“Our hunt is done mostly by instinct. A potential meal wanders near, and if we are naturally hungry, we find ourselves awake in a form they find desirable. And we sing…”
“Play any instruments?”
“From time to time I have,” Nyx said. “I was quite good with the lyre in the Middle Ages. Not only do we tend to assume the form our prey finds most attractive, but we embrace the music that flows in their hearts. We engage all the senses. An appeal to the eye and ear.”
“You certainly do,” I said.
“Touch my hand…”
I reached over and put my hand on hers. “Wow, it’s incredibly smooth. Almost like a baby’s skin.”
Nyx nodded. “We smell good, too. Like I said, all the senses.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You smell distinctly… human. Not that I don’t find that pleasant and appetizing.”
“Of course I do,” Nyx said. “The last creature I attempted to seize was a vampire, after all.”
“Makes sense. I suppose that’s convenient. Helps you blend in. If you’d come out smelling like something humans like, like potpourri or gasoline, you’d be a lot harder to ignore.”
“Humans like the smell of gasoline?”
“Some do. Humans are weird. Some human males even like the smell of their own farts.”
Nyx narrowed her brow. “That certainly explains the time I emerged from the water with gigantic breasts and reeking of rotten eggs.”
I shrugged. “Good thing vampires don’t fart.”
“That’s bull and you know it.”
“What?” I asked. “I don’t fart. Not ever.”
“You feed. Even if rarely. That means you fart and poop.”
“I’m too pretty to fart,” I said, huffing.
“So am I. Doesn’t mean I don’t do it. I just try to be graceful about it.”
“There’s no such thing as a graceful fart,” I said. “No matter how discreet you try to be, you never know when it will come out loud and raunchy.”
Nyx pressed her lips together. “Sounds like a lot of experience from someone who never farts.”
“I used to be human!”
“Sure. Blame it on your ex-humanity.”
I folded my arms and stuck out my lip.
Nyx laughed. “So what was it you were saying about a human name?”
I took a breath—of course I fart. But I wasn’t about to admit it. I know, it’s silly. But vampire farts smell of iron and something else ungodly that I can’t quite define. Comes from the blood. It’s repulsive. The opposite of everything else about me. Still, Nyx was offering me the chance to change the subject. I was more than willing to oblige. “Human names tend to be either more commonly male or female. I’m simply suggesting you choose a name that communicates the feminine persona you clearly exude. It might help with people accepting you more as a woman.”
“Why do I need a name to do that?”
“You don’t.” I shrugged. “But technically all this stuff—the heels you’re wearing, the painted nails—it’s only feminine because society has decided it so. Same thing with certain names.”
“What’s a good name?” Nyx squinted, pondering the implications of the social construction of gender norms. Truth be told, with just a little exposure to the human world, it’s quite remarkable that she picked up on the differences between feminine and masculine norms so quickly.
“What about Nicky?”
“It’s pretty,” Nyx said. “I like that.”
“Then Nicky it is.”
Nyx… or Nicky, smiled wide before forcing herself to down another human nugget. Technically they were chicken nuggets, but maybe if we called them human it would feel more genuine. I mean, when someone eats imitation crab meat they still call it crab. Helps with the illusion. And it’s more appetizing than calling it mysteriously congealed, ground-up bits of white fish. Human nuggets would have to do—after all, who would want to actually eat chicken nuggets? Gross. Indeed, there is power in a name. When it comes to food and when it comes to creatures, like water elementals and vampers. The power of my name always came in its irony—the merciless vampire named Mercy. I could tell from the light that suddenly appeared in Nyx’s eyes that she loved the new name.
I could hear his loafers clacking against the hard tile floors. Dr. Cain was on his way for our daily “group” session. The first few sessions were pretty blasé. I was supposed to introduce myself to the “group,” which required a detailed account of my story. Nothing better to make a new girl feel welcome than forcing her to tell the story of her existence to a bunch of strange creatures—most of which were understandably unsettled about having a vampire amongst them. Hell, even Nyx had tried to eliminate me the moment she noticed what I was. Only by biting my tongue and exercising some patience was I able to make a friend out of the water elemental turned aspiring vampire hunter. It was especially annoying considering I was supposed to tell my story while everyone else merely gave an abbreviated introduction. Name, species, where they were from, and what they hoped to “get out” of their time in therapy. Everyone was bullshitting, jumping through all the requisite hoops to appease the doctor.
Only Galahad was exempt from the process—though he’d continued making use of the pad of construction paper and crayons I’d given him. When it was his turn to introduce himself, he simply wrote: Galahad. Equisapien. From here. Social skills. Brief, and to the point. Much better than Ed, who’d said, “Ed. Centaur. From your dreams. I’m here for the chicks.”
Today we resumed our normal pattern of introductions. Not being the new girl, I was able to use the usual formula.
“Mercy,” I said when it was my turn. “A vampire, obviously. From Rhode Island originally, but I’ve lived here most of my vampiric existence. Hoping to shut up the voice of my brother, who won’t get out of my head.”
It was the truth, but Dr. Cain seemed to think it was at least noteworthy that I acknowledged something relevant to the problem. He mostly expected a smartass remark—which, I should confess, I was prepared for. But I was playing nice. Staying off the doctor’s radar. Easier to sneak around that way, hopefully plan an escape.
“I’m Nicky,” Nyx said when it was her turn. “I’m an elemental species known as the Neck…”
“Wait,” Dr. Cain interrupted. “Nicky isn’t your name.”
“She doesn’t have a name,” I interjected. “Nyx is just her species. She wants to go by Nicky, so let her.”
“What about Nick?” Dr. Cain asked.
“Fuck you,” I said. “She’s a woman. Who are you to tell her what gender she should be?”
“It isn’t your concern, Mercy.”
“It is my concern. If you can’t respect a person’s gender choices…”
“That’s not the issue,” Dr. Cain said. “Her issue is an inability to accept her new reality. Her new human-like existence. My concern is that her gender dysphoria is not genuinely a question of gender, but a broader refusal to come to grips with what she, or he, has become.”
“So you just default to ‘he’ because of her body?” I asked.
“Questions of gender identity can be explored later. But first, Nyx needs to…”
“Nicky,” I interrupted.
“Nyx needs to accept that he’s become human-like, something more human than elemental, before we can begin to tackle those issues. Once he embraces his humanity, there is a good chance these peripheral issues will clear up.”
“Why is gender an issue? She wants to be a she. Call her that.”
“If he still feels that way once he comes to terms with his new form, his new existence, I will consider it.”
“Asshat,” I said. “As if making her uncomfortable is going to help her embrace the change.”
“This is not a matter for debate, Miss Brown.”
“Please,” I said, “I’ve lived long enough to remember when psychology wasn’t even considered a valid discipline. How many new diagnoses did they invent for your little D
SM book now? Who gets to decide what’s a disorder? Add to the fact that none of us here are human, none of us have human minds or patterns of thinking, and the proximity of your discipline to bullshit is even closer that it already is, even for humans.”
“Miss Brown,” Dr. Cain said.
“Mercy,” I said. “I told you once before I don’t like my last name. It reminds me of my father.”
“And why do you suppose I still continue to use it?”
“Because you’re an asshole.”
“Or because I’m hoping by reminding you of your father, it will help you realize where all your anger, all your issues with authority figures, really comes from.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”
“Miss Brown,” Dr. Cain said, “I will not allow your issues with my process to interfere with the group’s progress. We’ll discuss this matter in our private session later today.”
Or you could just rip his head off, Edwin remarked. It was the first time he’d spoken in my head in days. Usually he only spoke up when I was on a hunt, then he wouldn’t shut up. Why talk now?
“Brilliant,” I said, doing my best to ignore Edwin’s advice—even if, in this instance, I was more inclined to follow through with Edwin’s suggestion than I’d normally be. “Can’t wait.”
Chapter Ten
It struck me as an interesting irony that the Voodoo underworld employed a head shrink. Particularly since shrunken heads are a part of their magical repertoire. I casually wondered if, in Dr. Cain’s case, the term “head shrink” might be quite literal.
“You didn’t have to defend me like that,” Nyx said as she spun a loop of yarn around her crochet hook.
I shrugged as I put my feet up on the craft table. I wasn’t an arts and crafts kind of vampire. Still, a lot of folks took up inane hobbies here to help pass the time. I looked at what Nyx was trying to crochet together—it was pretty, whatever it was. She had some kind of pattern going and was alternating between multiple colors of yarn. “I needed to blow off some steam anyway, and Cain had it coming.”
“Isn’t going to help your case for getting out of here.”
I shrugged. “I have a feeling I’m here less because of any supposed treatment I need and more so I’ll stay out of Annabelle Mulledy’s way.”
“I don’t know the Voodoo Queen that well,” Nyx said. “Haven’t even spoken to her once. But I do know she has a lot on her plate and is, admittedly, more than over her head. What gets me is this—why does the Voodoo Queen think she has jurisdiction over any and every magical creature that might wander into New Orleans?”
I shook my head. “I think she’s paranoid. Not that she doesn’t have good reason to be. Whenever demons are loose, there’s no telling what they might be up to. And it wouldn’t be the first time demons have utilized magical creatures to accomplish their warped goals, whatever they might be.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Nyx said as she hooked a pink thread and pulled it through a white loop on her project.
“What are you making, anyway?” I asked.
“Panties.”
“Crochet panties? That sounds… awful.”
“Honey, they put me in boxer shorts. Nothing makes me feel less feminine to have my… unfortunate parts… dangling free, catching the breeze through this god-awful gown.”
“I’ve never had such… parts. I imagine they’d be awfully inconvenient at times. Super sensitive, just dangling there banging between your thighs.”
“You have no idea… When I get my shifting abilities back, that’s the first thing to go.”
“Maybe you could get it removed?”
Nyx shook her head. “You forget, I don’t have blood. My body is full of water. Cut me open and I can heal if I sew up my wound pretty quickly. But water doesn’t coagulate or scab.”
“So if you get cut, you just… drain out?”
“Not right away,” Nyx said. “But even a small cut can be deadly if left alone for too long.”
“That sounds… awful.”
“Another reason I need my abilities back. If I could shift, I could easily fix myself. But now, even a paper cut could be devastating.”
“If you’re drained, what happens? Do you die?”
Nyx shrugged. “Hell if I know. This is kind of uncharted territory for the Neck. I’ve never heard of one of us losing her powers before. This isn’t an issue any of us have ever had to face. Drain out and die? Maybe. Or perhaps I just wither up into a raisin. I’d rather not find out. Whatever happens, I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be pleasant.”
“Maybe even less pleasant than a one-on-one with Dr. Cain. Not looking forward to that today. Not after earlier.”
“Thing about Cain,” Nyx said. “He’s pretty set in his beliefs. You aren’t going to change his mind.”
“Seems like an insecure ass,” I said. “He probably needs the head-shrinking as much as any of us.”
Nyx shrugged. “Hard to teach someone to play an instrument if you don’t play it yourself.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Not sure Cain listens at all. It’s like he’s just going to sit there and toot his own horn and make anything I say fit his theory.”
“First, I don’t think he’s flexible enough to toot his own horn…”
I laughed. “Fair point.”
“But second, he might be way off on a lot of things. But he usually has some decent advice. You just have to sift through a lot of crap to find it. I try to make the best of it. Try and find something he says that might be helpful, then disregard whatever he says that’s off base.”
“What has he ever said to you that was remotely helpful?”
Nyx shrugged. “He isn’t wrong about me. I mean, not the gender part. He doesn’t get that. But he’s right about having to accept, at some level, what I am now as opposed to what I used to be.”
“Don’t give up hope, Nyx. Your powers might come back eventually. I mean, I’ve never bitten a creature like you. I have no idea what happened to your abilities. But not knowing if you can recover them and acting as though you never will are two different things.”
“I’m not saying I’m giving up. I’m saying he’s right—until then, I need to make the best of whatever I’ve become. For me, that’s being fabulous. Making music. Being gorgeous. Embracing whatever I can about who I am without shame.”
“Even your… unpleasant bits?” I asked, nodding toward Nyx’s nether regions.
“Apart from that,” Nyx said. “Not sure I can ever accept that thing!”
I chuckled. “We all have our limits.”
Lunch was just as bad as breakfast. I had my bottle of donated blood. Nyx had her imitation human meat—this time, it seemed, they’d fashioned it in the shape of a chicken patty. You could shape a turd into a burger, but it would still be a turd. The wonders of processed meats. Reshape them, deep fry them in different forms, and act like it’s a whole different kind of food.
I was mildly perturbed that Ed and Galahad—who sat two tables over—had a unique spread of various grasses and hay on their table.
“I wonder how their diet works,” I said to Nyx. “I mean, think about it. Galahad has a more or less human body, but a donkey’s head. His teeth are made for eating grasses and hay. But his body, if it’s as human on the inside as on the outside, probably craves a basic human diet. Ed, on the other hand…”
“A horse’s body—but his torso is all human-like. I’m guessing that includes his stomach?”
I nodded. “Makes sense. But then he must have a massive digestive tract in his lower half. I don’t know how it works—all I’m saying is that I bet both of them have serious digestion issues.”
“You have your appointment with Cain in a few minutes, and you’re wondering how centaurs and equisapiens digest their food?”
“What?” I asked. “Don’t tell me it isn’t a valid curiosity.”
“Some things are better left a mystery,” Nyx said.
I chuckled. “May
be you’re right. Still, it’s fucking weird.”
Nyx looked at me incredulously. “We’re in a mental asylum for the magically and mentally deranged… weird is the new normal.”
“But that’s the point, isn’t it? However Ed and Galahad process their food, it’s natural and normal for them… even if I don’t get it. Cain seems to think we should all be psychoanalyzed as if we were normal humans who just happen to have some supernatural baggage. But what I am, what my vampirism does, isn’t baggage. It’s my nature. Just like your diet for human flesh, it’s as natural to you as blood is to me. And the hunt… why should we be faulted for the place we inhabit on the food chain?”
“Maybe he isn’t trying to cure us at all,” Nyx said. “Maybe he’s trying to brainwash us. Make us think more like humans.”
“Think he’s trying to tame us? Make us less… threatening?”
“What would you do if you were a human? I mean, think about it. They try to take lions and tigers, too. But some creatures can’t be tamed. Even a tiger… you might think he’s tame. But wait. He’s just waiting for the right moment to unleash his real nature on his supposed human masters.”
“You know what,” I said, “that’s brilliant. Act human… play along with Cain’s bullshit plan. Let him think he’s succeeded. Then, strike when he least expects it.”
“Bait and switch, honey,” Nyx said. “It’s how my kind has always hunted. You too, I suspect. Lure them in with your natural appeal, then when you have them enthralled…”
“I suppose that’s true,” I said. “If only I had a way to get rid of this collar.”
“Is there a material or something you could put between the collar and your skin?”
I shook my head. “Kevlar works, usually. It isn’t perfect. It allows us to get out into the sun for brief intervals without an effect. But how would we even go about finding something like that here? All we have are these threadbare hospital gowns and bed sheets.”
“There are other options. Pick the lock. Disrupt the signal that turns it on, somehow.”
“All things that would require knowledge and expertise, not to mention resources, that we don’t have.”
Bloody Mad: A Dark Urban Fantasy Story (The Legacy of a Vampire Witch Book 2) Page 6
