by Sotia Lazu
An unfiltered, stray beam of light found my foot when I paused to fumble with the door. My flesh sizzled, and I cried out.
Alex was by my side now, close enough to see my fangs.
Whenever vampires are threatened enough for instinct to overcome logic, our fangs pop out. It can prove immensely helpful when fighting another of our kind but is all kinds of inconvenient when dealing with the sun and a human bystander.
As I finally opened the door, I saw Alex’s hand fly to his neck. Yup, this wasn’t one of those times when auto-extending fangs would help. “You—you’re... What are you?” he asked.
I slammed the heavy door in his face.
He called my name, then tried to push his way in. Yeah, good luck with that. The door locked from the inside, but even if I hadn’t pressed in the lock button, all I had to do was sit on the steps behind it and lean my back against it, and it wouldn’t budge an inch.
“What the fuck is happening, Cherry?” Kicking now.
I tried to check my shoulder burn but couldn’t. Not because of the darkness—every story you’ve heard about vampires having night vision is true—but because of the position of the damage. It didn’t matter; I knew it’d be healing. I’d fed well, and my constitution was good even without that. “Nothing. Don’t worry,” I yelled back. Well, that was convincing.
He grumbled something about his gun and a lock. Then silence.
Sadly it didn’t last. His voice, calmer now, drifted to my ears. “Come on, Cherry. Open the door. I don’t know what’s wrong, but we’ll figure it out.” A pause. “Please.” The word didn’t sound like one he had much practice saying.
I haven’t needed air in years, yet I still inhale all the time. Like at that moment, when I decided lying wouldn’t help me. I took a deep breath. “I can’t come out. The sun burns me.”
“Are you photophobic?” It made sense for that to be his first thought.
It was my way out, and I should take it. I didn’t. I respected him too much to lie—or maybe I’m the kind of woman who loses her mind when a gorgeous man offers her mind-blowing sex and then cuddles her until morning. “That too,” I said. Before I chickened out, I added, “I’m a vampire.”
The reaction I’d expect from someone after such a revelation would be to burst into laughter. Alex sighed. “A vampire?” He cleared his throat. “Seriously? Tell me more about it.”
Wow. That was open-mindedness I didn’t see coming. “Well, not much to tell.” He didn’t doubt me. He wanted to get to know me better. I tried to put my thoughts in order. “I need blood to sur—” Realization dawned. “You don’t believe me.”
He tapped his fingers on the door, an impatient sound. “I’m sorry, it’s... No. No, I don’t.”
What an ass. Instead of letting him think I was crazy, I decided to prove I was telling the truth. “Move away from the door,” I said.
“Why?”
“Can you please just do that?”
I heard him take a step back, and I opened the door enough to show my face and slide my unscathed arm through the opening. I waved at him, then bit my lip and put my hand straight in the sunlight’s path.
The burn was tolerable for a split second but soon made my eyes water. My flesh felt about to fall off.
Alex stared wide-eyed at my blistering knuckles, then my face. I clenched my jaw against the pain and lifted the corners of my mouth in a forced smile, letting my canines elongate.
He jumped away, knocked over a lamp that looked too expensive to be on such a tiny table, and fell on his ass.
I snatched my hand back and held it to my chest before closing the door again. “Let me stay in here until sundown,” I yelled. “I promise I’ll leave as soon as possible, and you’ll never have to see me again.” This time I was lying. He would see me one more time, so I could return his state of blissful ignorance by taking away his memory of the last few hours.
Nothing.
I listened. Surely I’d have caught the sound of feet running to the nearest exit. Unless he hit his head when he fell...
I was about to open the door again, when he said, “So it’s Bram Stoker more than Stephenie Meyer?”
I couldn’t contain a very eloquent, “Huh?”
“Your hand.” As if that explained everything. “Stoker had the vampire thing down better than Meyer, right?” He sounded like he really wanted to know the answer.
Only a dead and buried person would have missed the buzz the latter’s works had caused, and the former was a legend. “Stoker’s definitely closer. I mean, sparkling? Seriously? Neither is completely right, though.”
“What is he wrong about?”
I sighed. I shouldn’t be telling him anything about my kind, but I’d buy some time by keeping him talking. He was a cop; his word had gravity. If he decided to tell people about me, someone might check his story out. I couldn’t have that, so I had to keep him within reach until I could wipe him, and the best way I saw to do that was to convince him I wasn’t a monster. I’d stall till sunset, leave the basement, and wipe his memories of me with the least amount of trouble.
Plus I hadn’t really talked to someone in a long while.
“Um, where to start? We don’t turn into wolves, bats, or mist—not to my knowledge—and we don’t have a thing against God or anything religion related.”
His gasp pissed me off. Here I was, trying to keep things between us civil, and he was upset one of the ways of hurting me was off the table. “Yeah, you can’t use a cross on me.” My tongue dripped venom—not literally; we don’t do that either. “Pity, huh?”
“Don’t be stupid,” he said, adding to my ire. “Vampires seem to be repelled by crosses in most books and movies. I was surprised that, of all things, the religion part is a lie.”
Were we really having a theoretical discussion about my vampireness? I shrugged it off and picked at the scab forming on my foot. “Also, we don’t feel compelled to follow the orders of any head vamp.” I thought that over again. “Well, there’s a council that issues laws, but they don’t micromanage.”
“Hmmm.” Typical can’t-think-of-anything-to-say reaction.
“Yeah...” Typical reaction to can’t-think-of-anything-to-say reaction.
Five, ten, twenty seconds went by, and then he said, “Do you kill people?”
“No.”
“But don’t you—”
“I’ve never taken a life.”
I expected some expression of relief on his part, but he shot his next question. It wasn’t an easy one. “Do you have mind-control powers?”
Unfortunately our superhuman speed does not include speed of thought. I could hear the wheels in my head turn as I tried to find the safest way to respond.
I must have taken too long, because his next words came out in a high-pitched voice I couldn’t quite associate with his husky tones until then. “Did you... hypnotize me? Is that why I brought someone I thought was a prostitute to my mother’s?”
He had no sense of danger; I could snap his neck, and if he kept accusing me of things, I probably would.
I don’t use my mojo to get a guy to take me home. I’ve never needed to do more than swish my hips and smile lasciviously, or stretch and let my boobs do the flirting. His gall was incredible.
“No, Einstein. That was all you, wanting to talk. I didn’t need thrall, to get in your pants.”
“How do I know you’re being honest with me?”
I couldn’t believe we were having such a stupid dialogue. He couldn’t know. And I had no reason to keep being honest. But being me got lonely from time to time, and since we were talking anyway, I wanted to be real. “Because if I’d used thrall, we wouldn’t be talking about it at all.”
“But you bit me.” There went the upper hand. I’d lost it. Buh-bye, upper hand.
Begrudgingly I muttered, “Yes. Had to feed.” Why was I hanging my head? I really did have to feed. “I tried not to hurt you.” That was the closest thing to an apology any of my donor
s had ever gotten.
“You didn’t.” His voice lost some of its edge. “I thought it was a”—he cleared his throat—“an expression of passion.”
I ghosted my fingers over the door in the wish-it-were-my-guy-instead-of-the-wooden-surface rom-com way. For a second, I allowed myself to believe he wanted it to be just that, and maybe I’d get a chance for a do-over.
“But I was a snack.”
I got defensive, though his tone hadn’t been angry. “I chose you, okay? I slept with you.” I jabbed the air with my index finger, like he could see me. “I don’t fucking do that.” I barely resisted punching the wall to stress my point.
“Am I going to become like you now?”
“No.” Maybe I should open the door and use my mind trick after all. Nothing else seemed likely to get him off that interrogation line.
“How do I know that?”
Again with the stupid questions. “It doesn’t work like that. There’s more to turning someone, and I’m not allowed to do it, anyway.”
“Why?”
I didn’t have to keep answering but decided to stick with it. “I was the last person to be turned before the new regime banned turning altogether.” I was also the reason for the banning, since my asshole of a maker didn’t realize I was sort of recognizable and had a family, unlike most people chosen for turning, so there was the possibility my resurrection wouldn’t go unnoticed.
“You’re the youngest vampire?” He huffed. “When were you made?”
“Turned,” I said. “Six years ago.”
“That makes you what? Thirty?”
“No.” I added dumbass in my head. “It makes me twenty-four, forever.”
I caught a buzzing sound, and soon he was on the phone. I didn’t bother listening to both sides of the conversation—it’s good that we can tune our senses up or down depending on our needs, or the abundance of stimuli would drive every last one of us crazy. My relief when I heard him say, “I’m coming over now,” was indescribable.
He hung up and told me he had to go see a contact and then run by the police station. I found the fact that he explained both odd and endearing.
“I shouldn’t trust you with the place,” he said, “but I guess I don’t have a choice.”
My day just got better, except for one thing. “Will you tell people about me?” I hated how small and worried my voice sounded.
“Of course I will. Nothing says captain material more than a cop claiming he has a vampire locked in his basement.”
“You know, you were a lot nicer before I put out.” That shut him up as expected, so I continued refusing to acknowledge the fact that his attitude had changed after my revelation, and not after the sex.
Just before the front door slammed shut, I heard him mutter, “You better be here when I get back. This isn’t over.”
This couldn’t have been more over, but I said nothing. When he got home, I’d wipe him and fly out of there, never to be seen by Alex Marsden again.
Chapter Three
“YOU’VE BEEN MISSING for six years.” That was the greeting Alex gave me when he returned to the house.
I could say duh or say nothing. I opted for the latter. It sure took him long enough to get back. At least I took a nap while he was gone. Nice of his mom to have a comfy sofa in the basement.
“I found your file, Cherry. Or should I call you—”
“No, you definitely shouldn’t call me that.” Bad enough that he’d found out my real name. I didn’t want to hear it again. It belonged to someone who died, who had a family and a future. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a little flattered that he’d searched for me, especially since it had to be hard without knowing my real name when he went looking.
“Okay, but I don’t get why. It’s a nice na—”
“Never. I’m not her anymore. And how’d you find that file?”
“Looked for models who went missing six years ago. You don’t look like your picture.” Conversational tone, calm voice—maybe we were done with the drama for the day.
“I better not, if it’s the picture my mom put in the paper when she was looking for me. I’ve lost seventeen pounds since that was taken.” I missed Mom every day that went by, and the thought of her brought tears to my eyes. I wiped at them furiously, mentally thanking God that sunset was near. I could feel it in my bones.
“I don’t know. I think you looked adorable. Blonde, green-eyed, round cheek—the poster child for healthy upbringing.”
Alex sounded—dare I say it—flirty, but I couldn’t respond in kind. I had been brought up perfectly, by loving parents who wanted the best for me. I’d been a rebel, though, and left home for a life in the big city. And here I was, in the City of Angels, but with no life to talk about and no way of getting back to the people I loved without risking their lives.
The tears began flowing freely, and I couldn’t contain a sob.
“Cherry? Are you all right?” Concern colored his voice, and I wondered what had happened to bring that about. He seemed to despise me when he left the house hours earlier.
I sniffled. I wasn’t all right. Not even close. I was alone, and that wasn’t likely to change. “I miss my mom, okay? The big bad vampire misses her mom. And my dad...” My dad, who’d supported me in everything—who acted as a peacekeeper when Mom and I had one of our stupid yelling matches over something menial—thought I was dead. I was only a couple of hours away from him, but I’d never again get one of his bear hugs. Unable to put my emotions into words, I thudded my head against the door.
“Can I... Is there some way I can help?” Alex asked.
“Don’t worry. I’ll get over it.”
“Want to open the door? We can talk about it. I can hold you.”
It sounded so tempting that I reached for the knob, but I stopped myself. I didn’t want him to make me feel better. I didn’t want to need him or anyone. I didn’t want to be weak and sad.
“Why do you care, anyway? I bet you just want me to open the door so you can see what vampire flambé looks like.” Under my breath but loud enough for him to hear, I added, “Jerk.”
“I’m not that attached to the door. I could break it in and watch you burn if that was what I wanted.”
Don’t be reasonable, for fuck’s sake; work with me. “Then what? You want a second round? I’m a good lay, huh?” The words tasted bitter. I was being unfair and unreasonable, but I needed some distraction from my reality.
“I’m sorry,” he said, effectively silencing me. “I freaked out this morning. I was scared, I guess. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. I’m so—”
“I’m sorry.” It was becoming a trend, him apologizing, and this time it felt wrong. He’d come back offering an olive branch, and I’d been nothing but bitchy. “I’m sorry I bit you, too. I just don’t know of another way to stay alive; I need blood.” The truth, pure and simple.
“Did you only wanna fuck so you could feed?”
“I wanted to have sex with you because I liked you. I didn’t mean to spend the night, and I’m sorry I fell asleep.” I really was. More sorry that spending the night in his arms had felt like the most right thing I ever did.
“You liked me?”
I snapped, thinking he was after some ego stroking. “Yeah, I liked you. You’re hot. Satisfied?”
“You don’t anymore?”
I felt like screaming. What did he want from me? That morning I’d been something he couldn’t wait to get rid of, and now...
As if he read my thoughts, he said, “When I found your file, you became more real. You were once again the woman I spent the night with, not a vampire.” Pause. “I liked you too. Still do.”
Ah crap. “Well, that’s a bummer.” We were not supposed to like each other. We were supposed to fight and yell. And I wasn’t supposed to want to kiss him again.
“Tell me about it. Hottest woman I’ve met in a while, and I don’t know if I can trust her not to eat me.” I could tell he wasn’t exactly j
oking.
Though justified, his lack of trust stung. At least it solved my lust problem. I no longer thought about kissing him. He was attracted to me, but he feared me, and because of that, nothing could happen between us again.
I was trying to find something to say to lighten the mood when the sound of wood breaking reached my ears.
“What was—”
“What the—” Something cut off the rest of Alex’s words and made him grunt in pain.
I burst out of the basement without a second thought. I had to save Alex from whatever harmed him.
As he told me later, the sun was already down when he returned. So much for vampire instincts—go, me. At the time, however, I wasn’t thinking that I might be in danger—and just when my previous burns had healed.
A man in a black ski mask held Alex by the neck against the living room wall, his grasp not loosening despite Alex’s struggles. I ran toward them, but a second masked intruder flew into me before I reached them.
He had no pulse.
The discovery shocked me enough that he managed to elbow me in the face and flip me on my back. I listened for the other burglar’s heartbeat but got nothing other than the erratic thudding coming from Alex.
I tried to get up, but the guy straddled my thighs. I had to get him off me. I thrashed and kicked but only made him cackle. Cackle. Like a cartoon villain.
“Stop that, Cherry,” he said, “or Mr. Marsden will get to watch me do naughty things to you.” The lack of profanity and his matter-of-fact tone scared me, but not as much as his knowing my name did.
I forced myself to relax and tried to think. He knew who Alex and I were, so it wasn’t a random burglary.
“There’s a nice girl.” The scary vamp on top of me caressed my cheek. I’d heard his faint British accent before.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the second vampire relax his hold on Alex, who panted for air. Before relief could sink in, the guy shook Alex like a rag doll.
Alex’s head hit the wall with a sickening thud, and he slumped to the floor, his heartbeat weak but steady.
I went from scared to furious.
