Blacke Harbor

“I suppose your work isn’t exactly AMA-approved, is it?” He heard Jurgis chuckle.

“Everything we do is completely legal,” Jurgis said. “But vampirism isn’t something the medical community likes to admit to these days.”

“We work in a legal gray area,” added Catherine, tucking the file under her arm and reaching for her black shoulder bag. “There’s nothing illegal or unethical about our regimen but there are . . . certain people . . . who wish we wouldn’t do it at all. That’s why we work in secret. They don’t ask too many questions and we don’t make them look like the cowards they are.”

“Well, this is it,” said Jurgis. He jerked his head of white hair toward the massive walnut doors of the enormous stone house.

Erik watched as one of the wide doors opened and a thin fossil of a man exited the home and began a careful trek down the dark stone steps.

“Boris will help you move the things you need down to the treatment room,” said Jurgis. “Grab a set of pajamas and a pair of slippers.” He dangled the cart’s key ring and then stuck the key back into place. “Let me plug this thing in and I’ll be right in.”