Chapter 5: Feeder

After he and Whitney parted, their plates clean and cups empty, pressured by the waitstaff who resorted to passive-aggressive looks from across the room to get them to leave, Luke got a call from an unknown number.

"Hello?" he asked, halfway up the stairs to his apartment.

"Can you come in again tonight, or do you need the day off?" Miss R asked, her tone brusque.

The response took Luke aback so much that he didn't even consider lying to her. "I can come in tonight," he said.

"Great, see you at eight." She hung up without a goodbye.

Right at eight o'clock, Luke walked through Eventide's doorway and met eyes with Miss R, who ushered him to help behind the bar.

Luke felt like he was a little more useful that evening, able to make simple drinks and pour beer from the tap without messing anything up—or at least messing it up badly enough that anyone complained about it. Still, as the night progressed, he found himself scanning over the patrons at the bar, looking for either a face with a scar above the eyebrow or a buzzed head and hazel eyes.

Partway through the night, Luke went to the restroom.

A person sat on the toilet, slumped against the wall.

Luke nearly jumped out of his skin. He checked the doorknob again, and it was unlocked. The person's pants were up around their waist, so they weren't using the restroom, and they didn't even seem to notice that Luke was in there.

"Are—Are you all right?" Luke asked, approaching with caution.

Their head lolled towards him, and he saw two holes on the side of their neck, the area crusty with dried blood. Once he saw one bite, Luke saw the remnants of so many more scabs and scars and marks of a Feeder.

His mind rushed with every service he'd ever been to that demonized Feeders. Herald Thomas spat into the microphone with passion as he called them "disturbed, threatening" individuals who existed to corrupt the members of The Faith.

Looking at the person now, their body slumped as if their bones were made of rubber, skin pale and yellowed like parchment, Luke didn't see an evil person with sinister intentions. He saw a pitiful person in the throes of addiction, so sedated from venom that they couldn't speak.

"I'm just going to check your pulse, okay? I just want to make sure you're all right." Luke took a step closer and reached out his hand, braced for them to jerk away at any moment. He pressed his fingers against their bony wrist and focused his eyes on a blank spot on the wall.

He let out a sigh of relief when he felt a heartbeat. "Can you hear me?"

Their mostly-lidded eyes fluttered and their head moved sluggishly in a nod.

"Do you need help? Is there anyone I can call?" he asked, worry growing stronger every moment he stood in the room with someone so out of it.

"I'm fine," came their slurred voice, their jaw slack, lips barely moving around the words. "Just gimme a minute."

Luke hesitated to leave them alone in such a state, but he nodded and backed out of the restroom. He made a beeline for Miss R and breathlessly told her, "There's someone in the bathroom, and I think they just got bit by a vampire."

She tutted, looking towards the bathroom door. "In the bathroom again?"

Her blasé attitude took Luke aback. "Yeah, is there anything we can do to help them?"

"They'll be fine. Give them like ten minutes and they'll be back on their feet," she said, and her tone wasn't at all reassuring.

"Are—" Luke's brows furrowed and he looked back in the direction of the restroom. "Are you sure?"

"Honey, we get three or four Feeders passed out in the bathroom every night," Miss R said, meeting his eye and giving half a scoff. "You need to thicken up that skin of yours a little bit."

Irritation flooded Luke's mind at her patronizing words. His jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists at his sides. He didn't say anything else, but he told himself that he'd go check on the person again in ten minutes.

Before ten full minutes passed, Luke watched the bathroom door open and the Feeder walk out, stumbling like they were just a little tipsy, but not immobilized.

Luke gaped as he watched the person shuffle out of the bar and onto the sidewalk like nothing had happened, like they'd just had a bit much to drink and needed to rest for a second.

"Did they leave?" Miss R asked.

"Yeah," Luke said.

"That turnaround was fast; he must have a high tolerance," she pondered, looking at the door.

Luke couldn't believe it. Being in a bar with a bunch of strangers drinking alcohol was enough culture shock on its own, let alone encountering Feeders like it was just a normal part of business operation. He took a deep breath.

Miss R clapped her hand on his shoulder. "Go sit down for a minute," she said, words curt, but eyes sympathetic. "It's a lot to see the first time."

He shook his head. "I'm fine."

She looked at him in a way that communicated that she saw right through him, but still, she nodded. "Be stubborn about it if you want. The offer's on the table if you need it."

"Thanks," he mumbled.

Three o'clock rolled around again, and he wasn't as brutally tired as the previous night. He wiped the bar down, washed his hands, and turned to say goodnight to Miss R at the register.

"This is yours," she said, holding out a wad of cash.

His eyes tripled in size.

"Who do you think I am, some scam artist?" she asked, eyes bright with amusement. "You work for me, you get paid, end of story."

He took the money, waiting for her to slap him on the hand with it and tell him it was just a joke—to get real—but she never did. "Thank you," he said, trying to hide the surprise that choked in his throat when he saw just how much money she gave him.

"See you tomorrow, same time," she said, waving him off.

He stuffed the money deep into his pocket to keep it safe, and headed out into the cold night.

The idea of having money that The Faith knew nothing about was exhilarating; it was money he could use, could save, and didn't have to have controlled by the Doyens who pocketed as much as they felt they deserved.

Luke walked down the street, his mind filled with ideas of where in his room he could hide the money. So absorbed in his thoughts, he stopped at a crosswalk and nearly missed the hoodie and buzzed head standing beside him.