The Mammoth Book of Vampire Romance

by Trisha Telep

  “Been in one.”

  “I saw it, had nothing to do with my world. But you were good.” I added.

  “You’re lovely when you’re bullshitting. What happened to the evil one who turned you?”

  “I don’t know if he was evil.”

  “He was a Mob hit man.”

  His indignation was adorable. “I’ll concede his profession was evil.”

  “You’ve never done anything like that.”

  His certainty of my goodness was even ore adorable. “No, I haven’t,” I assured him. “But after a while wrestling with all the implications of immortality you get some perspective on good, evil, expediency, stuff like that. And no, I haven’t seen him again. At least, not that I know of. I didn’t get a good look at him while he was sucking the lifeblood out of me.”

  “But how did you survive? Didn’t you have a teacher, a mentor? Didn’t another vampire bring you into the dark world?”

  I laughed and stroked his cheek. “I suppose there’s melodrama somewhere, but I’ve never been involved in any – other than being rubbed out by a mobster, which I did find pretty melodramatic at the time.”

  He traced his hand up and down my back, sending tingling shivers all through me. His sympathy warmed me even more than his touch. “I’m sorry you went through such trauma. How did you survive?”

  “I found the right bar and ordered a beer. Getting all the blood drained out of you makes you thirsty.”

  “It was a vampire bar?”

  I nodded.

  “Did some instinct kick in that drew you to your own kind and they taught you how to survive?”

  I nodded again. He was smart and quick on the uptake. The man had many great qualities. And he could dance in a way that made me feel like I was having sex standing up, fully clothed, without ruffling a hair or breaking a sweat. Not that vampires sweat. “I’ve explained me,” I said. “How about you? How did you get here? Wherever here is.”

  “That is the problem isn’t it? We seem to be dancing in limbo. Though I like being here with you.”

  From anyone else, any other time, I would have considered that a line. But his eyes held genuine pleasure, genuine sincerity.

  “I’m falling like a rock, you know,” I told him.

  “Me too. Is that a bad thing?”

  We both shrugged, and that became part of the dance. We laughed together, and that was part of the music.

  “As for me,” he went on. “I remember being with friends at their house. We played Scrabble.”

  I love word games. “Scrabble? Is that any way for a movie star to spend his evening?”

  “Now you know why the paparazzi hate me. I lead a quiet life.”

  “Me too. But how did you get here?”

  We danced in silence for a while. I watched as every possible emotion crossed his face.

  He finally said, “It has something to do with ice cream.” He looked deep into my eyes. “Is that crazy?”

  “Probably,” I told him. “But much of life makes no sense.”

  “Life and death? Am I dead?”

  I pulled him close and we stood still in the centre of the gazebo for a long time, holding each other tight, giving comfort amidst the frightening questions that had no answers.

  “You’re so good for me,” he said at last. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “Everyone knows yours.” I gave a faint, sad laugh. “No one really knows mine any more. I became Serephena back in my hippie phase.”

  It was his turn to laugh, at me, but not mockingly. “Oh, no, that won’t do. That name isn’t you. It’s a flighty name. You’re solid and strong and grounded.”

  It was like he was giving me back myself. “Stella,” I admitted. “My name is Stella.”

  His smile was a blessing. It was sunshine. It was . . .

  I awoke as I always did, at the moment the sun went down. It was normally the most pleasant moment of the night. This time I woke with an anguished shout. I lay on my back with my eyes squeezed shut and tried to will myself back to sleep. That didn’t work, of course. All I ended up doing was crying, and the tears that rolled down onto the pillowcase made a disgusting mess – vampire tears having blood mixed in with the saltwater.

  I stripped the bed, threw the sheets in the laundry and paced around restlessly for a while wondering what the hell was going on in my head. Was I going senile? Worst of all, loneliness welled up in me and grief shook me and the heartache . . .

  The heartache was a very real sensation. Physical pain radiated out of the core of my being where my shattered soul ached for the loss of half my being.

  Or something like that.

  I hurt. I really emotionally and physically hurt from what I knew had only been a dream. It took a couple of hours before I could get myself together enough to head off to the Alhambra in the hope of staving off the painful loneliness.

  There wasn’t a huge crowd at the club, but the place was jumping when I showed up. Everybody was gathered around the bar, abuzz with conversation.

  I spotted Tiana and went up to her. “What happened?”

  “Anton went up in flames this morning,” she answered.

  “Why’d he do a thing like that without having a goodbye party first?” I asked. Anton was the bartender. He lived on the second floor. Used to.

  “He didn’t want to make a fuss.”

  “How’d it happen?”

  “Usual way. He walked outside to see the dawn.”

  It happens. Every few decades the urge to end eternity gets hold of a vampire. I hadn’t succumbed to the depression yet, but the way I was feeling tonight I sympathized with Anton’s choice. I wasn’t sure my usual panacea of show shopping was going to be enough.

  “Did anyone sweep up the ashes?”

  “Oh, yes,” Tiana answered. “He’s already in a nice urn over the bar with a sticky-note reminder to sprinkle some blood on him in a year or two. The problem is what are we going to do for a bartender now?”

  Blood brings us back and we are usually ready to carry on after an ash vacation. I wasn’t in the mood to join in the ‘what are we going to do to replace Anton?’ discussion occupying everyone else’s attention, but I did manage to elbow my way to a seat at the bar. I found myself looking up at the television overhead.

  The local news was still dwelling on last night’s multi-car crash. Slow news night, I supposed. “Isn’t there a gang war or a car chase you could cover?” I complained to the television. “I’m bored.”

  “You don’t feel bored,” Tiana said, coming up beside me. “You’re unhappy. I don’t mean to snack on your emotions,” she added when I glared at her. “You know I can’t help it. Why are you unhappy? Anton?”

  I snorted. “May he rest in peace, but I don’t give a damn about Anton,” I turned my glare back on the TV screen. “What’s so important about last night’s car crash?”

  “Four people died on scene,” she said. “Everybody else is hospitalized, most of them in critical condition. But the real reason the networks are still covering it is –”

  Her timing was perfect, because at that moment his picture appeared on the screen.

  “Oh, good God!” My heart felt like a knife had been plunged into it.

  Tiana’s hand touched my shoulder. “I know you’re a fan, but –”

  “He’s not dead! Tell me he isn’t dead?”

  I only realized I was shaking her when she shouted, “Stop it! Let go of me!”

  I did. I pointed at the television. “That’s the man in my dream.”

  “The man of your dreams? He’s an actor you’ve got a crush on.”

  “I do not get crushes. And I mean he’s the man that was in my dream last day. We were dancing.”

  “Vampires don’t dream. And he was in intensive care while you were sleeping.”

  The relief might have killed me if that were possible. As it was, it felt like I was having a heart attack. “Intensive care? So he isn’t dead?”

  “Not
yet, but it’s only a matter of time.” She glanced at the face of the reporter now on the screen. “His death-watch is what all the media fuss is about. They’re worse ghouls than I am.”

  I automatically patted her shoulder, knowing that this admission hurt her pride, but my mind was racing on another matter. It hadn’t been a dream. Somehow, it hadn’t been a dream. He’d been there and I’d been there, only where the hell was there? “How did it happen?”

  “He and some friends were going out for ice cram when they ended up in the pile-up and the car went off the side of the mountain. He was the only survivor, but he’s on life support and he’s been declared brain dead.”

  “His brain isn’t dead,” I said. “It’s been out dancing.” I was sure this was true. We’d been in telepathic contact. But how?

  I heard the voice in my head again that had speared into my brain back at the crash site. Help me! Where are you?

  “Of course! He’s psychic. He called out for help when we were up at the crash, and I answered him! That’s how we met!” I grabbed Tiana’s cold grey hand. “Come on, ghoul-friend!”

  “Where are we going?” she asked as I pulled her towards the door.

  I laughed, all my depression blown away by exaltation. “To the rescue, of course!”

  “We’re here. Now what?” Tiana asked as we moved across the ER waiting room.

  “Go up to the ICU,” I answered. “And take him home.”

  “He’s on life support. There’s probably cops and private security in the halls.”

  “I’ll take care of them. All you have to do is create a diversion.”

  She licked her lips and nodded. Her skin was flushed to an almost-normal human colour. This was one of her feeding grounds and she’d shown me where to sneak in. It had been easy, even with the circus in the streets.

  Outside the media and fan frenzy was as thick and chaotic as I’d ever seen it in all my decades of dwelling in this town. There were news vans sprouting satellite and lighting equipment and chuffing power generators. Reporters looked solemnly into cameras as they spoke. Paparazzi were as thick as roaches in a tenement. Helicopters circled. Cops held a crowd back beyond a cordon surrounding the hospital. People held signs and candles and flowers. Some were singing the theme song from one of his movies.

  I wondered if what I was doing was any less ridiculous than the behaviour of his grieving fans.

  In the ER people were bleeding and screaming and crying through their own problems. It was quiet and peaceful compared to what was going on outside. No one paid any attention as we made our way through a wide doorway, down a hallway and to a door past a row of elevators. You learn to take the stairs when you want to live an under-the-radar life.

  “There are three people ready to die here,” Tiana said after we reached the critical-care floor and slipped into an empty room. She looked sad. Hey, she’s a ghoul, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t a kind person.

  “Can you work with that?” I asked. Hey, I’m a vampire, remember? She nodded. She prefers living off residual death energy instead of any direct involvement. “I hate doing the soul-sucking thing, but, yeah, there’s nothing that can be done for any of them.”

  “Is my guy one of the three?” I asked worriedly.

  She looked thoughtful, then shook her head. “Low energy, but stable. Now let me get to work.”

  I backed out of the room as she opened her mouth for one of those screams that only the dying could heat. The dying would give up their energy to the ghoul when they heard that sound.

  Pretty soon there was almost as much activity on this floor of the hospital as there was outside. Alarms went off at the nursing station, crash carts were hurried into rooms. There was running and shouting, and I moved unnoticed to the room with the guard outside the door.

  The guard wasn’t a problem. I made him look into my eyes and he was instantly stunned.

  “Is there a security camera in there?” I asked.

  “No. There’s a nurse,” he volunteered.

  “Tell the nurse to respond to the code blues. Follow the nurse and volunteer to help.” I hoped that was enough of an excuse to keep the guard from getting into too much trouble when I kidnapped his charge. I rushed into his room at once.

  Inside the door I stopped with my mouth hanging open. The man on the bed was hooked up to so many tubes and gadgets I didn’t know how to start freeing him. I didn’t have much time, so I whispered an apology for any pain I caused him and started ripping and pulling the life-support equipment off him. Trails of his blood stained my clothes when I picked him up. The scent and warmth of it was intoxicating, but I fought off the sudden bloodlust. My fangs ached like a virgin’s on her first hunt as I carried him away with me.

  His weight was no problem, but I’m a small woman and he’s a very tall man. Carrying him was awkward, but you manage what you have to.

  I took him downstairs, through the closed cafeteria and to a courtyard garden beyond it where I set him down gently beneath a squat palm tree. I sat beside him and settled his head in my lap. My fingers touched his temples.

  Are you there?

  You came for me! His voice called from so far away I barely sensed it.

  Do you want to live? I asked. You know I’m a vampire. I will try to change you if you want me to. Think carefully before you choose.

  In the long silence that followed I had to fight very hard to keep my fangs from sinking into his flesh. I’d never been so aroused by the scent of blood before, but I wasn’t going to taste a drop without his permission. He had to make the choice.

  I thought I’d have to be Wallachian, his thought came at last.

  You’re part Hungarian. There’s a chance you’ll change.

  It depends on if my grandmas got raped by the right sort of invaders?

  Pretty much.

  I’ll die otherwise, won’t I?

  Yes, but that shouldn’t ne why you choose to become a blood drinker, a nightwalker, an exile from every part of the daylight world.

  It really isn’t all that bad being a vampire, but there are difficulties and the lifestyle should not be glamorized for potential newbies. No matter how much you want to share a coffin with them.

  Can I stay with you if I change?

  My heart sang at his question. And, oh, how my fangs ached! Yes, I told him. For as long as you want. For ever if you want.

  Forever sounds good to me. Do it.

  Remember that it might not take. That –”

  Shut up and bite me.

  I couldn’t argue with that. So I did.

  And I’d never had a rush like it in all my years of sucking the good stuff! I couldn’t count the orgasms that shook me before every drop of him was flowing inside me.

  I didn’t have to share my blood with him. Some sort of enzyme in my saliva was transferred to him from the bite and the enzyme would trigger the change if it were going to happen. But just in case, I bit my wrist and poured a few drops of my blood into his mouth. Not that he was capable of swallowing. At this point he was essentially dead. He’d either get better or I’d have to dispose of his body in a way that the marks on his throat would never be seen.

  I didn’t want to think about disposal. I didn’t want to think of him ever being dead. I held his limp body and felt it grow heavier and colder, and I worried and cried those disgusting blood-drenched vampire tears. I don’t know for how long. Long enough for my mood to turn bleak and heartbroken.

  Long enough for me to be aware that the sun would be up in an hour or so.

  There’s an almost physical pressure on the skin the closer daylight comes. Normally I’d be starting to think about getting to cover. Instead, I vowed I’d stay here and let the sun take me if he didn’t come around before the end of the night. I didn’t care if my ashes blew away so far there wouldn’t be anything left of me. Perhaps the fire that took me would burn him as well and our ashes would blend together.

  Sentimental, aren’t you?

  I he
ard the thought but it took a long time before I came out of my grief enough to realize that the voice wasn’t my imagination.

  “You’re alive!”

  Don’t shout. I have a hangover. That’s not right. My throat hurts. I’m thirsty. My mouth tastes like sweet copper.

  “That’s my blood. You’re alive,” I repeated, the words whispered in his ear as I helped him sit up. “You’re a vampire.”

  “I guess the right Cossacks raped my grandmas.”

  His voice was a rough croak, but the most delicious sound I’d ever heard. He struggled to his feet and insisted on giving me his hand to help me up. Living or dead, he was always a gentleman. When I was on my feet his arms came around me. He was weak enough that I ended up holding him up as we embraced.

  “We could dance like this for ever,” He said.

  I sighed romantically. “We could.” I looked around. “We could if the sun wasn’t coming up soon. We need to get out of here.”

  He cupped my cheek and looked at me with his new night vision. “You’re as beautiful as I dreamed you were, my Stella. Thank you for saving me, thank you for being with me now and for ever.”

  There’s no way a girl can’t respond to that. I kissed him, and he kissed back and it was real and deep and better than any dream. After a while he lifted his head and gave a dry, hacking cough. “Sorry. Thirsty.”

  I put my arm around his waist and helped him to the garden door. “I know just the place where we can get a beer. Now that you’ve changed you can find it on your own.”

  “I’d rather go with you.”

  You have no idea how much that meant to me.

  Tiana met us outside the cafeteria and guided us along her secret route out of the hospital and away from the crowd. He noticed all the fuss as we drove away, he and I squeezed into the trunk of Tiana’s car.

  “You have no idea how happy I am to leave the celebrity era of my life behind,” he told me.

  “You’ll miss acting.”

  “I’ll think of a way to get back to it. Do vampires work? Do I need a job?”

  “I’m a real-estate mogul. You can live off me. Wait –” I’d remembered Anton. “The place we’re heading, the Alhambra Club, needs a bartender. I know the owner. That would be me. If you’re interested.”