Vampire Night

by Alice Bell

  I moaned.

  “Oh, look at her,” Inka said. She had a low voice, almost masculine.

  “I think we should shave her bald,” Zadie said. “Fix her up for Devon.” She cackled.

  Their footsteps crossed the floor. My fingers curled around the sheets.

  Wake up, Scarlett. Wake up now.

  The comforter was lifted back. Cold air rushed over my skin.

  “Shit, Inka! Come look at this.”

  “What now?” Inka said. “Oh, I see. How sweet. Someone gave her a present. Ugly jewelry.”

  “Is that tape?” Zadie said.

  Once more, I tried to open my eyes. I saw a blur of color and movement.

  “Ouch. Damn. Her crystal is hot as an electric fence,” Zadie said.

  “Are you sure? Touch it again.”

  “You touch it.”

  Someone snapped their fingers. “Wake up, Scarlett. Hello there… rise and shine.”

  My lids lifted. Zadie’s face came into focus. And then Inka’s. They peered down at me, curiously, as if I were a new baby.

  It was no dream.

  I reached up and covered my amulet with the palm of my hand. I felt my heart beating. I wished I knew prayers. Dear God, please help me.

  “Darling, you simply must lose the necklace,” Inka said. “It isn’t you.”

  Zadie chuckled.

  “You will not leave your room, young lady, until you take off that disgusting chunk of rock. Think about it. No food. No drink. Perhaps, we will turn off the heat too.”

  “Oh, and the lights,” Zadie said. “We’ll cut her power. Sensory deprivation. She’ll go insane.”

  Go insane… insane…

  When they left the room, I strained to listen. They talked and argued. Zadie wanted another vodka martini. “Scarlett is a weak thing,” Inka said. “It won’t take long to break her.”

  They put on a record. Music drowned their voices. I had to get away.

  I went to the window and pulled back the curtain. Dawn burgeoned on the horizon. The sky was gray, tinged with pink. I was seven stories high. Vertigo swept over me.

  I turned from the window to scan the room in the dim light. I found my boots. I put them on without socks. For once, no clothes had been left on the floor. I couldn’t take time to rummage in my closet, so I had nothing to throw over my nightgown.

  I slid open the window, as quietly as I could, and stepped out onto the fire escape.

  Goosebumps rose on my arms in the cool air. Holding the metal railing, I began to make my way down. The steps were solid beneath my feet, my last grasp on reality.

  “Scarlett! Oh, Scarlett…” the voice was the sing-song taunt of my doom. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Against my better judgement, I glanced back. Zadie leaned from the window.

  I gasped. Terror gripped me.

  I teetered, before taking the stairs two at a time. My steps clanged. I pushed on, seeing only the metal rungs beneath my feet.

  When the fire escape jerked, I fell, grasping at the railing.

  I stared down into the lamp-lit alley. The escape bridge stopped at the second floor. Inka hung from the metal rungs, her legs swinging, as she caused the ladder to jerk again. And again.

  I sank down on the stair, clinging to the railing.

  Voices filled my head, until I felt I was tumbling down, spinning out of the world and into darkness…

  “Come on up, little rabbit,” Zadie called. “Before you fall to your death.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Scarlett

  “Come here, Scarlett,” he said.

  I stood in front of him. I couldn’t see his face. He was too tall, and something blocked the light. His face was blacked out, like a doctored photograph.

  I reached up to touch his chest. His skin was smooth, almost burnished. My hand moved over the taut muscles on his stomach. I sucked in my breath.

  He grabbed the front of my bodice and yanked. Cool air rushed over my skin. He laughed. A giddy feeling rose up inside me. “Now these,” he slipped a finger inside my panties. The sound of tearing cut the air.

  He carried me to the bed.

  I became aware of small details, the dampness on the sheets, the salty taste of his skin, my own slick sweat, the slow hard beat of his heart.

  I stopped breathing.

  His open mouth was on my throat. I felt his teeth scrape my skin. And then he was inside me. His breath deepened. There was only his movement, his breath in my ear, the slow, sweet friction, sweat pooling between my breasts.

  My body went slack.

  His hair was on my lips, filling my mouth and I saw a red glow outside the window, as the sun fell low in the sky.

  Devon

  I came to on a white sand beach under a black velvet sky studded with stars. The moon was almost full and it cast a pale light that lit the rolling waves.

  I was so cold. No one was around, which was lucky for me since I was stark raving naked. As soon as I got to my feet, nausea struck. I swayed for a moment, before lifting my face to the moon. The effect was immediate, like being warmed by the sun. I stretched to my full height and lifted my arms, feeling my powers awakening. As soon the sickness was gone, my thoughts turned to finding a warm body and feeding in the usual way. But I wouldn’t. I’d made a pact with myself and vowed not to, in exchange for Scarlett.

  I recognized the thicket of trees. I was on the same beach where I’d been with Zadie for the last time. Through the trees was the path to a set of rustic casas and the tiki bar. It was the same path where monkeys had thrown acorns at us. A process of elimination—who else?—told me Zadie had turned me. And yet, my intuition fought against that theory. I just couldn’t reconcile Zadie with the woman who’d kissed me on this very beach.

  But thinking of Zadie was draining, I realized, and I pushed all thoughts of her away, and opened my palms to the light of the moon.

  Soon I was making my way to the casas, taking the road less traveled, obviously, which wasn’t a road at all. I slid around the trees, staying hidden. I didn’t want to waste energy by becoming invisible but I would if I encountered anyone.

  As was the custom at this beach, clothes had been left out to dry, slung over the railings of porches and hung from crude clotheslines. No one appeared to be around and when I honed in I could hear music coming from the bar. Most of the people staying here were likely there. The bar was not only a place to socialize and drink, it provided breakfast lunch and dinner, as well as needed services.

  From my hidden vantage point in the trees, I picked out what to wear from a clothes line—Bermuda shorts and a comfy looking old tee. They looked like they would fit and when I put them on, they did. I slipped into a pair of flip-flops left out on a porch and I was on my way.

  In town, I checked the date on the newspaper. I’d been gone almost three months. Damn. I was in a hurry to get back to Scarlett because I wasn’t sure I trusted old Henry West. I had to see her, make sure she was okay. And I wondered if the pill I’d given her had worked. Had she completely forgotten me? If my memory would drive her to madness, like Erin Jones believed, well, I guessed that was for the best.

  Speaking of the intrepid psychic, I had a few things to say to her. But I supposed I wasn’t angry at her, or even resentful, anymore. I mean, she did save Scarlett from me. And if she hadn’t sent me to the realm, I wouldn’t be here now, on my way back to Scarlett, a changed man… or Vampire, as they call us.

  I made haste on my way north, travelling at superhuman speeds when able, taking boats and busses for some of the journey. I stayed strong, stealing tiny bits of energy from crowds, so as not to drain one person.

  Angel soldiers had raided Queenstown when I found it. The bar, Babylon, where Vampires made connections, was burned to the ground. A statue of Yshtan, the goddess of sex and war, had fallen on her face in the ashes. Her small wings pointed at the trembling sky.

  Only a day later, I crossed into Oregon from California. Standing next
to the Pacific ocean, listening to the giant waves crash to shore, I closed my eyes and transported myself straight to Scarlett’s Victorian mansion. I landed right outside her gate.

  I noticed the change right away. Scarlett’s yard had been manicured. Roses bloomed. A rope swing hung from the arm of one of the old Oak trees and there was a trampoline.

  Scarlett doesn’t live here anymore.

  Where was she? A heavy feeling weighed down on my shoulders as I headed for China Town and the 24-hour café.

  The communal computer was available, as it usually was since most people had their own devices. When I sat down, I glanced at the newspaper left folded open to the arts page. I grabbed it, scanning down to the obituaries, making sure I didn’t see Scarlett’s name. Imagine my shock when I did find a familiar name. Erin Jones. The fuck?

  “Erin Jane Jones, age 41, passed away in her home on May 9th.”

  Oh, Erin, I thought. I’m so sorry.

  Born the daughter of Elizabeth Jane Reynolds and Edward Jones, Erin lived her life in service to others by using her gifts as an empath and channel. She once said her path was not an easy one, but the right one. Her favorite saying was ‘the universe unfolds as it should.’ She is preceded in death by her father, Ed, and survived by her mother, Beth, her daughter, Autumn, and the many people who knew and loved her…

  I threw down the paper and hurriedly googled Scarlett. She came up on the second page and I was able to decode the site that offered her personal information in exchange for a credit card number. Evil assholes. When I saw her new address, my stomach dropped. She lived directly across from my old building, the building where Erin Jones had met her death.

  I rushed out into the street, dread churning inside me. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Something was very wrong. Irving was the next block over and I was there in a flash.

  From the sidewalk, I gazed up to the seventh floor window of Scarlett’s apartment. Light spilled from its windows, a cheery sight. Relief flooded over me. For a split second, before I realized the curtains were wide open. The Scarlett I knew kept her curtains drawn.

  I saw movement through the window and cocked my head, honing in to hear what was going on inside. Their voices came to me—female… arguing.

  One voice pricked the back of my neck. Was it—could it be?

  Zadie?

  I’d know Zadie’s voice anywhere. I’d crossed half a continent believing her dead, thinking our fates were separate, after all. Some part of me even envied her, as I’d imagined her succumbing to the dark waters of Lake Nicaragua, her body lost to the fishes, her soul free.

  But she was here?

  I leaped the stairs, taking each flight in a single bound, arriving in a dimly lit corridor with a green and gold rug over the polished floor. It was so hushed, so insular in its opulence, I became disoriented. I had the strangest feeling I’d fantasized not only Zadie’s voice but everything in my life, up until this moment.

  Just as I reached for it, the door of Scarlett’s apartment swung open.

  Cold rushed into the hallway. I stared, riveted. For so long, I’d wondered what it would be like to encounter my own kind in the human world and the woman who stood in front of me was a Vampire. In her dark eyes, I saw the vast emptiness of years of immortality.

  Time stood still.

  This Vampire knew me. I felt it in my bones, along with a kind of dread, the same dread I’d had in Nicaragua, the night Zadie disappeared.

  She came forward, reaching for me. I stepped away from her touch.

  “Hello, Devon,” she said.

  Hello, Devon?

  She kept her hand out and it happened in slow motion, my hand clasping hers. She squeezed hard. I squeezed back. Her eyes glittered. “My name is Inka. I’m your sire.”

  I gasped and tried to let go of her hand, but she held on, her long nails digging into my flesh. She said, “I told Zadie you would come.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Zadie

  Zadie stood in the hallway where she had ducked out of sight behind the kitchen. Dizziness swept over her. She closed her eyes, leaning against the wall. She clasped her hands together in fervent prayer. Please, please… Yshtan, do not disappoint me again.

  She strained to hear what was happening outside in the corridor but there was a long terrible silence.

  She tried to remember Devon’s face, his dark eyes that could be so caring and loving. Say something, she willed to Inka. Make him speak, so I know it’s him.

  In the stretch of quiet, Zadie’s gut coiled. It was only a span of seconds but to her it felt like forever. A horrible thought had occurred to her. What if Devon was scarred? Maybe the process had gone wrong when Inka turned him so hurriedly, with the Angels descending. And Inka had run away too, leaving Devon all alone. What kind of creature did she leave in her wake?

  With a cry, Zadie burst into the foyer, pushing past Inka.

  There he was. Her first love. Her eternal love.

  Tears stung her eyes. “Devon?”

  His smile came slowly, before lighting his beautiful, unmarred face. She fell into his arms. To her relief, he pulled her against him. “Oh, God,” he whispered in her hair. “Zadie…”

  She was vaguely aware of Inka retreating. The door closed softly.

  Devon tilted Zadie’s face to look into her eyes, before crushing her mouth with his. Their tongues collided. Years of longing surged up inside Zadie. She pushed Devon against the wall.

  He grabbed a fist of her hair, and then his lips were on her neck. His sharp teeth scraped her skin, causing her to moan. Her hands went under his shirt. Oh, the feel of him, at long last.

  Devon

  I sought her mouth, and bit her lip in surprise. Blood gushed. I tasted it. I was so caught up in how we used to be, it came as a shock to realize Zadie was different. She was no longer my Zadie.

  She reeled back and put her hand to her lip. When she took her hand away, the blood was gone, as if it had never been.

  “Why’d you do that?” she said.

  I touched my own lip where a single drop of blood wet my finger. “Zadie… I didn’t know. You’re a Vampire.” What a lie, I realized. I must have known all along, I just didn’t want to believe.

  She made a sound in the back of her throat.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  She stared. Confusion and disbelief darkened the exotic gold of her eyes.

  “I had hoped—” I bit off my words.

  I’d hoped against hope Zadie was dead, instead of undead. But I couldn’t tell her how sad it made me, and how angry. The two opposing feelings roiled in the pit of my stomach. She must have chosen to become a Vampire. And she had chosen the same fate for me.

  Why? So we could live forever as monsters?

  A sudden scream pierced the air. It was a primal sound, like a jaguar in the jungle. It was Zadie, flying at me, pummeling my chest with her fists. It reminded me of the night I kissed Erin, how she’d beat at me too.

  They killed her, I thought. They killed Erin.

  Knuckles grazed my cheek. I caught Zadie’s arm, and wrestled with her, until I pinned her to the wall by her throat. “Where is Scarlett?” I growled.

  Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Scarlett? Scarlett who?”

  “If you fucking hurt a hair on her head, I will kill you, understand? You will be dust.” When I let go of her, she spit in my face.

  I reeled back. “Damn you.”

  The door swung open. “That’s enough,” Inka said.

  But Zadie took one more shot, lunging at me. My elbow shot out. She dodged it.

  “Get inside. Both of you. Now.” Inka pointed to the door with a blood-red talon.

  I stared as Zadie obeyed, her shoulders hunched forward, as if she were a scolded child.

  * * *

  The apartment was trashed. Empty champagne bottles covered a granite counter, and record jackets lay strewn across the floor. A vinyl record had been smashed to pieces. Clothes littered the furniture; lac
y negligees, black dresses, sweaters; all too small to fit Zadie or Inka.

  My mind veered over the possibilities. Did Scarlett have a meltdown? Maybe she wasn’t even here. I prayed she was in a hospital somewhere. At least she might be safer in the psych ward. Unfortunately, I feared she was here… somewhere.

  My eyes sought a hallway, leading to a shut door. I strained to detect Scarlett’s heartbeat. Inka broke my concentration. “Scarlett is alive, Devon,” she said, quietly. “We have saved her for you.”

  Jesus. My fingers curled into fists. “What are you doing to her?”

  Zadie startled me by suddenly wailing. “See?” she cried. “Oh my god. He’s here for her… not me.” She stomped around in a circle, pulling at her hair, sniveling, like a toddler. I gawked, transfixed and repulsed.

  Inka cast a glance at me, raising her eyebrow, like we were co-conspirators. I knew I had to pretend that was the case but it made my skin crawl.

  “Devon,” Inka said, in her sultry voice. “Poor Zadie. Tell her that’s not true.”

  I took a deep breath. “Zadie… I’ve been looking for you. For so long.”

  Her pout disappeared. “You promise?”

  “Of course. What did you think?” At least I wasn’t lying, in this instance.

  She took my hand and kissed my palm.

  “There,” Inka clapped. “See? All’s well that ends well.” She turned to me. “Have you fed, Devon?”

  I was full of the moon’s rays but I said, “No. Not yet.” Let them think I was weak, if they could be so easily fooled. No need to show my cards.

  When Inka’s gaze skimmed over me and landed on Zadie, I took a quick peek into the kitchen. I scanned the shelves and counters for anything useful. I made note of the wine rack.

  “Shall we show him?” Inka said to Zadie, who glanced at me.

  “Perhaps he can help us,” Inka coaxed. “I think you should take Devon to Scarlett now, Zadie.”