MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

The processing center had once been a bank—marble floors, high ceilings, ornate molding that spoke of better times. Now it was a sterile maze of queues and stations, each one designed to catalogue and control. Blake and Rose stood in line behind a nervous-looking vampire couple, their hands clasped tight enough to leave marks.

"Next," called the clerk, a pale human woman whose dead eyes suggested she'd seen too much of Salvador's efficiency.

Blake stepped forward first, Rose close behind. The clerk's gaze swept over them with practiced indifference.

"Names?"

"Blake Laurent. Rose Laurent," Blake replied, keeping his voice steady.

She typed with mechanical precision. "Purpose of return to the territory?"

"Family," Rose answered. "Our daughter lives here."

The clerk's fingers paused momentarily before resuming their rhythm. "Daughter's registration number?"

Blake felt a chill. They hadn't thought to ask Reggie for Celena's number. Rose's hand tightened on his arm, but her voice remained calm.

"We'll need to verify that information," she said, letting a hint of compulsion slip into her words.

The clerk blinked slowly. "Of course. We can... update records later." She stamped their forms. "Station Three for blood work. Station Five for housing assignment. Station Seven for work placement."

They moved through the stations like cattle through a slaughterhouse. At Station Three, a bored technician drew their blood into vials labeled with barcodes. Blake watched his essence disappear into Salvador's system, each drop a surrender.

"Daily quota will be determined based on blood quality," the technician droned. "Grade A vampires contribute two pints weekly. Grade B, three pints. Grade C..." He trailed off, studying something on his screen. "Interesting."

"What?" Rose asked, though her tone suggested the technician had better choose his next words carefully.

"Your blood registers as Grade S," he said, looking up with the first spark of interest he'd shown. "Both of you. That's... rare."

Blake's jaw tightened. Grade S meant power. It meant attention they didn't want.

"What does that mean for our quotas?" Rose asked.

The technician consulted his screen again. "Grade S vampires are... exempt from standard blood tax. You'll receive different assignments." He stamped their papers with a different symbol—a red star that seemed to pulse with meaning.

At Station Five, their housing assignment raised more eyebrows. "Crescent Hill?" The clerk frowned. "That's restricted territory. How did you—"

"Family connection," Blake said firmly. "We're staying with registered residents."

More typing. More stamps. Blake noticed other vampires in line watching them with mixtures of envy and fear. The red stars on their papers marked them as different, potentially dangerous.

Station Seven was where things got interesting.

"Grade S vampires report directly to District Command," the work placement officer explained. She was vampire, older, with the kind of scars that spoke of survival rather than victory. "You'll receive assignments based on specific skill sets."

"What kind of assignments?" Rose asked.

The woman's eyes flicked toward the security cameras mounted in the corners before answering. "Enforcement. Investigation. Special projects." She leaned forward slightly. "Word of advice—keep your heads down. Grade S status comes with benefits, but also expectations."

They left the processing center with identification cards, housing permits, and a growing understanding of how thoroughly Salvador had restructured society. The city beyond the center's doors looked different in daylight—cleaner in some ways, but with an underlying tension that made Blake's skin crawl.

"We need to get back to Celena," Rose said as they walked toward the transport station.

"Agreed, but first—" Blake gestured toward a coffee shop across the street. "We need to talk about what just happened."

The shop was nearly empty, its few customers keeping to themselves with the practiced isolation of people who'd learned not to ask questions. Blake and Rose took a corner booth, speaking in the low tones of conspirators.

"Grade S," Rose murmured. "That's not good."

"It explains why the enforcers last night were so interested in us," Blake replied. "Salvador's collecting powerful vampires."

Rose stirred her coffee absently. "For what?"

Before Blake could answer, their identification cards chimed—a soft, electronic sound that made both of them tense. Rose flipped hers over, revealing a small screen displaying a message:

*REPORT TO DISTRICT COMMAND - LEVEL 5 - 1400 HOURS TODAY. MANDATORY ORIENTATION FOR GRADE S PERSONNEL.*

Blake's card displayed the same message.

"Three hours," he said, checking his watch.

Rose's expression hardened. "We can't leave Celena again. Not so soon."

"We might not have a choice." Blake pocketed his card. "But we can use this. Get inside Salvador's operation, see what we're really dealing with."

The transport ride back to Crescent Hill was tense, both of them lost in thought. The other passengers gave them a wide berth—whether due to their Grade S cards or some instinctive recognition of predators, Blake couldn't tell.

Nana met them at the door before they could knock, her weathered face creased with worry. "How did it go?"

"Complicated," Blake said, following her inside. "Where's Celena?"

"Upstairs, working on mathematics with Reggie. She's been asking for you every ten minutes." Nana's eyes narrowed as she studied their expressions. "What happened?"

Rose explained quickly while Blake listened for sounds from upstairs—the soft murmur of Reggie's voice, Celena's higher tones asking questions. Normal sounds. Safe sounds.

"Grade S," Nana repeated when Rose finished. "That's bad."

"Why?" Blake asked. "What aren't you telling us?"

Nana moved to the window, peering through the curtains at the quiet street. "Grade S vampires who don't cooperate... they disappear. Their families too." She turned back to them. "Salvador's been building something. An army, maybe. Or worse."

Footsteps on the stairs interrupted the conversation. Celena appeared in the doorway, her face lighting up when she saw her parents.

"You're back!" She rushed to Rose, who swept her up despite her protests that she was too old for such things.

"We're back," Rose confirmed, holding her daughter tight. "But we have to go out again this afternoon."

Celena's expression fell. "Already?"

Blake knelt beside them. "It's just for a few hours. We're learning about our new jobs."

"What kind of jobs?" Celena asked, her sharp mind immediately focusing on the important details.

Blake and Rose exchanged a look. How do you explain to your daughter that you've been conscripted into the enemy's forces?

"We're going to help people," Rose said carefully. "Make sure everyone is safe."

It wasn't entirely a lie, Blake reflected. They would help people—just not in the way Salvador intended.

Reggie appeared in the doorway, his massive frame filling the space. "Heard about your morning," he said grimly. "We need to talk."

The next hour was spent in hurried planning. Reggie explained what he knew about District Command, the layout, the security measures. Nana packed them a bag with items that looked innocent but could serve as weapons or tools. Most importantly, they established communication protocols.

"Every four hours," Reggie insisted. "If we don't hear from you, we assume the worst."

"And if something happens to us?" Rose asked, her arms around Celena.

"We get her out," Nana said simply. "Randal left instructions. Safe routes, contacts outside the city."

Blake nodded, though the thought of Celena fleeing into the unknown made his chest tight. "It won't come to that."

"Daddy?" Celena looked up at him with those too-serious eyes. "Are you going to fight the bad people?"

Blake chose his words carefully. "We're going to learn about them first. Know your enemy, right?"

She nodded solemnly. "Uncle Reggie taught me that."

As they prepared to leave for District Command, Blake caught sight of himself in the hallway mirror. He looked like any other vampire adjusting to Salvador's new order—properly dressed, properly subdued, properly processed.

The reflection lied.

Beneath the surface, the fire that had burned through the spirit world still smoldered, banked but not extinguished. Rose stood beside him, her own mask of compliance hiding the predator that had bent two enforcers to her will with nothing but voice and presence.

They were going into the heart of enemy territory. They would smile, nod, and follow orders.

And they would learn everything they needed to burn it all down.

"Ready?" Rose asked, adjusting her identification card so the red star was clearly visible.

Blake took her hand, squeezing once. "Together."

They left for District Command, two wolves in sheep's clothing, carrying the hopes of everyone they'd left behind.