by Diana Graves
Looking back at Charley, I asked with a fake pout, “You’re not dancing tonight?”
He laughed and shook his head. “No, though I could give you a private dance if you’re interested.” It was my turn to laugh and shake my head.
“Why don’t you two take a seat, and I’ll get some more blood?” Michael suggested.
“Sounds good,” said Charley.
Once Michael seemed good and distracted at the bar I turned to Charley. “I thought you said Drake was a great man. He put my brother on stage, dancing naked in front of a bunch of ogling sex hungry horn dogs!” Okay, I was angrier than I thought.
Charley looked at me with all seriousness, an expression I rarely saw on his face. “You know I suffer from telepathy?” he whispered.
I nodded. Mind reading was the most common skill gained through vampirism. It was seen as a negative, a curse. Vampires that can hear thoughts learn to hide it, block it and ignore it completely. No one likes having their private thoughts and memories utterly violated, and some are willing to kill to keep their secrets.
“I was getting into a lot of trouble out there without a collective to back me up. A lot of vampires were picking fights with me because they knew that they could do whatever they wanted to me and there’d be no consequence, no big bad group of pissed off vamps to avenge me. Drake heard about me, and he sought me out. He is a good guy, Raina.”
I wanted to laugh out loud, but I stopped myself. “Good guy? A stripper is just one step away from a prostitute.”
“Fuck You!” Michael shouted. He handed Charley his mug of blood and Charley scooted further into the booth to make room for Michael.
My face grew hot. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand you. You say you like it but you don’t look happy to me.”
“I’m happy, Raina,” he said firmly.
I looked at Charley because I didn’t like the way Michael was staring me down. I watched his long dark neck as he swallowed mouthful after mouthful of hot blood; gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp. I looked back at Michael and he was still looking at me, but his anger was gone and his fake smile was back. What the heck? He was acting weird—more weird than usual.
Charley brought the mug down on the table hard and licked his lips.
“Thirsty?” Michael said, nudging Charley but he just smiled back at him. “So, besides my loss of all moral code, what were you two talking about?”
“Actually, that was kind of the extent of our conversation,” I said.
Michael looked at me, “Raina, I don’t need your approval, but I want it. I want you to be proud of me, but I think you’re still expecting me to be Michael. I’m not him anymore.” He put his hand out across the table and offered it for the shaking. “Hello, I’m Mick. I’m a blood drinking, dead fuck and I like to dance naked in front of people.” I rolled my eyes at him. He shook his hand in front of me with a stubborn look on his face.
“Fine,” I said, taking his hand. “I’m Raina, a fucking mess. Nice to meet you.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard.”
“No, you know what. I’m going to say it,” I said. “You’re still Michael. You call yourself Mick but Michael is not dead and Michael was a bit of a tool. You let your mom dress you. You let your friends mold your attitude toward life and you let our dad make all of your big decisions. You didn’t run your own life and things were easier, more simple. All you had to do was what was expected of you, but that changed. No longer being human gave you freedom for the first time, but I think a part of you still wanted that cushion, that feeling that everything you’re doing is making people happy with you. You’re a people pleaser, Michael, and dancing is just you making Drake happy and you miserable.”
I said it all in one longwinded blurt with my eyes averted from his so that his hurt-filled eyes wouldn’t make me want to stop telling him what he needed to hear. He probably knew everything I said already, but whether or not he owned up to it was another thing entirely.
When he didn’t say anything I looked at him and found him staring hard at the table. “You can read my mind, Charley. Is what she’s saying true?” Michael asked with his eyes downcast.
I let out a huff of air and turned to Charley. “I’m not getting in the middle of this,” he said with his hands up.
Michael’s hands hit the table and I jumped a little in my seat. “Do you agree with her then?”
“Hey, man. We’re cool,” Charley said, and wrapped his arm around Michael, but Michael shrugged it off violently.
“If I were a master vampire I could make you answer me!” he shouted at Charley.
“No, you couldn’t because I’m a champion vampire. No one can control me, no one ever will.”
Michael hunched over in his seat and he seemed inches shorter. “And I’m a legion.”
“And there it is,” I said. I was just thinking out loud as I said, “You’ll never really know if you’re doing something because you want to or because Drake wants you to. Sure, he can say you have free will, but you may not have free will at all. You’ll just never know. Maybe you don’t like dancing, maybe you hate being up there with everyone ogling your goods, but you will never know if that’s true, because Drake gave you that job and you like the job he gave you because he is your master and you’re his...” I didn’t finish that sentence. I just sighed.
Michael and Charley were staring at me with wide eyes. Michael’s looked hurt while Charley’s just looked surprised.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Michael said.
I sat back in my seat. I felt horrible. No one likes their shit flung in their face like that. What was wrong with me? I was flying off the handle. I was usually more tactful than this. Where was my head? “Don’t listen to me, Michael. I mean, my life’s not perfect.”
“How?” he asked.
I cringed. I didn’t want to talk about my personal shit, but really, it was only fair. I took a sip of juice. “Where do I start?” I sighed. “I’m lusting after a man who is a complete slut, while I have the greatest boyfriend anyone could ask for.”
“Oh, yeah. I almost forgot,” Charley laughed. “You’re fucking teacher!”
“He’s not my teacher—anymore,” I said, but my face turned red all the same.
“When you say slut, are you talking about Mato? He was your first love; of course you think about him from time to time,” Michael said.
“Yeah, maybe, but I still feel horrible about it. Just thinking about him makes me feel like a bad girlfriend and stupid beyond words.”
“Is that all you got, sis? You can’t stop thinking about some crappy ex, while I signed my free will away for all of eternity to some cute guy.”
I took another sip of juice to buy time. Of course I had other crazy shit going on, but none that I really wanted to talk about in a densely packed club.
“And she’s pregnant with Damon’s baby,” Charley said with a smile. “Congratulation!”
“Hey!” I shouted, fucking telepaths.
“That’s happy, not sad,” said Michael, his eye ever on the ball.
I settled back in my seat and stared at my glass. “Humanoids and Barguests don’t breed well and the fetus isn’t moving. The ultra sounds were of bad quality, so there’s a chance that my unborn baby could be in pretty bad shape.” The last words came out thick with the threat of tears. I hadn’t realized I was so worried about her, my baby. The angel said she was fine, but what’s an angel’s definition of being fine: breathing, an intact soul or something else?
“I’m sorry,” Michael said, but I gathered my things. I needed fresh air. I needed not to be packed in a small building with a hundred strangers and loud music.
“You have to get ready for your show, and I have to go,” I said as I stood and started walking away.
“Raina, wait!” shouted Charley seconds before he was standing in front of me. I was shocked and looked back at the table, but it was empty. I looked back at Charley. “Mick ran off, too,” he said. “I just
wanted to say goodbye properly,” he said before he embraced me in a tight hug.
I held him out at arm’s length and looked him dead in the eyes. He and Michael said Drake was fair and awesome and all that jazz, but I was getting a weird vibe from Michael. “Is everything cool here, really? Is Michael in trouble?”
“Raina, you worry too much. I think you’re just upset that Michael is a legion vampire and that’s something you fear becoming. You’re afraid that when you die, you’ll become some master vampire’s slave, like Michael, and you’re taking out your fear on your brother. That’s not fair to him.”
“Damn telepaths,” I mumbled.
Charley smiled and leaned in closer, “I know,” he whispered and my eyes shot wide. He knew! Knew what? Everything?
“Know what?” Michael asked.
We both turned to find Michael behind us with a handsome man standing beside him. The man didn’t match the grungy ambiance of the club. He was light and airy and looked too much like a book worm to be the owner of a night club, let alone a master vampire. His hair was a neat chestnut brown that went well with his gleaming white skin. Most vampires didn’t have perfectly white skin like his. Their skin was usually a strange shade of blue or grey and anywhere in between. Lilywhite skin meant that the vampire had it bleached. It was their version of fake-n-bake.
“I’m leaving,” I said.
“Why do you look so angry?” Michael asked. “It’s not as though you’re being forced to take your clothes off and dance like a God damn side show to a bunch of drunken people who think they’re better than you because you’re a soulless, immoral monster!”
There it was. Finally, the real Michael made it to the discussion.
The man standing beside my brother looked up at him. “No one is forcing you to take your clothes off and dance like a God damn side show to a bunch of drunken people who think they’re better than you because you’re a soulless, immoral monster either, Mick,” he said in a voice that was bigger than his stature.
The man turned to me with a pleasant smile. “You must be Raina, Mick’s sister.”
Charley tried to excuse himself then, but Drake put a hand on his arm to stop him. “Charles, how do you know Raina?”
Charley smiled, “We go back a ways. I’ve helped her out of a few sticky situations.”
I gave him a crooked smile. “And put me in a couple sticky situations.” I punched him playfully.
“How nice,” Drake said.
I looked at him. “I’ve heard good things about you. They say you’re fair handed and honest to a fault.”
He smiled and it was wide and inviting. “They are too kind,” he said. “I’m just as petty and selfish as the next man, but compared to some of the other master vampires in this city I’m a peach.” He looked toward the back of the club when the music changed and there seemed to be a shift in the crowd. “Oh, I wish we could stay and chat, but your brother will be wanted on stage soon, so good evening,” he said with a polite nod. He looked up at Michael. “Mick, come,” he said. I couldn’t really read the expression on Michael’s face. He looked lost, confused maybe, but happy; maybe fake happy.
“Michael?” I asked and he looked at me but he didn’t really see me standing there.
“Mick!” Drake said. “They’re playing your song.” He gave Michael a firm pat on the butt and laughed, and Michael laughed too, as if it was some kind of cue. He leaned forward and gave me a quick hug.
“Good to see you, sis! I have to go,” he said with a broad smile.
“Yeah,” I said, but I was worried and I looked at Drake’s back as they walked away from me together. Michael was like a puppet on strings, but he made the choice. He wanted a master. He wanted to be ruled. I didn’t. I never wanted to be somebody’s puppet like that.
DAMN DEMON
MISCOMMUNICATION IS A bitch. I’d assumed for some reason that I was supposed to meet Nick inside the club, but of course that made no sense at all. He was a wanted man. He could not go gallivanting around in night clubs. When I returned to my car I found him lurking in the dark. He called out to me just as I was climbing into my car. It caught me by surprise and I hit my head on the car door. I cursed out loud. Rubbing my head, I apologized and invited him into my car. To think, I could have avoided all that drama if I’d just stayed in the car and waited like an intelligent person. He opened the passenger-side door and took a seat without a word and I did the same, but in the driver’s seat of course.
I looked at Nick from under a heavy brow and he looked terrible. His clothes were filthy and his skin was an alarming shade of purple-grey. “You look terrible. Have you eaten yet?” I asked.
He looked out the window and cleared his throat. “I have no money and I’m used to drinking from voluntary blood donors. I don’t hunt.”
“Would you like me to go buy you a few pints of blood from Drake’s before we talk?”
“We have more important things to do than feed into my sins,” he said with his lip curled in scorn.
“Sins? That sounds rather preachy for a wizard.” He scoffed. I don’t know what made me think he’d gotten over his self-hate, but I was growing tired of it. The self-loathing vampire was so overplayed. It was becoming irritating. “Look, we both know that if you don’t give your body fresh oxygenated blood every night you’ll start rotting, and I won’t sit in a car with a rotting corpse, so I’ll be right back.”
I opened the door and stepped out but Nick called after me, “If it’s so important why not feed me yourself? Or is it too disgusting a thought?” he asked.
I gave him a mean look, only because I was tired. I’d only been awake for five hours but still, I was tired. “Yeah, I find feeding you totally repulsive, but not for the reason you think. I’ve fed vampires before and it’s usually a very personal, sensual event and you’re my brother, man. Gross.”
“True enough.” Nick smiled up at me, but his usual cheekiness was lost in the midst of his physical condition. “Two quarts should do it then,” he said before I closed the car door.
I could hear the lively techno music that Michael was dancing to as soon as I came through the door and I avoided the stage as I made my way to the bar. The bar tender gave me raised eye brows when I gave him my order.
“It’s for a full table!” I shouted over the music. The man smiled, charged my bank card and handed me a heavy glass pitcher of hot blood. He was holding it out to me with a pot holder around the handle and another at the base for balance. I took it from him ever so carefully.
“Cups?” he asked. “How many do you need?”
“I’ll come back for them!” I said, holding up the pitcher to show that my hands were full. I wouldn’t. I was making my way to the door, wondering if Charlie would let me out with a pitcher of blood. I guess it would have been easier to go to a grocery store or drive-thru fast food place for blood, but the store would only have cold blood and drive thrus get their blood from China—either from workers living in horrible conditions or synthesized blood made with questionable ingredients.
I tried to time my exit with the departure of a group of ladies, intermingling with their party on the way out while simultaneously shielding my hot pitcher of blood with my body and squeeze out of the door all kinds of nonchalantly.
“I don’t want you to look at me while I drink it,” Nick said as I opened the door and handed him the pitcher. I rolled my eyes but standing in the open door, I turned and gave him my back. I heard him take a long gulp before he said, “How’s Michael doing?”
“He’s fine, I guess. He swore his loyalty to Drake, the master of Drake’s Bane and he’s having some buyer’s remorse, maybe, I don’t know. It’s hard to know with legion vampires. Are they ever themselves once they make that oath. Who knows? Maybe he’s just trying to appease his boyfriend.”
I heard Nick spit up his blood, “Michael’s gay?” he asked.
“Yeah, but I’m not really surprised.”
“That makes one of us.”
“I mean, I’ve seen him look at men in a longing sort of way, even when he was human. I think he was able to accept himself after his parents disowned him.”
“Yeah, yeah, that makes sense. You can’t really disappoint anyone anymore once you’re the worst thing a human could ever become,” he said.
I bent down and looked at him then. The pitcher was in his lap, half gone already. “Being a vampire isn’t the worst, Nick. I’d say a murdering child rapist and warmonger are fairly tied for worst thing a human could become.”
He nodded his head in agreement, but he didn’t look at me. “How’s Tristan?”
I stood up again and looked out over the parking lot and the dark city. “You mean, our cousin? He’s fine I guess.”
“So, you found out about the adoption?” he asked.
“You knew?” I bent down again and found him in mid-gulp.
He swallowed hard and wiped his mouth. “Yeah. Seth told me his story while I was still under Alistair’s care. He wanted me to know that things are better now for vampires. His baby was taken from him. He was treated like an animal; caged and starved. But then Alistair claimed him from the government ran vampire care center that he was being held in.”
“Seth said he lived with our grandparents after he turned. That’s why he couldn’t keep Tristan there.”
“Then he didn’t tell you about how he sought revenge on his old friends that killed Tristan’s mom. One young vamp against five punk teenagers and an older vampire; they would have beaten him to death if he weren’t already dead. He was healing up in a VCC when Alistair heard his story and took him in. This was, of course, before Alistair went completely fucking crazy and started tormenting everyone he could get his clammy fucking hands on.”
“Alistair has changed.”
“Yup, thanks to mommy Adia. Finally grew a conscience and stopped draining her little brother. I hear that that is thanks to you, sis.”
