“Uh-huh.” I tried again to gulp back my anxiety. Easy for you to say.
“Do you remember how you felt when those men attacked you?”
The mention of the men who attacked me sent my blood boiling. It was because of them that I was this thing. If they had never attacked me, I wouldn’t have to do this— hunt a human for their blood.
The attack was still fresh in my mind. Anger flared inside of me, as images of being kicked in the stomach and whipped with a belt flashed before my eyes.
“Yes,” I growled. “I remember.”
“Good. You’re angry. I can see it. Use that feeling, Alyssa. Use your anger. Do you want others to suffer the same injustice as you were subjected to? Do you want another person to have the same fate as you?”
“No. No one should have to go through that,” I said coldly. My mind was torn now between anxiety and anger.
“Good. Then use that to justify your hunting. I want you to seek out those that would do harm to others. Use yourself as bait. Attract them to you so they cannot hurt anyone else. Use your immortality to bring them to justice.”
Images of my attackers, those two horrible men, flashed before me again, and the anger inside of me cried out for vengeance. The monstrous voice in my head begged for blood.
Lysander smiled at me, as if he understood the battle going on inside my head: the anger and rage, mixed with fear.
“It is time,” he whispered, leaning in close so our eyes met. “You can do this.” He had such strength in his eyes; I felt I could do anything he asked, as long as I was looking into them.
Lysander exited the car. I did the same. The warm night air greeted me as I opened the door. I followed behind him, heading for the elevators.
My stomach knotted with anxiety and anger. I was soon going to find out what I was really capable of.
We remained quiet in the elevator down to the casino floor. When the doors parted, sounds of slot machines, coins dropping, mindless chatter, and an endless sea of people overwhelmed me; but it was the intoxicating aroma that stopped me dead in my tracks.
I was knocked back against the wall by the perfumes of hundreds of people. The mix of smells was almost too much to handle. Each scent was a little different. Some were sweet, some spicy, some pungent, all working together to create an enchanting and enticing aroma that threatened to unleash the monster inside of me.
Lysander must have recognized the sensory overload. He put an arm around me and held me tight against his body as he guided me towards the front doors of the casino.
I absently licked at my fangs. My mouth watered. Instinct urged me to reach out and grab one of these sweet-smelling people.
This newfound anger and bloodlust had a strange control over my mind. Gone were thoughts of if or how I could do it. The monster crying for blood had entrapped my consciousness. My thoughts jumped from person to person, trying to pinpoint the one who would satisfy me best.
The packed casino, swarming with hundreds of people, had become the buffet line I’d suggested it was earlier.
Lysander urged me forward, towards the doors. “Breathe through your mouth, young one, it will make this easier. And stop licking your fangs. You need to learn to control those instincts.”
I’m sure if I hadn’t been in the throes of bloodlust, I would have been embarrassed by Lysander’s comment. Instead, I was thankful for the advice. I needed to get my head straight and gain some control. I took a deep breath through my mouth, as instructed. It weakened the scent, though I still tasted small hints of it.
We passed an elderly man in a wheelchair playing at one of the nickel slot machines. His wrinkled skin sagged against his cheekbones. He wheezed as he put a cigarette to his lips. I noticed a particularly pungent odor from him, drastically different than the wonderful perfumes surrounding me. It momentarily broke me from my craving.
“What is that smell?” I commented, reaching to cover my nose.
“Disease,” Lysander said matter-of-factly. “That man is probably dying of emphysema.”
We exited the casino. Relief washed through me as the fresh breeze blew though my hair. The sweet fragrances still hung all around, tempting me, but they seemed to be dampened by the lack of recirculated air. It was easier now to discern the directions to which each scent belonged. The monster inside of me still begged for blood, but out here, in the fresh air, I managed to regain a little mental control.
We walked a block away from the Stratosphere. Lysander’s arm was still draped around me, keeping me restrained as he escorted me down the street, while preventing me from acting out of thirst in the crowds that passed us. Awkward as it was, I was thankful to have him there, with me.
He led me to an empty side street. “This is where we go our separate ways, for now,” he said.
“What! Wait. How am I supposed to…” I panicked. I needed him. I needed the confidence he gave me. I needed him to stop me from doing something stupid.
“Don’t worry,” Lysander said with a hint of amusement. “I will not be too far. But I can’t be seen walking with you if you’re to attract your prey.” He gave me a wicked smile. His eyes seemed to roam across my body as if sizing me up. Apparently I passed whatever inspection he was giving. He gave a small nod and continued. “Just walk around and take a few back alleyways, and I am sure you will catch something. Hold back your urges until you are out of sight. Remember to be discreet and to breathe through your mouth. Don’t sniff at the air unless you are sure you’re ready.”
I needed that reminder. Breathing through my nose threatened to drive me insane. The sweet honeyed smell of blood was too enticing. Just the thought of it had me flicking my tongue against my teeth in anticipation.
“Quit licking your fangs,” Lysander said sternly. “People will notice that.”
He reached out, brushing the side of my face with his hand. “You can do this. I will be close by, in case you need help.”
Before I could say anything, he turned and walked away. In a superhuman blur of motion, he vanished, disappearing into a crowd of pedestrians on the main street.
I stood there for a moment, scared and anxious, feeling alone and vulnerable to my new beastly instincts. I knew I was being tested now and I needed to do this, but I still didn’t want to.
Lysander had showed me as much patience as I thought he was capable of, and if I failed this time, there was no telling what would happen. People wandered by me. I caught wind of their scents and breathed in their sweet perfume.
I became very aware of my teeth and had to stop myself from licking my tongue across them over and over. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I wondered if Lysander was watching. I imagined for a moment, hearing his voice chiding me for being so obvious about my new fangs. I couldn’t help myself. Instinct urged me to attack, to bite down on something. I hoped it wouldn’t always be this way. I didn’t want to walk around like a crazed, bloodthirsty monster forever.
There. That blonde woman, alone on the corner. No one would miss her.
Oh, my God, no! What am I thinking?
I mashed the palm of my hand into my forehead, as if I could push the horrid thought out.
Oooh, there’s a handsome man crossing the street. Just take a little taste.
The monster inside of me would not quiet its desperate pleading. Blood was at the forefront of all of my thoughts.
Lysander was right. I need to breathe through my mouth. I can’t concentrate with all these smells around me. If I can’t smell them, I might be able to hold back from attacking them.
My throat dried as I took a deep breath. My mind still begged for blood to quench the thirst, but the muted scent made it more bearable.
I walked further away from the Stratosphere, hoping to keep the desperate craving at bay until absolutely necessary.
Passing a few cute little wedding chapels, I chuckled at the drunken brides falling over in their pretty white dresses. I turned left, heading down toward Charleston and Main Street.
> Thankfully, the crowds were thinner the further I got away from Las Vegas Boulevard. Each time I passed a group of people, the beast in my mind screamed at me to attack. I didn’t know how long I could hold off the urges, or how I would do it discreetly, as Lysander had instructed.
I imagined the horror of letting the beast take over and the massacre that could happen.
I wonder if Lysander is still following me.
Instantly a new, frightening thought crossed my mind. What would happen if I ran into another vampire? What would they do? Would they just shoo me away, or try to defend their territory?
Lysander hadn’t said much about others like us. He’d admitted to being a loner, but said each group had its own rules and laws. What if another vampire recognized me as an infant, a fledgling vampire only a day old, and decided to destroy me?
Fear washed through me. The hairs prickled on the back of my neck. I wanted this all to be over. I’d been happy thinking vampires were just fairytales and living my boring, normal life. The reality of my new life was nothing like the fantasy. I didn’t want to have to feed on others or watch out for stronger vampires.
I turned down Main Street, heading back towards the Stratosphere, which was all but deserted. I figured if I was going to run into any questionable types, this was the place to do it. It was late, and the streets all seemed empty of tourists.
All of the small art studios had already closed for the night, leaving only a few late-night businesses open. I passed a studio showcasing an odd exhibit in its window, a wall of trash with a figure buried inside of it. I stopped, noticing the plastic eyes of a mannequin watching me. They reminded me of my own dead eyes, staring back from my reflection.
Suddenly, I caught the scent of something; a deep, musky, thick aroma with hints of warm beer and grease. I guessed it was human, but it wasn’t very appealing. Not like the succulent bouquet I’d enjoyed in the casino.
I sniffed the air, trying to discern where the scent was coming from. I remembered Lysander’s warning that I would not be the only one hunting this area. But he had said I would sense another vampire. Not really sure what that meant, I worried. Being so young, what if I didn’t know what the sensation was supposed to feel like?
Half scared of other vampires and half anxious about having to make my first kill, I shot nervous glances all around, checking to see if there were any other people in the area.
A group of men were standing in the alley between a tattoo shop and the small art studio. The scent seemed to be coming from their direction, but I wasn’t interested in attempting to attack their group.
I shoved my hands in my pockets and looked down at the pavement, walking past them casually, hoping that they wouldn’t notice me. A one-on-one confrontation was something I still hadn’t drummed up the courage for. And I was certainly not ready for four-on-one.
“Hey, Mija,” one of the men shouted “Hey, pretty girl, come here.”
Damn, they spotted me.
I had really hoped to avoid them. A lump formed in my throat. My heart sped, beating hard against the wall of my chest. I took a deep breath, through my mouth and tasted their musky scent. It wasn’t all that appealing, but my mouth watered anyway.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here all by yourself?” one of the men called out to me.
I tried to ignore the man and turned down another side street. The beast in my mind begged me to turn around, but I wasn’t ready for this.
“Mija, I’m talking to you, come back here.”
Footsteps echoed on the empty street. First, only one pair; and then I heard the others. I guessed the man and his three friends were going to make this a group effort.
I groaned in frustration. Lysander’s plan was working a little too perfectly. As a human, I knew better than to walk this area alone. I would only come here during the First Friday art festival with a group and never stray from the main streets. Strength in numbers usually kept people from doing bad things to you, but walking out here all alone was just asking for problems.
This was exactly what Lysander wanted. He knew that by using myself as bait, I would easily nab an attacker: a criminal, someone deserving of death. Images of my previous attackers flashed through my mind again. Anger flared inside of me. These men following me were no better than those men the night before.
The beast in my head roared to life, egging me on. It whispered to me about my new strength and abilities. I should be able to take them on. I could take them on. It would be so easy. I shook my head, trying to get rid of the taunting thoughts.
Lysander’s plan was perfect. Of course, I doubt he expected me to attract four victims at once.
I stopped in my tracks, looking for a way back to Las Vegas Boulevard.
The beast might be ready, but a tiny voice, my subconscious, reminded me that I had never been in a fight before. I’d never hurt anyone intentionally. I wasn’t ready for this. I needed to find Lysander.
The footsteps sounded too close now, accompanied by drunken laughter. Running away wasn’t going to be an option. Like it or not, I was going to have to face them.
My stomach knotted as I turned around.
They stood fanned out around me, barely an arm’s reach away. Stained, yellow teeth greeted me from behind the first man’s mustachioed mouth. His beer-soaked aroma wafted to my nose. He stumbled, taking a step closer to me.
I jumped back in response. “Listen, man, just leave me alone. I don’t want any trouble,” I said in a clear commanding voice. It was more of a warning to my attacker than a plea for his retreat. I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but I knew if this man kept bothering me, I was going to do something I might regret.
“Oh, no, mija. No trouble,” he slurred his words. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t walk around all alone. It’s not safe here. Lots of bad men around.”
The group of friends laughed, exchanged high fives and bumped fists.
“Thanks, but I’m not alone. I’m meeting my… uh… boyfriend.”
Lysander, where are you? Help me!
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I had the sudden sensation of unseen eyes watching me accompanied by a strange warmth. It enveloped me in a comforting sort of way.
You can do this. You are strong. I heard Lysander’s voice like a gentle whisper in my head. Somehow, hearing his voice gave me strength.
I looked into the drunken man’s eyes and tried to discern if he was really going to be trouble or if I could manage to get away without a fight. I sensed nothing, other than the fact he was drunk.
“I could be your boyfriend,” he slurred.
His friends continued their annoying laughter.
“Yeah, we could be your boyfriends,” they chorused.
“Last time, man. Leave me alone,” I commanded, balling a fist at my side.
Anger burned inside of me. I remembered the skinny man who had innocently asked me for directions before his big friend snuck up behind me and attacked. This man and his friends were no different. No normal person would have followed me alone down a dark street with decent intentions.
“Oh, c’mon, little lady, let’s have some fun.”
The drunken man reached out to grab hold of me, and I stepped quickly out of his grip, surprising myself with the speed with which I had moved.
He fell forward, arms wind-milling as he tried to right himself. His friends took this as their cue, reaching out to grab me as well.
Anxiety left me, replaced now with the need for survival. Primal instincts kicked in. I wasn’t going to be made a victim by these men.
A blur of outstretched arms reached to grab me. I fought back, throwing punches and kicks, moving with incredible speed and grace I had never had before.
A hand grabbed hold of my wrist. In a smooth, fluid motion, I twisted out of my would-be captor’s grip, breaking free of his hold. I knocked back and threw a wild punch. My fist collided with the nearest face and I was rewarded with a loud groan of
pain, and the unmistakable sound of bones cracking. My attacker fell to the ground, leaving three others still trying to subdue me.
I felt strong and powerful, knocking each man down as if he were a rag doll.
The man who had originally called out to me stumbled back onto his feet. He screamed obscenities and words in Spanish that I assumed were meant as insults. He lunged at me again.
Fueled by the need for survival and my unyielding hunger, I grabbed hold of him. Instinctively, I yanked at his hair, pulling his head toward me. I bared my fangs and sank them deep into his neck. Hot blood flooded my mouth. I savored the thick, honey-sweet elixir.
Pure ecstasy.
It was warm and smooth, filling my being with new energy. Drunk with this new sensation, I felt unstoppable. Powerful. I could stop bad people from doing awful, evil, vile things. This bloodlust had a purpose. If I was to be this creature, I would ensure my feeding helped to stop the unnecessary deaths of innocents.
Visions of the men who had beaten me fueled my rage. This man would not be allowed to go peacefully into the light. I wanted him to pay for what he would have done to me—what I had already endured at the hands of men like him. I wanted him to feel it all, pain and torment. I gnawed at his neck, and dug my nails into his dirty flesh.
He would pay with his last dying breath.
My victim moaned pitifully. His arms flailed. He beat against my back, struggling to get away. I didn’t flinch. My arms encircled his body and locked tight in a deadly embrace.
His heart thundered in his chest, pumping blood faster through the wound into my awaiting mouth.
I drained him, gulping his blood down like a refreshing drink on a hot summer day, until I heard the last pathetic thump of his heart.
Engrossed in my own personal victory, and drunk with this new blood, I failed to pay attention to the other three men.
Screams of “Vampire! Vampire!” echoed in the empty streets.
Instantly, it hit me. I was supposed to be discreet. Lysander had warned not to let others find out about us or the Acta Sanctorum would begin hunting us down.
I sprang to my feet, throwing the lifeless body to the ground, and took off after the other three with a speed I never thought I was capable of.
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