by C. J. Pinard
Looking around to ensure nobody was coming in, I licked my lips and stared into her eyes again. “Just relax, this will be quick.”
Letting my fangs descend, I used the same feeding method I had used on Sam and the guy at the Greyhound station bathroom, and quickly inserted a fang into her carotid. She didn’t even scream, even though her eyes exhibited terror. After a few pulls of her deliciously pure blood, she moaned as I fed, growing slack in my arms. I listened as her heartbeat began to slow, and I reluctantly pulled out of her neck. I swore after my ordeal with Agnes I would never kill a human while I fed, especially after hearing the bitch brag about all the humans she had “accidentally killed” until she had learned to “control her feeding.” Right. Being that she attacked and turned me so quickly, and just her sadistic behavior in general, I knew she didn’t give a shit about those humans she’d killed. But at least she’d taught me how to listen to Sam’s heartbeat and had been good for that one lesson.
I licked the fang wounds closed and then slowly set the now-sleeping girl into the chair she’d vacated. I placed the book, open and facedown, into her lap and slunk out of the laundry room, ready to sleep the day away.
Once I reached my room, I realized I’d have to choose between a blanket to cover me or risk getting sizzled. With an annoyed grunt, I set the blanket over the curtain rod and tucked in the sides around the window as best as I could. The sun was rising fast, and I was growing very sleepy. Once I was satisfied I wouldn’t die by sunlight, I flopped onto the bed and fell asleep almost immediately.
Chapter 12
Only The Lonely
Tampa, Florida – 1987
I woke the next evening with a renewed vigor. I had a plan. Find a job working nights, then find an apartment. Then make some damn friends. These past two months had been lonely, and during all the time I had to lie there and contemplate life while tied to that bed, I realized I needed to forge some meaningful relationships in my life. People who would actually miss me if I were to go missing… again.
After putting on the nicest clothes I had, which was a pair of jeans and a button-up shirt, I hit the pavement, asking directions from passersby how to get to the bar and restaurant scene. It was almost a thirty-minute walk, but I reached it easily enough. After wandering into the first hip spot I found, I realized I had a huge problem on my hands: The manager wanted references. How was I going to give them what I didn’t have? Everyone in Cali thought I was dead or missing. No use in waking that sleeping giant. The other problem? I didn’t have a valid telephone number. So, I quickly realized I’d have to resort to something darker.
A restaurant-slash-lounge called the Bunny Hole was next in line down the street, so I wandered inside and asked the pretty hostess about a job. She wore an outfit with short-shorts, a puffy tail, and a top that had her breasts spilling out of it. It was complete with shiny rabbit ears on a headband on top of her head. She said she’d be right back. With a wink.
I looked around the place and quickly realized why it was called the Bunny Hole. Aside from the costumed waitresses, women in various stages of undress were on the stage, slithering around poles and throwing off their garments while men tossed dollar bills onstage. Seeing that none of the wait staff were males, I figured I’d have to lie my ass off to get a job behind the bar.
A sweaty overweight man with a bad combover wearing too many rings greeted me. “I’m Gino, can I help ya?”
“Yes, I’m looking for a job. I have a ton of bartender experience, as well as having done some security, too.”
He looked me up and down while he puffed on a cigar. I had to breathe through my mouth before I choked on its pungent stench.
“Down a bartender. We do have an openin’. You got references?”
I nodded. “Sure. Got somewhere quieter we can talk so I can show you?” I patted my pocket as if it contained paperwork. Well, it contained papers, but they were pages of newspaper I’d picked up on my way over here.
He led me to a back room where another man sat smoking a cigarette and poring over paperwork.
“Tony, go fetch me a drink, will ya?”
The man left and I breathed a proverbial sigh of relief. No need for witnesses.
“Lemme see these references,” Gino demanded, sitting back in his chair and putting the cigar between his teeth.
“Sure, sure,” I said, pulling out the pages and setting them on the desk. He went to reach for them, but I said, “Hey, Gino. Right here.” I pointed at my eyes.
“What…”
As soon as I had him locked, and he got that glazed-over expression, I started. “I’ve got five years of bartending experience and graduated from the best bartending school in Florida. You called all my references, and they checked out. You’re going to hire me, and I start tomorrow night. You’re going to give me top bartender pay.”
Gino repeated after me and I looked away to break the connection. He sort of shook his head to clear the daze as I picked up the papers and shoved them back into my pocket. With a smile, I put out my hand. “Thank you so much, sir. You won’t regret it.”
He smiled weakly and nodded. “Sure, sure, kid. Can’t wait to have ya onboard. Hey, what’d ya say your name was again?”
“Vane.”
“See you tomorrow night, man.”
I walked out with a smile on my face. It felt like cheating but what other choice did I have?
I vowed I would not use that hypnotism or whatever it was very much. It was pretty creepy, and I knew it was downright dangerous if I abused it. I hoped it didn’t give humans brain damage or something.
Two weeks later, after struggling through learning the art of cocktail mixing and working the cash register, I was catching on. The other two bartenders couldn’t believe I got hired with such inexperience, but I just told them that Gino had agreed to give me a chance. They didn’t know he was paying me head bartender pay. That was my little secret. Thankfully, I was a quick study, and with the little “cheat sheet” they kept behind the bar, I was down to mixing drinks like a pro in no time.
Tonight, I was grateful to have the evening off because I had to go find a place to live. I was so done with living in that motel, and with my first paycheck cashed and burning a hole in my pocket, I wandered around town looking at different apartment complexes. I checked the newspaper to see if anyone had rooms for rent, even though that wasn’t ideal. I preferred to live alone at this point.
I came upon an apartment dwelling painted turquoise with its vacancy sign lit up. I wandered inside and inquired about a one-bedroom or studio apartment. The kid working behind the desk told me I had to come back tomorrow during business hours to speak to the manager.
Fuck.
“Can I get the phone number? Perhaps I can just call then.”
He jotted it down without interest and went back to watching the small black and white television he kept behind the counter.
Several other apartments were the same way, and I realized I’d have to convince someone to show me a unit at night or put a deposit down on one, sight unseen. Then, I got lucky.
The Palm Reed Apartments, just a few blocks’ walk from the Bunny Hole, had a manager on duty.
“Damn kids can’t show up for work,” she muttered, taking a draw from her cigarette and then blowing smoke out of the side of her mouth. Her bright-pink lipstick left a ring around the cigarette. Her hair looked like it had enough hairspray in it to trap a nest of rats, and her fingernails matched her lipstick.
“Can you show me a one-bedroom or studio?” I asked politely.
“Sure, sure,” she said, grabbing a key off the rack behind her and bidding me to follow her up a set of stairs.
The one-bedroom unit was clean enough and would do. I gave her first and last month’s rent and was glad it didn’t cost me anything to eat because I had about ten dollars left to my name until my next payday, minus tips I’d make. I’d had to dip into my cash stash for this, but it would be worth it. She said I could move in in
two weeks, which was perfect since I’d paid the motel a month in advance and I was two weeks in.
Before returning to the motel, I knew I had to find someone to eat. I hated that I needed to feed on humans, but if I wanted to continue to live—or whatever this was—that was my fate. I briefly wondered if animal blood would sate my hunger and made a mental note to catch one of the squirrels that frequented the motel’s lawns and trees sometime.
I wandered into a dark bar with no cover charge and sat on a stool. I ordered a one-dollar happy hour special beer and nursed it until I could decide which victim would be my meal for the evening.
There were very few people in here, and when I saw a very drunk young man stagger to the bathrooms, I knew it was my chance. I left my barely touched beer on the bar-top and followed the man inside.
Washing my hands and pretending to preen over my reflection as the man used the urinal, I quickly dried off my hands as he zipped up. Before he could turn around, I grabbed him from behind and pressed my hand to his mouth.
“Shh, this won’t hurt a bit,” I murmured in his ear.
He struggled a little bit but didn’t have much fight in him in his condition. I sank my fangs into his neck, and he cried out behind my hand. It wasn’t long before his already slow heartbeat began to get even slower. I really wasn’t fully sated and wanted more, but his heartbeat was too slow for my liking. I licked his wounds clean so they would heal quickly and dragged him to a toilet stall. I closed the lid and sat him there and hoped he wouldn’t fall off, but I couldn’t care about that. After checking my reflection to ensure my face was clean, I exited the bathroom and then the bar with my head down.
I found myself thinking about the guy as I left, hoping he’d be all right. Why I cared, I wasn’t sure, and told myself to get over it. I’d never see him again, and I could only hope his human healing ability helped him regain the blood loss.
I wasn’t even a block away when I heard shouting coming from the direction of the bar. “He’s not breathing!” and “I can’t find a pulse!” and “Call nine-one-one!” was all I heard.
I closed my eyes.
Fuck.
I walked faster and rounded the corner. Deciding spending fifty cents on a bus ride would be in my best interest, I caught the one that was idling at the bus stop and took a seat. I had no idea if this one was headed to my apartment, but I didn’t care. I had to get out of this area.
Unfortunately, I had to ride the damn bus for almost an hour before it reached my area of town, and I got off and walked the rest of the way. Once inside my room, I stripped my clothes off and took a long, hot shower, saying a little prayer for that guy. I felt like shit because I thought I’d been in control. Obviously, I hadn’t been, and hoped he got to a hospital in time. Note to self: Drunks don’t always make the best meals.
Chapter 13
Isn’t She Lovely
Present Day
Like a creepy-ass stalker, I stared down at MyAnna as she slept. Taking Face’s suggestion, I put her up in the vacant apartment number seven—the one that accommodated humans. I’d built ten apartments here for club members, and six were occupied. The rest of the club members chose to live in their houses or condos out in the city. Some had spouses.
With her black hair splayed out against the white pillow, her lashes causing a shadow on her cheeks, she looked so innocent and pure. The thought that she had been married to that wolf, James, made my fists ball up. Had he taken advantage of her? Taken her innocence? She didn’t look that old. Anger surged in me once again.
Why the hell was I feeling so protective over this human?
She’d had nothing but the clothes on her back when I’d taken her from that filthy wolves’ den, so I had no way to look at a driver’s license or ID card to see her age or legal address. I had Face running a background on her now.
With my arms folded across my chest, I looked down at her. Her breathing was even, and she slept with her lips slightly parted. I wondered what she dreamt about.
Why did I care?
“You gonna keep her?” whispered Shadow from behind me. I’d smelled him before he approached so I wasn’t startled.
I turned to look at him slightly and scoffed. “She’s not a puppy.”
Then I left her room, her apartment, and closed the door behind me. I slid the bolt I’d installed closed so she couldn’t sneak out. I’d left her an iPad by the bedside with a note to click an icon to alert us she was awake. Face had set it up. I had no fuckin’ clue how the hell it worked.
“I know,” Shadow said, walking with me. “But still, are you gonna keep her?”
We walked along the catwalk and down the metal stairs into the main area of the warehouse. He followed me into the offices area and to the office where Face sat behind the computer—his computer. I’d just given him the whole office. He was the computer whiz, might as well have his own shit.
“I don’t know yet, to answer your question, you nosy ass,” I said to Shadow.
He chuckled in response.
“Whatcha got?” I asked Face.
He turned the monitor toward me, which showed a large photo of her Louisiana state-issued ID card. “She doesn’t have a license, just an ID card. MyAnna Lawson, twenty-seven years old. Five-foot-one, one hundred twenty-five pounds. Same address we found her at listed on the ID.”
I got closer to the screen. “Says this was issued six months ago. Any previous addresses or licenses?”
Face turned the screen back to him and began typing. “It’s hard to say, there’s a marriage license here filed six months ago in Jefferson Parish. It’s between her and James. I got her maiden name from the marriage license. She’s definitely a local.”
“I could tell by the way spoke. She’s got that unique accent,” Shadow commented.
“Agreed,” I added.
“Maiden name Jones, and I’m pretty sure this is her,” he said, turning the monitor toward us once again.
It showed a driver’s license of a teenage MyAnna Jones issued eleven years ago.
I furrowed my brow. “Why would she have a license and then go to just having an ID card? That’s odd.”
“Agreed,” Face said, turning the monitor back to him. He typed some more and told us that was all he had on her. Then, his attention turned toward the other computer monitor as a sound chimed. He clicked a button and told us to look. “The princess has awoken. And… she doesn’t look happy.”
A camera pointed at her bed showed her sitting up, the iPad in her lap and her angry face yelling, “Let me out!” at the camera.
I chuckled and made my way toward the apartment. Shadow went to follow me, but I turned and said, “Do me a favor and check on the garage. Make sure they’re not just sitting around shooting the shit. If they are, give them some cash to go buy another bike to fix up.”
“On it,” Shadow said, disappearing into thin air.
I rolled my eyes as I climbed the stairs. I unbolted the door to apartment seven and opened it up to find MyAnna standing there with her arms folded across her chest.
“How dare you lock me in here. You’re no better than those wolf monsters.” She narrowed angry brown eyes at me.
“It’s to protect you from the wolves,” I pointed out. “We want to keep you here until we’re sure you won’t sneak out and go back to them.”
Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at me in horror. “I would never.”
I held out my hand. “Okay, then. Let’s go downstairs and get you something to eat. This apartment’s kitchen hasn’t been used yet and there are no utensils or cooking supplies. We have a full kitchen downstairs.”
I’d sent a prospect out to get a few human food items. He’d been recently turned so he knew what to get. I would probably stand in a grocery store and stare aimlessly at all the shit humans had to choose from now. I’d heard it was exponentially more diverse than it was in 1987.
She reluctantly took my hand and then pulled it away with a gasp. She looked up at
me, eyes wide. “Your hand is freezing!”
I put my hand in my pocket. “We’re the opposite of wolves. Cold-blooded.”
She chewed her lip. “Like a snake? Is that why they call you Viper?”
I chuckled. I hadn’t heard that one before, but it was fitting. “No, sweetheart. They call me that for much darker reasons.”
MyAnna frowned and backed away from me.
Shit.
I ushered her out the door with a flourish without touching her. I led her down the stairs and to the kitchen area. I pointed to the refrigerator and cupboards and told her to help herself to whatever she’d like to eat. I noticed a brand-new, shiny silver toaster plugged in next to the microwave that we kept around for warming up blood bags.
Dash and Jewel sat around the table drinking coffee. Both new vampires, they hadn’t gotten rid of the comfort of coffee yet, and I didn’t say a word. They’d soon see for themselves that it was a useless habit.
MyAnna glanced at the prospects nervously and lifted her hand in a small wave before heading to the refrigerator.
“Dash, Jewel, this is MyAnna. She’ll be our guest for a short time.”
“Nice to meet y’all,” she said quietly before opening the fridge door.
They both looked at me questioningly and I just shrugged. “Show her where the plates and shit are.” Then, I walked out.
Dash rushed out after me, still holding his coffee mug, which I just now noticed had a Dracula-themed graphic on it.
“Cute,” I said dryly, pointing at the mug.
He smiled proudly at me. “I ordered it off of Amazon.”
“What do you want, Dash? I have shit to do.”
He glanced back at the kitchen, then to me. Lowering his voice, he asked, “Is she here as a blood slave?”
