by Kol Anderson
"Sure," Liam responded.
"If you need anything Zachary can drive you."
Zachary was one of Austin's ‘men' who also seemed to be outside their house at pretty much any given time. Liam wondered when the guy went to bed, or if he ever did. He looked less like a human and more like something a bunch of people had forced into being in a scientific lab. He had a nasty scar running along the length of his chin. He never spoke, nothing besides a grunt here and there or a simple "Where?" every time he was supposed to drive Liam somewhere. Austin said the man was there for Liam's security, but Liam was certain Zachary was more prison guard than bodyguard.
That evening Liam wore his best clothes and ordered from an expensive Asian restaurant items the names of which he couldn't even pronounce. By exactly eight in the evening he was ready, just like Austin had wanted him to be. By eight-ten Austin and his friends were at the door, laughing and cracking jokes. Liam took a deep breath. He had never had ‘company over' before in his life. It was the first time he was entertaining friends and Liam decided he would be cordial and generally well-behaved, won't give Austin a reason to be mad at him, just like he had been successfully doing for all those weeks.
When the five men finally entered the house, Liam realized they were all drunk. Including Austin. They stumbled and said crude things all through dinner and one of them, the one sitting next to Liam constantly kept reaching under the table and trying to touch Liam's thigh. Twice Liam had to pry the man's hand away.
"Austin," one of the friends said half-way through Chicken Teriyaki. "Your boy looks appropriately handsome."
"He better be," Austin said. "He didn't come for free you know!"
Liam tightened his hold on the napkin.
"Is he just good looking or is he good in bed too?" someone else asked. Liam didn't care to find out who, he kept his eyes on his meal plate. What did it matter who said it? They were all the same. To them, Liam was this enormously funny joke. The whore who's trying to play house. Well, he was though, wasn't he? He was a joke! It wouldn’t be a surprise if Moira and the bartender now laughed at him behind his back. At least they would be doing it behind his back and not right in front of him, like these assholes. He re-filled his wine glass a third time. But as the men kept going in the same vein, he knew wine wasn't going to cut it. He excused himself and went to the kitchen, took out his emergency stash from one of the cabinets, behind a container of sugar. He was doing the lines on the kitchen counter on top of a silver tray when one of the men, the one who had been sitting next to him, barged in through the doors. Liam tried to hide his stash, but the man started to apologize. "It's okay," he said. “You don't have to hide."
He walked over the few steps towards Liam and kept staring at him. "I'm sorry," he said after a while. "You're really…" The doors opened and Austin came in, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "What's taking so long?" he said to Liam. "Everyone at the table is missing you!' He grabbed Liam's arm and led him away from the counter, didn't even seem to notice the other man. Austin pushed Liam toward the table and made him sit. Liam pretended to eat, but instead all he did was get more of the wine inside him. Austin was too drunk to notice, and anyway what did Austin care if he ate or not? The man sitting next to him was back. His mustached face was plump and red from all the laughing. He constantly wiped beads of perspiration from his forehead and nose. The cheap perfume the man wore overwhelmed Liam's nostrils, but he supposed it was better than what Austin smelled like at the moment.
"Did I tell you the story of how I met the little shit?" Austin said. The ‘little shit' in the story was obviously Liam. "Well, it was a nice night and I was trying to get some sleep but I couldn't. I was tense, you know? Had a rough day, needed to blow off steam. So I take Zachary and he drives me to this roadside where there's a brothel nearby. It's one of the brothels that comes under my jurisdiction, so I knew I wasn't going to have any problems. Anyway, so there I was looking for something to get my mind off things and I see him. He was standing outside on his own, a tiny little thing in his old coat. He looked new so I guessed Madame Molly got a new hire. Sure enough, when I go inside, Molly calls him inside."
"And then?" one of the men asked when Austin paused.
"And then I paid for him and fucked him all night!" Austin said. "Did you think this was some kind of love story? He's a fucking whore for Christ’s sake!"
Everyone started to laugh. Everyone but the pervert sitting next to Liam. Suddenly, the rage inside Liam was becoming unbearable and he pushed his plate aside, got up from his chair. He was breathing hard, dying to say something but instead he decided to walk away in silence. But before he could do it, Austin grabbed his arm. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" He was looking up at Liam so Liam realized he had to say something.
"I'm tired."
"You're not tired until I say you're tired," Austin said, letting go of his arm and going back to his food. "I don't care if you eat or not, but you're going to sit until we're done eating."
Liam didn't even glance at the others. "I'm tired," he repeated.
Austin let go of his knife and fork and they hit the plate with a clink. He wiped his mouth and stood up to face Liam. Before Liam could think, Austin swung his fist at him. Right away thick fluid streamed from Liam's nose. "Did you really think I was going to spare you on account of them?" Austin said. "I can do worse if you don't put your ass back in that seat."
"Austin," the mustache man said. "It's okay. He won't do it again, will you, Liam?"
Austin glared at Liam. "Well?"
Liam couldn't understand why he was unable to bring himself to say what he was supposed to say. Why he couldn't just let go of his anger. What right did he have to be angry anyway? These men didn't owe him anything, no one owed him anything. "I'm sorry," he said.
"You should be thankful to Gary," Austin said, sitting back down on the chair. "He's the one who saved you."
Liam was still standing there lost, when Austin threw a bread roll at him and it missed Liam's eye by mere millimeters. "Aren't you going to thank Gary?" Austin said.
"Austin, it's okay." Mustache Man said.
"No no," Austin said. "He needs to learn some discipline. Just because his stupid parents didn't teach him, doesn't mean he gets to insult everyone around him."
Liam knew he was probably supposed to feel something at the parents' jibe, that's how Austin must have intended it, but what Austin didn't know was that Liam had been away from his real parents for so long he didn't even know what it felt like to be mad or happy about anything related to them. Still though, he turned to the clearly uncomfortable Mustache Man. "Thank you, Gary."
Mustache Man flashed a desultory smile and gulped his wine. He continued wiping the sweat beads off his face as Liam sat next to him. Austin got busy telling another story, finally something not Liam related, and Liam used this time to take Mustache Man's hand and placed it on his thigh. He glanced at Mustache Man and smiled. Mustache Man gave him a nervous smile in return and Liam turned to watching Austin's face and instead he found something else to concentrate on—a tiny brown stain on the wall behind Austin.
He hadn't checked but he was pretty sure there was no blizzard outside.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jensen woke up to silence in the mansion and no sign of Kent. His bones ached as though he had just come back from battle. He set the blanket aside and sat up on the sofa. His head felt heavy, pressurized as though it was about to burst.
"You're up." Kent's voice made the headache worse.
Jensen rubbed two fingers on his temple. "What happened?"
"Don't you remember?"
Jensen vaguely remembered vampires bringing him here and Kent biting him. He touched his neck and the wound was still there. "Am I," Jensen began, hating to say the next word, "turned?"
"Almost there," Kent said, tapping on the coffee table where there was a set of neatly ironed clothes; a pair of jeans and a black shirt that looked like they were his size. "I didn't exa
ctly have time to shop," Kent said. "But these should do for now." Saying this, Kent turned his back to Jensen and walked over to the liquor cabinet. Jensen took off his shirt while Kent selected himself a bottle and poured himself a drink. "Are you feeling okay?" Kent asked.
"Fine," Jensen said, pulling on the new pair of jeans. He was buttoning his shirt by the time Kent walked back with a drink glass. "This will help," he said.
Jensen took the glass and tasted it. He had expected his taste buds to diminish or something but that wasn't the case. If anything he could taste every little note in the bourbon, even the white oak barrel that the whiskey had been stored in. He finished the drink and realized just how thirsty he had been without even knowing it.
"Good?" Kent said, taking the empty glass from him.
"Better than I expected."
Kent took the empty glasses to the liquor cabinet, placed them on the counter. "That's what I needed to know," he said. "It means you're doing well."
"What now?"
Kent turned to face him. "Now," he said. "We're going to take a little trip."
***
The sun hurt Jensen's eyes and Kent handed him a pair of sunglasses. They got in Kent's S-Class Mercedes and Kent got in the driver's seat. He pulled the seatbelt over his chest and they drove out of the mansion's driveway and into the street. "The sun," Jensen said. "It feels horrible."
"It's only going to get worse," Kent said. "The light is kind of our enemy."
"But you don't seem affected."
Kent rolled up his sleeve to show Jensen the same scorpion tattoo that the girl vampire had on her midriff. "See this?" he said. "This keeps us safe."
"From sunlight?"
"Only from sunlight."
"How?"
"It's a witch thing," Kent said. "I'll tell you the story some other time."
They drove in silence until Kent stopped the car where a woman stood wearing a leather skirt and boots. She looked like she was waiting for someone. Kent rolled down his window. "Hi," he said to the woman. The woman walked toward the car and stopped right by Kent's window. "Want to go with us?" Kent said, looking into her eyes. The woman glanced at Jensen once and then got in the back. Jensen was still staring at her when Kent drove off.
She looked back at Jensen but still didn't say a word.
"You did that?" Jensen said.
"Yes."
"Can I do that?"
"Not yet," Kent said.
Jensen still couldn't stop staring but she didn't seem to mind. "When?" he asked. "When will I be able to do this?"
Kent glared at him. "Soon."
He drove toward a secluded junkyard.
"Here?" Jensen asked.
"Where did you think we were going?" Kent asked.
"I don't know," Jensen said. "The cemetery?"
Kent took off his seatbelt and moved over to the back next to the woman and hiked up her skirt. The woman leaned into him and they kissed. Kent broke away and his hand lifted the woman's dark hair from her neck. He turned to Jensen. "Watch."
Fangs appeared in Kent's mouth and he bent to bite the woman on the neck. The woman screamed but she didn't struggle. Not even when Kent sank his fangs deeper into her neck and started to drink her blood. The look of fear in her eyes was real. Jensen sensed how badly she wanted to leave. His fangs still lodged in the woman's neck, Kent gestured with his free hand for Jensen to come closer. So Jensen went to sit on the woman's other side and took her arm, lifted the sleeve of the leather jacket. Her skin was soft, supple. Full of life. A strange sensation in his mouth made Jensen curious and he touched his teeth; he was surprised to find the fangs at first, but then he couldn't resist taking a plunge in the woman's blood pool—
A glorious feeling came over him the minute the first few drops of blood went in. Pure bliss surrounded Jensen. The euphoria only got better and more amplified as time passed. Jensen lost himself, absorbed in rapture—
"Jensen," Kent's voice came from somewhere far far away…
"Jensen!" More insistent, but Jensen couldn't make himself stop.
Then something yanked him out of paradise, dropped him harshly back to Earth. Jensen found Kent prying him off the woman who seemed to have stopped screaming but was still crying uncontrollably. "Jensen," Kent said. "You have to stop."
"But I'm thirsty!"
Kent thrust Jensen's face toward the woman who was going pale. "You see that?" Kent said. "You're going too far."
The hunger was still inside him and Jensen felt annoyed. "I need more!"
"Jensen," Kent said. "I said that's enough."
Jensen unwillingly let go of the woman's hand. Kent cleaned up her wound with some tissue from the woman's purse and wrapped her scarf around her neck securely so the wounds were no longer even noticeable at first sight. "Forget this happened," he said to the woman, looking into her eyes. "Okay, sweetheart?"
The woman nodded, still crying.
"Make sure no one sees the bite marks," Kent said. "Cover them until they're healed."
The woman gave another nod of her head even though it was obvious she was in pain. Kent turned to Jensen. "Wipe that blood off your face." It was the first time Jensen realized how little blood Kent had on his face and none on his clothes. He was obviously practiced. He didn't even cause much blood to spill on the woman's clothes. Right now, Jensen felt like the most tactless creature ever to be made immortal. He envied Kent's poise, the way he carried himself and kept his shit together. Jensen wanted to be more like him and he had no idea if the blood was making him feel that way. When Kent started the car, Jensen went back to sit in the front seat and retrieved a box of tissues from the glove compartment which he used to clean the blood off himself.
"Why am I still thirsty?" Jensen asked.
"It won't be that way forever."
"Yes, but when is it going to end?"
"You need to relax," Kent said. "You're doing well for a vampire your age."
It was the first time someone had used the word ‘vampire' for Jensen. "What's that supposed to mean?" he said, checking his reflection in the side-view mirror on his end to make sure there wasn't any leftover blood on his face. He couldn't put a finger on it but his face looked different to him. Of course, that could have been his imagination.
"The younger you turn someone," Kent said, "the more thirst they have and the harder they are to control and mold into what they call upstanding citizens. The younger ones tend to be more reckless, a lot more impulsive than the older ones."
"I'm twenty-four in case you were wondering."
Kent looked at Jensen strangely. There wasn't disbelief in his eyes so much as—guilt? Of course that wasn't important anymore. It was like the vampire said before, it didn't matter how it came about, what matters is that it did happen. Jensen felt an odd churning in his gut. "Stop the car," he said.
"What is it?"
"Please stop the car!"
Kent brought the car to a stop and Jensen rushed out the door, moved far enough away from the Mercedes and started throwing up. It was mostly blood but some remnants of food that must swirled around in his system for all the time he was asleep on Kent's sofa. "What's happening?" Jensen asked with a hoarse voice. The sickness inside him seemed to be getting better after the hurl.
"The process is completed," Kent said. "You're officially a vampire now."
Jensen hadn't expected to feel the joy he felt after that. Before he could contemplate this, he felt a burning sensation in his arm that turned to a sharp pain and when he lifted his arm to see what it was, he found the skin blistering just a little and the feel of a third degree burn, kind of like the way he had felt when one of his foster home brothers had touched him with a red-hot poker. Kent saw this and immediately dragged Jensen toward the car. He pushed Jensen inside the passenger side and used one of his controls to activate the UV filter on the windows and the windshield. The burn wound on Jensen's hand started to lessen, and soon there were new cells covering that place.
Je
nsen watched in awe.
"I almost forgot about the sun," Kent said.
"Am I supposed to stay indoors now?"
"No," Kent said, starting the car. "We'll need a more permanent solution."
"You mean the witch tattoo?"
"Yes."
Jensen glanced at the woman sitting in the back with her running mascara eyes. "Is she going to be okay?"
Kent shot a glance at the rear-view. "She'll live."
"Won't this like, traumatize her?"
"Of course it will."
"And that doesn't bother you?"
"There are worse things happening in the world. If I got bothered by all of it, I wouldn't be able to get up in the morning. Besides, I highly doubt she hasn't been traumatized before by something much worse. Vampires aren't the only creatures harming humans. They're doing a pretty good job of it on their own. Are you still hungry?"
"Yeah."
"We'll get you some more soon," Kent said. "Maybe not something right from the source."
"You mean a blood bag?"
"Yes."
"What, do you like store blood bags in your fridge or something?"
"Yes."
"Seriously?"
"Where else can you store blood?"
"What if you have a guest and they look?"
"I don't get a lot of human guests," Kent said. "Certainly not the sort I'd let into my kitchen."
"You don't have human friends anymore?"
"It's complicated when you're a vampire. You'll learn that soon enough. The closer you are to someone the more prone you are to revealing your true identity. You can't just go around erasing people's memories, especially someone you consider a friend. Don't you think that would defy the whole purpose of being a close friend?"
"I guess."
"Don't worry," Kent said. "There are more vampires than you think in Wentworth. I doubt you're going to end up being lonely for long."
Jensen thought about Moira and the bartender. "Will I be able to see my friends once in a while though?"