Good & Dead #1 by Jamie Wahl Read Free Book Online Page B

rough.”
    Michael didn’t say anything.  The hand on his shoulder was bitingly cold, even through his shirt.
    “You good?” Tanish asked, his white teeth practically glowing in the half-light.
    “Yeah,” Michael said, “I’m good.  How long did you say it’ll be like this?”
    “At least another day.”
    Michael’s go-to mental picture of a vampire was a grossly pale old man with dirty fingernails and a satin cape. That, or a sparkly teenager with a vacant expression.  Tanish was neither.  He was kind of short, a foot shorter than Michael, and he dressed like an upper middle-class citizen.  He wore a blue button-down shirt and a suede jacket.  No creepy jewelry.  No tattoos.  Just khakis and a warm smile.
    “So,” Tanish said, “I’m going to take you to meet the clan tonight.”
    “Okay,” Michael stared at the floor. “Now?”
    “Is that what you’re wearing?” he asked hesitantly, gesturing to Michael’s “Flaming Lips” tee and ragged jeans.
    “Um…no?”
    Michael cringed.  His two least favorite things: underworld creatures and inscrutable social code.  He never thought they would be married into one awful situation.
    “No.  You’re not just a student anymore,” he said, perusing Michael’s makeshift closet.  “Have some pride.”
    He handed Michael the only button down shirt he owned.  His mother had given it to him for his birthday in August.  She said it complemented his skin tone.  It was carnation pink.
    “Oh,” Michael blushed, “that was a gift.  I wasn’t going to wear it, um, ever.”
    Tanish’s smile faded slightly.  “Where do you think we are going, Michael?  McDonald’s?”
    “Alright,” Michael accepted the shirt.  “I’ll get changed.”
    Michael stopped by the dresser to retrieve a pair of dress slacks.  They were the only ones in the dresser because they, too, were unworn.  He trudged to the bathroom.  His hands shook as he did up the buttons, and he almost walked out before putting on his pants.  Tanish was waiting on the balcony when he finally emerged.
    “So much better,” Tanish said, the bright smile returning.  “Now, let’s go.”
    Tanish climbed the rail of the third story balcony and stepped off the edge.
    “What the—” Michael exclaimed, rushing to look over the side.  Tanish was standing on the ground three stories below, as if he had stepped off a curb. 
    Michael gripped the rails tightly.  His head was still swimming, and he was acutely aware of the surfaces that his skin came into contact with.  He could feel the slight variations in the thickness of the metal as his hand slid down the rail, each flake of rust around the screw holes a glaringly obvious defect.  He took the steps carefully, unused to his heightened senses.
    By the time he reached the ground, Tanish was noticeably impatient.
    “Come on, Michael.  While the night is young, please,” he said, “You’ll get used to everything sooner than you think.”
    “How long did it take you?” Michael asked, wondering how many years the young man next to him had been living.
    “A while,” he said, “It gets much better after the first kill.”
    Michael pressed a hand against his stomach to quell the rising tide of yuck.
    Tanish gestured down the alley, and they started walking.  It was clear from the steady pace that they were not going to get a cab.
    Michael felt disconnected from reality.  His senses were sharp, as if he expected an attack, but it was just the two of them, walking without speaking.  He was unwillingly aware of every movement on the street.  Every car horn and rude city sound, which usually seemed to him as one collective noise, was crystalline and singular, making him aware of everything happening in every direction.  It was very similar to his first night in the city, except instead of all the stimuli bringing excitement and possibility, they brought only dread.  Michael covered his ears.
    “We need to keep moving,” Tanish