The Fledgling

by Diana Vincent

to inhale deeply. “Score,” she hissed to the others, stopping by a particularly dismal gap between buildings.

  “We’ll stay here and watch,” Orion said with a hand on his son’s shoulder. Elizabeth handed Orion her shawl and handbag, and walked into the dimness.

  Marcus smelled the pungent scent of alcohol and rank odor of an unwashed human body even before his excellent night vision detected the presence of a human. He focused in on a man sleeping on his side halfway down the alley. His mother approached, singing in a melodious voice. The clicking of her high heels on the pavement added rhythmic percussion to her song. She wanted the man to wake and see her coming.

  “Wha..?” The man pushed himself up to a sitting position and watched the beautiful specter approaching. “You a angel?”

  “Are you lonely?” Elizabeth murmured in celestial tones. She stood over the man with her hands reaching out to him.

  He nodded, speechless and mesmerized by her ethereal beauty.

  Elizabeth squatted before him. She gently stroked his unshaven face with one hand and smoothed his tangled hair with the other. “Poor dear,” she murmured. The man’s bloodshot eyes fixed on her pale face, his mouth hanging open. Elizabeth leaned in and touched his dry, cracked lips with her own, placed both hands on his shoulders, and then went for the carotid.

  Entranced, Marcus stared, blinked, and it was over. His mother rejoined them, a trickle of blood running from the corner of her mouth down her chin.

  “Wow,” he whispered in awe. He smelled the blood on her breath and his insides contracted. He had not fed for a week, and he was starving. “That took almost no time at all.”

  “Well, son, the human body contains approximately five quarts of blood and the human heart can pump between three to six quarts of blood a minute, and double that when under stress. So, you see, it does not take long to drink most of a human’s blood supply,” Orion pontificated.

  “The poor man will suffer no more,” Elizabeth said, taking back her pashmina and purse, and withdrawing a silk hanky. “He left this world in probably the most beautiful moment of his depraved life.” She wiped the blood from her mouth and chin.

  “What will the police think when they find him?” Marcus asked.

  “One more drunk dead of too much alcohol and exposure,” Orion explained. “Your mother has obliterated the bite mark and there is no reason for them to do an autopsy, so they will never discover he has been exsanguinated. Now; my turn.”

  They proceeded down the empty streets. It was after midnight and the late night denizens of the neighborhood reveled inside the bars or patronized the open pawn shop, liquor store, and tattoo establishment. The only people they encountered outside were a couple grappling each other passionately in the shadows next to a noisy bar, and a man who wove haphazardly across the street in the opposite direction.

  Light spilled out into the street as a bar door opened. A man, perhaps in his thirties, staggered forth. Dirty brown hair fell to his eyes and covered his ears. A once white tee-shirt stretched over his bloated abdomen protruding from a filthy denim jacket. Dark patches of grease stained the thighs of his jeans.

  The man noticed the well-dressed young couple with a teenager approaching. Them diamonds is real, he told himself, and grinned, exposing a mouth with many gaps amid rotten teeth. Soft man, a woman, a kid…I can easily take them.

  “Meth user,” Orion whispered to Marcus. He sighed deeply. “Although our digestive enzymes will detoxify his blood, it still leaves a very unpleasant taste.”

  Marcus could smell the acrid, acidy scent of the methamphetamine in the man’s system. He wrinkled his nose.

  “However, he has his eye on us and I believe that will leave me no choice.”

  “Hey there,” the man called out in a slurred voice. “Com’in, I’ll buy y’all a drink.” He cackled.

  “That is very civil of you, sir,” Orion replied. “I know a better place down the street, and we’ll buy you a drink.”

  The man stumbled and shuffled up to join them, surprised at how easily they allowed him to position himself next to the woman with the man and boy on the other side of him. Stupid fools, he congratulated himself on this lucky chance meeting, casting sidelong glances at the diamond studded gold chain around the lady’s neck and the matching earrings, assessing whether to go for all. Maybe just the necklace. I can easily snag that and run. They’ll never catch me! He smiled to himself, the drug in his system impairing his already feeble judgment and lending him dauntless courage.

  At the corner, he feigned a misstep and fell against Elizabeth, his hand darting up to grab at her necklace. “Pard’n.” He tugged at the gold chain but suddenly her hand squeezed around his wrist with incredible strength for such a delicate looking woman. He felt hot breath waft over the side of his neck as the man came up behind him. How did he get there..? I never saw him move! It was his last thought, as Orion found the pulsing artery in his neck and sunk in his sharp fangs.

  “Foul,” Orion complained as he finished feeding, his lips pursed tightly in distaste. He let the body slide to the ground before he pulled an immaculate white linen handkerchief from his inside pocket and dabbed at the remnants of blood at the corners of his mouth (always a fastidious feeder).

  Marcus stood back, not wanting to get close to the rancid-smelling body. “What now?” he asked, trying to avoid too deep a breath.

  Orion and Elizabeth both looked around, sniffing the air and listening to the night. “The Hudson River, or…perfect,” Orion said. In one agile move, he scooped the body from the sidewalk and carried it to the middle of the right hand lane of the street where he dropped it. He pulled a small vial from his inside pocket and sprayed a fine mist over the prone, still figure, and then returned to the sidewalk to join his family. “Do you hear it?”

  “The car?” Marcus questioned.

  “Yes, approaching at about forty miles per hour, now about half a block away…” They moved into the shadow of a building to watch. “What do you think?” Orion continued to quiz his son.

  “About ten years old, probably an SUV, missing one cylinder,” Marcus described.

  An older model Dodge Caravan entered the intersection. The spray from Obscurity Formula Number Four had rendered the body nearly invisible. The driver never knew what it was he ran over, causing his van to jolt and then swerve violently into the next lane. He saw nothing in his rear-view mirror. Clutching the steering wheel with white knuckles, he took in several deep breaths to still his racing heart, and then accelerated away.

  “A hit-and-run is what the police will find,” Orion said.

  The smell of blood, even tainted blood, overwhelmed Marcus. He salivated from the corners of his mouth and in embarrassment, quickly wiped it away, hoping his parents wouldn’t notice (but well aware there was very little they missed).

  Elizabeth put an arm over her son’s shoulders and gave him an affectionate and encouraging squeeze. “Ready to hunt?” she asked.

  He swallowed and nodded. “What do I do?”

  “Wait,” Orion raised a finger and the three halted, tuning into the street with their senses.

  “What is it?” Marcus asked.

  Orion paused. He shifted his head, listening. He sniffed the air and evaluated the vibrations beneath his feet. “Why don’t you tell me?” he asked after a few minutes.

  Observing his parents, Marcus also paid attention to the approaching humans, and he was able to answer, “It’s the couple we passed earlier, the man and woman by that loud bar.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “The scents are identical and the vibrations of their footfalls match their body sizes. They are about a block away and approaching this direction.”

  “Very good; I believe you are correct.”

  “Should I choose one of them?” Marcus asked. His heart thumped forcefully, and he felt like each breath caught in his chest so that he had to consciously blow it out.

  “Marcus, that would be…”

  “Eliz
abeth,” Orion interrupted, “let Marcus give us his reasoning.”

  “Um…okay, the man is older than the girl, maybe by about fifteen to twenty years. He’s overweight and out of shape. The girl is in her twenties and slender, walks with a purposeful step – I bet she works out.”

  “Correct,” Orion encouraged.

  “I could easily knock one of them out; probably the man, and feed on the girl.”

  “Yes, you would be able to do so, but is that wise?”

  “Um…”

  “Don’t stutter over your words, Marcus,” Elizabeth said, correcting him reflexively out of habit.

  “I think…well, yeah, maybe not…I’d have to kill both…”

  “The capture and killing of prey is the easy part. Selecting a suitable food source is why you need training,” Orion said in a pedantic tone. “The scent of the man’s clothing should tell you it is a quality fabric, and he wears expensive aftershave. He is certainly well-off. The girl is also wearing quality clothing and expensive jewelry. She may be an upper class call girl, or simply having an affair with the man. Nevertheless, what do you think would happen if either one or both are found dead, or reported missing by their relatives?”

  “Uh…”

  “Marcus,” Elizabeth reprimanded again.

  “The police would spend a lot more time in an investigation of either of those two, than they will for the drunk in the alley or the meth addict.”

  “You are correct.”

  The couple emerged into view, rounding the corner of