Then one of the vampires killed a child not long after they tried to live “peacefully” with humans, and they disappeared again. By now most people have chalked the whole thing up to a hoax.

I kept looking though. It became a ritual almost. I had to check the night before being able to sleep. Eventually, I replaced the pencils with real stakes I carved, but the only time I used one was to threaten some guy trying to follow me when I was fifteen. He wasn’t a vampire, just a creep, but it turns out that stakes scare those, too.

The ten-year anniversary of vampires happened a couple of weeks ago, so every television station is still playing an endless stream of documentaries and movies. I came home the other day and found Parker and Jacob watching The Lost Boys. Laughing. Like creatures that killed people to survive could ever be funny. I wanted to run into the room, grab the remote, and throw it into the screen. But I didn’t. I’ve never told Parker how Mom really died. So I let them keep watching it while I went to the bathroom and threw up, imagining that evil fanged face being the last thing Mom ever saw. She must have been scared.

This time of year makes me edgy. It makes me want to be a vampire hunter for real. I’m strong enough—that was one thing I did have control over. I started running and lifting weights at fourteen. I figured it would take a lot of endurance to catch a vampire and a lot of upper-body strength to drive a stake into its heart.

I know there are people actually trying to track them down again. If I didn’t have Parker to take care of, I could travel—we still live in the same town Mom was murdered in, but surely I’d have found something by now if vampires were still here. I need to widen my search to bigger cities where there are rumors of sightings on vampire message boards. Sacramento hasn’t had any spottings in years, so for now I walk the streets out of habit and sometimes imagine what I’d do if I found one.

I reach back and touch the bottom of my backpack, feeling the shape of the stake there.

I take a deep breath and try to relax into my routine. I’m distracted tonight. I force myself to focus on the familiar.

Each side of the street boasts several neon signs with burned-out lights. I pass Cooper’s on the right, the C burned out months ago. Nobody cares. Certainly not the few patrons inside already teetering on their stools. I tuck my head down and keep moving.