by B. N. Toler
Whit made a stupid face, mocking me because I was in trouble.
As I walked by him to follow Lucy, I smacked him on the forehead with the palm of my hand so hard it made my skin sting.
He grunted, but couldn’t retaliate because by the time he got to me I was already near Lucy. I sat on our couch across from her, followed by my brother entourage. Her hands shook, and I could tell she was very upset by my revelation.
“Why didn’t you just tell us?”
Lucy picked up her knitting, a blanket she had been making for me, and focused on it. “Tell you what?” She tried to play dumb.
“Come on, Lucy. We’re not babies anymore,” I pleaded.
She sighed heavily, and a look of defeat washed over her. As if this was something she had battled with for a long time. “I was going to. I thought maybe once you graduated I would.” She pulled the arm back on her recliner she sat in so the foot prop came up.
“So there are vampires?” Hudson asked with shock in his voice.
“We already established that, dumb ass,” Whit replied annoyed, elbowing him in the side.
“Whit!” Lucy shrieked.
“Sorry.” He shrugged.
Lucy darted her gaze to me, as if it was my fault Whit cursed.
“What?” I asked defensively, unsure why she was mad at me for Whit’s offense. Lucy shook her head as Whit laughed to himself, humored at my expense.
I connected to him and pulled hard, glaring at him as I did. He snapped my draw and rolled his eyes.
“Stop it you two.” Lucy must have sensed what was happening.
“What do they want with us?” I tried to move the conversation forward.
Lucy wiped under her eyes.
“Are you crying?” Hudson asked softly.
“No.” She cleared her throat and continued with her knitting.
“What do they want with us, Lucy?” I asked again.
“Well, lots of things. They like our blood. It energizes them in a different way than humans.” She coughed and cleared her throat again. Her voice cracked. “We can heal ourselves, so it’s a win/win scenario for them. We can also heal any human they may feed on.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Hudson shrugged.
Lucy leaned forward in her chair. “Oh, do you want to be fed on by a vampire?”
“No.” Hudson looked down at the floor avoiding Lucy’s lethal stare.
“Has a healer ever been turned?” I asked curiously.
“Haevarzois is what they are called. It means Blood Healer.” She focused hard on her knitting. I later learned Lucy used knitting as a coping mechanism for stress, but I didn’t understand this back then.
“So when they are turned, they can still heal?” I questioned.
“Yes. In fact, their ability is magnified.”
“So why is it so horrible if a vampire turns a healer?” Whit asked. He was very young and very stupid to ask such a question.
“Whit.” She put down her knitting and made eye contact with him. “They are dead. Life may pass through them, but the second element of life is gone.” She paused.
I thought about this for a moment. The second element, the strongest element. “Ensouled,” I whispered.
“Yes.” She nodded.
“The soul?” Hudson questioned.
“Yeah,” I confirmed, rolling my eyes
“You really believe that?” I scooted to the edge of my seat, completely fascinated by the thought of vampires.
“It’s what I was taught.”
“Have you ever met one?” Whit tapped his fingers on the side table.
Lucy’s hands trembled. “No, I haven’t.”
“So if they are dead and evil, why would they still heal people?”
Lucy exhaled loudly. “They have to drink blood to heal, Aldo. The energy only comes from the blood. They can walk in the daylight because they possess our gift, but are immortal. Vampires pay them to heal their victims, and guard them during the day. That’s not what we are meant to do.” She continued knitting, refusing to look at me. “We do God’s work, Aldo. They clean up the mess of Satan’s spawns.”
“So Thomas is a blood healer?” Hudson questioned. Poor Hudson. He just seemed to always be four steps behind. Whit smacked Hudson in the forehead with the palm of his hand, annoyed by Hudson as well, and darted out of the room as Hudson moved to retaliate. I rolled my eyes. Of course they would act like this when our aunt just told us there are vampires.
Lucy struggled to keep her hands from shaking.
“Is there something else you’re not telling us, Lucy?”
“That’s all you need to know for now, Aldo.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine!” she boomed.
“I’m going to see him again, Lucy.” She gave no response and continued with her knitting. I left the room slowly, looking forward to going to bed. Going to sleep was a very exciting thought for once.
.
six
Present
The bell dings on the door as I exit Anthony’s Pizza. Refreshed and energized after spending twenty minutes surrounded by teenagers, I make my way down Broad Street toward the club, avoiding my usual route because I don’t want to see the Quickie Mart again. I walk slowly, scarfing down my slice of pie, and before I know it, I’ve reached the club.
I enter through the back and nod hello to the bouncers as I make my way to the dressing room.
“You got a request.” Rick approaches me in the hall outside the dressing room, his eyes honed in on my chest like a moth to flame.
“Already?” I just got here.
“Room three.”
“Thanks, Rick.” I smile and gently touch his arm, and he melts into the slouched image of an eighty year old man. Really, you would think he’d avoid me. He can’t be oblivious to the fact that he gets exhausted when he molests me with his eyes.
I quickly apply my makeup, slip on my costume—a black top with thigh highs and a garter belt, and make my way to room three. I slowly part the beaded curtain and slide into the room. Inside, a man wearing a button up dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and tight black pants sits in a relaxed position on the purple velvet sofa, one arm hanging over the back. His jet black hair is slicked back, but the oddest thing about him is he’s wearing sunglasses.
A chill runs through me and every hair on my body stands on end. I don’t know this man, but he feels familiar. I scan him again, but nothing stands out that rings a bell as to why.
“Take everything off,” he commands. His request is not as surprising as the tone he uses.
“I don’t take everything off.” I stay by the door and assess the situation. If this guy is some kind of jerk, I’m going to leave.
“I paid for you to be naked.” His accent seems foreign, but I can’t place where it’s from. Maybe like an immigrant washed with an American accent.
“No, you paid for me to give you a lap dance.” I smile, but maintain my stand.
“Take it all off.”
“Perhaps you would like another dancer.”
“Perhaps I wouldn’t.”
“I’m not taking everything off,” I re-affirm. We stare at one another for a brief moment, a battle of the wills, and finally he breaks the silence.
“Then dance.”
Against my better judgment which told me I should exit immediately, I slowly sashay towards him, doing my best to excite him. He watches, but he seems bored and not impressed. He makes no movements or facial expressions. I can’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to watch the train wreck that’s my dancing either. Once in front of him, I bend over, my behind in his face and slowly stand, rolling my back up while keeping my legs straight. I move my body in rhythm with the music, occasionally bending down and snapping back up so the hair from my red wig flies up with me. I turn back to see if any of my moves have affected the mysterious man. He’s watching me, but his face lacks any expression.
“Am I boring yo
u?” I move with the beat. Slowly, I unhook my bra and let it slide off of my arms. I will make this man come apart. He shifts in his seat, leaning forward for a brief moment, but sits back again, and exhales loudly. Guess that worked.
The tattoo on his right forearm catches my attention, but before I get a good look at it, he jerks his arm away and rolls his sleeves down.
“Thought you didn’t get naked.”
“Just the top. I’m wearing pasties,” I place my hands on the back of the couch behind his shoulders, and lean over him so that my breasts hang in front of his face. I lean back, then raise my left leg to the arm of the sofa and slowly roll my hip into him. He exhales again.
“Getting pretty close to it aren’t you?”
I lean forward again so that my chest is in his face. “You’re a decent looking guy. Surely you’ve seen a naked woman before.”
“What’s your name?” He ignores my question.
“Blakely.” Why can’t he just shut up?
“Your real name,” he demands.
“Blakely,” I reply, as I continue to roll my body back and forth.
He grabs my forearm and sits up abruptly. His sunglasses hide his eyes, but I can feel their glare trying to burn a hole through me.
I try to pull his energy, but sense nothing. No energy? How did I miss this when I entered the room? My heart pounds and I twist out of his grip. “Aldo.” I stare down at him, hiding my fear behind a wall as strong as egg shell.
“That was easy.” His eyebrows shift up as if he just rolled his eyes. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”
I inhale a deep breath to calm myself and remember what my aunt told me. Stay in control of my reaction. “Why do you want to know?”
He releases a short laugh through his nose. “It’s a game. I like seeing people fold to me, especially dirty little whores.”
I pause, shocked, which I’m sure is obvious, given my stunned stare, and my mouth hanging wide open. This guy is a total douche bag. You get that type sometimes. They talk to us as if were dogs. Of course, this guy is on a different level. I would drain him, like other nasty-mouthed jerks I’ve handled in the past, but I can’t. Playing nice is all I have.
“Time’s up.” I smile while holding the giant lump in my throat at bay.
“Yes, it is,” he agrees in an eerie way. His brows rise as he slowly nods in agreement.
I turn to walk out, but turn around to lash out at him. Screw being nice. “Oh, and sir...” I use my most polite tone.
“Yes.”
“A sell out would’ve gotten naked. Go fuck yourself.” I deliver the words with a huge smile and leave quickly without seeing his reaction. I make my way back into the dressing room, walking on what feels like legs made of Jell-O.
The girls in the room turn and stare at me.
“What’s wrong, Aldo?” Alina asks. Topless and wearing heels, she walks over and wraps an arm around me, her exposed breast touches my arm. “Sit down.”
As she walks me to my chair, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I’m pale as a ghost. No wonder everyone is staring at me.
.
seven
Past
After our meeting at Casa Grande, Thomas surprised me by returning to my dreams that night. I was sure after my behavior, he would have washed his hands of me, but I was wrong.
“Are you still angry with me?” He stood directly behind me, and I tensed, my body acutely aware of his proximity.
“No.” I shrugged, smiling slightly where he couldn’t see me.
“Really?”
I turned to face him. “There isn’t anything to be angry about.” I tried to act as if I didn’t care. Regardless of how I felt, the chances of Thomas and I becoming more than friends, were slim to none. He was older than me, and I was sure while the idea of a young girl with a crush flattered him he would never consider dating me.
“Okay.” He looked at my board behind me. “What are you working on here?”
“Lucy told me about vampires tonight and I’m organizing my thoughts.”
“So you know?”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” I felt his pull as he stood beside me, like two magnets drawn to each other. I wondered if it was only me that felt it or did he feel it too, only he was better at hiding it.
“I would have eventually, but sometimes people need to find things out at their own pace.”
“I guess.” I shrug and motion my hands to move the information on my board to allow room for more.
“Aldo, can I say something?” He changed the subject.
“Of course.” I met his eyes. Damn his eyes are gorgeous. I tried to focus on keeping my emotions intact, accepting the situation for what it really was.
“I just wanted to apologize for today if I offended you. It wasn’t my intention. You seem like such a nice young…eh… person.” In other words, a nice young kid.
Regardless of how I felt about this older man I barely knew, and how he didn’t feel about me, I wanted to be around him. I wanted to know him. It was unreal to meet someone like myself who I wasn’t related to. A person who had seen what I had seen through different eyes.
“No worries, Thomas.” I smiled again. “Friends.” I extended my hand out to shake his, not realizing how corny it was.
“Always.” He took my hand and maybe held on to it a little longer than necessary for an innocent handshake.
That was the first of many nights Thomas came into my dreams. I made a rule he had to be invited, or how else would I know if it was him or my subconscious creating him. He agreed. Let’s just say he was invited more often than not.
Over the following months, Thomas became my best friend. He started hanging out at our house and even skeptical Lucy grew to like him. I guess once she realized he wasn’t trying to get into my pants she lightened up. Of course, she still held him at arm’s length, but that was just her nature. Thomas never made a move on me, not once, much to my dismay, and I accepted we would only be friends. How tragic to love him so much but know it would never be. I cherished having him as my friend, even if I knew we could never be more.
Whit and Hudson also loved him. They hadn’t had much male interaction in their lives other than with each other. With Thomas around, Whit had someone to play basketball with, and Hudson had someone who would listen to him drone on about muscle cars. I had someone to occupy my brothers. Thomas broke up the monotony of our family and cast excitement into our lives. They were very happy days. He and Lucy even started to work together making money healing. He taught us how to fish, and for Christmas, he got us a puppy. We named him Fred. Lucy wasn’t at all thrilled about the new addition to our family, but the three of us were as excited as little kids. He was our perfect all American family dog. The simple things made so much happiness for us. Thomas made us happy. He was like our brother.
The school year seemed to fly by, and we all did well, a great deal of that thanks to Thomas. He always came over to help us study for tests and work on projects. My brothers and I made friends, something completely foreign to us. Lila Gonzalus, one of the most popular girls in school became my best friend—other than Thomas. She was an over-achiever through and through, involved in several sports and in the top five percent of our class. Her cousins, Wyatt and Robert, who lived with her, also became close friends of ours. We were always together.
I’m sure when Thomas took my family and me to a lake in a park nearby and taught us the “skill” of fishing, as he called it, he had no idea how much I would love it. The times he had actually taken us, I never caught anything, but I liked going because it was fun to watch Thomas and my brothers brag about their catches. Thomas enjoyed teasing me about how putting a worm on a hook grossed me out, but he would always help me anyway.
I memorized everything about that lake. The tall oak tree that blanketed us in shade while we fished; the way the sun glistened on the water’s surface; the soft, green grass that carpeted the ground around it; and the sounds of cricket
s and frogs in the background. This was my new favorite scene in my dreams. This was where Thomas and I would always sit each time he visited me in my dreams.
One night, in my subconscious, we sat by that lake and fished.
Lila had been over for dinner and it was no less than torturous to watch Thomas drooling over her. My brothers were smitten with Lila. This didn’t bother me, but when Thomas also acted in awe, while in her presence, I became very jealous. Jealousy was an emotion I had never experienced.
I hated it.
“You okay?” Thomas asked, nudging me with his shoulder. “You were acting weird at dinner tonight.”
“Just tired.” I shrugged as I reeled in my line.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” My frustration reared its nasty head, and I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t tell Thomas I was jealous he was attracted to my best friend. Not only would it have revealed how pathetic I was, but I had no right to be jealous. Thomas and I were just friends.
“Your friend Lila is very nice.” Thomas cast his line back out into the water while simultaneously poking my jealousy in the eye with a stick.
“Yes, she is.” Lila was one of the nicest people I had ever known.
“Fancy you befriending an endless source.”
“An endless source?” I questioned.
“Lucy didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” I cast my line back out into the lake.
“Lila. She’s an endless source.” His expression said, Duh. “She can’t run out of energy.”
It hit me immediately. Lila’s energy was constant, unrelenting. I could pull from her and she never seemed to have any reaction. Most folks I draw energy from appear fatigued afterwards, but Lila never showed any sign of exhaustion. I realized she was an abundance of energy, but I didn’t realize there was a name for people like her. I had never met an endless source. That’s why Thomas and my brothers had been drooling over her like dogs in heat. Relief washed over me. Maybe Thomas wasn’t attracted to her after all.
