by Jill Nolan
"I grew up all over, mostly in Michigan and Canada, but I spent the last ten years around here. I've lived in a few different places since then. Minnesota, New York, Colorado."
"Wow, you're all over the map. Why move so much?"
"Hard to stay in one place for too long." Because of his extracurriculars...
"What do you do for work?"
"I do some wood working, building custom furniture. Sometimes I fight."
"Like boxing?"
"Not boxing. MMA or Muay Thai."
"Are you in the UFC?"
"No, but that's not the only professional organization."
"So, you fight professionally?"
"No," he says, one corner of his mouth pulling up. "I do underground fights. I make more money on those, but it can be dangerous, and, of course, it's highly illegal."
"You're doing that now?"
"Not now. I only do for a short period when I need money."
"Do you win?"
"Haven't lost." He's got a cocky grin on his face, and I smile despite myself.
"That doesn't seem fair, what with you having super strength."
He studies me for a beat, then leans in close. "When I'm in this form, when I'm human, I don't have any extra abilities. No super strength."
Oh. Interesting. That would be a weakness. And he just trusted me with it.
I'm suddenly extremely aware of how close we are, of each mere inch that separates our bodies. He leans in and kisses me. I have a distant worry about who's watching this, but that disappears as soon as his arms encompass me, and I feel his tongue against mine. He's gentle at first, but then his hand slides to the back of my neck, and he pulls me in closer, kissing me more deeply. It's a fairly chaste kiss compared to the way we ravaged each other last weekend.
He pulls back and looks at me with lust-filled eyes.
"Do you want to—I mean, do you get the urge to bite me?" I ask, suddenly curious.
"I most definitely have the urge to bite you, but I do not have the urge to make you bleed."
His answer makes me picture him biting various parts of my body.
"You don't care that anyone sees us?" I ask.
"I want them to see."
"I thought you might not want anyone to know."
"If anyone asks, why don't we say it started tonight?"
"What started?"
"Us." He leans down again with those heat-filled eyes on mine and claims my mouth once more. Once again, he pulls away too soon, and I'm left dazed.
"Invite me over."
"It still works if I'm not inside?"
"Sure."
"And why should I?" I tease him. It should be a legitimate question, but I already know that I will invite him over. I can't blame it on the alcohol either, because I've only had two drinks, spaced far enough apart to not affect my ability to drive.
"I think I can make it worth your while."
"And who exactly am I inviting over? The monster or the man?"
"Who do you want?"
"Right now, I want the man."
"Then that's what you'll get."
"Okay, come over." Yeah, all my resolutions to stay away from him went right out the window.
Chapter 25
Mason's not there yet when I get home, so I put on some kinkier underwear: black lacey panties that only cover about a fifth of my ass. I throw on a long t-shirt and wait for him.
I stare out the sliding glass doors at the sky and all of its beautiful stars, failing in my attempt to be patient. All of a sudden, I see a hand grasp one of the railings of my balcony. Then with an impressive feat of strength, but also some clear effort, Mason pulls himself up over the railing.
I open the door for him. "That balcony's a lot harder to get to from the ground than from the sky."
"You could have rung the doorbell."
"Where's the fun in that?" He walks up to me, pulls me in, kissing me. He kisses me sweetly, meaningfully. The kiss deepens as he walks me backward. When my legs hit the bed, he lightly pushes me, but I hold onto him, not allowing him to push me onto the bed. In response, he picks me up and throws me down, immediately crawling over me. His weight on top of me is significantly less without the wings but feels just as good.
◆◆◆
He lays on top of me after he finishes, after I've had two mind-blowing orgasms, a first for me. The sex was just as animalistic as it was when he was a vampire. This time though, he took his time with me, exploring my entire body with his hands and his tongue. And he was very good with his tongue.
We stay in each other's arms for a while, until I disentangle myself to go to the bathroom.
On my way back, I notice that there's a lot of light coming through the window, so I peer out. It's a full moon.
Reality comes back then. Has he already killed tonight? Or will he do that later?
I get back into bed under the covers, but I stay on the other side, on my back. "Do you even care who you kill?" I ask the ceiling.
"I try to only kill those who deserve it."
I look at him, surprised. "Really? Why didn't you tell me that before?"
"If you'd asked me that before, you'd have already known."
“So, you only kill murderers or rapists or something?"
"Or something, yeah."
"What does that mean?"
"I need to feed every two weeks. I can't always find those kinds of people."
"So then what kinds of people do you find?" I shift to my side to face him, and he does the same.
"Degenerates mostly. Nobody misses them. Sometimes other lowlifes, abusers, drug addicts, assholes."
"Drug addicts? Assholes? How do you judge them deserving of a death sentence?"
"I don't put a lot of thought into it. I don't care about the majority of the people in this world except for the few people I consider family and friends. I find someone I want to kill, and I kill them. There's more than enough people that are contributing nothing, and I'm happy to take their meaningless lives."
"That's fucked up."
"That's life."
"What category did that Derek fall under?"
"He was an asshole."
"And what about the missing girl?"
"What missing girl?"
"She went missing over a month ago from Wisconsin Dells. She's been all over the news."
"I didn't kill her. I don't hunt where I live if I can help it; it would draw too much attention to the area."
"How do you...hunt?"
"Usually I try to find someone beforehand. I follow them for a few days, until I have an idea of their routine. And then either I wait until they are alone and accessible, or I give them a reason to go to an abandoned warehouse or in the woods. Other times I find someone the night of who is alone and easy prey."
I decide I probably don't need to know more about how he hunts, even if I'm a little morbidly curious. "And you have to feed each new moon and full moon?"
"I don't need to feed on those specific nights; it's just easier for me to keep a schedule with the moon."
"But you have to feed every other week? That's a lot isn't it? Why so often?"
"Why do you have to eat every few hours?" he says a bit defensively. "It's just the way my body works. I don't think I have the ability to replenish my own blood. Normally, red blood cells live for about four months, being constantly replaced with new ones. Since my body doesn't replace blood cells, when I lose too many, I get the urge to feed."
"Would a blood transfusion work then?"
"I wondered that too, but no. My body rejects the transfusion. When I change into my vampire form, my whole physiology changes along with my anatomy. My digestive system works differently to allow the blood I drink to replenish the blood running through my veins."
"How do you even change? How is that possible?"
"I have no idea. Could be supernatural or there could be a scientific explanation that hasn't been discovered yet."
"What happens if you
don't feed after two weeks?"
"The urge becomes stronger the longer I go without. I get weaker, more reckless, impulsive. Eventually I lose control of myself."
"What happens then?" I don't know why I ask; I think already know the answer.
"I kill more people than necessary."
"How many people have you killed?"
"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to."
"Do you even know? By my count, it's at least 260 people." Twenty-six people a year for ten years.
"It's probably closer to 300."
Fuck. That's so many people. “Have you ever killed a woman?”
“A few,” he says flippantly.
That wasn’t the answer I was expecting. “Why?”
“What? Would have been sexist to spare them.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I can’t tell if you’re kidding now.” He does have a dark sense of humor.
“I’m not kidding.” He glances at my expression, which is probably one of mild disgust. "Does that offend you? Scare you? Women can be just as shitty as men. It should be no different."
I can’t tell if that’s fucked up or not, but I can't exactly argue with his logic. “Children?” I ask, dreading the answer.
“No. Not children.”
Oh, thank God. "How have you not gotten caught?" I ask.
"I'm smart about it. I usually hunt outside the town I'm living in, in the outskirts of a city. No one sees me, and no one finds the bodies. It helps that I have enhanced senses so no one can get the drop on me. Usually."
"Where do you put the bodies?"
"I burn and bury them."
"How did you become a vampire?"
The amusement at all my questions fades from him as he says quietly, "I made a deal with the devil."
“With the actual devil?” I ask, surprised.
“It's an expression. I don’t believe in the devil. Evil spirits, sure, but not one entity that is the epitome of all evil."
“So, you make a deal with an evil spirit?”
“I don't know. I don’t think he was evil. Most spirits are not good or evil, the same way most people aren’t one or the other.”
“Why make a deal in the first place?”
"For revenge. ‘Revenge is lust for the blood of another. Thus, you will make their blood your own.’"
"And did you get it? Your revenge?"
"No." I stay quiet, waiting for him to elaborate. He takes a breath. “I got fucked over. Should have seen it coming, but I was young and stupid, and I had just lost everything. At least, I thought I had already lost everything. Turns out, there's always more to lose."
I want to know what he lost, who he lost. I want to know everything, but I can't bring myself to ask. It's too personal and too painful judging by his cryptic answers and the cold, hard look in his eyes.
I run my fingers over his chest and stomach, feeling his scars.
"Were you really attacked by a bear?"
"No. This was done to me, with a knife by the people I wanted revenge on." I look at the long scars, once very deep cuts.
I didn't mean to steer the conversation back to his painful past so I search for something else to ask. "How come you have a normal lifespan if some other vampires live longer?"
"Most supernatural creatures are very different from one another. You can classify them as vampire or werewolf or whatever else, but individually, they can have different strengths and weaknesses, different appearances and lifespans."
"What else is out there? Why are they all different?" I ask, excited at the possibilities. I'm thinking of mermaids and elves and faeries and leprechauns. But, of course, there's so many horrendous supernatural creatures, like the werewolves who have no control over themselves and zombies and the murderous mermaids. Although, if murderous mermaids exist and they only kill men, I'd still like to meet one.
"I don't know firsthand, but I've heard there's pretty much everything out there. Everything in myths and legends was once based in truth. As for why? Most supernatural creatures were created by powerful spirits or gods. I won't pretend to know how the spirit world works. I don't know if there is one god or many. What I do know, is that there is way more out there than most people realize. Powerful beings, whether gods or spirits or something else entirely, that have the power to create new creatures, among other things."
"And why do these 'beings' create supernatural creatures?"
"You'd have to ask them. Probably for entertainment, what with the way they like to fuck with us."
"Do you know other vampires?"
"A few, but I'm not close with any."
"And they're all different from you? How? Are there any sparkly vampires?"
He laughs now, and I'm glad to have hit a subject that doesn't bring that pain to his face, even if I desperately want to know the story behind it.
"You know how vampire legends differ around the world? Well, that's often because the vampires differ. As for sparkly vampires, believe or not, I've heard of one."
"No way! Seriously?"
"Yeah. He was aggressively homophobic and misogynistic. I've heard he looks like he's covered in pink glitter when he's in the sun." I laugh hysterically at this.
When I calm down, Mason kisses me lightly, which has me reeling. This incredibly sweet side he's showing me is throwing me off, in a really good way.
He pulls me against him, so I'm tucked at his side with my head on his chest, like he's my living pillow. We don't stay that way for long though. When he starts kissing me again, things get hot fast.
◆◆◆
I wake up in the middle of the night, after feeling Mason move a lot behind me. He's moaning while tossing and turning. I watch him for a second, then realize he must be having a bad dream; his face is creased with concern or fear.
"Mason?" I shake him a bit. "Mason?" I shake him a bit harder.
He jolts awake, panting, looking around wildly. When his eyes land on me, he looks like he's ready to attack me. Then his eyes clear and his face softens, coming back to reality.
"What?" he asks me.
"You seemed like you were having a bad dream. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, sorry I woke you up." He lays back down.
He looks scared still, or maybe in pain? "Don't be sorry." I lightly run my fingers through his hair and along his scalp then moving down around his shoulders, hoping to help clear away whatever nightmare he was in. "What was your nightmare about?"
“Memories.”
Chapter 26
When I wake up the next morning, I'm surprised to find Mason still in my bed, sleeping. He's such a creature of the night that it feels odd to see him during the day, sleeping peacefully on his back next to me. I look over him, studying his face then moving to his muscled chest and long scars. I admire the way he looks, every part of him.
I hear a noise coming from downstairs and realize Allison is home. Does she know that Mason spent the night? Everyone must know about us now. I have no idea who saw us last night; Mason was the sole focus of my attention. I feel bad now that I kissed him where Nic might have seen.
It's easy enough to push away that guilt, though. And as for everyone knowing, does it matter? No one else knows who or what he is. And maybe he's not as bad as I originally thought...even if he still has to kill someone every other week. Maybe what Mason does is necessary, like a necessary evil. He's killing bad people before they can do more damage to other people.
Except he doesn’t always kill bad people. And killing a “bad” person is extremely subjective. He decides who deserves to die. But it's not like he has much of a choice if he wants to survive.
This is where I get hung up. What are the exceptions to the "do not kill" rule? The Ten Commandments say not to kill, the law says murder is illegal, basic morality says killing is wrong. But soldiers kill, yet no one believes that they are sinning nor is that considered murder or even immoral. So, they are the exception to the rule. Except when they're on the losing side.
Accidents and self-defense are typically considered exceptions to the rule. So is capital punishment.
Is Mason another exception? He probably kills people who don't deserve it, but isn't that exactly what happens in war? Those soldiers on the other side are just fighting for their country. It's not like they're evil people who all deserve to die.
I decide to just not think about it, because I realize that I no longer care. I like him. A lot. And maybe we don't have a future, maybe we'll only have this last month of summer, but I'm going to enjoy that time with him.
I slip out of bed to freshen up in the bathroom. When I get out, he's putting his clothes back on.
"Are you going to head out?"
"Only if you want me to. Otherwise I could stay."
"Okay, stay. I can make breakfast."
"It's closer to lunch."
"You're still getting breakfast. Eggs and spinach are one of the few meals I know how to make."
I head downstairs while Mason is in the bathroom.
As soon as Allison sees me, she jumps off the couch and runs over. "Did Mason sleep over?" she asks, a coy smile on her face.
"Yes," I try to say casually, feeling half-embarrassed and half-giddy.
"And what were the two of you up to during this spontaneous sleepover?"
My facial muscles aren't listening to me and a giant smile is now plastered to my face. "We slept together..."
"Holy shit Keegan! Tell me everything. How did that even happen? I mean, you guys barely spoke to each other before last night."
"He was really flirty last night, and it just kind of happened." I lower my voice to a whisper. "It was probably a terrible idea..." I say, my worry and guilt catching up with me.
"Why? Was it not good?"
"No, it was. It was...hot. Like, really hot. I'm just not sure he's...good for me." As in, I probably shouldn't be sleeping with a vampire.
"Who cares? It was a one-night stand, right?"
"I don't think so...he’s staying to hang out."
"So, you like him then?"
"I don't know."
"I can tell from that stupid grin on your face that you do. Are you worried it didn't mean as much for him? He does have a reputation, but the way he was looking at you all night – he couldn't keep his eyes off of you."
