interesting," I thought to myself. "Are you looking for someone?" I asked.
"You," he replied. "If you're not busy..."
I looked back at the others. They had all stopped what they were doing. They were all grinning. I sorta had a certain reputation. "Go on ahead," Ross had said. "We'll take care of the rest."
Brad had put his hand on my shoulder and said,"Be good, and if you can't be good, be careful. I mean it."
I took another look at the guy. "I can take care of myself," I replied.
"I know you can, but there's a lot of weirdos out there," he continued under his breath,"and you're starting to push your luck."
"You worry too much. See you guys later! Much later." The advantages of being a vocalist... no equipment to worry about getting home.
He didn't say anything more until we got outside. "You live nearby?" he asked.
I glanced at my watch. 'Right about time,' I said to myself. "Not too far from here. You can follow me if you drove. Otherwise," I said unlocking the car door,"I'll drive."
He rode with me. I lived in a basement apartment. "Makes it easier to sleep during the day," I explained as I opened the door and turned on the light. "Make yourself at home." I dropped my purse on an end table and wandered into the kitchen. "Care for a drink?" I asked.
"No, thanks. Interesting collection of books you have here. Are you a student of the occult?"
"I suppose you could say that,"I answered, pouring myself some orange juice. My blood sugar tended to get a little screwy after a show. "Knowledge is power, or so they tell me."
When I came back to the living room, he was looking through my papers that I'd forgotten I'd left out. "These are quite good. You didn't play any of these tonight, though."
"Too new. We haven't practiced any of them. Some the others haven't even seen. In fact, not all of it has music to it yet."
"A great deal of ... potential." He said something under his breath that I couldn't catch, but I thought I heard 'worthy' and 'chosen'.
This set off some warning bells in my head. I probably should have listened to Brad. "You're not with Anton's church, are you?"
He threw his head back and laughed. "No, Anton's a fool, an idiot. He knows nothing. But how much do you know? What do you know about vampires, for example?"
Not exactly a normal topic for discussion under the circumstances, but I was comfortable with it and in no hurry. I finished my juice and sat down next to him. "Fictional, folklore, or the more nebulous stuff? Stoker obviously knew little about his subject. Le Fanu is considerably better but less read. The more nebulous sort is studied by Stephen Kaplan, who is fond of exploding all the myths that people have about them. Anything more specific?"
"No, that's fine." He stroked my face softly, then leaned over and kissed me. 'This is more like it,' I thought to myself as I returned the kiss. He moved from my lips to my neck.
The bite took me totally by surprise. I struggled at first, not realizing the futility. I soon stopped. I began to feel nauseous and very sleepy. He shook me. "You have to stay with me. Force yourself to stay awake and aware." With difficulty, I forced myself to stay conscious. My will was nearly gone when he bit his own wrist and pressed it to my mouth. I knew what was required of me. Thus began my un-life.