MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

The District Command building rose like a black monolith against the afternoon sky, its windows tinted so dark they seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Blake and Rose approached through a plaza filled with other vampires—all bearing the red stars of Grade S classification, all wearing the same expression of controlled wariness.

"Impressive turnout," Rose murmured as they joined the stream of individuals moving toward the entrance.

Blake counted at least fifty vampires in the plaza, more arriving every minute. "He's been busy recruiting."

Security at the entrance was thorough—blood scanners, metal detectors, and something Blake didn't recognize that hummed with an unsettling energy. The vampire operating it wore lieutenant's bars and the kind of smile that never reached the eyes.

"Welcome to orientation," he said as Blake and Rose passed through. "You'll find it... enlightening."

The lobby beyond was all black marble and chrome, designed to intimidate. A reception desk manned by humans in gray uniforms dominated the center, while armed guards—both vampire and human—watched from strategic positions. Blake noted the exits, the blind spots, the places where cover might be found if things went sideways.

Old habits.

"Laurent, Blake and Rose?" A young vampire in a crisp uniform approached, tablet in hand. "I'm Officer Martinez. I'll be your orientation guide."

Martinez led them through corridors that felt more like arteries in some vast organism, branching and merging with mathematical precision. Other groups moved through the building, all heading toward the same destination—a auditorium deep in the building's heart.

"Questions are encouraged during the presentation," Martinez said as they walked. "Commander Salvador believes in transparency with his Grade S personnel."

The auditorium could hold three hundred people. Today it was nearly full. Blake and Rose found seats near the back, positioning themselves where they could watch both the stage and their fellow audience members. The vampires around them represented decades of power and experience—the kind of individuals who didn't submit easily.

Which made their presence here all the more troubling.

The lights dimmed as a figure took the stage. Not Salvador himself, but someone who carried his authority like a second skin. Tall, pale, with the kind of ageless features that spoke of centuries rather than decades. When he smiled, Blake caught a glimpse of fangs filed to razor points.

"Welcome," the figure said, his voice carrying easily through the auditorium without amplification. "I am Vincent Cross, Salvador's chief administrator. Today, you begin your true service to the new order."

A presentation began, complete with charts and graphics that laid out Salvador's vision with corporate efficiency. Territory divisions. Population management. Resource allocation. It was all very civilized, very organized.

Very wrong.

"The old ways are dead," Cross continued as images flashed across the screens—before and after shots of the city, statistics showing increased 'productivity' and 'efficiency.' "Chaos has been replaced by order. Waste by purpose. The strong now serve their proper function."

Blake felt Rose tense beside him as Cross began detailing the Grade S assignments. Enforcement operations. Population control. What he called 'special projects' that remained frustratingly vague.

"Your first assignments will be distributed after today's session," Cross announced. "Partners will be assigned based on compatibility assessments. Questions?"

A vampire near the front raised her hand. "What about family considerations? Some of us have dependents."

Cross's smile widened. "Family is strength. Salvador understands this. Proper service ensures proper protection." The implied threat hung in the air like smoke.

More questions followed, each one answered with the same blend of reassurance and menace. Blake learned that Grade S vampires were housed in designated districts, their children educated in specialized schools, their every movement tracked and analyzed.

A golden cage, but a cage nonetheless.

When the presentation ended, they were divided into smaller groups for individual processing. Blake and Rose found themselves separated—him sent to Room 237, her to Room 241. The last thing Blake saw before the doors closed was Rose's eyes meeting his, a lifetime of communication passing between them in that instant.

Room 237 held twenty vampires and one very nervous human administrator. The man fumbled with his tablet as he called names, assigning partnerships based on criteria he didn't share.

"Laurent, Blake," he eventually called. "You're partnered with Reeves, Marcus."

The vampire who stood was built like a prizefighter, all muscle and controlled aggression. When he shook Blake's hand, his grip was firm enough to crush bone.

"Heard interesting things about you," Marcus said as they moved to a corner for their assignment briefing. "Five-year absence, then you show up with Grade S blood. That's quite a story."

Blake studied his new partner. Marcus had the look of a survivor—scars along his jawline, eyes that never stopped moving, the subtle tension of someone always ready to fight or flee.

"What kind of interesting things?" Blake asked.

Marcus's grin was sharp. "The kind that make me think Salvador's not the only one with secrets." He leaned closer. "Word is you tangled with something big in the spirit world. Something that left marks."

Before Blake could respond, their administrator approached with assignment folders. "Your first operation begins tonight," he said, handing each of them a sealed envelope. "Target is a suspected resistance cell in the Warehouse District. Intelligence suggests they're harboring unregistered humans."

Blake's blood chilled. The Warehouse District was where Reggie had mentioned several safe houses operated.

"What's our objective?" Marcus asked, though his tone suggested he already knew.

"Elimination," the administrator replied. "No survivors."

The briefing continued for another hour, covering routes, equipment, contingencies. Blake absorbed it all while his mind raced through implications. Their first night back in the field, and Salvador was sending them to destroy the very people they'd come home to help.

When the session ended, Blake met Rose in the lobby. Her expression was controlled, but he could see the tension in her shoulders.

"Interesting afternoon?" he asked casually, aware that they were likely being monitored.

"Educational," she replied. "You?"

"The same. Dinner?"

They left District Command with their assignments and a growing understanding of how thoroughly Salvador had infiltrated every aspect of their new existence. The car ride home was silent, both of them processing what they'd learned and what it meant for their family.

Reggie was waiting when they arrived at Nana's house, his massive frame filling the kitchen doorway. Celena sat at the table, working through what appeared to be calculus problems while Nana prepared dinner.

"How did it go?" Reggie asked, though his tone suggested he already suspected the answer.

Blake waited until Celena was distracted by her mathematics before pulling out his assignment folder. Reggie's expression darkened as he read.

"The Morrison warehouse," he said quietly. "That's where the Hendricks family is hiding."

Rose looked up from her own folder. "I have surveillance duty in the Financial District. Three locations that happen to be resistance meeting points."

Nana set down her cooking spoon with more force than necessary. "They're using you to destroy your own allies."

"First test of loyalty," Blake said grimly. "And if we refuse..."

"They'll know we're not what we claim to be," Rose finished.

Celena looked up from her homework. "Is everything okay?"

The adults exchanged glances before Rose moved to sit beside their daughter. "We're just discussing work, sweetheart. How are your problems coming?"

"Easy," Celena said, though she continued to study the adults' faces with uncomfortable perception. "Are you going to work tonight?"

"For a little while," Blake said. "But we'll be back before you wake up."

It was a promise he hoped he could keep.

As the evening progressed, they developed their plan in careful fragments, speaking in code while Celena was present, gathering in urgent conferences when she was out of earshot. By the time night fell, they had the skeleton of a strategy that might—might—let them complete their assignments without betraying their true loyalties.

It would require perfect timing, flawless execution, and a considerable amount of luck.

"You sure about this?" Reggie asked as they prepared to leave.

Blake checked his equipment one final time. "No. But it's what we have."

Rose kissed Celena goodnight, holding her daughter perhaps a moment longer than usual. "Be good for Nana and Uncle Reggie."

"I will," Celena promised. "Be careful, Mommy."

As they prepared to leave for their first night as Salvador's agents, Blake caught sight of their reflection in the hallway mirror again. This time, the lie was even more complete—they looked like the enemy, moved like the enemy, carried the enemy's weapons and orders.

But their eyes still burned with the fire that had carried them through the spirit world and back to their daughter's side.

Tonight, they would walk in darkness.

But they would not become it.