Sucks to Be Me

by Painter, Kristen

  This was the kind of coat a vampire would wear. She twirled in front of the triple mirrors, watching the skirt flare out as she moved. Too bad they didn’t make a summer version.

  A small knock on the door stopped her. “Donna? How are you doing?”

  Donna opened the door. “This coat.”

  Louise smiled. “You wear clothes well.”

  “I’d say you know how to pick things out. So much of this is working. But yeah, this coat is going home with me for sure.”

  “Excellent. It looks amazing on you. Is there anything else I can take to the register?”

  Donna turned to the first rack where she’d been hanging the things she wanted to keep and scooped up about eighteen inches of merchandise. “All of this. Plus the pants and blouse I’m wearing. And I still need to try on the dresses.”

  Louise’s eyes bulged a little, but only for a fraction of a second. “I’ll get to work on these while you try those dresses on, then.”

  “Thanks.” Donna got back to it, shedding the coat and current outfit and stepping into the first dress. It was a slinky column of shimmering black that, while pretty, had looked like a snooze on the hanger.

  When Donna turned to the mirrors, there was nothing sleepy about what she saw. “Holy communion.” She had no need for a dress like this that clung to every curve. No place to wear a slip of body-hugging fabric that dripped with old Hollywood glamour. Absolutely no reason to buy an outfit that made her look like a femme fatale.

  But she already knew she wasn’t leaving the store without it. Just for fun, she curled her lips back and tried to make her fangs come out. Nothing. She thought about rare steak and sinking her teeth into Yuri, and bam, there they were.

  There was the faintest glow in her eyes, too, and she studied her vampire self, trying to get used to the look. Then she blinked. “Hey, I can see my reflection.”

  “What was that?” Louise called back.

  Donna whipped around toward the door, her fangs disappearing. “Uh, nothing. Just talking to myself.”

  She put her hand to her chest. Her heart was pounding. So she still had a reflection. And a beating heart. Proof to support what Claudette had said about not believing everything she saw on TV. And another reminder of how much Donna needed tonight’s meeting.

  She quickly tried on the rest of the clothes, finding a few more things, although no dresses quite so dramatic as the first, to add to her pile.

  At last, she put her own clothes back on and left the dressing room.

  Louise was waiting. “How’d you do?”

  “Couple more items.” Donna handed them over. “I’m very happy. I know the store is closing, and I don’t want to keep you, so hopefully I can get out of here without making you late.”

  Louise hefted the clothing she’d been handed. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’m here for as long as you need me.”

  “Thank you. I have a feeling I’ll be back too.” She followed Louise to the register.

  The saleswoman slipped behind the counter. “I just have to add these last things and wrap them for you, and you’ll be all set.”

  “Great.” Donna was already thinking about what she might do with the rest of her time before the meeting. Maybe she’d head toward the location, find a place to park, then look for one of those twenty-four-hour diners and get something to eat. Like chocolate cake. Or a giant black-and-white cookie with a cup of coffee. Now that carbs were no longer the enemy and still appetizing once she was fed, the possibilities were endless.

  Or she could just walk around and people-watch. It wasn’t like there was ever a shortage of that in the city.

  “Ma’am? Donna?”

  Donna blinked and looked at Louise. “Sorry. Lost in the clouds.”

  Louise looked relieved. “I thought maybe it was the total.”

  “Oh, no. I didn’t even hear you. How much is it?”

  Louise’s smile thinned a little painfully. “$6,627.19.”

  Donna knew she’d done a lot of shopping, but that was more than she’d anticipated. She tried to keep her cool, however. She took a breath and smiled. “Good thing I brought cash. You do take cash, don’t you?”

  “Uh…yes, of course.”

  Donna slipped about half the bills from the bundle still in her purse and counted them out until she had sixty-seven of them. “There you go.”

  It would be good to get some small bills back in change. Especially if she was going to a diner.

  Louise made the change and counted it back to Donna, then gave her a card. “If you ever need anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask for me.”

  “I’d be happy to.” Donna eyed the number of big brown Bloomie’s bags waiting on her. That wasn’t going to be an easy trip to the car. Then she remembered Yuri and realized it wasn’t going to be a problem after all.

  “Wonderful. Would you like me to call our concierge service and have them assist you with your packages?”

  That would be the human thing to do. But Donna wasn’t human anymore. “No, thanks,” she said. “I’ve got it.”

  Louise’s brows bent in concern. “Those bags are heavier than you think.”

  Donna pushed her purse strap onto her shoulder, then took an even number of bags in each hand, lifting them with ease. “I work out.”

  She turned, tossed a, “Thanks again,” over her shoulder, and headed out. She had no idea what the rest of her evening held, but she was ready for it.

  And she realized that she was ready for more than just tonight. Whatever the coming days brought, she would handle it. She hadn’t lasted this long or survived this much just to be knocked down by a life change.

  Even if that life change was becoming a vampire.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Donna spent another hour wandering the streets with a hot chocolate in hand. The city was beautiful in the evening, all lit up and sparkling. For a few minutes, she let herself fantasize about moving here instead of Florida. Buying a hip apartment downtown. Becoming one of the glamourous folk who shopped in boutiques and bought their groceries at the weekend farmers’ markets.

  It was fun to think about. But not realistic. The city was still too close to Big Tony. Even if Big Tony and most of his crew got locked up. Except there was no way Rico could get them all. Like Lucinda. She’d still be footloose and fancy-free.

  Donna really didn’t want to live within a hundred-mile radius of that woman. As far as she was concerned, their familial relationship had ended when Joe died. All they were now was ex-sisters-in-law. And Donna wanted distance. The kind that Florida could give her.

  A homeless man was tucked into the doorway of the building she was about to pass. She pulled a hundred off the dwindling bundle in her purse and dropped it in his cup.

  “Thanks, lady. God bless you.” He looked from the cup to her, his gaze suddenly narrowing.

  “You’re welcome,” she said.

  “Vampire,” he whispered.

  “What? No.” She shook her head and moved on quickly. Were her fangs out? Her eyes glowing? How had he known? She glanced over her shoulder.

  The man was still staring at her. His gaze held a hard, appraising gleam. Like he was telling her he’d keep her secret, but she’d better not try anything.

  She turned away and hurried down the street. In some ways, being a vampire felt a lot like being connected to the mob. Respect came from fear.

  That wasn’t something she liked. It also wasn’t something she could do anything about.

  She took the last sip of hot chocolate, then tossed the cup and checked the time. Twenty minutes until the group started. She looked at her map and headed in the direction of the meeting place, taking her time since she was only ten minutes away from the New Manhattan Health and Wellness Center, Floor twelve, Suite C.

  As she approached, she studied the building. Double glass doors, simple black granite façade, but that was about all she could see. The rest was covered in scaffolding since part of the building wa
s being remodeled.

  A little case of nerves settled over her as she walked through the covered sidewalk to the entrance and went to the elevator bank. She had no idea what to expect, but she knew one thing. She was about to be in a room with a bunch of other vampires.

  Right now, all she really knew about vampires was what she’d read in books and seen on TV and in movies. Claudette could tell Donna all day long not to buy into those things, but it wasn’t like flipping a switch. Those beliefs were ingrained in Donna. Probably in everyone.

  Vampires were part of the culture. No one really believed in them, but at the same time, there was something too real about them as well. And now that Donna knew better—and knew that there were other creatures in the world besides vampires—she realized that almost anything was possible.

  She took a breath and pushed the elevator call button, reminding herself that this was a support group she was going to. Everyone was there for the same reason. To get help dealing with this new phase of life.

  No one would be there for a free dinner. And even if they were, would one vampire actually attack another?

  She had no idea. More proof of how much she needed this group. And Claudette. But Donna was starting to wonder if that was a closed door. She hadn’t meant to send the woman packing permanently. It had just all been too much to take at the time.

  The elevator doors opened, and she got on, tapping the button for her floor.

  “Hold the doors,” a voice called out from the lobby.

  Donna put her hand out to keep them from closing. “Got them.”

  It took a moment, but at last, a petite little old woman made her way onto the elevator. She could have been Betty White’s younger sister. Same cloud of white curls, same twinkly eyes, same slightly naughty smile. “Thank you.”

  Donna’s hand hovered over the bank of buttons. “Floor?”

  “Twelve, please, honey.” The older woman was wearing a black velour tracksuit with a rhinestone zipper and bright white sneakers. Over the jacket, she wore a fluffy white fake fur vest.

  Twelve was already pushed, so Donna leaned back.

  The woman eyed her sharply.

  Donna smiled, studying her elevator companion right back. She realized she might have been wrong about the woman’s age. Everything about her indicated she was eighty to eighty-five, but Donna realized her skin was too smooth and firm to be that age.

  Or she’d had work done. If so, the doctor ought to win an award. Even so close, it was phenomenal.

  “You’re coming to the meeting, aren’t you?” the woman asked. She had a fanny pack around her waist, and the zipper wasn’t quite closed, revealing a crumpled tissue.

  “The meeting?” Donna wasn’t about to admit where she was headed. Not to this sweet, little old woman. Then she almost laughed at herself. There had to be all kinds of meetings going on in this building. It was a health and wellness center, after all.

  The woman stuck her hand out. “I’m Francine Werther.”

  Donna shook her hand, it was warm and soft and not the least bit leathery with age. “Donna Barrone. Nice to meet you, Francine.”

  “You too, kid.” The doors opened, and Francine started out. “Come on, Neo gets cranky if we start late.”

  Neo? Donna walked off the elevator, but shook her head. “I’m not—”

  “Yes, you are.” Francine didn’t even look back.

  Donna just kept walking, looking for Suite C. She found it, mostly because Francine was opening the door.

  Francine grinned at her. “Told you.”

  Donna’s brain couldn’t process the information it had just received. “You’re a…a…”

  Francine nodded. “Yep.” She went in, leaving Donna no choice but to follow.

  That sweet little old lady with the fanny pack was a vampire? Sure, that explained the skin, but the idea was so hard to compute that Donna started to wonder if she’d gotten the address right.

  A small foyer opened onto a larger setting that looked like a living room. A circle of six armchairs, upholstered in a navy paisley, took up most of the space. On one side was a credenza with a coffee service and bottled water set out. There was a small plate of cookies.

  A young black woman with black and purple braids twisted into one central braid atop her head like a mohawk was fixing a cup of coffee. She was in all black. Skinny jeans, T-shirt, sweater over that. All of it ripped or distressed in an artful way. Chunky lug-soled boots and silver jewelry added a street vibe that felt authentic.

  “Hi, Neo,” Francine called out. “We have a new one.”

  Neo nodded. “Sensed her when she came in.” The young woman turned and leaned against the credenza. She held her coffee with both hands, lifting it to her mouth so the steam rose past her eyes. She gave a little nod. “What’s up.”

  It wasn’t really a question, but Donna answered anyway. “Not sure, actually.”

  Neo snorted. “Then you’re in the right place.” She glanced at her watch, which looked more like a computer monitor with all the lines of data running across it. “Doc has three minutes.”

  “She’ll be here,” Francine said.

  Neo shrugged and slunk toward the chairs. She settled into one that put her back to the windows, then she hitched one leg over the arm and slouched down, holding her coffee in front of her like a shield.

  Donna took a bottle of water. She didn’t need it, but she might want it later, and she didn’t want to get up and disrupt the group. She took a chair one away from Neo.

  The suite door opened, and Dr. Goldberg walked in.

  Donna sat up a little. “La?”

  Dr. Goldberg looked at Donna and smiled. “Well, hello there.” She laughed softly. “This explains so much. Welcome to the group.”

  “Thanks. You run this group?” Wait, what had Claudette said about the woman in charge of the First Fangs Club? She was a third-level empath. Donna wasn’t entirely certain what that was, but the empath part made sense. Dr. Goldberg was great at her job as a therapist.

  “I do,” La answered.

  Another woman rushed in behind her. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “You’re always late,” Neo groused.

  The bottle blonde flicked her big dark eyes at Neo with a look that could have killed. “Maybe because I have a life.” Her accent sounded Puerto Rican or Dominican, maybe.

  “Ladies,” Dr. Goldberg cautioned, “this is a safe, civil space. Respect that, or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

  “Yeah,” the blonde added. Her skintight ankle jeans showed off some impressive curves, as did her equally tight, off-the-shoulder black top. Just like Francine, the woman wore a fake fur vest, but hers was long and shaggy and hot pink. She wore pink stiletto ankle booties to match. Even her nails, which were long and pointed, were the same vibrant shade.

  “Hoochie,” Neo muttered.

  “Nerd,” the blonde muttered back.

  “Ladies, last warning.” Dr. Goldberg’s voice held a stern tone Donna had never heard before.

  The blonde sniffed and went over to the credenza. She opened one of the cabinet doors, which housed a small fridge, and took out a Coke. Then she found a seat next to Francine, who’d put herself beside Donna.

  Dr. Goldberg sat between Donna and Neo. She took a notebook and pen out of her bag and set them on her lap. “Does anyone know if LaToya or Meghan are coming?”

  Francine leaned in. “Pretty sure Meghan has that charity ball tonight.”

  The blonde piped up. “And LaToya’s out of town this weekend with her boyfriend.”

  “All right, then, thank you, Francine and Bunni.” Dr. Goldberg opened her notebook. “We’ll get started, then.”

  Donna stared at the blonde. Had La actually called her Bunni? She didn’t look like a Bunni. Or maybe she did. Also, what kind of vampire name was Bunni?

  Dr. Goldberg smiled at all of them. “Welcome to the First Fangs Club. We have a new member this evening, so why don’t we go around and introduce ourselv
es? Neo, why don’t you start?”

  “Sure.” Neo’s slouch didn’t change. “I was turned three months ago. I have my own cybersecurity business, and I love long walks in dark alleys.” She grinned, having apparently amused herself.

  Bunni rolled her eyes, but the clockwise direction meant she was up next. She waved at Donna by wiggling just her fingers. “Hi. I’m Bunni Escobar.”

  That last name sounded familiar to Donna, but she didn’t know why, other than the obvious drug lord connection.

  “I was turned six months ago. I’m still trying to figure things out. Mostly, like, how not to kill my ex-boyfriend for getting me into this mess.” She smiled suddenly. “It’s not really a mess, though. It was, when I was first turned, but, like, I’m cool with it now, you know? I mean, we’re, like, killing machines. I mean, if we want to be. Which we don’t. But it’s still cool.”

  Donna nodded, not sure what else to do.

  Francine grinned at her. “I’m Francine Werther, as you know since we met in the elevator. I was turned close to seven months ago. I like crossword puzzles and baking. The best thing about being turned, well, there’s a lot of good things about it, but one of the things I really enjoy is how fast I can knit now. Also, not having every joint creak when I move is nice.”

  Donna grinned.

  “Oh!” Francine patted the arm of her chair. “And I was eighty-four when I was turned. Don’t I look amazing?”

  “You do,” Donna said.

  She nodded. “Isn’t that the craziest thing about all of this? What it does to the way you look? You should see my breasts. Like a twenty-year-old’s again.” She shook her head. “I have got to get a boyfriend. Well. Another one. I keep wearing them out.”

  Donna snorted. Francine was a riot.

  Dr. Goldberg turned to her. “All right, your turn.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Donna’s nerves suddenly returned for the silliest of reasons. She wanted these women to like her. Or at least to think she was cool enough to be friends with. For that reason, she used her full name. “I’m Belladonna Barrone.”

  The first name she’d struggled with for most of her life suddenly felt right in this context. Belladonna was a lot more vampirey than Bunni or Francine, that was for sure.