by Maria Arnt
“Tammy,” she replied.
“So, uh, you wanna dance?” He flexed rather unsubtly.
Inwardly she cringed, and reached out to put a hand on one swollen pec. “Nah. How about we go somewhere a little more private?” she asked suggestively.
“Sure thing, babe!” and without another word, he began cutting a swath through the crowd.
As they passed Seth, he gave her a look that clearly said, Really? You’re going to eat that? She just glared at him and followed Chad the Muscular to a back hallway. It was dingy and poorly lit, and they weren’t even alone. But the other two people were obviously more interested in each other, anyway. It would have to do.
“Did you know that guy who was giving me the eye?” Chad asked.
Great. “That’s... uh, my friend. I came here with him.” As soon as she realized how that sounded, she pressed on. “He’s gay,” she said quickly, “and we have really different taste in guys.”
Chad looked doubly relieved. And without further ado, he made his move, if it could be called that. She hadn’t been kissed in a while since Seth had stuck strictly to her rules, but she was fairly certain his tongue wasn’t supposed to go that far down her throat. He shuffled her towards the wall, nearly stepped on her foot and successfully smacked her head on the thin drywall.
Using his mumbled apology as an excuse to escape the vacuum of his mouth, she kissed her way down his neck to the thick trapezium.
“Ooh, you like to bite, huh?” He made a sound that only vaguely resembled a cat.
Oh, shut up! She thought, and to her mixed horror and relief, he did, and he stopped humping her to boot.
He still clung to her tightly as she fed, though, and for all his muscles, he felt laughably weak to her. His blood wasn’t as bad as the human she’d killed, but it had a nasty, metallic aftertaste to it. She had no trouble stopping as soon as he started gasping, the first sign of stress according to Seth.
Pulling his collar back away from the small bite wound—she actually hadn’t done much damage, she was proud to see—she studied his glazed expression for signs of shock. It looked like he would bounce back easily after he snapped out of it. But in the meantime, she had to make an alibi.
“You took things too far, and I totally kicked your ass,” she whispered into his ear, the words drifting deep into his receptive mind. Technically, this was enough—Seth had encouraged her to keep it simple. But she was just a teensy bit high from the blood and the power, so she took it one step further.
“This makes you question your masculinity. You’re going to do some deep soul-searching, and decide you need to get involved in women’s rights,” she instructed.
“That’s quite enough,” Seth drawled from the darkness. “I don’t think his tiny little brain could take much more.”
Tanya shifted out of the way so Seth could clean Chad up, watching as he passed a thumb over the wound, making it disappear like a street magician. He licked the blood off his thumb and grimaced. “Steroids,” he muttered.
“S’a protein shake,” Chad slurred.
Exchanging a glance, the two vampires made an exit before he came to his senses.
“So...” Seth said as they headed back through the club, “That’s your type? Jocks?”
She snorted. Was he actually jealous? It would seem the feeding bond was taking longer to wear off for him. “No, he looked like an easy mark.”
“Ah yes,” Seth said loftily. “The young hunter takes care to target the stragglers amongst the herd: the young, the sick, the douchebag,” he narrated.
This time she genuinely laughed and bit back a reassurance. Because honestly, there was absolutely no comparison. Seth far exceeded Chad in every aspect: strength, attractiveness, skill—he was even a better kisser, if memory served her right, although that wasn’t saying much.
“Next time I recommend you choose someone you’re genuinely attracted to,” he advised. “You’ll find it much more enjoyable.”
Jolted out of her mental catalog of Seth’s many superior qualities by his one overpowering flaw—his personality—Tanya crossed her arms.
“I don’t want to enjoy it, Seth. It’s just a temporary solution until I can fight. Then I’ll just feed off other vampires,” she reminded him
“You can’t do that forever,” he warned.
“I don’t plan on forever,” she said darkly.
To this, he said nothing.
“Do you mind?” Tanya gestured to the bathrooms. “I want to wash my face.”
“Take your time,” he said graciously.
In truth, Tanya just wanted a moment to collect herself. The bathroom wasn’t too crowded, although it smelled like someone had been smoking in there not long before. She made her way to the frosted window, which had been opened a little to let in some cool, fresh air. Despite how well this feeding had gone, she felt as though she was just barely holding it together. She couldn’t really put her finger on why, the music and the smells didn’t bother her much anymore. Seth had been polite for most of the night. She hadn’t killed Chad. Everything seemed to be going perfectly.
Maybe that was the problem.
Peeking out the window into the alley, she turned the idea over in her head. If she was perfectly honest with herself, she had hoped that this would not go well. She didn’t want to feed from Seth again, but she didn’t want this to work either. She didn’t want any of it to work. No matter which of the solutions worked, it always meant Seth was right. She didn’t want him to be right.
And she didn’t want to enjoy being a vampire.
As if she had finally hit the nail on the head, her panic took over. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t enjoy the thing she had become. She had to get out. Pulling on the window, she forced it up far enough to get through. A gust of cold November wind came in.
“Hey, what the hell?” one of the other girls complained.
Tanya whirled, afraid Seth would hear. Holding out a hand, she motioned for them to be quiet, glancing at the door. Everyone in the room went silent.
The girl who had spoken looked from her, to the door, then back again. “Your man out there?” she asked, suspicious.
Tanya nodded.
“You making a run for it?” she guessed.
“Yeah. I think I am.”
The other girls made sympathetic expressions.
“Go,” one of them told her. “We’ll shut the window after. He’ll never know.”
“Thank you,” she breathed, hitched her purse higher on her shoulder, and then hopped out the window. It wasn’t much of a drop, and effortless for her, although she was grateful she’d worn jeans and a tight shirt. Looking up, she saw the window slide shut.
Now what?
Well, there were really only two choices at the moment: left or right. The front of the club was to her right, so she went left. At first, she walked quickly, then jogged, then sprinted. She took turns at random, avoiding the bright lights of major streets and sticking to alleys as much as she could. The crisp air flooded her senses, as polluted as it was it still felt great. The rhythm of her feet against the pavement, her purse against her side, and her heart beating free in her chest were amazing. She had no idea what she was going to do, long-term, but for right now she was free!
It felt like she could run forever. The sun wasn’t due to come up for another eight hours, and she was confident she could figure something out by then. It felt like she’d been running for a good hour before she finally had to stop and catch her breath. The need to make a plan niggled at the back of her mind, but she was too busy enjoying her freedom to worry about that now.
She stood at a street corner, but the names, West Foster and North Pulaski, meant nothing to her. She had stopped in a small park, and across the street was a strip mall, and a large darkness beyond it. She doubted she had hit the edge of town—her internal sense of direction told her she had run north, with the lake to her right, and it would take longer than an hour to run out of Chicago in th
at direction. Still, she was intrigued by the seclusion of the darkness and thought it might be a good place to hide out.
After crossing the street, she wandered behind the strip mall. There was a high iron fence, but, checking for onlookers and security cameras first, it was easily vaulted. Maybe it was some fancy person’s home, although it seemed weird to have a strip mall next door.
As Tanya meandered through the sparsely wooded park, her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. A ways off there were strange objects, little protrusions from the ground, in all sorts of shapes and sizes, although they seemed evenly spaced. She was almost on top of one by the time she recognized what it was. A grave marker.
A cemetery. She all but laughed aloud. Of all the hiding spots in Chicago, I run into a cemetery. How cliché. I wonder if I can break into a mausoleum.
As she considered the irony of her destination, a sound in the distance caught her attention. It sounded like a person, a woman, but it came from deeper into the cemetery. Intrigued, she headed that way. Drawing closer, she realized there were two voices, a man who was close to shouting and a woman who stayed quiet but didn’t seem very happy about it.
At last, she came around a corner and saw them. The man had a fierce grip on the woman’s arm, forcing her to kneel before him.
“Please don’t,” the woman begged, but she didn’t sound very hopeful that the man would listen. She wore a black long-sleeved shirt and a simple black skirt. Her hair was dark, too, making her pale skin stand out in the darkness. She looked underfed and brittle.
“Master Michael don’t care ‘ow it’s done, long as you come back,” the man sneered, and reached down to fumble with his belt one-handed.
If his words hadn’t tipped her off, Tanya still would have known the man was a vampire. He wasn’t very powerful, but he made no attempt to mask what power he had. And even if he was human, she wasn’t about to let him rape the poor girl. This was exactly what she had asked for, a chance to play the hero. She debated going for the dramatic gesture, but recalling Seth’s words about her not being able to go toe-to-toe with another vampire yet, she opted for stealth.
She backed around the mausoleum so she could come up behind the vampire. The girl caught sight of her, but wisely said nothing and struggled harder, as if to distract her attacker and help Tanya out.
Taking her chance, Tanya rushed forward and caught the attacker in a choke hold. If she had done it right, Seth had taught her that it would cut off the blood supply to the brain and render a vampire unconscious in about twenty seconds. But this guy was a good six inches taller than her, and his meaty neck made it difficult to apply pressure in the right places.
“Oy!” The man stopped trying to get his fly undone and reached up to scrabble at her arms. He still had only one hand to work with but was starting to prize one of her arms free, so she kicked at the back of his knee to make him go down. It didn’t work.
“Bloody ‘ell,” the vampire let go of his victim, only to cuff the girl, knocking her to the ground. Now he had both hands free and easily pulled Tanya’s arm off his neck. When he turned to strike her, though, she caught him off balance. Easily gliding into Parting the Horse’s Mane, she tripped him over her knee and he fell hard to the ground.
Tanya had a moment of internal victory, and then realized she had no idea what to do next. Before she could decide, he reached out and grabbed her ankle, pulling her down. He lunged on top of her and started punching. His thick, heavy fists were like rocks pounding into her, and on his second strike he easily broke her nose.
The blood that came pouring down her throat was like a shock of electricity. Shoving as hard as she could, she pushed his weight off and scrambled to get away. He caught her around the neck, and even though she managed to tuck her chin and keep him from getting to her throat, his massive bicep covered her face. The pain against her nose was excruciating—she could see lights behind her eyes—and she didn’t think she could stay conscious long. But after a moment, he jerked and his arm loosened considerably. Not waiting to see what he would do next, she bit down on his upper arm hard.
Luckily she hit the major artery there, his blood pouring into her mouth, washing out the taste of her own. It wasn’t at all like human blood. It didn’t taste like tomatoes, it tasted like wine. Cheap boxed wine, in his case, but still delicious. The more she drank, the less he struggled.
Before long she could feel his ka, and although it burned brighter than the humans’ she had seen, it was strangely hollow. Curious, she didn’t hesitate to take it, reveling in her unexpected victory. It wasn’t as satisfying as the delirious trance she remembered, but it was still an electrifying high.
Finished, she pulled back and looked down at the body of the vampire she had just killed. Tanya felt none of the guilt she had from any of her previous feedings. Instead, she was inordinately proud of herself.
“You... you drained him,” a feeble voice said.
Shit, the woman. Tanya looked up to see her, watching with wide eyes. She thought for sure that the girl had been knocked out by her attacker’s blow, but apparently no such luck. In fact, she held a large brick in her hand, and Tanya realized she must have beaned the man while he had her in a chokehold.
“Um...” she tried hurriedly to wipe the blood off her face, noticing as she did so that her nose was no longer broken.
“I’ve never seen a vampire die that way,” the woman let the brick fall and brushed the dirt off her hands. “As much as I abhor killing, it seems rather fitting. Thank you.”
Tanya stood slowly, giving the woman a closer look in the darkness. She was plain, thin and pale, but her chocolate brown eyes seemed to glow with warmth in the darkness.
“You’re a vampire,” she realized out loud.
The woman nodded. “More’s the pity. My name’s Beatrice.”
“Tanya,” she held her hand out, then realized it was covered in blood and let it drop.
“Not that I don’t appreciate your help, but I’m afraid you may have gotten yourself in quite a bit of trouble. Master Michael has been trying to call me in for some weeks now, and he won’t be happy that one of his goons has been killed on what should have been a simple errand.” Beatrice knelt down next to the man, and to Tanya’s surprise, crossed his arms over his chest before crossing herself. “What are you doing out here, anyway?”
She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something about Beatrice that made Tanya want to trust her. “Running away,” she admitted.
Beatrice looked up, surprised. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-three.”
“Older than I thought,” she stood, glancing around the dark cemetery. “But still, I’m impressed. It was a good fifty years before I had the courage and resources to escape from Master Michael for the first time.” Her voice had a lovely British accent, like something out of a Jane Austen movie.
“Oh.” Tanya had forgotten that Seth had once mentioned vampires reckoned their age from the date of turning, not from their birth as a human. “No, sorry, I was twenty-three. I’ve only been a vampire for like a month and a half.”
Beatrice whipped around to gape at her. “Where are you going to spend the day?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet,” she shrugged. “We’ve got time, though.”
The petite vampire pressed her lips together, obviously distressed. “Listen, I know you don’t want to hear this right now, believe me, I do, but we have to get you back to your Master.”
Tanya backed away from her, shaking her head.
“Listen to me,” Beatrice reached out and caught one of Tanya’s hands. Her touch was cold but somehow reassuring. “I do not know what horrors you’ve had to face. I truly understand that you want to escape. But you cannot succeed without a plan. Especially at your age, you can’t imagine what kind of violence you would wreak come the dawn.”
The echo in her words of Seth’s warning made her pause and listen. Once it was clear Tanya wasn’t going anywhere, Be
atrice seemed to calm down.
“We do have a little time. Master Michael will have felt his death,” she gestured to the body. “He will be angry, but he is too far away to pursue me further this night. Especially if he thinks that I somehow killed him, he might like to make me wallow in guilt for a while.”
Tanya frowned. “If he’s your Master, why doesn’t he just mind-control you and make you go back?”
“He could,” Beatrice sighed. “But this is more fun for him.” She spoke plainly, and Tanya reeled at how long this woman must have had to live this way for it to be so plain and factual for her.
Tanya looked around for a good place to stash the body. She tried the door of the nearest mausoleum, but it was locked. The next one was too, but it rattled when she shook it. With a sharp yank, she broke the lock. Inside was a collection of dead leaves drifted against the two walls of niches. It looked like no one had visited for a long time. Perfect.
Picking the goon up by the shoulders, Tanya was surprised to see Beatrice take up his feet. Wordlessly they moved him into the mausoleum, and Tanya wrenched the door shut once again, bending the metal carefully. Hopefully, no one would notice the slightly misshapen old door. Tanya brushed off her hands and walked away, and Beatrice followed in her wake.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I must confess I am terribly curious how a changeling managed to slip her Master.” Beatrice had a wry smile, as if she couldn’t help but be impressed despite her obvious disapproval of Tanya’s lack of preparation.
“Seth, the guy who made me, he took me out to feed. I’m still... getting the hang of it. I hate it,” she explained.
Beatrice put a sympathetic hand on her arm. “It’s awful,” she agreed. “Especially when you can’t help but kill them.”
The realization that there was at least one other vampire that felt that way was enough to stop Tanya in her tracks. “Well, I’ve actually only accidentally killed someone once. But anyway, I went to the bathroom, to wash my face, and jumped out a window.”
