Thirst No. 4

by Christopher Pike

  What a miracle God created when he invented duct tape! It would take a vampire who has a constant and annoying need to get rid of bodies to fully appreciate how important it is. I know that once I find a place to bury Ken, I’ll be able to seal his body in several layers of garbage bags and attach them so tight that a bloodhound could walk over the grave site and not smell a thing.

  The map is useful. It leads me to a small national park not far outside the city. The softness of the soil and the site’s proximity to the road factor in my decision of where to bury Ken. I don’t fancy digging through rocky dirt, and I’m not strong enough to carry the body far. Still, Ken deserves a decent grave. I bury him as best I can and take a few minutes to pray over his grave.

  “I’m sorry about this, Krishna. What can I say? I screwed up. Please take care of Ken. I just met him but he seemed like a nice guy.”

  After wiping down the stolen car thoroughly, I park it two miles from the hotel and take a bus back to the Hilton. I have to walk the last few blocks to reach my room. I don’t mind the exercise. The day is getting on; it is near evening. The air is fresh and brisk. The walk gives me time to figure out what I should tell Matt. Should I try to conceal what happened in the room? That would probably be best, I decide.

  Yet the instant I open the door, and see his face, I know he’s already figured out what’s happened.

  THREE

  Matt’s face. A thousand years old and he still has the look of a young god. Gazing at him now, at the faint but intense lines that create his varied expressions—along with his sensual lips, his strong jaw, and the depth of his dark eyes—I don’t understand how I didn’t recognize him the moment we met.

  Yaksha’s son—it’s so obvious to me now. Yet maybe it was the sheer power of his gaze that hid his true identity from me. He’s a sorcerer. As with his father, I seldom know what he’s thinking or how he feels.

  “You’ve been gone a long time,” he says.

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re having trouble adapting.”

  He’s not asking. “That’s putting it mildly,” I say.

  He gestures to where the blood stain was. “The front desk called. So did the police. It appears the hotel has lost an employee. Someone from room service.”

  I sit on the couch not three feet from where I broke Ken’s nose.

  “What did you tell them?” I ask.

  “Nothing. They insist on talking to you. You might want to give them a call.”

  I sigh. “I’d rather not.”

  Matt crosses the room and sits beside me, taking my hand. “You’re shaking,” he says.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “There’s nothing to say. My thirst overwhelmed me and I attacked the guy. I thought I could drink a little and stop the craving, but I couldn’t stop myself.” I let my eyes flood with tears. I need to appear upset, as Teri would. “He was dead before I knew it.”

  Matt moves to hug me. “I should have been here. I could have helped you.”

  “Did your father help you when you were young?”

  “I don’t remember having such cravings. It must be my Telar half.” He pauses. “It’s too bad Sita’s not here to give you advice on how to get through this transformation.”

  I don’t trust myself to answer. I close my eyes and shudder.

  “How do you feel?” Matt asks softly.

  “Like a murderer.”

  “You’re not a murderer.”

  I open my eyes and stare at him. “What am I then?”

  He stands and starts to pace. “It’s something you’ll learn to control. You don’t have to kill to get blood. As far as I could tell, Sita almost never killed her victims.”

  “She was five thousand years old. I’m an infant compared to her.”

  “But you have me to help you. I may not have gone through what you’re going through right now, but I’m stronger than Sita was. I also have many of her abilities, ones I haven’t told you about. If I stare deeply into someone’s eyes, I can make them forget what’s just happened. That means you can drink from someone and I can hypnotize them and make them forget the whole thing. Then we can send them on their way with no harm done.”

  “Have you ever used that ability on me?”

  He stops in mid-stride. “No,” he lies.

  He lies because he’s embarrassed to tell the truth, and he believes that Teri, as a newborn vampire, cannot detect his lie. He doesn’t suspect who he’s talking to.

  Yet his lack of suspicion doesn’t make me cocky. I know from experience how perceptive he is. If I’m not careful, if I make even the slightest mistake, he’ll be onto me.

  “Why do you want me to talk to the police?” I ask.

  He resumes his pacing. “You’re an Olympic gold medalist. You have an all-American look. If they meet you and find out who you are, they’ll lose all their suspicions.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell them who I am?”

  “It will have more impact coming from you.”

  “Fine. Should I call them now?”

  “Let’s talk a little. What did you do with the body?”

  I explain how I buried Ken in the woods, but I don’t go into every detail. I don’t want to sound like an expert. Yet I walk a thin line. I tell Matt just enough to make him relax. He nods as I finish.

  “You did well,” he says.

  “Thank you.”

  “I still should have been here to help. And you should have told me how much your thirst was bothering you. These first few weeks, you have to tell me everything that’s going on with you.”

  “It came on all of a sudden, after the funeral. By the time I got back to the hotel, you were gone.”

  “Did Seymour drive you back?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he know you were struggling?”

  “Sort of. I played it down.”

  “You didn’t play it down enough. He’s called a few times. He’s worried about you.”

  “It was scary, Matt. I almost grabbed him.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I can’t describe it. It was like I was going insane.”

  “You went too long without drinking. Three days. I’m surprised your thirst didn’t hit earlier. It must have been the power in Sita’s blood. She was so old. Plus my father gave her his blood before he died. Sita wasn’t a normal vampire. The fact that she made you might spare you a lot of grief. I’m sure you’ve inherited a lot of her strength.”

  “I wish she was here.”

  Matt hears the longing in my voice, and the weird thing is, it is genuine. But the longing comes because I miss my old body, as much as I miss Teri. Still, the feeling in my voice does much to reassure him that I’m being sincere. When he speaks next, there is pain in his voice.

  “I miss her too,” he says, sitting back on the couch, farther away this time, looking weary, troubled. I reach over and touch his leg. He has such beautiful legs, I used to find it hard not to stare at him. Now, I don’t have to hide it.

  “Tell me about your day,” I say. “What did you do?”

  He shakes his head. “Tried to find out how much fallout there is from that small war we had a few days ago. But as far as I can tell, the Telar have kept it out of the media. It sounds impossible but it’s true. It just goes to show how influential they are.”

  “Can we stop them?”

  “It’s going to be harder without Sita. She was so shrewd, so fearless—we’re going to miss her more than we realize. But even if she was here . . . I don’t know. We’re going to have to make some difficult decisions.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to get in touch with your mother?”

  The question disturbs him. It’s a dangerous question, it’s something Sita would ask, not Teri. But I put it out there because I need to know the answer.

  “What do you know about my mother?” he asks.

  I shrug. “Only what Sita told me. She said you two h
ave not spoken in years. That you have stayed apart to increase your chances of survival.”

  “When did she tell you this?”

  “A few days ago. In the house in Goldsmith.”

  Matt considers. “Maybe it’s time I spoke to her. I haven’t decided yet.”

  Again, he is lying, and his lies are easier to pick up than before. He’s not being as careful with me as he would be with Sita. For the first time I suspect his mother has set up a situation whereby she’s able to contact him but he isn’t able to contact her—not when he so chooses. Umara is a lot older than Matt. From the sound of things, she may be older than me. I’m confident there are things about her that even her son doesn’t know.

  “You know, Shanti and Seymour still have blisters from the Telar’s virus,” I say.

  He nods. “Today, I had a long talk with Charlie about that. He’s going to give them another shot of the vaccine but he admits it’s not the answer. The vaccine was designed to protect the Telar, not ordinary people. I’ve put Charlie in contact with some scientists that might be able to help him modify the vaccine. He sounds optimistic but I don’t know. Even if he comes up with a new formula that works, how are we going to distribute it in time?”

  “We could appeal to the IIC for help,” I say. Another remark that Sita would make, instead of Teri. Yet I feel I cannot totally hold back. I need to know where Matt’s head’s at.

  My remark startles Matt. He studies me closely.

  “How much did Sita tell you about them?” he asks.

  “Enough to know they’re not to be trusted. But she did say, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend.’”

  “Not when it comes to the IIC. They’re monsters.”

  “It might take a monster to kill a monster.”

  “They’re not an option. Especially with Sita gone. We have nothing to offer them. If they find us they’ll kill us.”

  “Do you say that because of what happened up in the mountains?”

  He looks away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “If you don’t want to talk about it, Matt, I understand. It’s just that Seymour told me on the drive back from the cemetery that the IIC was able to use their Array to control your mind.”

  “Seymour has a big mouth.”

  “That’s not fair. I need to know what’s going on, especially now that I’m no longer human.”

  “Don’t say that!” he snaps. “Don’t ever say that!”

  “Goddamn it, it’s true. I’m a vampire. If you can’t accept it, then how am I supposed to? I’m not your cute all-American Olympian anymore. I’m a bloodthirsty killer. Get used to it.” I stop and add the most dangerous words of all. “Or else get rid of me.”

  I have hurt him, I realize, and I suppose a part of me wanted to. To get revenge on him for the fierce argument he had with me because I wanted to save Teri by giving her my blood. Just three days ago, he had threatened to enter the cave where Teri was sleeping—while her body was undergoing the transformation that would turn her into a vampire—and put a bullet in her head and heart. He even threatened to kill me if I got in his way.

  Then the Array came and his mind fled.

  And he did kill me. He shot me in the heart.

  Matt has walked over to the window. He stares out at the dirty haze that hangs over the city. Here we are, a mile high in the Rockies, and there is smog. Who would have thought. But I’ve been told the mountains act like a surrounding bowl that keeps the pollution from escaping.

  “Seymour saw what happened. That doesn’t mean he understood what happened,” he says, and this time there’s a deadly note in his voice. It makes me wonder if he would ever hurt him. Certainly, if he wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to stop him.

  “Sita told me she trusted him more than she trusted herself.”

  “Sita’s dead.”

  Now he hurts me, or Teri, or both of us. His stroke is masterful. My eyes burn and I have to struggle to stop the tears. Yet I suppose one good stab deserves another.

  “I don’t blame you if you want to let me go,” I say.

  He lowers his head. “How can you even suggest such a thing?”

  “Because it’s what you wanted. For me to be dead.”

  I’m really raking him over the coals, but the weird thing is, I can’t stop myself. It’s only now I realize how angry I am about his behavior on top of the mountains. How he acted before the Array appeared, when he was still in control of his mind.

  “I’m grateful you’re still alive,” he says softly, and for the first time since we met he sounds totally exposed. He’s trembling, and just like that my anger switches and I feel an overwhelming wave of love for him.

  I don’t remember crossing the room but suddenly I’m in his arms and he’s kissing me and I’m kissing him and it’s like drinking Ken’s blood all over again. Except this time I feel myself drowning in a clear, warm river rather than a sticky, red one.

  Matt sweeps me off my feet with his powerful arms and takes me into the bedroom. We don’t take off our clothes, we tear them off. And our lust is good, it’s better than good, it’s natural and spontaneous. I’m not betraying Teri and he’s not betraying her because in that moment I am her.

  I don’t say that casually to excuse what I do next. I honestly lose track of myself. It’s like the entire storehouse of Teri’s memories that are ingrained in my physical brain break like a tidal wave against my soul. As his tongue slips in my mouth and his hands grasp my breasts, I feel as if Teri rushes into the room and reclaims her body. Suddenly there are two of us. One rides an ecstatic wave of physical pleasure, while the other floats on a plane where bodies are unnecessary.

  Because I experience both worlds, hers and mine, the personality split is disorientating and delicious. As my physical form begins to moan with pleasure, my spirit sings with joy. I’m a saint and I’m a sinner. We both make love to Matt, Teri and I, and because he knows his lover so well, nothing I said to him in the other room makes any difference. My lies are forgotten and his suspicions flee. He believes his girlfriend is not dead, and for a time it’s true.

  FOUR

  Late in the night I awake to find Matt sound asleep beside me in bed. All awareness of Teri has vanished. Inside at least, I’m alone again.

  In the first century after Yaksha changed me into a vampire, I used to sleep as much as six hours. But that was during the day, never at night. At night I was at my strongest and I hunted.

  It was only as the centuries passed that the need to sleep diminished, until I required as little as an hour of unconsciousness to recharge myself. I’m used to taking an hour nap at midday. Yet I know Matt prefers to rest for three or four hours at night. I can’t imagine lying silently beside him for that long. I feel restless and slip out of bed and go in the other room.

  I try watching TV, the news, but nothing holds my attention. The suite’s living room haunts me, the area where I killed Ken. Immediately after his murder, I was too busy dealing with his body to dwell on what I had done. Then, seeing Matt, making love to him for the first time, I forgot about Ken altogether.

  However, now my eyes keep straying to the spot where I shattered his nose on the tile. I notice the phone has been left off the hook. Matt must have disconnected it at some point, I don’t remember when. The police have probably tried to call. Chances are they’ll come to the hotel, probably early in the morning. It might be wise to leave before they arrive, yet that might make me look more guilty.

  I’m unsure what to do, I only know that a young man, with his whole life in front of him, has been wiped off the face of this earth just to satisfy my thirst. Viewed objectively, from a state where I feel not the slightest need for blood, to kill a person simply to satisfy an unnatural bodily urge seems ridiculous. The pettiness of my motive coupled with the brutality of my act makes my guilt feel all the deeper.

  I recall having the same thoughts five thousand years ago. Immediately after my first kill, I shared them with Yaksha, and what did he
do? He just shook his head and said I would get used to it. And I did.

  Now it looks like I’ll have to get used to it all over again.

  “No,” I whisper aloud. I can drink without killing. I can take a pint from a person—preferably a large person—then hypnotize them, make them forget. Matt can help me, he promised he would.

  Yet the thought of having to depend on another, when I have taken care of myself for so long, depresses me. I don’t want to be Matt’s pet, always having to follow him around. I have to find another way.

  I feel the urge to go for a run. My body does, at least. The desire should not surprise me. Teri ran every day of her life. Changing into shorts and a sweat top, lacing up a pair of Nikes, I slip my card key and a credit card in my pocket and leave the hotel.

  It’s after midnight. The streets are relatively empty. I run without direction, without purpose, and yet it feels good, so I suppose that is reason enough. I run fast and don’t feel tired. Surprisingly, a portion of my endurance comes from the rigors Teri subjected her body to as a mortal. The girl just won the gold medal in the metric mile at the Olympics. Teri’s legs are longer than my old ones and I enjoy the longer stride. Sweat pours from my hair and into my eyes. My heart pounds. I feel as if I fly over the ground.

  An hour goes by. Two.

  I’m twenty miles from the hotel when I spot the cemetery.

  And here I thought I was running aimlessly.

  I have come back to my grave for a reason. Something is happening with my body, something that calls to me. I remember studying my chest wound that morning, how it appeared to be closing, to be healing, despite the fact the body was dead. But is it truly dead? Why should it draw me so intensely if there’s no living spark left inside it?

  I don’t stop running until I stand beside my grave.

  The plot has been disturbed.

  Hell, forget disturbed. Whoever replaced the dirt was in a hurry and didn’t give a damn how suspicious it looked. I don’t have to dig the coffin up to be sure. I know that someone has stolen my body. The mud and dirt are strewn all over the place and I can actually hear my violated coffin groaning under the weight of the earth dumped on top of it. Whoever tore off the lid of the box used a crowbar or an axe, some such subtle instrument, obviously, and cracked the wood in a dozen places.