Elliot cracked open his eyes, looking up at the building that towered over him. He sat up, wished he hadn’t and then promptly vomited. He grimaced and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He picked himself up with a groan and hobbled out of the compound, wondering how he’d managed to rip his shirt open.

            Still drunk, the alcohol having long since moved from his stomach into his bloodstream, he wandered dizzily through the city, trying to reach his apartment. Passing through a seedier part of town, he became aware of some kind of scuffle going on nearby. Elliot turned to see what was happening. He wrinkled his nose, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Two men were struggling with one another, one taking the upper hand and pinning the weaker to the wall so that only his feet were still flailing.

            ‘Hey!’ he called out, and both men looked towards him.

            The fog swelled up around his feet and the man against the wall faded into the ethereal. A line shot out from under Elliot’s feet and connected with the attacker. He seemed to blanche and cower away from him. He dropped his victim, turned and ran into the lessening night.

            The shadowy man picked himself and still shaking, ran to Elliot. He could hear him, as if through a thick sheet of glass, thanking him profusely for saving him. Elliot tried to look at him directly and the fog faded away. He doubled over and emptied the remaining contents of his stomach on the man’s feet, until he started dry heaving.

            Unsurprisingly, the stranger became significantly less receptive to his rescuer. He quickly broke company and Elliot continued his journey.

            When Justin arrived at their home, Byron had long ago left to see Cassandra. He came in, his skin darkening and starting to blister in the dawn light. He took a moment once the door was safely closed behind him, to breathe easy and let his skin heal.

            ‘Cassandra wants us to bring him in.’

            Justin stepped forward. ‘To her?’

            ‘Not yet. Just to our family for now.’

            ‘So we pick him up tomorrow night,’ Shelly suggested. ‘We’ll tell him what he is if he hasn’t figured it out already.’

            Alyssa looked at Byron. ‘Cassandra doesn’t even know what he is, does she? How can he have any idea?’

            Byron shrugged his shoulders. ‘That’s why she wants him kept close and watched.’

            A young woman with her arms tightly crossed over her chest, leaning in the corner, voiced their collective thoughts. ‘So what are we meant to do? Break in and abduct him? He’s not just going to follow a bunch of strangers in the middle of the night.’

            Byron rounded on Alyssa and Justin who stood together as usual.

            Justin put up his hands. ‘Hey, don’t look at us. Just because he recognized us in a club doesn’t mean he’s going to trust or follow us.’

            ‘That’s where Shelly comes in.’

            Shelly looked as surprised as the rest of them. ‘What? I can’t—I mean, I can’t connect to him if he’s not…’

            Byron shook his head. ‘He has the ability to connect to the net. They saw that clearly tonight,’ he said, meaning the twins. ‘It’s just dormant for the moment. All you have to do is put a dream in his head about them, and about him following them. Maybe we can do this with him thinking it’s his own free will.’

            Shelly shrugged. ‘I mean, I can try…’

            ‘Good. Then tomorrow night, we start as soon as he’s asleep.’ Byron turned to Alyssa. ‘And we’re going to need a car.’

            She arched an eyebrow. ‘So now you want me to steal cars?’

            After waking up some time in the late evening, his head pounding, Elliot decided that just about all he could manage was a few Advil, a hot shower, and a light meal, before he returned to his bed, feeling like a crash of rhinos was moving through his brain.

            He’d barely fallen asleep when the dream started. Something giant and black was rushing towards him. It wrapped around him like a blanket, damping out the world around him. He was standing in a darkened field, the grass high around him. Two men wee also in the field, busy working the ground with tools.

            The black BMW pulled up quietly, in the street outside of Elliot’s apartment. Alyssa sat in front with Byron driving, Justin and shelly in the back seat. Shelly lit a cigarette, and put it to his mouth, blowing the smoke out so it filled up the car. He closed his eyes and stretched out his hands in the air.

            His fingers danced and the smoke curled, forming shapes in the heavy atmosphere. He weaved it under his hands until it formed a ghostly landscape—a field in minute, smoky detail. Elliot stood amidst it, with two men working the soil near him. Shelly deftly curled tow tongues of smoke into figures. Justin and Alyssa took form on the edge of the field.

            Out of the corner of his eye Elliot saw two figures appear at the edge of the field. Man and woman. He wondered at them briefly in his dream state. Was that…? Where those black tattoos that swirled around their bodies? They took strides towards him, crossing into the thick grass. All of a sudden, the darkness had welled up around him again and was whisking him away to another field, this time with an orchard of trees not far off. Here too, the two men were busy tilling the ground.

            Shelly sucked in breath and his eyes sprang open. The smoke scene before him collapsed and drifted into a haze. ‘Someone’s there already. They’re taking him somewhere.’

            Alyssa and Justin sprang from the car simultaneously. The smoke poured away into the street behind them. They ran towards the house, leaping the low fence and running up the side of the house, scrambling with their hands for purchase. Justin caught the windowsill first and threw open the window so Alyssa could spring through, two blades growing from the tattoos that flowed to her hands. He launched himself in after her.

            He expected a fight, but found none. Alyssa crouched where she’d landed, scanning the room. The only other occupant was the slumbering boy in the bed.

            Justin moved to the bed and grabbed him, hefting his weight in his arms. Alyssa leapt back out of the window and slid across the hood of the car below. Byron was already out, running to the house. She took his place in the driving seat. Justin meanwhile moved to the window as a still groggy and hung-over Elliot started to come to. He made confused noises and then began to struggle against Justin’s grip—which was just fine for him. Justin let him go, dropping the boy out of the window and into Byron’s hefty, waiting arms. He climbed onto the sill and pulled the window closed behind him before leaping to the ground. The whole process took under a minute.

            Elliot struggled against the iron grip of the arm around his midriff and the hand that clamped over his mouth. Byron pushed him into the backseat, Justin slipping in beside the flailing boy. Byron took the front passenger seat and Alyssa was already speeding into the night before he’d closed the door.

            Elliot sat stonily between the two men in the backseat; he glanced at the one with the tattoos. ‘What do you people want from me?’

            No one said anything.

            ‘Look, if you want me to cooperate, you’re going to have to talk to me sooner or later.’

            The black man in the front seat turned and looked at him, a glossy eyebrow raised in curiosity, ‘What makes you think we want your cooperation?’

            Elliot stared back at him coolly. ‘Well you haven’t killed, beaten, or gagged me. But you should know, if you’re looking for ransom, my family isn’t rich, and I’m a student—I’m broke by nature.’

            The smaller guy on his left snorted at this.

            Elliot turned his head towards him. He was kind of mousy, short curly brown hair and a slight build. ‘What?’

            ‘Nothing. Just good to know you’ve been keeping up your education. Night classes?’

            He narrowed his eyes at him but didn’t reply. He turned to look at the young man on his right. He looked about the same age as himself. ‘So you do this much?’

            He didn’t respond.

            Elliot persisted. ‘Stalking and kidnapping people, I mean.’

            His cheeks flushed. It wasn’t much, but it was a response.

            ‘Oh yeah,’ he continued. ‘I remember you and her from the club. Both times.’ He nodded at the driver.

            ‘Are you sure he was bitten?’ The man in front asked out of the blue.

            The one on his left spoke, ‘He smells… normal. He’s gonna make the house smell like boy, you know.’

            ‘I know.’

            The car slowed and the driver parked. ‘What now?’ she asked.

‘           Front again. ‘Now we give him a room and make him comfortable.’

            ‘By ‘him’ I assume you mean me,’ Elliot interjected.

            His brown eyes moved around and fixed their gaze on him. ‘Given the circumstances, that seems fairly obvious.’

            ‘You’re really weird kidnappers.’

            ‘You’re a really weird kidnap-ee.’

            There wasn’t much he could say in response to that.

            The house they led him into was deceptively spacious. As they got out of the car and walked to the door, he briefly considered trying to make a run for it, but judging from their feats earlier, they were probably faster runners than him. The door opened without key and he was ushered inside, the black man leading the way. They moved down a short corridor, past two open doors, one to a kitchen and one to a living area. There were several other individuals already in occupancy in the darkened living room. As he passed the room, all eyes fixed on him. He felt oddly like a mouse being dangled before a cage full of snakes.

            They lead him past them, around a corner and down another long hall with several doors leading off. They stopped at the seventh or eighth door, which stood ajar. The woman gestured with her hand that he should enter, and cautiously, he did. It was a small, windowless room, complete with bed, empty wardrobe, and a chair in the far corner, He turned as the door slammed behind him and he heard a key turn in the lock. He ran back to it, pounding his fists on the wood.

            Eventually, after he’d bruised his hands and tired himself out thoroughly, he curled up on the large bed, holding his keens in the fetal position. With the adrenaline in his system fading away, his hangover returned and before he could help himself, he was drifting off to sleep again.

            As he slept, he dreamed, and in his dream, he opened his eyes. The room was dark, but two orbs floated like twin suns above him. They would vanish, like eyes blinking, only to reappear just as strongly. They tugged at him, pulled at something in his chest until he felt as if he body must be lifting off of the bed, and then a dark blanket was cast over him, damping out the room until only the glowing lights remained.