“You’ve got a look to you.”
“No… not going there. I’m taken, too. Just having a bunch of weird, awkward questions dance around my head. Not personal.”
“You’re pretty new, aren’t ya? You feel like a chick right out the egg.”
I shrug. “Yeah, basically. If a morgue cooler counts as an egg. It’s been about nine months.”
“You get any since?”
“Yeah,” I say before thinking about it. No idea why it came out so easily. Don’t really know this guy. “Not the question I had in mind. I mean… beyond wondering why vampires still even have those urges.”
“We do.”
“Obviously.” I laugh. “Went almost a month without it and was totally fiending.”
“You look so wholesome,” says Jermaine in a sarcastic tone.
“Looks can be deceiving.”
“Preach, girl.” He high-fives me.
I swipe my hair out of my eyes. Oh, hell with it. He’s being super casual. “Something I’ve been wondering for a while now. Do, umm… things work the same way for guys? Obviously, there are differences between us. I mean strictly with guys pre and post vampire.”
“You’re asking about a vampire’s post.”
I snicker. “Guilty.”
He chuckles. “Nah. Way different after the Transference. Much more intense. The peak lasts a good few minutes instead of like four seconds. Also, there’s no—uhh, how can I put it politely?”
“No fluids involved?”
Jermaine snaps his fingers. “Good phrasing. Exactly. It’s all mental energy. A guy vampire’s no longer at the mercy of physiology. Don’t gotta try to make the buildup last longer so it ain’t all over after a brief explosion of pleasure, an’ they go straight to sleep.”
“Hah.”
“It’s a spiritual experience after the Transference, if you believe in that sort of thing. Speakin’ as a guy, it’s more exhausting now, but oh, so worth it.” He elbows me suggestively. “You thinkin’ of givin’ boys a try?”
I pause, wondering what about me made him assume I’m into women. My secondary alter ego is Oblivious Girl. Other than people who give off obvious flags, whatever subtle cues exist are utterly lost on me. And no, it doesn’t bother me he thought it, merely caught me by surprise. Probably thinks because I’m clueless about vampire men I’ve never done it with a guy. “Already am. I’ve got a boyfriend, but… he’s alive.”
“Aww, honey. Adorable.” Jermaine takes an off ramp. Looks like we’ve gone right out into the desert, even though we’re not too far from San Diego. “Best you avoid gettin’ with a vampire boi or your current squeeze won’t do it for you anymore.” He shakes his head. “Mmm mmn mmn!”
Eep. I bite my lip, kinda frightened at the idea of how wild doing it with a vampire would be. Considering the intensity of making love to Hunter now, if another vampire is more intense? Wow. No damn wonder Aurélie messed Ashley up for weeks. I mean, she’s used to being with another girl, so having a partner who can go off multiple times and keep at it for over an hour isn’t new to her. But, vampire adds a whole new level.
I can’t even imagine a guy able to continue going for so long without a sudden, erm, ‘explosive’ loss of interest. Almost makes me tired thinking about it. Meh. Doesn’t matter for me anyway. Hunter and I are in love, not merely hooking up for sex. If I ever get involved with another guy, it’s going to be after he’s been swallowed by time… and it’ll probably be a vamp so I don’t have to constantly dwell on running out of time or ruining his life.
“Oh, my bad.” Jermaine smiles. “You’re in love. Can feel it on ya. All good. Don’t you go rushin’ anything. All pleasures come in time.”
I groan.
He shifts his gaze to me, confused.
“Come in time? We’re talking about sex…” I chuckle. “Nice dad joke.”
Jermaine laughs, slapping the steering wheel. “Heh. Didn’t even mean it that way. You got a dirty mind, honey.”
“Who, me?” I sit as demurely as possible. “I’m Innocent.”
He wags his eyebrows at me as if to say, ‘sure you are.’ “Ahh. Here we are.”
25
A Lady of Fine Social Standing
Cassandra Upton’s house looks like one of those places you see on the show where everyone’s always buying houses way too nice for normal humans to afford.
Hi, I’m Amanda and this is my husband Chad. I paint bunny rabbits on seashells and my husband studies the migratory patterns of African sand fleas. Our budget is five million. Gotta agree with Dad here. How can anyone watch that show without their brain liquefying and running out their ears? I feel dumber for even thinking of it. It’s like the brain-eating pablum the society in Fahrenheit 451 pumped into citizens’ houses all day to keep the vapid upper class in a permanent trance of obliviousness.
So, yeah. Cassandra’s house is huge. Only one story, sort of adobe-inspired, but if authenticity in architecture was food, this is the house equivalent of Taco Bell. Still, despite being obviously modern—lots of glass—it’s nice. Too much, though. Unless Cassandra has a huge family, there’s no reason a single person needs a house the size of a suburban grade school.
Wonder if she uses the pool.
Oops. Wait. I need to push all these negative thoughts deep into the back of my psyche. Cassandra got her Transference in the 1800s. She’s definitely old enough to force her way into my head and see what I’m thinking. Bad form to go in there having sarcastic thoughts about how she’s flaunting her wealth. And hey, for all I know, a house like this out here in the middle of nowhere is cheap. Wait, no. What am I saying? This is California. An outhouse shed would cost as much as my family’s home.
Assuming, of course, she paid anything for it. Vampires cheat.
Jermaine parks close to the front door on a cute little ring road surrounding a dome-shaped mound covered in mini cactuses and an acacia tree. I get out of the car, close my eyes, and spend a minute concentrating on what I saw in the former funeral home. No way am I going to be able to hide my concern for the Peters’ boys from Cassandra if she looks hard enough. Frustrating thing about true feelings is they tend to bubble to the surface on their own. Like trying to hold a mass of Styrofoam peanuts underwater using your bare hands. The harder you try to hold onto them, the more they disperse.
Kill-feeding vampires are bad news. Everyone agrees on it, though not for the same reasons. I’m the ‘squishy’ sort of person who thinks it’s wrong to kill. But the cold ones like Paolo can also appreciate a reckless kill-feeder will attract too much attention to the vampire community. Even if a particular undead doesn’t object to the concept of killing their meals, they have to appreciate the risk. It’s not illegal for a person to have a baby, but there’s only so many times they can throw the kid’s dirty diapers through their neighbor’s window before the police get involved.
Not speaking from personal experience there. Just saying. Leave too many corpses lying around and it’s going to attract attention. Sure, in this particular situation, the psychos have the advantage of an easy way to dispose of remains… but eventually, someone’s going to start asking questions about the smoke coming from the place.
Jermaine crosses the relatively small porch and walks in the front door as casually as if he lived here. Not sure what to expect, I follow. The doors lead to a small foyer with rose marble tile floor and another set of double doors to a large room. It’s kind of a living room, but huge. All sorts of ‘Southwestern’ décor from cowboy hats to saddles to vases and Native American artwork give the space a vibe somewhere between a museum and a theme restaurant. Despite the enormous sectional and multiple cushioned chairs all over the place, everyone’s standing, and by ‘everyone,’ I mean about twenty-five people.
Seems we’ve barged in on a party. Not the ‘people drunk all over the place’ sort of party I’m used to seeing, though. This is a ‘people in expensive clothes standing around in small groups trying not to talk loud enough to
be heard more than six feet away’ sort of gathering.
Boring old person affair. They really ought to come up with another word for it than ‘party,’ which implies fun—and Follows Rules Girl who never liked getting drunk is saying this.
The instant we walk in, I’m on edge. I feel like the idiot who shows up at a wedding in street clothes. All the guys are wearing suits probably more expensive than most cars. Women are almost all in fancy dresses, the sort of garments celebrities wear at awards shows—to a point. No one’s going super crazy. Nothing transparent, cartoonish, or made out of pork chops. Okay, maybe celebrities are a bad comparison. They tend to get weird fashion wise. It’s as though I’m at a fancy ball in some country where they still have royalty or nobility.
At least I have Jermaine beside me. The two of us are in the Tex Mex Waldorf but dressed for McDonalds. He does, however, appear to be correct. No one’s giving us the stink eye. They barely glance at him, but I attract a few lingering stares. Can’t read any minds here, so I’ve only got facial expressions to work with. Either they’re astonished he’s brought a girl to this event, are wondering what a mortal girl’s doing here, or are horrified someone gave the Transference to a kid.
Not letting it bother me. This is my reality for the rest of forever. If it gets under my skin, it will drive me insane.
We approach one of the conversation clusters, two women and three men near a giant white fireplace mantel, dormant of course. They all appear to be in their early thirties. Only the blonde woman gives off a noticeable aura of power. It’s not quite as slap-in-the-face potent as the two guys I saw at the former mortuary, more on par with Wolent, if a little weaker. Of course, he’s a Fury, so his presence is stronger than most. Considering Jermaine is heading right for her, I’ll assume this is Cassandra Upton.
She’s pretty, but not in a Baywatch ‘smoking hot’ way. She’s part Marilyn Monroe and part one of those German girls who carry beer around. The woman’s got the kind of figure they used to paint on bombers back in World War II. Guys today would say she’s ‘fat.’ Guys today are dumb.
And wow, she definitely has a presence. The way she stands, the laugh, the expression on her face… she owns this room—probably literally since it’s her house, but I mean she’d own any space she occupied. I’ve never seen her before in my life but if she asked me to help her fight off waves of invading bandits, I’d totally grab a rifle.
“Hello, Jermaine,” says Cassandra before turning to face me. “This must be Arthur’s new associate.”
“Hi. I’m Sarah Wright.” I offer a hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”
She shakes hands. “Cassandra Upton, but I suspect you knew who I am already.”
“Yes.”
The other woman and three men regard me in silence, their expressions curious.
“Jermaine tells me you have some concerns.”
Yeah, he probably called her after I got off the phone with him. I fight the urge to bite my lip. Just because I look like a kid doesn’t mean I need to constantly act like one. “Yes. I stumbled on an old funeral home in Ventura. A group of vampires are staying there, but they’re kill-feeders.”
“I see,” says Cassandra, as her four friends wince in varying degrees at the words ‘kill-feeder.’ “Has Jermaine explained to you about Ventura?”
“Yes. I know it’s basically lawless. Still, this group is a threat to all vampires in southern California. These two boys I know, humans, think of themselves as vampire hunters. They’re dorks, and kinda dumb, but cute. Anyway, these two figured out vampires are using the old funeral home down the street from where they live as basically a charnel house. If two kids can sniff out actual vampires, it’s not going to take long before real hunters show up.”
“Hmm.” Cassandra taps her foot, eyes narrowing slightly, jaw tight.
“I haven’t been a vampire for long, so maybe I’m a little too sensitive still, but it’s horrible they’re murdering people. I’m way too new to do anything about a bunch of psychotic elders, so I hoped bringing it to your attention could help.”
“You said five? All elders?”
“Two definitely are. I saw them.” I nod at her. “At least one of the three I didn’t see has to be an elder. Didn’t see them, but their presence was strong enough to feel.”
Cassandra shifts her weight back, holding her head up slightly higher. “I see. This is a matter to be concerned about. I appreciate you bringing it to my attention and will certainly take it into consideration.”
Why does it feel as though I’ve gone to HR and suggested changing the placemats from green to lavender at an office? Jermaine said not to expect instant fixes. Honestly, the woman was gracious enough to meet me—an outsider—at all, and on short notice. Trying to push her won’t do anything beneficial. I’ll end up looking like a brat and it will no doubt blow back on Wolent, which will blow back on me and probably my family.
So, yeah. I’ve done everything reasonably within my power to help. Dalton told me the most difficult lesson every vampire has to learn is knowing their place. I hate the phrase ‘know your place,’ but mostly because it’s so often used against women. Cassandra has shown me nothing but courtesy, so I return it.
“Thank you for seeing me.” I kinda half bow and lean as if to walk away.
Her smile broadens. Guess she expected me to have a tantrum or start begging. She nods once as if to acknowledge our conversation is over—or give me permission to leave, not sure which. “I hope you have a safe trip back north. You may want to avoid Ventura. It isn’t a pleasant area for our kind.”
“Thanks. I’ll try.” I make a ‘nice to sorta meet you’ face at the other four vampires who’d been talking with her, then head for the exit.
Jermaine stays behind for a moment or three to talk to them, sounds like random local matters. Once outside, I stop a few steps away from the porch, gazing up at the cloudless sky full of stars. If my head contained a metaphorical house for my thoughts, the little brain gremlins are working overtime to add a whole wing for guilt. Not being home right now, not being able to do anything about the psycho vampires, worrying about the Peters brothers… I’m filling up too many rooms. Gotta rationalize. The world has millions of problems I can’t do anything about, like famine, wars, disease, the Twilight movies… There’s no reason for me to feel bad about my inability to kick the asses of vampire elders.
Got a sneaky suspicion Cassandra thinks I’m a kid freaking out over nothing. She’s probably not going to do anything more than monitor the situation—if even that—until or unless it gets totally out of control. In her position, I’d probably think of Ventura as lawless and any vampire there deserves to suffer the consequences of their stupidity. Hunters probably won’t flood a 120-mile radius around Ventura and cause problems in San Diego, so yeah. Maybe I am a dumb kid for thinking she would do anything.
Vampire stuff has taken up more time than it should have at the moment considering I am responsible for my siblings. I need to get home. Before I go, there’s one more thing necessary for me to do. The Peters brothers will leave those vampires alone. I can’t save the lives of everyone who ends up in the basement of horrors, but if nothing else, Ben and Cody aren’t going to die there.
“Hey, went pretty well,” says Jermaine while walking up beside me.
“Yeah.” I fold my arms. “Thinking about it, really was kinda a long shot. Nice of her to talk to me, at least.”
He grins. “Cassandra’s good people.”
“Yeah.” I chuckle. “Ironic to meet ‘creatures of the night’ who all turn out to be so much friendlier than the living.”
“The bad ones go to Ventura… or places like it.”
“So I’m finding out.”
“Speaking of… be careful out there. Gets crazy sometimes. Got a feelin’ you plan to go back.” He holds his hands up, shaking his head. “No damn idea why. White girls always be doin’ dumb shit in horror movies.”
“Hah. No, nothing dumb here. Just
need to do one little thing, then this dumb white girl is going straight home. Besides, I know for a fact I’m going to live… or whatever it is vampires do.”
“Oh? You’re so sure…”
“Yeah.” I smile. “I’m not a cheerleader. I’m not cheating on my boyfriend, and I can run more than twenty paces without tripping. Also, I have brown hair.”
He stares at me in silence, brow furrowed. Takes him a moment to catch my meaning. Once it clicks, he points at me, cracking up. “Nice.”
“Seriously though. I’ll be careful. Not looking to cause any trouble, only trying to keep a pair of well-meaning dorks alive.”
“All right. You need a ride somewhere?”
“I should be okay. Unless there’s some reason you didn’t fly here.”
“Yeah. Can’t. Don’t need to, though. I’m already fly enough without superpowers.” He winks. “You got my number. Call if you need advice. I’ll do what I can.”
“Okay.” I bend my knees, about to jump into the air.
“Oh, one more thing.”
I pause, looking at him. “Yeah?”
He examines his fingernails—painted the same blue as his shirt. “When you eventually get yo’self a piece of vampire lovin’, I want all the juicy details.”
“You got it.”
“Awright, honey. You be safe, now.”
I totally fail the ‘cool handshake’ he asks me to attempt.
Both of us laughing, we part ways. He to his Mercedes, me into the sky.
This won’t take too long. If I can’t talk the boys into seeing reason, a mental compulsion will keep them out of harm’s way. Making sure they stay alive is the least I can do here. It might not count for much in the grand scheme of things, but it’ll matter to me.
Mr. and Mrs. Peters will probably appreciate it, too.
26
Laying Low
This sucks, but what choice do I have?
Vampire Innocent (Book 10): A Vampire’s Guide To Adulting Page 25
