by CoraLee June
“What is this, high school?” I snickered. “Is there going to be a lunch and recess bell too?” Diego did not look amused with me. I almost felt bad for him. Almost. I’m sure he had never had to deal with anyone who didn’t immediately bend to his will. But this was good for him. Patience is a virtue after all.
“No…” Diego started to respond, looking annoyed.
I interrupted him and continued my thought, “And what did she mean ‘Level Ones’? Why are Level One recordings playing in my room? I thought you said I skipped a few levels because of your blood and stuff.”
“Yes, you did. But I’m not going to change the recording to say ‘Level Ones plus Drew,’ so get over yourself. For the remainder of your transition, consider yourself a Level One. Now get out of here.”
I quickly rummaged through one of my opened boxes and found a pink notebook with a picture of a kitten wearing a tiara along with a bedazzled pen. I made my way to the door, stuck my tongue out at Diego, and sprinted out before he could lecture me on respect again.
I made my way down to the rec hall in time to hear the therapist introduce herself as Eva. I tried to quietly take the last open seat in the circle, but I guess tardiness was also a sin in the underworld, because Eva totally called me out.
“Thank you for volunteering, Drew!” she said in a flowery sweet voice. I briefly wondered how she knew my name, but at this point, I was just rolling with it. Besides, this was by far the most chipper I had heard anyone since arriving at the compound. We could totes be friends.
“Uh, sure. No problem. What am I doing again?”
“You were telling us what you did in your previous life, how you were turned, and your favorite flavor of ice cream!”
I swallowed before looking around the room. Like the rest of this damned place, the walls were painted a dark red, the tiled floors were black, and the windows were covered with thick medieval-looking curtains.
Eva looked the complete opposite of her voice. She had dark hair, pale skin and thick black eyeliner surrounding her brown eyes. She wore a black lace dress that showed off her pointy nipples and was leaning casually in her seat. Around us were a few vampires that looked more at ease than I felt. One of them was a guy that appeared to be in his twenties. Another woman was inspecting her blood red nails.
And then, there was Granny. She was sitting on a chair, scowling and curling her lip at the room, as if it personally offended her to be here.
“I was...AM the head of marketing at a female-empowered sex toy company. I was turned by Granny over there in an alley behind an Italian restaurant after a super boring date, so thanks for making that a night to remember, Granny.” I waved at her with a sarcastic smile. “And lastly, any flavor with peanut butter.”
“I should have killed you. Immortality is wasted on the young,” Granny growled.
My mouth dropped open in shock. What the fuck crawled up her ass? I was the one suffering here. Granny looked different today. She was wearing leather pants and a button-up silk shirt in a mauve color. And heels. Granny was wearing sky-high heels. She looked a lot better than she did in the alley. I suppose that bloodlust Diego mentioned was a real buzzkill.
“Betty, we don’t talk about killing people during circle time,” Eva chided before turning to address me.
“How does it make you feel to be in a room with the person who turned you against your will, Drew?” Eva asked while threading her fingers together. Yeah. I’d been to therapy before, and I knew these how do you feel questions were nothing but a trap.
How do you feel about both your parents dying in a tragic accident?
How did it make you feel when your foster brother grabbed you?
How do you feel sleeping on your best friend’s couch because you aged out of the system and have nowhere to go?
I scoffed. “How do you think it feels? I’m pretty pissed off. She stole my entire life…”
“Let’s be honest,” Savage Granny—or Betty—said. “You didn’t have that great of a life to begin with. I was doing you a favor. Before me, you were thirty years old, willing to fuck a minimum wage waiter with a snaggle tooth in an alley.”
The young guy sitting to my left choked on his laugh. Even Eva’s eyes went wide.
“You do realize you’re talking about your grandson, right?” I asked through clenched teeth. My gums were sore. My teeth ached. Every muscle in my body was tense with anger. When was the last time I ate something?
“I know exactly who I’m talking about. Which is why I know you’re pathetic for being in that position in the first place. And you don’t wear panties. That’s not sanitary with a short dress, dear.”
“Well, okay then!” Eva said before clapping her hands. “Let’s move on, shall we?”
I clenched my fist. Fuck Betty.
“I’ll go next,” the younger guy said. “My name is Kyle Green. I’m a Kappa Kappa Pike Delta Omega Sigma Chi Omega.” Kyle stopped his word vomit to throw up what looked like gang signs with his fingers. “Business major at Harvard. Got turned by my frat brother during an event that was definitely not hazing. I accidentally cut my arm while jumping off a bridge, and the dude went psycho. Started licking me like he was that hottie Megan Smith from Delta Lambda Chi Alpha Oompa Loompa. Thorough, bro. Megan sucks like a dream. And I don’t like ice cream. Too many calories. They wanted to kill me, but I guess being a trust fund brat finally paid off. Did anyone else have to pay three million to be here? I mean, the dorms are complete shit for such a high price tag.”
I blinked twice at the pretty boy with blond hair and bleached teeth while wondering how the hell he got into Harvard. Maybe they had a super competitive golf scholarship for frat daddies or something. Or maybe he put that trust fund to good use.
“Well, um, I’m glad you’re getting the most out of your time at Harvard, Kyle. Thank you for sharing,” Eva acknowledged him politely. “And everyone’s circumstances for being here are unique. Please remember the terms of your agreement with the council and not discuss the details of your acceptance with the group.”
“Right. Lips sealed,” Kyle replied with a wink.
What a douche. So, I suppose it’s only scandalous if you can’t afford to bribe the council. I could pay them in dildos. Maybe some of these vamps needed to unwind a bit.
The rest of the circle shared their painstakingly boring stories one after the other. All but Betty, Kyle, and I were planned changes. They were on waitlists and had to be sponsored by a high-ranking vampire to be allowed in. One of them was suffering from breast cancer until she could change. For the most part, none of them had particularly interesting stories. Most were just wealthy people that bought their way into eternity. It made me sick to think about.
This would be one hour of my life that I would never get back. Even with being immortal and having literally all the time in the world, this wasn’t worth it. As Taylor from Shreveport finished telling us about her love of Rocky Road, I pulled out my notebook, opened it to a fresh page, and began to write.
Questions for Diego
How many new vampires are there every month? Or quarter or whatever?
Are you actively recruiting?
Are there other vampire clubs across the country, or do they all come here?
Are there any actual cool vampires? So far everybody here kind of sucks. Haha, get it? Sucks? No, but for real, Kyle is terrible.
So, if vampires are a thing, does that mean there are ghosts? Werewolves? GENIES?!
“Drew?”
I looked up to see Eva standing over me. The rest of the group was already out of their seats and heading for the door.
“Group is over, you can go to your quarters now. Unless you have something else you would like to talk about? Perhaps having Betty as your roommate?”
I was in denial about sharing a room with Betty and wasn’t in the mood to discuss it with my hippie vampire therapist. “Nope, all good here! Thanks, Eva!” I said, scrambling to shove my notebook into my bag while
standing up and heading toward the exit.
“See you tomorrow!” Eva sang out cheerfully as I slipped through the door.
Shit, I had to come back tomorrow? I’d rather eat nothing but kale for a week straight.
Drew
I made my way to my room, and by the time I was opening the door, Betty was tearing down my brand-new artwork. “What the fuck, Betty?!” I cried out.
She looked like Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada, with heartless eyes and a determined scowl on her face. “It looks like Barbie threw up in here. What is it that Eva says? You can’t embrace your existence without letting go of your past? If I wanted to stay in a tacky room, I would have died in that nursing home my idiot grandson put me in.”
I dropped my mouth open. “My style is not tacky,” I urged. Betty pulled her Louis Vuitton suitcase to her coffin and started unpacking a slew of designer clothes and some sky-high heels. Granny had style, that was for sure, but fuck Bitchy Betty.
“You can have your side of the room, I’ll have mine. Put up whatever depressing decor you want. I’ll stick to pink.”
Granny Bitchy Betty crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. “Should we talk about this? Get it out in the open. I’m old, and petty bullshit emotions don’t really do it for me. I want to enjoy my undead life.”
I gritted my teeth and stalked over to the mini fridge for a bag of blood. “There isn’t much to talk about. You changed me against my will. Fed from me. Completely ruined my life. That sums it up, huh?”
Granny Bitchy Betty rolled her eyes. “The way I see it, you’re now a member of vampire court, thanks to the king. You’re more important now than you’ve ever been.”
How fucking dare she! I was important before. “I don’t care about being important. I want to be happy.”
“Everybody cares about being important,” Betty scoffed. “It’s a matter of whether you’re willing to admit it or not. Once we get out of this dump, I’m sure you will love using and abusing your status. Maybe we can hang a curtain so that I don’t have to see your Pepto Bismol colored side of the room.”
“It’s pearlescent pink, not Pepto. And I am NOT going to abuse my status,” I declared adamantly, even as I flashed back to using my rank to force Rocky to let me go to my work meeting. Well, I won’t abuse it anymore, I vowed to myself.
Betty was busy ignoring me as she rifled through her suitcase. She pulled out a luxurious set of sheets and got to work fitting them to the coffin as best she could. When she was satisfied, she took the old sheets and, without any sign of hesitation, hopped up on one of the old chairs in the room and balanced on her eight-inch stilettos as the chair wobbled back and forth.
“Uh, don’t fall?” I offered, helpfully. I watched in awe as she turned a plain bedsheet and some thumbtacks into a decent curtain, all while looking like she just walked off a Parisian runway. I knew we were undead, and she probably wouldn’t have gotten hurt if she fell, but still, this woman was kind of a badass. If I had known her when we were both alive and if she hadn’t wrecked my entire world, I would probably have a serious woman crush on her.
“There. Now we won’t have to look at one another. I need to get ready for tonight’s dinner. I hear it’s quite the event. I suggest you find an outfit that doesn’t look like you’re trying to be Forever Twenty-One incarnate. There will be a lot of eyes on us tonight.”
I set down the unopened blood bag and shoved aside the sheet to talk to her. “What do you mean?” I asked. She huffed, like my presence offended her.
“I mean this is the first time everyone in this community will ever see you. People already don’t want either of us here. I’m too old. You’re too...unimportant for the rank you hold. I suggest you learn as much as you can over the next three hours and look your best, Barbie. I might be old, but I know politics. The show begins tonight.”
I swallowed as Bitchy Betty took out her pearl earrings and started stripping out of her clothes. Nope. I didn’t want to see naked Granny today. I made my way to the other side of the partition and punctured the blood bag with my teeth.
Shit. She was right.
I mentally went over every outfit I had as I sipped my blood. I had a stunning black to pale pink ombre Badgley Mischka gown that I wore for a work conference last year, hanging in my closet at home. That would be perfect, but since Rocky packed for me, I was at his mercy for my fashion choices.
I finished my snack and willed myself to get up and look in my closet, praying to the god of the undead that Rocky slipped something spectacular in there. I was frantically pushing hangers aside and cursing Rocky when there was a knock at the door. I heard Betty open it and then shut it again a minute later.
She came sauntering over to my side of the room holding a giant box with a deep red bow. She handed it to me and perched on the edge of my coffin. I stared at her until she unapologetically said, “I want to see what it is, so you may as well open it.”
“Fine,” I said as I ripped the ribbon off and lifted the top off the box. Inside was a beautiful red dress and a note. I lifted the dress out of the box and held it up. It was an off-the-shoulder A-line with tulle that cascaded down into an asymmetrical hem. All the note said was, “Shine like a ruby.”
“Who’s it from?” Betty teased, knowing full well who sent it. “I bet you’re loving that status now, huh?”
Even though the dress was thoughtful and stunning, I scowled at her. I didn’t like all the things she insinuated. I spent my entire life working for everything I owned. I started at the bottom at my company. I gave up relationships and a social life so that I could focus on myself and my success. I wasn’t familiar with vampire politics, but I wasn’t about to change who I was because I was suddenly undead. “I actually think this would look better on you, Betty,” I said before shoving the box at her chest. She gaped at me.
“Are you insane? This is a limited Valentino gown.” She stroked the fabric tenderly.
“More the reason not to wear it. I don’t take expensive gifts from men I barely know, and I don’t dress up to play games. I’ll be attending tonight as myself—not as whoever King Diego wants me to dress up as.”
Betty gave me a genuine smile. “Maybe you aren’t completely pathetic after all—stupid, but not pathetic.”
Betty looked me over, assessing me from top to bottom. She disappeared around the sheet and returned moments later holding a slinky black gown. She held it out to me as I looked at her suspiciously.
“Does it have itching powder in it or something?” I asked, staring at the dress like it was a snake.
“No. A dress for a dress is fair. It’s no Valentino, but I think it will fit you perfectly. Take it before I change my mind.”
As soon as I accepted the dress, Betty took the box and disappeared to her side of the room. Maybe sharing a room with her for the next few weeks wasn’t going to be so terrible after all. And now I had something to wear tonight. Something that didn’t scream that I was Diego’s pet.
“Hey, Betty?” I yelled over. “Did that box happen to have any shoes in it?”
“Yes, and you’re stuck with the ones he gave you because your feet are freakishly small,” she said, reaching her arm around the curtain and dropping some black sling backs on the floor. I was secretly relieved; the torture traps that Betty strapped to her feet terrified me. I could rock stilettos, but hers held skyscraper status. Even her sandals were more like stilts. “And please try to hide those ghastly circles under your eyes. I don’t want to be seen with someone who doesn’t know what concealer is.”
I take it back. Betty was still a bitch—just with style.
Diego
I pulled at the collar of my shirt while checking my watch. Where the hell was she? I told Rocky to collect Drew from her room thirty minutes ago. The council was waiting. Didn’t she understand how important it was that she be here on time?
“Where is your new charge, Diego?” Graham asked while sipping on his chalice of type O blood. Graham ha
d spiked red hair, dark skin, and a superiority complex. He’d been gunning for my position for a while now, but he wasn’t of royal blood. He liked to undermine me at every turn, and this little slipup was a mistake he reveled in.
I hated the bastard. And even more so, I hated him for petitioning to keep Betty Wright around. What was his angle? I didn’t get what he was trying to accomplish here. What did he know that I didn’t know? Once again, I wished that I had my grandparents here to guide me through the needs of the council.
“I sent Rocky for her. Maybe she’s feeding again. You know how fledglings can be the first few days. Insatiable,” I replied in a bored tone before sinking in my seat at the head of the table. Our lunchroom looked like a five-star restaurant. Humans petitioning to be turned were dressed in waiter attire and serving the various tables around the room. She better be having trouble with her outfit, not standing me up. The council didn’t take kindly to vampires who didn’t show up for coven dinners.
“She’s a new fledgling. Give her some credit. I happen to remember your last sponsored change hiding in her room for five days straight, Graham. Where did you meet her again? A gentleman’s club?” Claire asked before sipping her blood. She looked elegant as always, with her black hair tied up on top of her head and her ruby nails clicking against her crystal glass. Claire was one of the oldest vampires here, a rare blood-born like me. Both her parents had been friends with mine. Many vampires respected her opinion, and I was thankful she came out of retirement to take a seat on the council. Her sparkling dress shimmered in the candlelight.
“I met Star at a country club, thank you very much,” Graham replied, his tone respectful with an undercurrent of embarrassment. “Her family made a sizable donation to the coven in exchange for changing her. Fledglings aren’t ideal, but at least all my sponsored humans have contributed in some way or another to our society.” Graham gave me a dirty look. “Let’s give her, say, five more minutes before we become concerned?”