by S. Coop
Morgan was so upset with herself for what she had done, not that she had fed off that gorgeous man, but that she had lost control.
Feeding off a human was a practiced art form; one she thought she had perfected over decades. There were three tiers or stages to feeding. Tier one was the stage that vampires were supposed to stay in at all times. For a vampire, feeding on the palm was the safest place to feed on a human. This granted the vampire more control and was less “seductive” in nature. The less sexual and the more businesslike the feeding, the safer it was. Tier two was when the human would most likely be exposed to becoming undead. This was where Morgan had gone wrong. Not only did she bite Lasandro on the neck, she stayed for far too long. At a certain point in feeding, humans start to produce adrenaline, either through fear or through pleasure. Adrenaline makes the feeding much more pleasing to the vampire and sometimes results in a vampire taking too much blood causing the vampire’s and the human’s DNA to mix, leaving the human forever changed. Tier three was death, in which case the human was completely drained of blood.
Some of the most seasoned vampires make a mistake now and then, Morgan thought. Her plan was to feed, compel, and leave. She took too much blood, and the knock on the door prevented her of rectifying her mistake. Now she was looking at a soon to be new vampire. She never wanted or intended to be a Maker. She had enough shit to deal with without having an out of control, new vampire on her hands. The only way she could possibly prevent the transformation was to kill him because once he did turn, he would be more difficult to kill. Morgan wasn’t keen on the idea, but it was her mistake to clean up. She sat perched in a tree outside of his bedroom window. Watching him toss and turn in his bed, she felt guilty. There will be no better time than now. Still she held off. She hadn’t killed a human in decades, but it would have to be done sooner rather than later …
Chapter Two
Senses
When Lasandro awoke, the room was completely dark. He was confused about what time it was. I slept all day? This bug is really kicking my ass. He reached for his cellphone, tapped the power button, and adjusted his eyes to the blaring light. 6:30 p.m.? He had slept all day. On top of that, he was thirsty and had a craving for something he couldn’t put his finger on. He headed to the kitchen for some left over mac ‘n’ cheese.
He cringed at the taste of the mac ‘n’ cheese. Ugh. I know I’m no chef, but this is ridiculous. He plunged the plastic fork back in the spongy, yellow pasta while taking in the horrible kitchen décor. The lime green walls fascinated him. He couldn’t believe someone had enough bad taste to choose that color, especially for a kitchen. Then he reminded himself that he did live there so in essence, he was condoning that type of color. The house came with minimal appliances, just the basics that one needs to get by. It hadn’t bothered him when choosing the place, because he knew he wouldn’t be there that long. Soon he would be living the life he had become accustomed to, and finding a new place to crash was not really an option anyway. Derrick knew where he was, so it was only a matter of time before he showed up with his hand out.
He finished off the entire bowl and quickly regretted it. Racing to the bathroom, he almost lost his footing before he violently projectile-vomited into the toilet. Ugh, this tastes worse coming up. He shivered while emptying the contents of his stomach. When he was finished barfing up what felt like three days of food, he sat on the cool bathroom floor and tried to compose himself. Everything had gone haywire since the night before. After ten minutes of dry heaves and shakes, he jumped into the shower, hoping it would help him recover quicker.
Working up a good lather, he washed himself from head to toe and hurriedly jumped out to get dressed. Regardless of how badly he felt, he was going out. The visit from Dana had changed everything. He had to find a new place to live ASAP, a place where no one could find him. He knew if he stayed there any longer, Derrick and his thugs would be there or even worse—the police would show up.
After calling a cab, he rummaged through his toiletry bag. Where’s that hair gel? He found the quarter full bottle, squeezed a good amount in his hand, and worked it through his hair, slicking it back while spying his appearance in the mirror. He looked pale, as if all the blood had drained out of his face. Leaning in closer, he noticed two small red dots on the lower right side of his neck. They looked like bite marks. Bite marks? He ran his fingers over them. “Ouch! What the …?”
He went to his bedroom and searched through his unpacked luggage to grab what he called his “hickey hider” scarf. He wrapped it around his neck on the way out. Last night must have been one hell of a night!
Lasandro headed downtown to the Bamboo Lounge and hoped that nobody decided to slip him a roofie or anything. He walked up to the bouncer ready to deliver his usual line. Just as Lasandro began to speak, the bouncer stopped him with a twinkle in his eye and told him to go right in. Odd, Lasandro thought. Still he informed the man that he didn’t swing that way but respected his choice.
The Bamboo Lounge was a bright, colorful place. It was a little too bright for his taste, but still it would do. The club was mostly cyan and green, with a little neon yellow outlining the bar and DJ booth. It hurt his eyes so he considered pulling out his shades. Then he threw out that idea, realizing how much of a douchebag he would look like wearing shades and a scarf in a place like that. He spied the type of females going in, and they were by no means broke. At least they didn’t look broke. He motioned for the bartender and ordered some kind of fruity Zen fusion drink, but he knew what he really needed was some Nyquil.
He impatiently waited on his drink, watching the bartender perform a ton of unnecessary tricks just to pour it. That’s when he noticed a fairly attractive older woman staring at him from the other end of the bar. She was frosted from head to toe with the finest Zale’s had to offer. She was also wearing Jadore Dior; he could smell her from across the room. He could also smell something else that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but whatever it was, it made his blood boil.
And five, four, three, two, one … Lasandro counted down as she sashayed over to him.
“New in town?” she asked, resting her back against the bar.
Lasandro leaned back in the barstool and glanced at her. “Fairly.”
“My name’s Karine. What’s yours?” She shamelessly scanned his physique.
“Leonardo.”
“And does Leonardo have a last name?” she asked.
“Leonardo Smith.”
“Well, Mr. Smith. Nice to meet you.” She motioned to the bartender and ordered a round of tequila shots for both of them. He saw her pull out a black American Express card to pay for them.
Jackpot.
They talked for a while and even though he was sick as a dog, he turned on his usual charm. She ate up every word he said, every story he fabricated. He found out that she was married and her husband was out of town on business.
“So, Leonardo, the club is about to close. How about we take this party someplace else, if you know what I mean.”
She is so forward and so drunk. How can I resist? If things go as planned, she will wake up in the morning with a few things missing and I will have the funds for a safe haven. Lasandro finished off the rest of his drink. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Your place?” she asked.
He felt a weird sensation come over him, a mix of dread and hunger. He had heard those words before, and thinking about them almost made him panic. Karine saw the change in his expression and instead offered her place, which he agreed to.
When they got outside the chemistry continued to flow naturally, well, as naturally as Lasandro could make it. He hailed a cab, and Karine flirted with him while they made their way to her place. Lasandro began to notice little things about her. She had a touch of gray in her hair that she had tried covering up with hair dye, and he could tell that she had had some work done. She was much older than she looked in the club, b
ut that didn’t deter him. Still, she was the perfect target.
When they got into the elevator to go up to her place, she begged him to take her right then and there. This could be fun, he thought while a mischievous grin formed on his face.
He reached over, pressed the stop button on the elevator, and grabbed her hips. Bringing her closer to him, he kissed her neck, slowly taking in her soft texture and the alluring aroma. Her skin tasted sweet, and it felt warm and silky.
Karine kissed him ferociously, and he mimicked her actions, growing hard as a rock. She smells so good. He couldn’t help but nuzzle and nibble her neck. She frantically rubbed his growing bulge and unzipped his pants. That sent him over the edge. He wanted her and he wanted her bad. The hunger he had earlier returned with a vengeance, and he knew there was only one way to satisfy it. That was to take her in every which way—
And that was when he lost control.
He lifted her dress up, tore off her panties, and entered her with one rough thrust. Grabbing her ass and lifting her legs, he swiftly slid in and out, her moans driving him over the edge. His kisses became harder and more violent as the nibbles became bites. She weakly attempted to pull away from his unyielding oral assault, but it was too late. He bit into her neck with such force that he could hear her collarbone snap. Blood gushed from the open wound, resembling a breaking dam. He ferociously sucked and slurped the warm liquid while his steel cock pumped into her. He fell into a state of sexual frenzy and lost all sense of humanity. The sweet and salty taste of her blood was amazing. and he feverishly lavished every succulent drop.
Moments later, Lasandro snapped out of his euphoric revelry. Stunned, he looked at her limp body in his arms. He dropped her and backed away in disbelief. Karine lay there, her eyes filling with terror as a single tear trailed down the side of her face and hit the elevator floor before her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She was gone. Just like that, he had killed her.
“What have I done?”
He had little recollection of what happened, and a red haze coated what he did remember. He stood there in the elevator in awe, his hands and clothes covered with blood. Her blood. Nervously, he hit the G button on the panel and prayed no one else had to use the elevator. If anyone saw him with her, like that, he was done for. Once he reached the garage, he did the only thing he knew to do.
He ran …
Chapter Three
Everything Changes
Lasandro made it to his apartment fast, so fast it was as if he transported there. He had to grab his things and get the hell out of Dodge. I know I’m not the best person in the world, but murder? I didn’t want to kill anyone. He panicked, running through the door and straight to the bathroom to rip off his blood-soaked shirt. He shakily threw it into the wastebasket, trying to get rid of the horrid memories along with it. Her scent was still all over him, and paired with the mixture of blood, it was too much for him to handle. He vigorously washed his face and hands, trying to wash away the shame of what he did.
He ran to the hall closet to get his backpack when he noticed he had unwanted visitors. It was Derrick and Dana sitting on his couch like two peas in a pod.
“How did you get in here?” Lasandro yelled.
“Yo, Dro, is that any way to talk to your best friend?” Derrick clicked on a lamp. He was sitting there with a twisted look on his face. “You a hard man to find.” Derrick looked at Dana and patted her on the leg. “Luckily, Dana here got a knack for finding folks.”
Lasandro glared at Dana then back at Derrick. “That’s ex-best friend, or did you forget what you did to me?”
“First of all, muthafucka, you need to change yo tone because I’m the one with the piece here!” Derrick moved something onto his lap.
Lasandro looked at the shiny object.
“Plus, I don’t recall hearing anything from you when I was locked up! No visit, no nothin! Seem like you got selective memory, Dro!”
Things were getting out of hand. “Look, I don’t want any trouble.”
“Well, you got trouble!” Derrick spat while charging at him. He waved the gun in Lasandro’s face. “The SVPD looking for you and giving out a nice little reward, too.” Derrick tapped the gun on the side of his own head. “Funny thing, Dro. We ain’t boys no more.” He stared at Lasandro. “Why wouldn’t I cash in on that? Unless you give me a cut of what you made off that last biddy you conned. She was loaded! There ain’t no way you didn’t get something outta her. I want my money, Dro!”
“I don’t have anything, and if I remember right, it’s because you ratted me out to her damn daughter. Didn’t you know that girl was playing you, man? You were supposed to be my boy, and you chose her over me, so get out. I don’t have anything. You saw to that, bro.” Lasandro turned his rage to Dana. “And why the hell are you here? You banging him now? At least you waited until we broke up this time!”
“Screw you, Dro!” she spat back at him. “You shouldn’t have dissed me like you did!”
Things were getting too heated, and Lasandro couldn’t take much more of it. He felt as if he was burning up. Weak and dizzy with fever, he began to lose focus as his vision went in and out.
“I … I think you should leave,” he said in an unfamiliar voice, even to himself.
“Yo, what the hell’s wrong with you, man? I’ve got the gun, I make the rules.” Derrick backed away as he waved the gun.
“I don’t know! Something’s wrong! Just go, go now!” Lasandro’s breathing became hard and ragged, and his heart started pumping a mile a minute. His muscles began to bulge as his body went into a seizure.
“What the hell?” Derrick yelled.
What’s happening to me? Lasandro felt as if he was dying inside, yet he was still alive. His body felt as if it was turning to liquid. The pain was excruciating. He could feel his muscles breaking down then growing back. He bit his lip so hard that blood began to spew. “What … is … happening?” He let out a blood-curdling scream as the air in his lungs disappeared and he dropped to his knees, blood flowing from his mouth. The transformation had begun. That’s when he felt a hard object hit him on the head.
Derrick had knocked him out cold with the gun. “Yo, what the hell just happened? Is he dead?” Derrick’s eyes were big as golf balls.
Dana looked at Lasandro, and he didn’t seem to be breathing, “What did you do to him?” she yelled.
Derrick shoved Dana back. “Shut up! You saw how he was acting.” Derrick cautiously kicked Lasandro’s lifeless body. “Yo, Dro! Quit playin!”
“Is he dead? Oh my God, I think he’s dead!”
“He can’t be dead,” Derrick said. “Come here and see if he has a pulse.”
Dana peered at Lasandro’s motionless body over Derrick’s shoulder. Dana begged nervously while Derrick continued to kick Lasandro. “Let’s just get out of here,” she whispered. “I have a really bad feeling.”
“Yo, did you see his eyes? What was that shit about? And all the blood? Dana, he isn’t right. We need to smoke him before he wakes up.” Derrick pointed the gun at the side of Lasandro’s head.
“Derrick, no!” Dana lunged for the gun.
Ignoring Dana’s pleas and shoving her aside, Derrick shakily aimed for Lasandro’s head. He started to tap the trigger when he heard a sound like a Mack truck crashing through the front door. The next sound he heard was the sound of his own ribs cracking under the force from a kick to his chest. The gun went off wildly, hitting Dana in the shoulder with a stray bullet. Her knees buckled as Derrick’s body hit the floor with a loud thud. Wounded and petrified, Dana looked up at the tall brunette assailant.
“You...you killed him! You killed Derrick!” Dana trembled, crying uncontrollably.
“Yeah, he’s dead, and rightly so.” Morgan looked down at Dana and could see the fear in her eyes. She knew that Dana thought she was going to be next because Dana smelled like fear. “Poor baby.” She eyed the trail of blood running down Dana’s arm. “Looks like your friend accidental
ly shot you while you guys were robbing a liquor store.” Morgan pointed to the wound, “You should go get that treated.” Morgan captured the red liquid with her index finger. Staring at Dana, she brought it to her mouth and ran it across her tongue. “Understand?”
Dana nodded and looked down at her arm. Trembling and shocked, she didn’t hesitate. She ran as fast as Morgan had ever seen an injured human run.
She didn’t know how close she was to dying tonight, but compelling her makes more sense. She will no longer be an issue.
Lasandro awakened to the sound of a loud slurping noise. He looked over to his left to see a woman kneeling over Derrick’s body. It’s that woman! What is she doing back here? That’s when everything came back to him; how he met her at the club, how he brought her back there and how she...drank his blood as she was drinking Derrick’s now, as if he had drunk from that old woman. It all passed before his eyes in a gory flashback he didn’t want to remember.
“What are you, some sort of monster or something?” he asked hysterically.
Morgan was in front of him, quick as a flash, wiping off her mouth while staring at him intently. Those eyes, Lasandro remembered, were what got him in this mess. She stared at him for what seemed like an eternity, reading his thoughts, studying him, and taking in every bit of him.
“You’re awake,” she said.
“You’re awake!” He spat in a panic. “You’re awake? Is that all you have to say after eating my friend, well ex-best friend?”
Morgan shrugged, “What do you want me to say? You should be thanking me.”
“You can start by telling me what the hell you’re doing back in my house and what you’ve done to me!”
“Calm down. If I hadn’t been here he,”—she motioned toward Derrick’s still body—“would have shot you.” She licked the blood off her fingers. “Obviously something’s happened to you.”
