Logan Echolls

Josef couldn't remember what he'd done the night before, but it must've been a hell of a party. He'd passed out in a bed. And where on Earth had he ended up this time?

Right. He was keeping a low profile, since all of Los Angeles (or at least the parts that mattered) thought he had been blown up with his office. He found a wallet on the nightstand and examined the contents. It appeared he would be going by the name "Logan Echolls" for the time being.

The fridge was well-stocked with blood, so he heated up a glass in the microwave while he made a few phone calls. Staying in some vintage hotel was all fine and dandy, but there were certain amenities he wasn't going to do without. He took a sip of the blood and gagged. Had it gone bad? No, no, it was far worse. He spat it back in the mug and wiped his mouth. "Oh, Mick!" Josef sighed at the mug. "Pig's blood. You have gone too far, my friend." He made one more call.

An hour later he had showered and changed into a proper suit. He sipped at a fresh glass of O Positive and read the day's Wall Street Journal while two girls wearing high heels and very little else massaged his feet.

[For that other vampire.]