and then...

Taylor Hawkins' eyes were glazed & stupid, his smile giddy. Dave looked at the drugged cup in the other drummer's hand and rubbed his own hands together in anticipation, staring at his friend/employee with naked hunger & dark intent. "He doesn't feel a thing by now," thought Dave,"never needs to know. I'll get it to hims lowly, & he'll wake up feeling great. Fresh as a daisy."
"...and forever in thrall." Kirke was there, on the window-ledge, glaring at Dave. "oh Dave," he said, you really didn't think I'd let you do it to him, did you? You can't just go around making vampyres of everyone all by yourself."
"Ive seen all the movies," Dave replied, pouty, "I know how you do it. You've probably done this dozens of times."
Kirke hopped down, took the poisoned glass from Taylor's outstretched hand. "Sleep." he hissed, eyes glowing and immediatley, obediently, Taylor did just that. Kirke perused, sniffed the glass, touched tonguetip to liquid. "Hmm. Laudanum." he said, smacking his lips,"goody. More for me." He downed the remains, wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his grubby green cardigan.
"Stole it from you," Dave confessed, look, how come you can do this & I cant? Grant me a little freedom here."
Kirke marched up onto the coffetable & sat down, steepling his hands together before him, poised on one knee. He stared at Dave over them, hair hanging in his face. "You're right, of course," he said, "Made quite a few just like you." he lowered his head. "None of them survived to see the dawn." He looked up at Dave meaningfully.
"Well, no yeh, I knew that, because no vampire sees it..." Dave sputtered. He paused. Looked worried. He'd gotten it. Meaning none of them even made it thru their first NIGHT, Dave realized, & the thought sobered him. "Look, do you know why you have survived, Davey-boy?" Kirke's thoughts rang in Dave's head, he realized this by the fact that Kirke's lips had not moved during the exchange, "not because of me. I make a crap master vampyre, & I know this."
"you survive only because I do, because Cronus wills that it be so, that I have what I want & be happy. He doesn't like you. But I guess he respects or cares enough for my feelings & Kasi's on the subject. That I'm a lonely fucken creature & that in no little way I needed you."
"I only survive because thus far I've been clever. I back down & cowotow to every bigger bloodsucker who'd normally take down the smaller ones, & I stay with some powerful allies. When not, I hide. I've hidden a LOT. Keep myself hid good.
You're not IMMORTAL, Dave. Sunlight will burn you but good. Long enough exposure, & you're a cinder. Even a bit of it tends to leave you feeling mighty toasty. And in enough pain you'll remember to skip the tanning sessions in the future.
Fire'll take you to. Like any creature. You can't rise if you're only ashes.
Gunshot...well, my advice is to avoid it. I can tell you from bitter experience that losing your head is no picnic. Something high caliber to the ticker or brainpan'll take you down like any ordinary human being. Anyplace else? Well, maybe you'll heal. Maybe not.
"Given a sitch like that, I'd opt for the quick death."
"Let's see. Bludgeoning, evisceration, decapitation..." Kirke ticked off each experience on his fingers. Dave was beginning to not like this one bit. "well, I don't know these things'll kill you." Kirke smiled darkly, "but again, I'm not sure I'd wanna experience em & find out."

Taylor was groggily coming to. He shook his head & looked at Kirke. Kirke waved his hand at him, an almost "majik" gesture. Taylor's vision seemed to glaze. He looked thru Kirke, as tho he'd decided maybe he hadn't seen him after all. "Get out," Kirke hissed,"now!" Taylor picked up his things &left.
"Aaaw, Kurt!" Dave could not hide his disappointment. "you could've at least let me feed from him!" Kirke shook his head. "you're not to try this again," he said, "you start breaking the rules it's ME that's gotta answer for it." He got up to go.
"You? They'll just destroy."

Dave was bitter. His shallow plan to share his good fortune with his band lay in ruins. "'They'," he bitched, they who??? Who do we have to answer to? We're supposed to be able to do anything we want!" There was no one to answer this; Kirke had gone again. Off to do his moping thing again, no doubt, Dave thought, how could he NOT enjoy this?? Deprive himself of blood when it's so there for the taking. Fuck it, man. Dave shook his head. Kurt's weak.
Dave headed out to prowl the clubs. Since the change he'd almost thought of them as well-stocked larders- such an array of luscious anonymous donors. He'd learn to tone down his feedings tho. It was hard not to kill, especially when he felt no qualms about it. After all, he chose his victims for their despicable qualities, why would anyone get uptight about these? Doing the world a favor... he thought. It was hard especially to let go while their heart was still beating; that slow & imminent drag down to death sent such tingles thru him. What a buzz! But yes, ok, when you got right down to it, the disposal of so many bodies a night was a drag, a big hassle, especially since it took at least 3 or 4 to keep him warm & sated. Now, he drank all night, a sip here, a pull there, dozens of heady fragrant nectars to sample. And easy enough to make them forget, too; they wanted to, really. It seemed it was easier for people to allow him to make them fool themselves, easier to just glass over the weird experience than to allow one tiny vampire's bite to traumatize them!
Especially when one recognizes the vampire...
No few of Dave's victims that he allowed to walk after were Foo fans. They'd get up the balls to talk to him, be elated when he was cordial & glad to have them over. Have overthrilled giggle fits when he would begin to flirt with & kiss them.
Forget as quickly as they could that he had bitten them & drank of their blood.
If anyone had noticed the change in him, they'd not said anything, not publicly anyway; his marraige on the rocks & his band on sabbatical, it wasn't like anything he did was front page news right now.
And "Kirke", well, he stayed well out of the public eye. Where & how did he feed? Dave had never seen him bite anyone, & certainly he'd never seen him kill. He did tend to follow Dave tho sometimes, shadowing him everywhere. Dave'd think he was alone, then look up to find Kurt, crouching somewhere watching him. He was probably in this club right now. But staying well away, Dave thought. He'd ALMOST seen how fast Kirke could move when he'd been detected.
Dave had picked his first victim of the night, all but marked her & sectioned her off with velvet ropes. She had just gone out the back door of the club, & he followed her at a leisurely pace, scarcely daring to believe his luck. 25 paces to her car, Dave thought, she's not gonna make it.

That's when it hit him.
Of a sudden, Dave was struck, hard, a violent blow to the midesction. He groaned, doubled over, lost balance. Something was on him in a trice. He felt pinned, a weight squirming, heavier & more determined than Kurt. Dave was pressed, bellydown, to the curb. He turned his head, spitting dirt. "Get the fuck OFF ME." he roared, voice full of menace.
Something punched him then, hard, & he felt cold, & numb. Not a punch, his mind registered, a pierce.
Pain & panic hit both at once, & he tried to get up, to rise & buck this unwanted weight off his back, but the stake skewering him was also half buried in the ground below him by the force it had hit.
Dave screamed.
It's a stake, he thought crazily, I've been STAKED. Oh, shit! Game OVER.
But I don't wanna die! Not now.
Not when it was all going so well.
But Kirke had never mentioned stakes, & in spite of all the Tv shows Dave had seeen where a stake instantly vaporized a vampire, he wasn't feeling particularly fatally stricken.
It hurt like a sonuvabitch tho.
Summoning all the strength he had, Dave arched up like a cat, finally knocking the slayer off. He scrablled & flailed in a blind panic, trying to get the stake out of himsef.
Luckily this, Dave's first encounter with a vampire slayer, was not to be his last. This slayer was the fanatic type, & as Dave spun around, he saw him, nutty-eyed madman, reciting Biblical litanies at him now.
These seemed to have no effect, save to buy Dave the time he needed to finally grasp the stake & wrench it out. That hurt too, & altho there was a sort of sense of relief to know it was gone, Dave was well aware there was a huge gaping hole in his torso. He was bleeding profusely. This was serious.
All the tussle had brought some attention, unwanted attention. Taylor was there, a horrified, stricken look on his face. His boss was down, badly wounded, & there was the sick killer guy, raving a bunch of God crap. Taylor grabbed the slayer, spun him around, & punched him in the face, a real widowmaker of a blow. Taylor held to the guy's arm while he reeled &, pulling him close again, began to barrelhouse him in earnest. "You sick sick bastard!" Taylor raged, punching him with every syllable.
Clutching the injury in an attempt to hold it closed, Dave found he was able to stagger to his feet. He was hyperventilating, sucking in air thru clenched teeth like blood. I need a doctor, Dave thought frantically, then paused, realizing the complications his condition would cause in an ordinary medical facility. What had Kasi said? That it would be more relevant tot hem he had no pulse. or something. Shit. shit!
Taylor came to him now, attempting to hold him up. "Oh my God, Dave!" his eyes focused on Dave's blood-drenched hands, "he stabbed you. oh my God!"
Taylor looked around frantically, leaned Dave against a wall, & ran to the alley's edge, raised his voice to a shout.
"We need an ambulance! Somebody!!! Please! Help! call 911..."
"No," Dave groaned, "no doctor. Get me inside. Someplace quiet." Taylor was back, arms around Dave's shoulders, listenign with concern. Dave heard Taylor's pulse. Felt the heat of his friend's veins, & knew full well how shitty it would be to feed on him. But he also knew that blood was probably the only thing now that could help him recover.
He wanted some of it, ohh, all of it. His eyes were unfocused, & he was dizzied in his pain & Thirst, just not himself anymore. His hands were shaky as he touched Taylor back, clung to him for support. "Sorry." Dave sighed regretfully, & reared back to lunge, reaching for Taylor's throat.
At that moment tho, they were both distracted. More unwanted company.

The 2 rogue vamps were focused on the slayer, but it was clear they had eyes for Dave & his mortal companion. And the slayer was already punchdrunk; this would be a brief exchange. The vampyres each had one of the slayer's arms, were holding him between them in spite of his protestations.
"Hey, preacher, leave them kids alone."
"You look pale, preachy? Need help findin' the door?"
They escorted the slayer straight into a brick wall. With supernatural force. The guy just crumpled & broke, clearly dead on contact. He slowly slid down the wall like tomato sauce, a ruined thing.
Taylor was making nervous sounds beside him as Dave stared at the two. And Dave knew how injured he was as they closed the distance. He knew he must smell like easy prey. And Taylor! as far as they were concerned, he was already dead, his blood inside them, theirs by rights.
Instinctively, Dave pushed Taylor behind himself. "You don't get him," he growled, "til you've gone thru me."
The vampyres exchanged grins & glances.
"And that'll take us, what? Maybe five minutes?"
"Tops."
"You been stuck, newblood. You ain't exactly in prime condition."
"You bleeding, new boy."
One of the rogues stepped closer, & Dave was shocked to see he recognized him. This was the vamp that had mugged him, the one that owuld have had him had not Kasi intervened. This was how it had all started for him. This is how it'll all end, too, probably Dave thought grimly, & gulped. Well, I'll fight them off as long as I can. That may buy Taylor a minute or tow. He laughed, nervously.
Five, tops.
Dave could smell the rogue, an unclean sort, and saw the dangerous flash of fangs. "Maybe," the creature snarled, "it's time you bleed for ME."
Dave didn't give him the time to pounce, sought what little advantage he had. He closed first, lunging at his attacker. "RUN!!!" he roared at Taylor, but it was clear from the first Taylor'd never had that option. The other vamp caught him in a trice, lifting him off hsi feet as easily as if he were a child.
And then Dave's attacker was on him, & Dave could no longer think about his friend. The rogue's face was close to his, inches away, fangs snapping, slick with drool. "Tonight we finish what we started, heyy? Fledgling. Who turned you, eh? It's no matter. Babyvamps much much sweeter than people. I suck you bonedry anyway."
Dave's reply was wordless, an aggressive snarl, but his advantage was already gone. The rogue had him by the back of the neck, & Dave knew his spine could be snapped with just the slightest pressure. The rogue's other hand was IN him, a horrible feeling, reaching into the stake wound, sliding around in there rooting thru his organs. Dave groaned. This was hopeless. The rogue was reaching for his heart, & the pressure on his neck was already paralyzing him. Dave struggled til he went numb, then listened in horror to Taylor's continued struggles. The other vamp was toying wiht him, torturing him. Taylor was gurgling in pain.
And then help arrived.

Suddenly, the rogue vamp let Dave go, eyes bulging, reaching for his own neck. He spun around, & before he fell, Dave saw Kirke, riding the guy like a cowboy. Kirke's legs were locked around the vamp's torso, & he held in his hands two pieces of wood, connected by a guitar string. The string was wrapped taut around the rogue vamp's neck, cutting into him. It was a formidable weapon.
Dave took great satisfaction in seeing how fast the rogue went down. "Kurt." he whispered gratefully.
He didn't like what he saw next, tho. Kirke wasn't only furious, he was in full Frenzy. He went down on his already stricken foe, eyes blazing blue phospher with Thirst fever. His fangs & claws ripped chunks from the dead rogue, & Kirke's moves were a blur. He was like a piranha, rending flesh from bone with the velocity of a frieght train hurtling past.
Dave almost fainted, as much from revulsionas from his pain and shock. It was Kasi who came to his rescue, helped him up. She'd made quick work of the other rogue, bloodied him up good. With a tire iron & crowbar? It looked like? Dave turned away. Feeding was one thing, but he didn't like this kind of wetwork. Feeding was quick, & the blood went down your thraot, no muss no fuss. Safely. Neatly. This was turf war stuff. This was MURDER. This was scarey, Charlie Manson carve-an-x-in-your-head gestapo stuff.
"I warned them to stay outta my weed!" Kasi was so cute, perky, gore flecked but spunky. Like a Powerpuff Girl on mangle mode, Dave thought wildly, & giggled. He couldn't help but notice the way the blood on her slimed bellyshirt made her nipples stand out like that, and he shivered with weird arousal. A wet T-shirt was a wet T-shirt, after all.
She kicked Kirke, somehow brought him back to his senses. "Uncle Kirkie, you're barfin' me OUT!" She looked at Dave. "He never feeds. When he does, he gets wiggy, like this. Eeew. Yuck. Gross." Kirke had risen, hair hanging lank in his face, arms slicked with effluvia. He smiled, a sheepish, shit eating grin. "Sorry," he mumbled, then, looing around, "you saved the drummer, right?"
"Tcha!" Kasi rolled her eyes.
"Taylor!" Dave groaned. Taylor was across the alley, curled in a fetal postion, but clearly breathing normally.
"He's asleep," Kirke said gruffly, staring down at dave, hsi eyes still glowing faintly. It weirded Dave out, still, seeing Kurt's eyes like that. "he's banged up, & there's bloodloss, s'too be expected, but he'll live. You better get him on the first flight home.
And never do this again, doyou hear? There's too much drama in your unlife to be with him, Dave, you're DEAD, remember? You can't associate with people from you rpast."
Kirke paced, looked over at Taylor now. "He'll forget," he added, "we'll MAKE him do it, of course, but chances are he'd've blocked it anyway. But tomorrow night, Dave, you'd best make an announcement.
Kirke looked resolved. "Foo Fighters is OVER, Dave, you've GOT to tell them. You just can't juggle two lifestyles at once."
"Over there. I tell you, I heard them over there."
A woman's voice drifted down the alley, and Kasi tensed, battleready. Dave listened, horrorstricken, as the woman picked her way over the bodies, lifting the hem of her dress. He heard the zing of taffeta. Oh no, he thought, oh no.
"Put that down. put that down. OhmiGod, is that guy DEAD? Put the light over here. No, yuck, forget it. There..." the woman was pointing, making her way closer. "Hey!" she called, "any of you guys shout! Someone said 'call 911.'"
Kirke groaned, sank to his knees. Dave could smell the dread, a chemical reaction, just wafting off him in waves. "Noooooo...." Kirke wailed, in a quiet, plaintative voice.
Kasi stood, defensive, over Taylor, arms crossed, wondering what THIS was about. s'only some MORTAL lady, she thought, why are they freaking out? Let's just eat her.
The woman stepped out of the shadows. "My God!" she said, eyes wide, amazed at the tableau. Kirke collapsed, bonelessly, eyes sightless, out cold, aphasic.
Dave was left to face her.
"Uh, Hi!" his voice cracked adolescently under the forced cheerfulness., "this is...unexpected..."
"I'll say!"

It was Courtney Love.

next : go on?