Kill Me

by Alex Owens

  I started the shower, overcome with the urge to wash away my immorality. I held my hand under the stream until the water felt deliciously hot and stepped in.

  Bette continued talking and I was surprised to realize that I could hear her just fine over the shower hum. An added benefit of being a vampire? I scrubbed quickly and cut off the water, then toweled off and dressed.

  “Let me see, what else. Oh, garlic does not harm us. We have a delicate sense of smell and strong odors can be overpowering, so we avoid them.”

  I came out of the bathroom and Bette eyed my fitted t-shirt. I might have been imagining it, but I could swear my boobs were bigger, or at least a little perkier. “Okay, how about the sunlight?”

  Bette chuckled, “Come sit with me.” She patted the bed beside her.

  “Hang on a second; I need to check my email.” I pulled back the desk chair, opened my laptop and booted it up. While I waited for the machine to come to life, I turned back to Bette. “Sunlight?”

  “Do not believe all that you see on television or read in books. Entertainment, in any form, often lies for the sake of the story. You will not burst into flames in the sun, nor will you sparkle like a Fairy.”

  “Good to know. Wait, Fairies exist too?” I wondered at my naive understanding of the world. What else was out there, bustling around under the noses of Normals?

  “Yes, and they are numerous. Full of mischief and mayhem, if you ask me. Never trust a fairy,” she warned.

  My computer finally awake, I opened my email client and quickly scanned through the dozen or so emails waiting for me. They all could wait until later. The obvious junk I deleted unread.

  “Okay, so never eat from the dead, avoid strong scents, and never trust a Fairy. But how will I know who is a fairy?” I asked.

  “It can be very hard to tell sometimes,” Bette seemed to be thinking. “Most people will feel oddly drawn to them, but with you that may not help.”

  Yet another example where my gifts might muddy the waters. Perfecto!

  Bette continued, “You may feel a strange sensation when they look at you intently, like they are poking around in your brain.” Bette poked her fingers at me and scrunched up her face.

  It was so cute I wanted to kiss her. Was I falling for her? I couldn’t think about that. “Anything else?”

  Bette nodded and continued, “They tend to eat more fruits and vegetables than the average person; perhaps it’s their closeness with nature. But, the best sign is their aversion to blood. In a way, they are the opposites of us. We are dark, they are light. We crave blood, they abhor it.”

  I still wasn’t sure how much of a threat these Fairies could be to me, but Bette seemed so serious while she spoke of them that I vowed to take her warnings to heart.

  “Now, the sun will affect you. At least it should...” Bette let her words trail off, not wanting to state the obvious, that I was some sort of freak.

  “So what will the sun do to me?” I logged onto my bank account and my stomach dropped. As I looked at my pitifully low bank balance, I remembered wondering where Pete was going to get the money for his own place. The good news is that I didn’t have to wonder anymore. The bad news was that Pete had cleaned out our account. Well, damn.

  “To vampires, the sun is like a big oven. It dehydrates us very fast, to the point where you could find yourself tearing swept into a frenzy of bloodlust. It can also give you very bad sunburn. If you have to go out in the sun, eat well beforehand, cover as much of your skin as you can and get back into the shadows as quickly as possible. Oh, and expect to be very tired afterward.”

  Well, that sounded pleasant. I’d have to make like a normal vamp and keep myself in the dark as much as possible. Of course without enough money in my account to pay the light bill, it looked like I’d be sitting in the dark anyway.

  I snapped my laptop shut and joined Bette on the bed, feeling deflated again. Pete was still screwing things up for me.

  “So I can still work? That’s great, because my ex just stole all of my savings.” I tried to downplay my hurt and anger, but inside I was floored. How could he do that to me? More importantly, how could he do that to his daughter? He’d taken the food right out of her mouth and the shoes off her feet.

  And yes, as far as I was concerned, Pete was my ex— as in over and done with, past-tense. I’d tried for far too long to salvage our marriage and that well had finally run dry, as had my patience.

  “Ah, that brings me to another issue, that of your inheritance.” Bette clasped my hands with her own, her eyes twinkling with something that bordered on giddiness.

  “Huh? I don’t have any inheritance. My parents both died years ago and they barely managed to make ends meet their entire lives. Their savings amounted to a few hundred bucks.” Which Pete promptly spent on some stupid sports memorabilia. It hurt bringing that up, so I closed the door on that subject, while I could still avoid the pain. “But, I don’t want to talk about that.”

  “I wasn’t referring to your parents. You see, it is like this: a vampire cannot in good conscience bring over another into their fold with making adequate provisions.” Bette looked at me eagerly, waiting for the moment when I understood what she was hinting at.

  I was confused and I’m sure it showed on my face. “You sound like a lawyer, Bette.”

  “I have studied the law over the years. You’d be surprised at what you will have the time to master.” Bette smiled, like a cat that ate the canary. “What I mean is that I will provide for you. You will have a trust that is being set up as we speak. It should be adequate until you begin to build your own fortune.”

  I pulled my hands away from hers, a sour feeling in my stomach. “I don’t want your money, I was just venting...just complaining, that’s all.” My face flushed at the thought of needing charity. I’d never asked for a handout in my entire life, and I wasn’t about to start. My parents raised me better that that.

  She pulled my hands back, bringing me closer to her. She smelled like fresh rain on a forest floor. I inhaled slowly, savoring the scent. I leaned closer without realizing it. She was sucking me in again.

  “It is done. And we do it this way because being a Vampire is sort of like a disability when it comes to living. Until you get used to it, you are at a disadvantage. You will have several lifetimes to pad your accounts, but until then, you needn’t worry about finances.” She stroked my hair, relaxing me to the core. I leaned into the weight of her.

  “But now we need to speak of more practical things,” she said.

  “Wait, how much money are we talking? Not that it matters, but...” I let my voice trail off. I felt like a loser, but if it was enough to pay the mortgage ahead a few months I’d be happy.

  “Just a modest fund, roughly a few million American dollars.” Bette tossed the number out there so nonchalantly that I was momentarily stunned.

  “Is that all?” I bolted up right, using humor to fill the moment. Un-freaking-believable!

  Bette missed my joke yet again. “Is that not enough? I can wire in more if you think you will need it.”

  My god, she was serious. Exactly how rich was she?

  “No, Bette. It was a joke.” I dropped the comedian act. “Whatever you want to give me, I promise I will pay it back as soon as I’m able.”

  “Nonsense, it is my gift to you. Case closed. Now I assume that you will have no help from your husband, correct?”

  I nodded, not wanting to verbalize all the ways that Pete had let me down. It was a long list, and one that I was tired of wasting energy on. And after the bank account thing, thinking about him made me want to hurt him. I didn’t want my mind getting too comfortable with those types of thoughts. I would never be anything like Clive.

  “So, you have a child, which will make things difficult. You need a nanny now and Morgan seems to have taken to you, plus you can trust her now. What do you think of taking her home with you to Virginia?”

  Bette was serious, which was plain crazy.
Did she really want me to kidnap the girl? Have a stripper help me to raise my daughter? Seriously?

  “Of course, we will ask her and I’ll compensate her well. She won’t have to dance for strangers any longer.” Bette argued, even though I’d voiced no argument. Sometimes it was like she read my mind.

  “But I don’t even know her! What if she’s horrible with children? What if she teaches Quinn to pole-dance or drop-it-like-it’s-hawt?”

  Bette frowned at my pop culture reference and dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “Please consider it, Clara. We do not have the convenience of time on our side. You have must have help before you go home,” Bette said.

  Since she’d put it that way, it made a little more sense. I would need help because of the whole daylight thing. Who else would pick up Quinn from school? Or stay with her if I needed to go out at night? For that matter, there would be a lot I wouldn’t be able to do where Quinn was concerned.

  A dark mood swept over me and I began to count the ways where my life was completely screwed. And to think two days ago I’d thought my life sucked lemons. Being a single mom with a douche-bag Ex was a cake walk compared to this.

  “Don’t frown, mi amore, I only have your best interests in mind. Trust me, I have good instincts. I chose you, didn’t I?”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Ask Morgan, and if she says yes, we can figure out the details from there.” I bit my lip.

  “You have good instincts too. You only take to the good-hearted. Have you noticed that?”

  No, I hadn’t really noticed that. I’d chosen Pete and we all know how that had turned out. I decided to change the subject, to something that had just begun to bother me.

  “It is safe for me to go home, isn’t it?” I hugged up to Bette, nuzzling into the creamy skin of her neck. “I know I’m not normal, but I won’t be a danger to my daughter right?”

  I held my breath while Bette pondered my question. If she said there was even a chance of Quinn being in danger, I couldn’t go back. It would break my heart, but I’d have no other option.

  Bette finally spoke after kissing me lightly on the forehead. “I believe you are fully in control. I knew the moment you woke up this morning that you had taken the change differently, or it hadn’t happened at all. It is why I felt it was safe for us to go to the conference, though I did keep a close eye on you just in case.”

  “You were spying on me?” I pouted with mock indignation.

  “Not spying Clara, protecting you. Though I will admit to watching a little more intently when you were with that guitar-playing woman.” I heard Bette sigh.

  “Oh, really? Why is that?” I feigned ignorance.

  Bette tilted my face up to hers. “Because she is interested in you. You know, for a relationship.”

  I laughed before I could stop myself. “I don’t think so. She’s nice and all, but it’s safe to say that she’s not my type. I may not know what my type is, but Vera is definitely not it.”

  Bette pulled away from me, sitting up and looking into my eyes. “Am I your type, Clara?”

  “I don’t know what my type is anymore.” Bette looked at me with sadness, so I hurried to explain. “I’ve never considered being with a woman. I just wasn’t raised to even think that was a possibility. But now...” I shrugged.

  She smiled at me, her pupils going inky-black again. You would think that would be unnerving to see, but like Pavlov’s dog, I knew what that meant and my body responded on a carnal level.

  Bette tugged my shirt up over my head and threw it on the floor. She traced her fingers over my collar bone before pushing me back on the bed, tracing down my abdomen and back up the sensitive skin of my sides with her pale fingers. My body tingled in response. I closed my eyes and relaxed, letting my mind go blank.

  She laid down beside me, planting kisses on my stomach and chest, her silken hair brushing over my skin in waves. I pulled her face up to mine and we kissed slowly, tenderly. My eyes opened and I was pulled into the tide of our connection. We were swirling in a gentle eddy, floating over lapping tides, rocking to the rhythm of the waves.

  I didn’t know where things were going with Bette. Did I have feelings for her? Did she think of me as more than just a meal? Could I handle being a single-mom, vampire lesbian? Thinking made my head hurt, so I stopped.

  Bette climbed on top, straddling me as she slipped her sheath dress over her head. I should have been surprised by the fact that Bette wore no undergarments, but I wasn’t. It seemed so like her and it did add a layer of convenience to things. She laid over me; the only thing separating us was my thin yoga pants. I wiggled, trying to get her to pull them off. I needed full skin to skin contact badly.

  “Patience, we have the rest of the night,” Bette soothed. “But first, I need to shower.”

  I pulled Bette to her feet. “Please do. All I can smell is Miss Georgia-peach.”

  Chapter 17

  I awoke to cool sheets in an otherwise empty bed. Bette was gone and while I was disappointed, I didn’t let it get me down. I lay there for several minutes, stretching my body across the bed and plumping the goose-down pillow under my head. I let the events of the night before skip across my memory.

  Gregor and the steamy, hot feeding. Blush worthy, for sure.

  I wouldn’t go as far as to say I’d never had a one-night stand; I did go to college after all. But I’d never in a gazillion years ever thought I’d find myself boinking a hot Vamp with other strange people in the room in full view. What kind of freak had I become?

  I shook my head and forced myself to think of anything else but my eventual stoning. Rewinding the night back to getting dropped in the parking lot of the club seemed a safer place to start. I chuckled at the memory of walking into my very first strip club; if the other soccer moms could have seen me—well, they’d probably stake me. After gleaning all the juicy details, that is.

  Goodbye, prudish-me. Hello.... well, something entirely different.

  I’d always thought of nudie-bars as places that lonely, perverted men frequented in search of temporary affection. While that may be true, it’s so much more than that. For starters, it’s the one place where appreciation of the female body is openly accepted. Other than stuffy museums or art galleries, where else can you do that without someone judging you?

  Maybe it was the tiny bits of vampire DNA that had merged with my own, but I felt much more open-minded. As a recently separated, newly-bisexual career woman with some sort of psychic talents and a penchant for drinking blood, I really couldn’t afford to throw stones, you know?

  I glanced at the clock. It was a quarter to eight in the morning. I’d only been asleep for a couple of hours. Despite that, I felt great. Hopefully, being all vampy meant not needing to sleep your life away just to be pleasant around others. Maybe, if I was exceedingly lucky, my dreams would stay gone as well. I hadn’t had one since the night-I-don’t-remember, so I had high hopes.

  I eased out of bed and crossed to the table at the corner of the room. A single crisp sheet of paper lay beside a silver ice bucket. A dark bottle was nestled deep in the melting ice cubes. I picked up the note and read it aloud, imitating Bette’s luscious accent.

  Good morning, I hope you had a pleasant rest. I have some business to attend to, but I left for you something to eat, in the event you are hungry. I shall return near lunch and perhaps we can go to the convention for a few hours. ~ Elizabetta

  I placed the note down and lifted the bottle out of the bucket. Errant water droplets splashed to the table and I wiped them away with my hand. I twisted off the silver cap and inhaled the tangy scent of blood. It tickled my nose and I wanted to gulp all of it down. Instead, I recapped the bottle and dropped it back into its ice bath.

  I felt too much like a junkie seeking a score. I wasn’t even hungry. Besides, I didn’t seem to be like the other vampires, so it was time I tested myself to see just how different I was. I’d skip the blood drinking for however long I could without going sc
ary-hungry. I was taking the Stay Thirsty, My Friend commercial a little too seriously.

  Maybe I’d try out the sun thing. I remembered Bette’s warning about not going out in the sun on an empty stomach, but I wasn’t worried. I felt fine, actually, I felt more than fine. I felt fabulous.

  I slipped into the bathroom for a quick shower to wash away the grime from the night before. I thought about everything I’d seen and heard. I thought about everything I’d done. I didn’t even let the morality of any of it weigh on my mind. What was morality anyway, but someone else’s ideals shoved down the throats of others? I was intelligent enough to make my own decisions about right and wrong, thank you very much.

  Besides, it was done. I couldn’t rewind time and change my actions. The best I could do was to try and do better in the future.

  After showering and drying myself off, I decided to go ahead and dress for the day even though I was beginning to like walking around nude for no reason. Silly, I know, but it made me feel sexy and mysterious.

  I chose a low-cut pair of fitted jeans, a strapless bra and a turquoise embroidered halter top for the day. Normally, I feel too self-conscious about my body to wear anything that showed that much skin. I mean, I wasn’t overweight or out of shape. It was my chest.

  I’d developed earlier than my friends and long after they had settled into B’s, I was busting out the seams in my C-cups. As an adult, I hid my D-cups with carefully selected clothing, but something more revealing, like the tube-top I slid on, left little to the imagination, especially when juxtaposed with rest of my hourglass body.

  At the moment, I didn’t care what anyone thought of me. It felt great. Dressed and makeup done, I slipped on a pair of silver sandals to match the clunky silver bangle I slid over my wrist and left my room to do a little bit of exploring.

  The hotel lobby was bustling. I assumed it was due to this being the last day of the conference. Everybody was up and at ‘em to make the most of the last day. I didn’t feel the same pressure. My first two days had proven very successful and this last day was one that I wanted to enjoy.