Vampire Night

by Alice Bell

  The bartender’s angry expression softened; he was besotted within a span of seconds. “Bring those drinks to the party on the patio,” Inka told him. “And be distracting.”

  Zadie watched the bartender scuttle off with a tray. She glanced at Inka and realized Inka was afraid. She’d never known Inka to fear anything.

  “Come on,” Inka practically jerked Zadie’s arm from its socket. She pulled her out the back. “You idiot,” she hissed. “Your little friend? Her boy toys are Angels.”

  Zadie’s mind reeled. She could barely comprehend Inka’s words.

  They leaped off the porch and over garbage cans.

  The night was black. “Through the trees,” Inka commanded. And she was gone.

  But Zadie’s reflexes had been numbed by shock. Unfamiliar with the terrain, she couldn’t visualize her destination, which made her slow. She could only run, like a human.

  Through the trees… through the trees.

  She ran in a jagged line toward the heart of the forest. A terrible growl shook the earth and struck terror into her soul.

  The growling came from howler monkeys but to Zadie’s ears it was the sound of the devil rising up. With each foot fall, her panic mounted. Blood pounded in her veins. Her heart strained. She gasped for breath and veered away, toward the lake.

  She burst out into the open, a fatal mistake. Sand stretched white. Wings beat the sky above her. She plunged into the water, the opposite of what Inka had told her to do.

  Her arms flapped. She sputtered and flailed as the poisonous net of Angels stung her flesh, like a swarm of sea wasps.

  Devon

  I didn’t want to leave Scarlett.

  I stood on her street in the shadows, like the night I’d first seen her. I had all these feelings I’d forgotten about—love and loss, heartbreak. Scarlett made me remember how to be human. She’d given me back my soul and for that reason I had to leave her. To save her.

  A red Jeep came around the corner and stopped in front of the gate. A sandy-haired man jumped out, a man I recognized as Henry West. As I watched him press the buzzer, I tried to decide if I could bear to leave Scarlett with him.

  He was clean-cut, which was good, I figured. Conservative types were more reliable. Weren’t they? What did I know? But I’d seen how they looked at each other. I knew she liked him, I’d known from the night we met and I’d listened to her leave that achy voicemail for him, so full of longing.

  Naturally, I made her forget all about Henry but now…

  Now she’d forget me. How quickly would the pill take effect? Had she already forgotten?

  All rational thought left me. I leapt out of the dark and in less than a second I was on Henry. I had him by the lapels of his jacket, pushed up against the gate.

  His eyes bulged as he tried to reach for my neck but he was no match for my supernatural strength. His arms swung helplessly. When I saw his face turn purple, I realized I was holding him off the ground and maybe choking off his air supply. I set him down and let go. I even straightened his collar, feeling a little bad but not too bad.

  “What the—?” he sputtered. “You crazy fuc—”

  I raised an eyebrow and he shut up.

  “Listen here,” I said. “Scarlett is waiting for you.”

  “I know, man. Why do you think I’m—”

  “Be her friend,” I cut him off. “And don’t you dare hurt her.”

  He stared.

  “Okay?” I said.

  He nodded.

  “I mean it.”

  He nodded again.

  “She’s the only thing I care about,” I said. “In this whole world.”

  When I reached out, he ducked. “Take it easy,” I said, pushing open the gate. He was almost to the door when I called out to him. “Henry?”

  “Yeah?” he turned around.

  “You never saw me, I was never here. Don’t even so much as mention my name to Scarlett. Or you’ll be sorry.”

  He gaped at me and I decided it was time to go. Before I changed my mind.

  With my hands in my pockets, I headed down the empty street.

  * * *

  Erin waited for me on the steps of my building. “You’re late,” she glared. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t think so either.” I unlocked the door.

  When we crossed the threshold, we stepped into darkness. Only a dim light slanted through the windows from the street.

  “Can you turn on a light?” Erin asked.

  “No electricity.”

  She pulled a phone from the back pocket of her jeans and shined a flashlight around the marble foyer. A stained glass window glimmered. “We’ll have to hurry,” she sounded impatient. “Clock’s ticking.”

  In a sudden flash it hit me—I’m leaving. And I might never return. Unless…

  Who said I had to go? Who died and made Erin queen?

  Scarlett had begged me to stay.

  I thought about how in the movies and on TV people flitted in and out of dimensions like it was nothing. But it was a big deal. It was a wild unknown, a leap of faith with possibly disastrous results.

  A wave of nausea came over me. I felt empty and hungry, downright feverish. Erin heaved an impatient sigh. “Are you getting weak?” her tone was accusing.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to attack you. Okay? You’re not my type. Seriously, just open the portal and push me through it.”

  She walked toward me with a determined expression. More of a grimace really, like there was a gun to her back. When we were only inches apart, she tilted up her face.

  “What are you doing?” I said.

  “Kiss me.”

  “What?”

  “I bet you’re very good at it. Go on. Pretend I’m one of your victims and shove your tongue down my throat.” She closed her eyes.

  “Jesus, Erin.”

  She would do anything to get rid of me.

  “I don’t kiss humans,” I said.

  Her eyes opened. “You don’t?”

  I’d kissed Scarlett. Devoured her. “As a general rule,” I said. Honestly, Erin was the first person I’d met in a long time who was as cocky as I was. Maybe I’d met my match but I didn’t like it.

  “You know you can’t turn a human into a vampire with just a kiss?” she said.

  “I’m not so sure about that,” I told her. Kissing had raised me from the dead. “Did it ever occur to you I’m the one undead here?” By her own admission, Erin was far from a scholar on the intricacies of my particular undead situation.

  “You have to know how to turn a human, Devon. It requires intent. And skill.”

  “Well, okay then. What are we waiting for?” She’d really got on my last nerve and I was ready to teach her a lesson.

  I backed her against the wall and kissed her, wrapping my hands in her hair. I felt her weaken. She grabbed my shirt. Her pulse raced in my veins. She was starting to panic. Like a dam breaking, her fear burst out and washed over me.

  I was in. Her barriers were down. She’d underestimated my power, and now it was too late.

  I held her tighter.

  She balled her hands into fists and beat my chest.

  This had never happened before. I’d never been resisted. But I couldn't stop, not now, not when I was tasting the first sweet secrets of Erin’s soul. I tasted her terror. It filled me.

  Three times she hit me, each time weaker, until finally I felt the last of her resistance go out of her. I felt her yield.

  Her hands snaked around me, her mouth opened wider. Her legs buckled and quivered. I swallowed her essence. Her hands were under my shirt, pulling me in, willing me to use her, to ravage her.

  She was mine.

  I had to hold her up.

  When she could stand, I let her go, and smiled.

  She stumbled away, no different than any other victim. She was still open, still susceptible. Her confusion flowed warm inside me. She fumbled for her phone with shaky ha
nds. There was a flush on her neck.

  I led her down the rickety stairs to the basement and felt her sudden lack of confidence, her fright. Her phone light bobbed wildly against the stone wall.

  We entered a wine cellar where a few dusty bottles still hid. “Victorian vintage,” I said. “Want one for the road?”

  She didn’t answer. Her heart beat into mine.

  “This way,” I said.

  We passed between walls of stacked crates. I lifted a trap door.

  About twenty feet down was the tunnel that went all the way across town underground. In the mid-1800s it had been its own thriving decadent city, complete with saloons, whore houses, opium dens and conveniently located jails. If there were ghosts, they were here.

  I jumped down and landed silently. I looked up at Erin peering over the edge. “Ready?” I said. “I’ll catch you.”

  She hesitated. I watched her position herself at the opening. “We don’t have all night,” I said.

  “Shut up,” she was downright vicious. “Monster,” she whispered, like I couldn’t hear.

  I opened my arms and wiggled my fingers. When her gaze met mine, I winked.

  “God, I hate you,” she muttered.

  As I watched, she summoned a reserve of strength. She closed her eyes. Her walls came up. I could no longer hear her frail human pulse. She’d done in minutes what would take most people days.

  She fell into my outstretched arms and I held her tightly. I’d have to carry her, since we were running out of time and I could travel faster than a speeding bullet.

  There was no light at that speed, just a roaring in your ears, the rush of cold air on your skin. When we neared the end of the tunnel, I slowed, and the world sharpened into focus once again. We’d come past the boardwalk, all the way to the east end of town, where the desert began. We were directly below Coffeen Sanitarium.

  Erin had gone limp. I gave her a little shake. “Erin?”

  Her eyes opened.

  “You okay?” I said.

  She blinked and struggled, pushing against me. I set her gently on her feet. She wobbled. I caught her wrist. Her face was ashen. I turned over her hand to look at her watch. Nine minutes before midnight. We were cutting it close.

  She jerked away. I watched her gather energy, as if from the air. It sparked around her.

  I put my hands in my pockets and my fingers brushed my key. “Hey, Erin,” I said. “Catch,” I tossed her the key and she snatched it from the air, her reflexes quicker than I’d realized.

  “What’s it for?” she said, her tone crisp.

  I could tell she was still angry about the kiss. I’d gone too far.

  “To the building,” I said. “I guess I won’t need it. Where I’m going.” Straight to hell.

  She pocketed the key and brushed past me, aiming her light.

  I followed her with my gaze. You can disappear, Devon. Right now. Before it’s too late.

  She walked softly, her footsteps whispering on the stone floor. Like a wolf, I licked my lips and thought of how sweet she’d tasted in the height of her fear, and how exhilarated I felt when she succumbed to my power.

  I tried to think of Scarlett, to remember how close I’d come to killing her.

  If you stay here Devon, you will kill everything you love.

  But my eyes stayed fixed on Erin. I moved up behind her, silently, intently. She stopped, unaware, shining her light at the wall. I breathed in her scent. Lust burned through my blood.

  She whirled around. Her mouth opened, her phone clattered on the floor.

  “Monster,” she’d called me.

  Monster…

  I remembered Scarlett’s pale skin, her listless body. With a shudder, I broke from Erin’s frightened stare and the spell of my own darkness.

  There was a dull ache behind my eyes. I picked up the phone. When I gave it to Erin, I saw the skull and cross-bones on the wall above her. I’d seen such skulls depicted in her books. It wasn’t a painting though. It was real. Human.

  She reached up and touched it. Dried rose petals fell from the eye sockets.

  A gasp cut the air. Mine or Erin’s. Or the skull’s.

  She turned. “It’s time, Devon.”

  * * *

  We knelt on the hard floor, facing each other, holding hands. There was no light. Though I saw clear as day, Erin couldn’t. “Don’t you need candles or something?” I said.

  “It’s not the movies. I won’t be waving incense and dancing around.”

  “Right,” I said.

  She bowed her head, as if in prayer.

  I heard it then, a distant humming. The sound was far away, maybe even in my imagination. Erin’s hands were clammy. No, mine were.

  “Will I still be the same?” I asked. “When I get there?”

  Her fingers twitched. “I don’t know, Devon. I’m sorry. I wish I did.”

  In that moment, I hated her. She didn’t care what happened to me. She just wanted me as far away as possible. And yet I didn’t let go of her hands. I gripped them tighter.

  In this world, I was wrong. My bones ached. My soul, if I had one, was torn. It was time to go and I knew it.

  Silence engulfed us.

  Then Erin began to chant incomprehensible words.

  The earth trembled.

  My head throbbed, ready to crack open, like an egg.

  Erin talked faster and faster.

  The skull fell from the wall and shattered. Jones petals and bone fragments rushed up into a dark cloud. The scent of decay filled my nostrils.

  Wind picked up and gathered force. It whipped at Erin’s hair. Her whole body shook but she never stopped chanting.

  As suddenly as it came, the wind ceased.

  Light filled the tunnel, so bright, it seared my eyes.

  Pain struck at my chest, my limbs, every inch of my flesh. My body arched against it.

  Darkness enveloped us again.

  Erin’s fingers were still entwined with mine, though I could no longer see her, as if I had gone blind. I was afraid I would crush the tiny bones in her hands but I couldn’t let go.

  We were bound together.

  Dear God, was this how it ended?

  A crack of lightning splintered the dark.

  Needles of ice pierced my skin.

  Erin’s relentless chants got more and more distant and then we were spinning… around and around.

  I became aware of screaming. “Go, Devon.” It was Erin. “Let go.”

  I felt her hands break from mine.

  NINETEEN

  Scarlett

  “How are you feeling, Scarlett?”

  “Better.”

  “Any dizziness with the new medication?”

  “I’m just a little tired.”

  “The drowsiness will go away eventually. Are you still having trouble sleeping at night?”

  “Sometimes it takes a while to fall asleep but I go to bed at ten like I’m supposed to.” I looked past Dr. Sinclair out the window. Her office was on the top floor and the sky was bullet gray. There was no skyline. I felt like I could step off the ledge and float away into infinity.

  “What are you thinking, Scarlett?”

  “Oh… nothing.”

  Dr. Sinclair was young and pretty. Her auburn hair fell to her shoulders and she wore incredible office suits; dusky pastel pencil skirts, polka dot blouses with long silk ties that looped around her neck. Her voice was clear, like a bell chiming through the fog. My old therapist and the only one I’d ever known, Dr. Ess, had referred me to her, since he was retiring.

  I liked Dr. Sinclair. I felt calmed in her presence. She inspired me to be a better person. I wanted to be just like her, to tell you the truth.

  “Are you still on probation at work?” she toyed with a pen and my eyes were drawn to her nails; perfectly manicured, not too long, or too short. I wanted to hide my bitten down nubs and chipped polish so I folded my hands in my lap.

  The medication helped me hold still. I no long
er counted in my mind. I no longer believed in lucky numbers. Well, not really. Occasionally, I found myself counting but I always stopped when I realized what I was doing. Old habits die hard.

  “I’ll probably be on probation forever. My boss hates me,” I said.

  “We talked about this last time.”

  I sighed. “Right. What other people think of me is none of my business.”

  She smiled. “Do you remember what else we talked about?”

  My gaze shifted to the circle of diamonds on her ring finger. What would it be like to be so perfect?

  I glanced down at my black dress, a vintage Chanel. Today it looked every bit the vintage part. I had a lot of black clothes. I should get rid of them and wear more pastels.

  “Scarlett? You seem distracted today. Will you tell me what you’re thinking?”

  “I remember what we talked about. You said I can have a full recovery. And I’m not my mother.”

  “It doesn’t sound as if you believe it.”

  “I don’t know. Life is just—it seems so hard. How do people do it? I guess… well, I guess you’re right. I don’t believe I’ll ever be normal. I have to be medicated to sleep at night, like a normal person. That’s just one tiny normal thing and I can barely do it.”

  “What do you mean by normal?”

  “You know.”

  “I’m not sure that I do, Scarlett.”

  “Like you. You’re normal.”

  “Am I? What makes me so?”

  “Look, Dr. Sinclair. I don’t mean to be rude but I’m a teacher. I know how this game works where you ask a bunch of questions and pretend you don’t know the answers.”

  She laughed. “I’m not a teacher, Scarlett. I don’t know what you think it means to be normal.”

  Wasn’t this session nearly over? I checked my watch, which of course, thanks to Dr. Sinclair, wasn’t on my wrist. “Maybe I would feel more normal,” I said. “If I could wear a watch.”

  “No one said you couldn’t.”

  “Well, you acted like it was a mortal sin.”