John

I take a step forward, but Freya bars my way with her outstretched arm, like a mom slamming on the brakes.

"John, wait. That's not Carlos up there."

"No shit." I push her arm aside and mount the wooden steps to the stage, where the thing possessing Carlos waits, still holding Rafael's head by the curls.

He wears a once white T-shirt, now tie-dyed with dark blood, and black denims with a belt. The simple ensemble shows off his trim figure, and his silky brown hair hangs loose. I address him with raised hands, hoping to show that I mean no harm.

"What are you? Where is Carlos?"

The demon smiles, head tilted to the side. "I am a nightmare," it says in its familiar-yet-strange voice, and laughs. "But not yours. As for the Carlos, he is here. He will help."

"Help with what? What do you want?"

The demon appears to consider. It speaks slowly, carefully forming each sound. "Freedom. Your language is strange and limited, but you have a word for this. It is good."

At my side, Becky hugs herself and shivers, eyes wide as she stares at Carlos and the bloody mess at his feet. She leans closer and speaks in a whisper.

"John? What the fuck is going on? What's wrong with him?"

Keeping my eyes on Carlos, I wince. Whether she buys it or not, I don't know what to say except the truth. "He's possessed. By a demon of some kind."

"A demon? Are you kidding me?"

"Does it look like I'm kidding you? Does he look like the kind of guy who could tear a man's head off with his bare hands? He's five-foot-eight and a-hundred-thirty pounds soaking wet."

"Five-foot-nine."

I shouldn't be surprised that the demon heard me in a place designed to carry sound, but it does, and it takes me a moment to find my voice again. "What?"

Carlos' warm brown eyes glint with strange, cold light as the demon stares through them. "The Carlos wishes for you to know that this body stands at five feet and nine inches tall. I do not know why this is important, but he wishes it known."

"Carlos... is here?"

The demon nods once. "He is here. He will help me, and you will help him, and I will help you both."

"Help us... with what?"

"Surviving the change."

"The... change?"

My blood goes cold as I understand his meaning, and I swear under my breath.

"This body is not designed to hold a being like myself. Already, it fails, and with its death, I will be free; a willing sacrifice is the surest exorcism."

"No." I take a step closer, the dusty boards of the stage creaking beneath my feet, hands still raised, though the gesture is one of pleading now. "Don't hurt him. Please, just let him go."

The demon stares, unblinking. "It is already done. The rest is yours to do, and you must do it soon."

Fear grips me, and I shake my head. "I can't. I'd have to... I'd have to turn, and there's no guarantee—"

"I am your guarantee," the demon says, interrupting me. "My power permeates this body. Even as it dies, some of that power will pass into you. And once I am gone, some will remain. If your will is strong, you may wield it."

"John? What the hell is he talking about?"

Becky has followed me, sticking close, while Freya hangs back a pace, gun in a low ready position, prepared to fire if needed. The dogs have followed as well, and picked up on more than the rest of us can see. Ignoring demon-Carlos, they've both fixated on an apparently empty area of the stage, tails wagging and ears lowered, as if greeting someone they know and love.

"Is he there?" I ask, directing this question at the demon.

He nods. "Yes. He, and the one called Kyle."

A chill goes up my spine. I stare at the empty air, but if the man I love is staring back at me, I can't see him.

I speak anyway, hoping he can see and understand from his side. "Carlos... you know what he's asking, don't you? Is this what you want?"

Morty barks once, ears perked forward. It's the chirpy bark she only does when told to 'speak.'

Struck by an idea, I point at Rick, who stands at attention, as if waiting for the next command. "Alright, 'down' is no, 'speak' is yes. Are you absolutely sure about this? Because there's no going back."

Rick promptly barks twice.

I take a deep breath. Looks like we can add 'communicating with ghosts' to the many useful skills of the canine officer, but it's not one I want to employ often. It's certainly not my method of choice for speaking to Carlos. I'd much rather do that to his living, breathing face, which something else now wears like a mask.

"John!" Becky grips my arm, impatient with a conversation she doesn't understand. "What is he talking about?"

I shake her off. "Becks, I need you to go with Freya. Go, and wait for me outside. I don't have time to explain right now." Meeting Freya's eyes, I nod towards the side door. "Take care of Becky, and hold off anyone else who comes as long as you can. The other team will have figured out their lead is a dead end by now and are likely on their way. Do whatever it takes."

She nods and takes Becky by the hand, attempting to lead her away, but Becky isn't having it.

"John, I am not leaving you with that... that thing!"

"Becky, please go. I don't want you to see this."

She blinks dark eyes at me. "See what? There's a headless corpse on the floor! What could be worse that I haven't seen already?"

I turn and take hold of her shoulders. "Me, Becks. You haven't seen me."

She shakes her head. "John, I—"

"Rebecca. Don't make me beg."

I can count the number of times I've used her full name on one hand: the day I proposed, the day we got married, and the day we agreed on a divorce. I was deadly serious each of those three times, and I hope that using it again will convince her of how deadly serious I am now. Unfortunately, the stubborn set of her jaw tells me she's digging in for the fight instead.

Sirens wail in the distance; Freya hisses an expletive and takes over, shouldering her way between us and taking Becky in hand.

"Look, y'all—we don't got no time for this. Becks, I like you. I got a feeling you can handle the truth. So here it is." She points at Carlos. "Our boy is possessed by a demon, and your man here's a vampire, more or less. The demon will be exorcized with the host body's death, and to keep 'death' from sticking too hard, your man's gonna bite his man and vampify him, too. Only catch is, John's got to go full vamp to do it, and the worry is he might lose his mind and turn into a rabid killing machine. Captain Howdy, here, says he can keep that from happening—leastways, if I followed right."

Becky blinks and shakes her head. "You expect me to believe that? A demon I can sort of accept, but vampires? John..."

Reluctantly, I let my eyes adjust fully to the semi-darkness, so they shine like an animal's at night. Becky gasps.

"Sink or swim, now, honey," Freya says, taking her by the arm. "Come on. Let's go. The others are almost here, and we need a better cover story than vamps and demons."

With one last half-fearful glance at me, Becky finally allows Freya to lead her from the theater and out into the cool, clean night air.

Alone, and yet not alone, I give my full attention to the demon once more. He watches me through Carlos's expressive dark eyes and lets the severed head fall from his grasp to hit the stage with a dull thunk.

"Are you ready now?"

I nod and approach him, my heart beating hard and fast as a wardrum in my chest.

He steps forward and we meet in the center of the seal.

This close, the scent of his blood hits me hard. I shouldn't be able to distinguish it from Rafael's, but I can. There's less of it, but still plenty, and most of the blood soaking his shirt is his own. It trickles from the bullet wound below his left collarbone in a steady stream, and by his deathly pallor, I can tell he can't afford to lose much more. If he wasn't possessed, he'd probably be unconscious by now.

Carlos' voice, but not Carlos speaks, his familiar eyes shining with that unfamiliar light. "Once you begin, you must not stop," he says, and tilts his head to the side, exposing the bare skin of his throat. "Do not hesitate."

I take him in my arms. His body fits perfectly against mine, and despite the incongruous circumstances, my arousal stirs. Still, there's something missing. As attractive as it is, his body isn't what I'm in love with, and it's nothing without his soul.

"Carlos..." My breath catches. We're out of time, and I don't know if I'm about to make him mine forever, or lose him forever, and if he can forgive me either way. Pulling him close, I kiss the side of his throat. "I love you," I say, and then I bite down hard, sinking my short, half-formed fangs into his flesh.

He cries out; blood floods my mouth; pure bliss burns like fire in my veins. I feel the change take hold, the catalyst igniting, again like fire—a smoldering spark that bursts into flame, burning away what's left of my humanity. It hurts like fire, too, but the pain is indistinguishable from pleasure as every cell in my body dies and is reborn.

A ravenous hunger awakens like a monstrous beast stirred from slumber. My fangs lengthen, pierce deeper, draw a faster flow of blood. I sink to my knees as Carlos convulses, his hands catching at my shirt. His heart beats fast and weak as I drain him, the flutters of a dying bird. We're both past the point of no return, and there's no stopping now.

With a final gasp and shiver, the body in my arms goes still.

Praying I'm not too late, I lay him down, slice my wrist on a long, sharp fang, and support his head as I hold the wound to his mouth, forcing blood down his throat, just as David had done to me, long ago.

When I think he's had enough, I sit back, wiping blood from his lips with my sleeve and watching for signs of life with bated breath. The cut on my wrist is already half healed, and the fire in my veins still blazes hot, but the demon hadn't lied, and my mind remains my own.

As for the other half of the promise...

"Carlos?" I shake him gently as fear takes hold. He remains utterly still, his light brown skin turned ashen and pale. "Come on, damn it. Wake up."

Leaning over, I set my ear to his chest, but if he has a heartbeat, it's too faint for even a vampire to hear.

I pull him into my lap and cradle him against my chest as a sob chokes off my breath. "Come on, you bastard. You promised. You promised!"

I yell these last words to the air, but somehow I can tell the demon is long gone.

And no amount of shouting will wake the dead.

"Carlos... God, no..."

"I'm here."

Still in the grip of fear, I pull back to look at him and gasp with relief. There's warmth in his expression, haggard though it is, and life in his dark eyes.

"Yo también te amo,"¹ he whispers, not with a demon's voice, but with his own, and smiles.

I laugh with a joy that hurts, and then, as other voices echo through the hall, I scoop him up in my arms and flee like the creature of darkness I have become.

***

¹Yo también te amo = I love you, too ("te quiero" can also mean "I love you," but "te amo" is usually more formal and a more serious/deeper meaning, so I think Carlos would say "te amo" here 🤔). [Also thank you @EliLoso and @Rasco_29 for the corrections! ♥]