Corrupting Alicia

by Tsoukalas, Evan

  She would need every ally she could find for that battle.

  I needed to speak with her, but not until I had worked off some of my pent-up anger and frustration. I figured going after Christian would fit that bill perfectly. It would also bring Alicia and me closer together, though only time would tell whether that would be as much hindrance as bonus.

  My cell phone chimed, the harsh ring punching its way into my contemplation like a pre-prison Mike Tyson, leaving me disoriented for a moment before my mind caught up and ordered my hand to fetch it. The Caller ID read Unknown Name, Unknown Number, and the clock told me it was at least two hours before Alicia should be calling. For a reason I still can’t fathom, I answered, “Charlie’s Pizza,” and, to this day, I’m still grateful for it. I might not have made it through another day without seeing Alicia.

  “I couldn’t wait,” she stated quickly, her tone apologetic and hard-edged at the same time.

  “I’m glad,” I replied, and I was at peace in an instant. A goofy smile broke out on my face and weaved its way throughout my tone. “False alarm. It’s safe to return to my house; I’ll be there soon.”

  The rush of breath over the line sounded like an outpouring of static. “You scared the shit out of me,” she bit out unnecessarily. I was perfectly aware of the effect my call had on her.

  “I know. At the time, it was necessary.” Alicia’s gasp signified that she also heard my unspoken words. It may be necessary again.

  ◆◆◆

  I felt a strong sense of deja vu as I landed in my back yard, mortal blood coursing through my veins like fine wine, except for the fact that there was no silent observation of Alicia through a window. I shot into the house like cannon fire, pulling Alicia into my arms before she could release a stunned breath, and then we were in the bedroom, my mouth a frenzy of motion across her intoxicating skin before her shock could give way to a more pleasant sensation.

  It was over faster than Michael Jordan’s retirement, but I could live with that because, given the state I was in, it wasn’t going to be long before we began again.

  8 warfarE

  Sunset was marked by Slumber’s swift departure, my eyes snapping open with spring-loaded precision. Sensation came to life as if a breaker was thrown, the living world storming in like the Delta Force with weapons blazing, blanketing my consciousness with a hail of sensory input. It didn’t take long for a particular pattern of bullets to distinguish themselves from all the rest, and it took even less time to wake the shooter with urgent touches that quickly melded into a marathon of lovemaking.

  When it was over, Alicia collapsed onto my chest, her cheek pressed to my collarbone and her hair fanned out to cover me from shoulder to shoulder. “No more,” she whispered on a jagged exhalation, her body heaving with each hard-fought breath, heartbeat thumping so hard against my chest that mine fell into rhythm with it. I would have chuckled, but her body pressed against mine from chest to toes made it difficult to do anything but enjoy the contact with a shit-eating grin plastered from ear to ear.

  Ego...

  By the time her breathing slowed and our hearts fell back into normal resting rhythm, the sheen of sweat on her body had dried. She lifted her head from my chest, propping it up with one arm, elbow anchored firmly on my shoulder. Our gazes locked. Her eyes were clear and luminous, an adoring smile positioning her lips. The emotions passing back and forth on the visual highway were deep and unchecked, and eventually, when they became too intense to bear, she spoke. “I’m gonna walk funny for days.”

  Her humor caught me by surprise. Sharp barks of laughter erupted from my throat, causing my chest to heave enough that she had to grip my shoulders to hold her place until I wrapped my arms around her and buried my lips into her hair. I opened my mouth to tell her that I loved her when she suddenly asked, “Is it like this with Gisele?”

  My head jerked back as if she had whacked me with a dead-blow hammer. I coughed a few times, attempting to dislodge my tongue from my throat before I wound up licking my small intestine. “Where did that come from?” I choked out between coughs, grasping her shoulders and rolling both of us to the right until I was leaning over her. She met my questioning gaze without blinking.

  “Jealousy,” she responded simply, her voice low and... well... jealous. I blinked a few times, my thoughts like the money in that blowing air chamber at a Bruins game; I had trouble collecting enough to buy a Happy Meal. She surveyed me intently in silence as I struggled for a coherent reply. I considered lying but quickly discarded that option, instinctively knowing that she would see right through a lie here.

  Not really wanting to tell her the truth, either, I tried to bail on the conversation like the coward I can sometimes be.

  “Don’t ask me a question you don’t want to hear the answer to,” I warned, hoping beyond all reason that might be enough to dissuade her. I couldn’t see this conversation having any benefit for either of us. I wish I could say that I hate it when I’m right, but really, I just hate it when being right sucks.

  “I do want the answer,” she snapped back, her breath slapping against my face in a hot wave. Apparently, she wasn’t going to let herself be dissuaded.

  “No,” I corrected, shaking my head dismally. “You want the right answer, but you aren’t going to get it.” I winced at the power of the stark truth in my words, and as she recoiled, pain flashed in her eyes.

  “No illusions, remember? I believe that was your idea,” she bit out, tone harsh and unyielding. I really hate it when people use my own arguments against me, but I sighed, conceding her... err... my point.

  “Used to be, but that’s probably over now.” I couldn’t help the deeply forlorn hitch in my voice. My current standing with Gisele bothered me more than I wanted to admit, even to myself.

  Alicia had steeled herself for my response, but it seemed to surprise her. “Because of me?”

  “Yes, but not the way you think,” I said softly, not really up for where this conversation was headed, but I apparently had little choice. Hell, why not? Everyone else knew about it.

  Alicia’s eyebrows furrowed, her forehead crinkling. “What do you mean by that?”

  “The way I feel about you doesn’t change how I feel about her.” Ouch. I know, I know, I’m a cruel bastard for being so brutal, but she did ask.

  “I’m confused,” she whispered, shaking her head a few times, eyes wide as she attempted to force understanding. Her confusion was contagious.

  “About?”

  “If what we have doesn’t change how you feel about her, why is it different between you now?” Double ouch. I resisted the urge to rub my temples and rolled off Alicia, gathering up the few articles of her clothing that were scattered about the Vault. I handed them to her without explanation and then began gathering my clothing while she put hers on in silence. By the time I located all my garments, she had finished dressing and was watching me dress.

  My clothes felt like body armor, and when I was fully dressed, I was ready to bring Alicia up to speed with the soap opera my life had become.

  ◆◆◆

  She took it a lot better than I expected, the first time the luck pendulum swung my way in a while. After I finished, she sat in silence, mulling over my horrific tale, her face surprisingly devoid of emotion. I had pretty much counted on horror, then outrage, and finally fear, but none of them came. To be honest, it made me feel even guiltier. Why aren’t you afraid? I thought, watching her closely. She wasn’t looking at me, but she wasn’t making a point to look away, either.

  The unspoken question drew her direct gaze, her sexy slate eyes drilling holes in my face. After a few moments, she shrugged. “I don’t really know. Maybe because I can’t tap into your BloodHunger.”

  ‘Stunned’ is not even close to the right word for my reaction. I think I jumped, half-afraid that I asked the question out loud despite being afraid to even think it. I stumbled through a couple attempts to speak, but the sputtering annoyed me into silence. In self
-defense (or perhaps self-preservation), my shield snapped into place.

  Alicia was slightly amused by my reaction and emboldened by a sense of power. “Don’t do that,” she whispered softly, referring to my shield, sending another sharp curve to my already-reeling mind. It was several minutes before I was able to honor her request, and as I stowed my shield, I made a mental note to bring this new development up later.

  Alicia shook her head suddenly, and for a split second, I thought she was still hearing my thoughts again until she spoke and set me straight. “That’s not it. It’s because I heard the lifelessness in your voice when you spoke of it, and I’d bet my life that what happened did as much damage to you as it did to her.”

  Blood tears began to well in my eyes, casting the world in a hazy, crimson fog. Alicia gave me an odd look. “Don’t get too gushy. Most of the damage was to your pride. You lost control; you, the most powerful being on the planet, were powerless, and that alone will make you die before letting it happen again.” Her tone was sharp, accusatory, and it pissed me off. Of course, it pissed me off even more that she was right on the money, and I sighed in defeat, raising my hands in surrender.

  Alicia moved to stand in front of me, grasping my raised hands in her own. She leaned down to rest her forearms on my knees, bringing her hands together with mine in between, and she looked into my eyes. “What you did should’ve wounded you more than what happened to you, Jason. That’s something you’ll have to live with, but it’s not something I need to worry about.” Her voice was softer now, warm and gentle in its reproach.

  “Why not?” I asked, confused again. Apparently, she knew me a lot better than I thought.

  “Because I finally get it. I understand why you think the way you do.” I almost never understand why I think the way I do, so the irony of her statement struck me as perversely funny.

  I sucked in an anticipatory breath. A boyish sort of joy bubbled up at the hope of gaining some insight into my own mind, riding on the exhilaration that Alicia might somehow be able to redeem me after all. She fell silent, waiting for some indication that I wanted her to continue. I nodded. “As much as you tend to think otherwise, you don’t really see yourself as human. You recognize that you’re different... No, recognize isn’t the right word. You embrace it. That’s what keeps you sane, what allows you to skip the sunrise each morning, despite the things you may have done the night before; things that would’ve been unthinkable to you when you were mortal.”

  My goodness. So much for redemption. Instead, she had slipped the blade between my ribs and turned it over a few times for kicks. How else to explain the sharp, nauseating pain that stepped on my fledgling joy, crushing it to pulp? I drew back abruptly, tearing my hands from her grasp, a look of abject horror plastered so heavily on my face that it felt permanent. I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed my temples in an attempt to purge the pain.

  “Jason,” Alicia said, her voice soft, but I refused to open my eyes. “Jason,” she persisted, placing her hands over mine and gently drawing them away from my head. My eyes shot open at the contact, and I had to fight the urge to turn my head away from her gaze. “A part of me wants to be afraid, but there’s no room. The rest of me is too excited.”

  My whole body went rigid, immediately halting the motion of our arms. “What?!?” I choked, my gaze spearing hers and searching for the mania in her eyes after that statement.

  I didn’t have to look very hard.

  “Don’t you see?” she asked, her voice loaded with exhilaration. “Because of what happened between you and Gisele, I can see past my illusions! I thought they were gone after that morning in Seattle, but they weren’t; they just became a different illusion. But now, I see you for what you are. You’re not a man, and the rules of men don’t apply to you. You’re a vampire, and for the first time since I met you, I think I know what that means.”

  I should have been ecstatic, should have been doing backflips up and down the room, but I wasn’t. Not even close. Instead, I was frozen. Seven years of living with vampirism hadn’t managed to teach me what Alicia revealed with a few thunderous words: a vampire is corruption incarnate.

  We corrupt everything. Thinking back on those years, it should have been obvious, but the Blood is the most effective set of blinders known to mankind. We systematically drive out everything good in the mortal world, everything that brings hope, everything that we envy about you in a furious attempt to pull you down onto the same miserable path that we cannot escape.

  I had certainly done a masterful job on Alicia. I’d taken a wonderful and interesting being and turned her into me... with tits. She was as ready for the Blood as she would ever be, and I was so terrified of the revenant I’d make of her that I knew it could never happen.

  Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking... That I’m a complete coward, right? Well, all I can say to that is it’s pretty easy to think that from the outside looking in. From where I stand, however, it’s all about self-preservation. Of course, if I was really so keen on self-preservation, why get involved with Alicia in the first place, right?

  Welcome to the paradox that is my life.

  Blood-red warning signs bearing the word “DANGER!” flashed inside my head, and an overwhelming melancholy set its fat ass right smack dab on the center of my heart, oppressing each beat to the point of pain for a few moments until the numbness began.

  ◆◆◆

  That moment of clarity and discovery quietly stole away any pleasure I might have gained from the preparations that followed. The ensuing gloom, wrapped around me like a full-body ACE bandage, reduced Christian’s death to an unwanted obligation, a necessary event to uphold my promise to Alicia. I felt nothing as we planned his demise down to the last detail, something that should have been enormously satisfying; we could have been discussing the weather.

  Don’t get me wrong, I still wanted to kill him, but all the pleasure had been sucked out of it, as if a tornado funneled its way into my mind and targeted one specific facet, leaving the rest unscathed. About the only pleasure I could wring from it was in knowing that I was making her happy.

  She certainly was happy; there was a barely contained sense of triumph bubbling out of her in subtle expressions and body movements. I expected her to be more open about displaying her glee, but she sensed my lack of enthusiasm and tried to contain hers. She’d yet to nail down the exact cause of my reticence, and she didn’t really want to ask, which made it a bit of a shock when she interrupted a brief period of silence with a startlingly perceptive question.

  “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” she whispered softly, the light behind her eyes dimming. She sat in the living room recliner, one leg crossed over the other, and I stood on the opposite side of the living room, my back to the sliding door, arms firmly crossed in front of me, legs shoulder width apart, an impregnable tower of solidity. Okay, more like a bunker, but if I couldn’t feel strong inside, I could certainly fake it on the outside.

  I fastened a hard stare on her face, hiding my shock admirably. A million thoughts rifled through my mindscape, but I said nothing. She waited for me to answer, her face somber and head tilted slightly to one side, and I could tell by her expression that she wasn’t going to say anything else until I did.

  “You’re very perceptive,” I replied at length, when the silence made the weight of my thoughts unbearable. Traces of a tiny smile claimed her lips before sobriety forced it back.

  “I do realize that this might not change anything for me,” she stated firmly, and though I heard the conviction in her voice, I didn’t quite believe it.

  “Do you?” I asked sharply, one eyebrow rising. “Do you really?”

  “Yes,” she croaked immediately, her voice strained and raw. “And I know you’ve thought so from the beginning.” My eyebrow rose higher, and I felt my respect for her incredible perception lifting my mood and apparently, my expression, too.

  She shot me a wry look. “Don’t be too impressed; I just figured i
t out a few minutes ago,” she said dryly, standing gracefully and beginning to pace back and forth in front of me. I smiled at her self-deprecation. “You were sweet to keep your opinion to yourself. At that time, I needed you to. If I hadn’t figured it out on my own, it wouldn’t have made a dent.”

  Did it make a dent? I almost screamed, catching myself just in time to hold onto my silence.

  She stopped pacing and turned to face me, her eyes meeting mine without hesitation. “When you were gone, I had a lot of time to think.”

  “And?” I inquired, taking a step toward her, afraid to get my hopes up, but doing it anyway.

  She took a deep, fortifying breath, her eyes still glued to mine. “And I still need to go through with it.” I let out a breath, disappointment flickering across my face. Alicia caught it and moved to stand in front of me, close enough that I could feel her breath on my face.

  “Why?” I asked, wondering if I could live with her answer.

  “Jason,” Alicia sighed, the tone of her voice pleading with me to understand. “Killing Christian may not help me bury the past. I understand that, I really do, but if I don’t kill him, I know that I won’t be able to.”

  Please understand, her mind whispered to me over and over. I closed my eyes, mostly out of the sheer relief that I did understand, and when I opened them again, the prospect of Christian’s death was once again something to look forward to. I wasn’t “kid in a candy store” ecstatic about it, but I was close enough for horseshoes and hand grenades.

  I smiled at her, reaching out to cup her face with my hands. Her eyes closed at the contact, a small moan escaping her lips, and our foreheads came together softly. And then, close enough actually became enough.

  “Then I think it’s time we left,” I whispered, my smile becoming predatory.

  ◆◆◆

  The street outside Christian’s compound was remarkably quiet and heavily steeped in shadow, the scattered sodium-vapor lamps engaging in a valiant but vain fight to pierce the gauntlet of night. A quiet breeze blew in from the north bearing just the hint of cold, and it seemed to pass through each object without actually moving it.