Re-Vamping Las Vegas

by Jen Pretty

  “Your friend Matthew has been troublesome,” his voice was closer now. Right above me. “He's powerful and old. I didn’t think anyone but your mother would want you back.” Now he sounded scared. Matthew had Las Vegas on the other side of the country, what he would want with Baltimore?

  “I'll be back in a few years. Seeing you like this is upsetting. Perhaps by then, the city will be under control and Matthew will have given up.”

  I wanted to laugh. A few years. What’s a few years when you lived for centuries or millennia. My body wouldn’t get any weaker now. I was at the lowest a vampire could get. As long as no one staked me I would go on indefinitely.

  And so I did.

  Locked in my tomb. I counted heartbeats and imagined the lights of Las Vegas. The city that never sleeps. Sin City.

  I remembered Matthew’s soft blue eyes but tried not to think about blood or nightclubs. I thought of Matthew behind his desk, watching me with appraising eyes. The smile on his face the last time I saw him. It wasn’t a smile for me, it was for a blonde woman, but he was so beautiful when he smiled.

  —

  “Nia.” It was Matthew's voice.

  “I’m down here!” I screamed.

  “Nia, where are you?”

  “I’m down here, trapped in this cell!” I banged on the bars.

  “Are you down there, Nia?” The voice faded away.

  “Please! I’m down here. Don’t go!”

  —

  Drip.

  What a cruel dream.

  I was dead, for all intents and purposes, but I was not really dead because I still dreamed. I still heard the metronome of my existence. Drip.

  My mind replayed my mother's soft voice, singing a beautiful French opera. I could smell her candy scent and see her loving eyes in my mind.

  —

  “Come sing with me, Lavinia,” my mother said. The sun came in through the window in the parlour. Father was drinking a glass of wine and reading a book. Half listening to mother sing.

  “You know I don’t like to sing, Mother,” I said, sitting beside her at the piano.

  “But you have such a beautiful voice. Let me hear you sing,” she begged.

  “All right,” I sighed.

  I sang her several of the songs she had taught me, in French. She smiled the whole time and clapped her hands after each song before begging for one more. She was an angel.

  —

  I controlled my mind and tried not to let it stray to my father when I was awake. He knew where I was, but still, I lay here, in this prison that my body had become. Matthew knew too. Baltimore. But when I fell asleep, my dreams would haunt me.

  —

  I walked into the parlour where my father was reading the newspaper, dressed in his finest clothes and my mother was fussing over a bouquet.

  “Lavinia, why are you not dressed?” my father asked. He expected me in a white dress, my hair pinned and veil lowered. Ready to make a union of his design. Instead, I wore loose-fitting navy blue pants and a form-fitting shirt. The style worked for my figure and my temperament.

  It was the 1940s now. We were in America during the Second World War. Women were taking their lives as their own and no longer living to serve men. My father didn’t care for the decade or the direction it was taking.

  “I don’t want to marry him, father.”

  “I don’t care what you want. You will be an ideal pair. Powerful enough to take over some day,” His ire was growing, but I didn’t care. My mother's worried face wouldn’t stop the road I was travelling down this time. I had grown too large to fit in the small box my father wanted to keep me in. My heart longed to escape the oppression and my mind finally gave me the way.

  “I don’t want to take over and the vampire is cruel. He is not who I would want to spend my life with. He is cowardly and foolish,” I said.

  My father’s hand struck out so fast, I didn’t see it coming. I hit the far wall with a crunch and slid to the floor.

  “Oh no!” my mother cried, but she did not rush to my side like she did when I fell off my pony. I had put her in between my father and me all these years. Her heart didn’t know what to do when he and I fought. The time had come for me to make the choice for her.

  I righted myself and popped my shoulder back into the socket. I looked at my father with the broken jaw he had given me and pulled the bone back into place with a crunch. Anger infused my veins and gave me a backbone that day. I gathered a few of my things and walked out the front door to the sound of my mother crying.

  My father didn’t look up from his newspaper.

  —

  I supposed Baltimore was a big place. Drip. 3,645, 292.

  If my father was looking for me, he might have trouble finding me in a big city. Not that I thought he was looking for me. Besides, if he found me, he might just tuck me away like this for safe keeping too. Drip. 3,645,293.

  There was a yell. Or maybe my mind made it up. I thought of Matthew’s soft blue eyes for the thousandth time or maybe the millionth time. Who was counting? His soft blue eyes though. So warm and hungry.

  “This way,” Matthew's voice said.

  I didn’t remember him saying that. Maybe when he led me to his office one time.

  “She is down here somewhere. Find her!” he yelled.

  I didn’t remember him saying that before either. My memory was slipping.

  “Holy shit, what is that?”

  That sounded like Thor. Was I still dreaming?

  The sound of the jail cell door sliding open lit on my ears. I dared not hope. I was sure it was a trick of my mind. I couldn’t let myself hope the door had opened. But the stomping of boots on cement drowned out the next drip.

  “Hello, Ren. Nia.” Matthew breathed. His voice was so close now, I wasn’t sure I could keep denying he was here. I didn’t want to give in to the mind tricks, but if he was really here…

  “Are you sure that’s her?” Thor asked.

  “Yes, it’s her. Let’s get her home,” Matthew said. I wanted to cry. I felt nothing, but Matthew said: “I’ve got you now.” Right in my ear. His lips couldn’t have been more than a few inches away. If I had the ability, I would have cried. I pleaded for my eyes to spring a tear. The pressure was so intense I could hardly take it.

  “I’ve staked Ryan and his guards. You know that means I’m the lord of freaking Baltimore now. I had no interest in Baltimore, Nia,” Matthew whispered in my ear. He continued talking close to me until he must have set me down. I heard him talking from a little further away. A car engine started.

  “I’m going to pick up some blood for you, Nia. I don’t think you are in any condition to hunt today. I have the heat on full. You will be fine soon.” The car engine roared.

  We were moving away from my prison. I let myself believe it even though I couldn’t be sure. If this was an elaborate dream, I wanted to stay in it forever.

  “I’ll be right back,” Matthew said as the engine died. “Thor is here, Nia. He will guard you.” A door opened and closed and then it was silent again for a minute.

  “He damn near burned the city to the ground for you, little vampire girl,” Thor’s voice was gravelly. “Don’t make me regret helping him. You broke his heart once, I won’t see it broken again.”

  The words were hushed, but they reached my ears. It was possibly the most the vampire security guard had ever spoken in my presence. His words sunk into me and I toyed with them until I heard the car door open again.

  “Let’s get her somewhere safe first. I got her six pints. Hopefully, that will be enough to bring her back.” His voice carried to my ears as though he were looking at me. I felt self-conscious now. I had never seen a vampire emaciated in person, but I had seen photos. I imagined my face sunken, lips pulled back, baring my incisors like a rabid dog.

  The sound of the tires on the pavement lulled me and I dozed off and on. When the car stopped again, I heard the door open closest to me.

  “All right, Nia. Le
t’s get you back, huh?” Matthew said, his voice close to my ear again. I assumed he was carrying me, and I wanted to feel his arms around me. I flashed back to the night at the club when he danced with me. When he held me, his lips at my ear as he quoted Hamlet, of all things.

  It clicked together. I knew what he meant that night. I was so stupid.

  “Here you go, Nia.”

  I felt my tongue first. It stung with sensation. My throat burned like I was drinking fire. My jaw moved for the first time in a long time with a pop and I chocked on the blood.

  “You’re ok, Nia. Give it a minute.” My teeth clicked several times of their own free will. Like a set of wind up teeth on a table top. Click. Click. click. Then they latched onto a blood bag. And my throat pulled hard, dragging the thick blood into my shriveled stomach. My face flushed and my eyes pricked as bloody tears rolled down towards my ears. I could feel I was lying on a bed now. My arm moved, and no chains clicked. I tried to move my arms deliberately towards my face, but instead, they flew up and connected with Matthew. Vision returned to one eye. Everything was blurry, but I tried to track Matthew as he avoided my arms swinging out of control.

  When he caught them, he tucked them in under the blanket. Then his weight settled beside me on the bed. Tears tickled my face as they soaked down into my hair. I blinked, and the universe came into focus.

  “There you are,” Matthew said, smiling down at me like an angel from heaven. I thought I wasn’t remembering his eyes properly in my dreams, but here, now, they were the exact colour of the summer sky; endless and vast. They twinkled at me as I soaked in his features. His beautiful lips pulled back in a smile wide enough to show his teeth.

  I blinked again.

  ‘You ready for more?” he asked.

  I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I tried again, but then another blood bag was in front of my mouth and I bit down. The moan that came from my throat was dry and sounded tortured even though the ecstasy made my eyes roll back in my head. I eagerly sucked the blood from the bag now though my stomach felt distended.

  When it was empty, my whole body began to shake, my teeth chattered, and I tried to move my legs. They were still up by my chest, but I felt a little give in my joints like they might move. I pushed my feet out and screamed as they straightened sending searing pain through my whole lower body. I thrashed and shook while Matthew held me down. More bloody tears ran down my face and I kept screaming until I lost my voice again and then I whimpered and moaned while Matthew smoothed my hair back from my face.

  “I’m sorry I took so long to get to you,” he whispered into the silence when the pain faded and I stopped writhing. “I promise I will never let you suffer like that again.”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn’t know what to say to him now that he was here, so I closed my mouth again and closed my eyes. Matthew moved off me and tucked in beside me, his body touching mine from foot to shoulder, but he was over the blanket. I realized I was under a heated blanket as the pain dissolved from my lower body and sensation returned. The heat was like a dream too. Hot and dry. I pulled one arm out from under the blanket and slid my fingers into Matthew’s hand where it rested on my hip.

  He squeezed my hand and held on tight while I drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “Nia, wake up.”

  “I don’t want to,” I muttered, pressing my face between the pillows.

  “Your voice has returned.”

  I sat bolt upright. Then rubbed my head which felt dizzy from the abrupt movement. It wasn’t a dream.

  “Uhm, hi.” Matthew stood at the end of the bed, chuckling.

  “I need a shower,” I said, catching the smell coming from me. It must have been disgusting, sitting so close to me.

  “I put some new clothes in there for you.”

  I pulled back the covers, my arms and legs working fairly well now, though I still felt cold as soon as I slid out from under the heated blanket. Stumbling to the bathroom, I flicked on the shower and glimpsed myself in the mirror. My hair was packed down and dirty. Blood stained my mouth and eyes making me look like a monster. Is that how humans felt as they grew old and their appearance changed? I turned away and stepped into the shower. The hot water was a balm to my frazzled nerves. I squirted a large amount of soap into my hand and tried to wash my hair. It took most of the bottle and a full bottle of conditioner before my hair felt clean. I scrubbed my skin with a loofa until it was red. They had left me to rot for what I calculated to be at least three years in a basement. What’s three years?

  I sank down in the shower and stayed there until the water ran cold. Then I gathered myself up and shut off the tap. I combed out my hair before I looked in the mirror again. Then, when I looked up, I saw Nia staring back at me. The same as she had always looked. Her eyes bright and hair smooth. She had a wide mouth and a small nose. She had a pair of sharp incisors. She needed to stop referring to herself in the third person.

  I slipped on the track pants and hoodie that Matthew had left for me. They were loose and comfortable. When I stepped back out into the hotel room, Matthew smiled at me. The room spun a bit, and I grabbed onto the bathroom door frame for support. In a second, he was by my side, his arm around my waist supporting me.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. Then I pulled away, standing on my own. “Can we go home?”

  “Yes, absolutely. I have a plane waiting to take you back to Belcrest. We can leave now if you like.”

  I bit my lip and nodded.

  Matthew picked up things and stuffed them into bags. He had brought little, but my dirty clothes went into a bag and then into a garbage pail.

  “How long was I in there?” I asked.

  “In the shower?” he asked, absentmindedly without turning.

  “No, not in the shower.”

  He stopped and sunk down on the bed. “Four years, three months and twenty-two days.”

  The air left my lungs. That was longer than I had expected.

  “Why didn’t my father come for me?” I asked and immediately regretted it. “Never mind.” I turned away and looked around the room. “Did I have shoes on?”

  “Nia,” Matthew said my name like a scold. I wasn’t a child anymore.

  “What?”

  “He’s not a good example of an old vampire.”

  I scoffed. “You don’t think I know my own father?”

  “I think he has tainted your vision of every vampire,” he breathed.

  “I would agree with you, but another one just let me starve in a basement for four years!”

  “And now he’s dead.”

  “I’m dead, too!” I shouted.

  “Not in the way that counts,” he said. His voice was calm. It frustrated me.

  I laughed unkindly. “What way counts, Matthew? That I am still moving around? How does that count?” I was provoking him and I couldn't stop myself.

  “Because if you were really dead, I wouldn’t have spent the last four years killing every vampire I got my hands on in bloody Baltimore!” Matthew returned.

  I hadn’t heard him yell before. It shocked me, snapping me out of my anger.

  “Well, I’m sorry to inconvenience you. Next time, I’ll try to die more thoroughly,” I turned on my heel and locked myself back in the bathroom.

  “That’s not what I meant, Nia,” he shouted through the closed door. I heard something hit the wall, and he swore.

  I sat on the floor in front of the counter and tried to calm down, knowing that wasn’t what he meant. Why was I like this?

  I got up and peeked out the door. Matthew was sitting on the end of the bed, his head in his hands. Why would he spend four years tracking me down? I stepped out of the bathroom and took a step closer to him. He didn’t move or look up.

  “I’m in love with you, Nia. I have been since the first day you walked into my office and called me on my patriarchal bullshit. Don't make me spend another day without you. I want you in Las Vegas, in
my casino. Please, Nia. Don’t run away from me.”

  “Why?”

  “I told you why,” he said.

  “No, you told me you love me and want me. Tell me why.”

  He looked up at me. His eyes brimmed red. “Because you are perfect. You are flawed and beautiful and amazing. You are sinner and saint. You are life and death. You are everything, Nia.”

  “I’m a mess, Matthew.”

  “Yes.”

  “I won’t stop being a mess. I’m not a broken doll you can fix.”

  “I know.”

  “Ok,” I said.

  “Ok, what?” Matthew stood up.

  “I will come back to Las Vegas with you. But I’m not willing to be some prize on your arm. I’ll just come to Vegas.”

  “Ok,” he smiled again and my knees almost crumbled. Matthew Merewin had somehow managed to get under my skin.

  We spent the rest of the day and into the night on a plane. Tracing our way back across the country. I slept most of the way, but every time I opened my eyes, Matthew was typing away with the glow of his laptop illuminating his features.

  He was a beautiful man. His strong jaw and regal nose were reminiscent of the Vikings of millennia ago. I wondered if he sailed across the seas and pillaged villages. How different his life is now, from those harsh times of kill or be killed.

  My mother used to tell me stories. She would try to explain my father. She loved the man I hated most. Her efforts were doomed to fail. But she came from a different time too. When she was young, you chose a man who was harsh because he could protect you and provide for you. A man who was gentle would never keep you or your children alive.

  I glanced up at Matthew again. He was gentle but also strong. ‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’ He was the thing. The ghost I had seen but hadn’t believed. Even the way he had said it was gentle.

  I unclipped my seatbelt and moved across the plane. Matthew looked up as I approached, but I kept walking until I was in front of him. I didn’t know what I was doing, but he put his laptop aside and pulled me into his lap.