by Jen Pretty
I laughed at how awkward I was, trying to fit in the plane seat with him, but he folded me until I fit perfectly. Then he wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. We sat like that, my ear to his silent chest, his chin resting on top of my head until the pilot came over the speakers and announced we would land soon.
Matthew stood and set me in his seat, buckling my seatbelt and then sitting beside me. He took my hand.
“You don’t have to hold my hand,” I said.
“Yes, but I want to,” he replied, squeezing my hand and holding it tight. He smiled at me. Past his shoulder, out the window, I saw the lights of Las Vegas. The city laid out like a brilliant patchwork blanket in the middle of the desert. The sun was rising in the east, casting a warm glow over everything.
The plane touched down, and we walked through the bustling airport to a waiting car. It wasn’t just any car. It was Priscilla. My 1968 Pontiac Firebird. She was even more beautiful in the Las Vegas lights. The city reflected off her white paint like she was part of the city. Like she was Las Vegas.
“How did you get here?” I asked her as I ran my hand across her beautiful hood.
“I had her shipped here. Your mechanic is excellent,” Matthew said from over my shoulder.
“Brian. I need to pay him.”
“I took care of it.”
“Thank you. Brian is a good man.”
I slid into the driver’s seat and took a moment to commune with my car. To apologize for crashing her into a gazebo and for leaving her so long. Then I turned the key and her engine roared to life. The rumble of her exhaust and the smell of oil and gasoline brought up memories of open roads. We had seen many years together.
Matthew and Thor got in and discussed business as I drove us through the city to the Strip. I ignored their muttering and focused on the sounds and the lights. My senses had slept for four years and now felt raw and open like a new wound under the glare of the lights and the pounding of the music. A few buildings had changed, but the city stayed the same; the rush and the sense of urgency, like a hummingbird flapping its wings so fast, it straddled life and death every second. The beat of the nightclubs like the heart of the city, pounding all day and all night.
When I pulled up to the Red Oasis, it looked the same too. But what was four years to a building of brick and steel? The lights flashed and spun like a bird displaying its colourful plumage. I drove into the dark of the underground garage and parked beside Matthew’s reserved parking space, occupied by a Corolla. I laughed. It was a blue one now. I supposed if he was going to drive a Corolla, at least he wasn’t driving an old one.
“What's so funny?” Matthew asked.
“Your car choice.”
“Some things change and still stay the same,” he said. His words struck me silent.
I turned off the engine and ran my hand over the dashboard. Priscilla stayed the same.
We got out and took the elevator to the lobby. They had remodeled it since I was last here. The counter had a sleeker, modern, frosted glass top and all the shops had matching frosted glass frames around their display windows. There were more lights and the new design had a more spacious feel.
“I have some work to catch up on, but I’ll come get you tonight and take you out. You should dine again.”
I nodded, and he handed me a key card.
“I kept your room for you. Your clothes are there or you can pick out some new clothes in the boutique if you like,” he said before he kissed my cheek and turned away. He and Thor disappeared down the back halls.
An uncomfortable feeling settled in my stomach. Was I going to live here and spend Matthew’s money? He had a lot, but it didn’t feel right. I pushed the thought aside for now. I had cooled considerably over the last 24 hours and knew just the place to get warmed up.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The sauna was perfect. There were several people lounging around inside, but they spoke in hushed whispers and the room was hot as hell. I sighed and leaned back against the wall. My skin flushed as the heat permeated my bones. I stayed in there for an hour, listening to the quiet conversation of the humans. Getting little glimpses of their lives like a snapshot; there and then gone.
When I walked back out a young man stood from a bench. He was tall and broad. It wasn't until my eyes got to his face that I recognized him. Ben’s hair was cut shorter. He had grown into his lanky body and his face had filled so his square jaw and high cheekbones made him handsome instead of gawky.
“Whoa, Ben. You’re hot,” I said with a wink.
He looked down, his cheeks going pink. I noticed the scar on his neck where the vampires who kidnapped him ripped him open.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
He took out a small device, the size of a phone and typed into it like he was texting, but when he looked up again, the small device spoke for him in a masculine voice. “I live here. Matthew put me through college and gave me a job on his IT security team when I graduated last spring.”
“That’s great,” I said.
Ben typed again.
“I’m glad Matthew could rescue you the way you rescued me,” the electronic voice chirped.
I looked away.
“Sure. Listen, I have to get going, but I’ll see you around, ok?”
Ben stared at me for a minute and then nodded.
I walked through the lobby to the door that led to the back halls, then through the halls to Matthew’s office. I knocked and walked in. Remembering the last time I did that. When I saw him smiling at the blonde.
I shut the door behind me and Matthew looked up, his eyes sliding over my body, and I realized I was still in a swimsuit.
“What is wrong with me?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?” he replied.
“No, there is something wrong with me.”
He stood up looking concerned. “They starved you for four years, I don’t imagine everything will be as it was right away.”
He didn’t understand and I couldn’t explain it. “You are probably right,” I said and turned to go, but he took my hand and stopped me.
“You can tell me anything, you know. If you want to talk about what happened to you or anything else, I will always be here.”
I bit my lip and nodded. He let me go, and I walked back out of his office.
I went up to my room and got dressed, then back down and out of the building. I followed the sidewalk, letting my feet walk me in whatever direction they wanted to go. This unsettled feeling was eating at me.
I found myself in front of the small white chapel, so I went inside. Hopefully, Father Elvis would have something to say.
When I walked in, the place was empty. It was the first time no one was around. I sat down in one of the tiny pews and waited.
Several minutes later, Father Elvis came out of a back room, buckling up his pants. His hair was grayer and his face was more lined. A brunette in a short skirt followed behind him, popping gum into her mouth. He saw me and stopped, and the brunette just walked past him and out the front door like I wasn’t even there.
“Jesus, Ren. I thought you had left the city. What can I do for you?” he asked straightening his shirt.
I chuckled and shook my head. “Nothing.” I stood to leave but then turned back. “Do you think a person can change?”
He paused for a moment. “If you are in old habits, set in your old ways, changes are a coming, for these are changing days,” he sang the words with a western twang.
I nodded and walked back out of the chapel.
As the sun hid its eyes from the sins of the night, the people spilled out onto the streets. The music got louder as the crowds got thicker. Tourists with cameras were trying to take pictures of the night scenes. Evangelicals on the street corners, screaming about the good Lord. Homeless people settling down on cardboard boxes in back alleys. Drug dealers sitting on darkened street corners and passing out their wares to anyone with money.
Club Vein w
as busy. I wasn’t wearing the best clothes for clubbing, but I went in anyway. It was early for hunting, so I ordered a drink and sat at the bar.
“This seat taken?” I looked beside me to see Matthew’s smiling face. I smiled back as he sat down and ordered a drink. “You weren’t in your room.”
“Had things to do,” I said.
Matthew looked like he wanted to ask what I was up to, but held back. The DJ set up and began playing music as Matthew and I sat there.
“You took care of Ben,” I said
“Yeah, I figured if you saved him, he was worth saving,” he said.
“I didn’t save him,” I muttered.
“What?”
“I said I didn’t save him. I was using his laptop. Err, I wanted to use his laptop. It has a password, I wanted…Never mind.” I spoke so fast I wasn’t sure if Matthew understood what I was saying.
Matthew turned in his bar stool so he was facing me. Then he studied me for a moment.
I kept my eyes on my glass, using my thumb to wipe the condensation from the outside.
“Thank you,” he said. Then he took my hand and pulled me onto the dance floor. It was still empty, but Matthew tugged me into his arms and held me tight, moving me to the music. We danced for a long time, until the club filled with people and the heat of their bodies warmed the whole place. The smell of liquor and humanity tickled my nose and my teeth ached.
I scanned the room, looking for someone to hunt. Matthew moved his face in front of mine. He opened his mouth in a silent hiss, flashing his fangs at me, and then let me go and backed away until he had disappeared in the crowd like it was a wave taking him under.
I stood shocked for a minute until the hairs on the back of my neck rose and I spun around. It reminded me of the night they took me, but I shoved that thought away. Matthew was here. Now. I knew it was his eyes tracking me. The rush I felt was like the highest high. I danced with a pretty boy as a hunter hunted me.
When I hadn’t felt him stalking me for a while, I moved across to the bar and ordered a drink. Then I felt him again. I spun to look for him, but he was invisible on the crowd. I sat on the bar stool and scanned the room. I thought I might have seen his head for a second by the DJ. I finished my drink and danced through the humans towards the front of the stage. When I got there, I couldn’t see him, but felt his eyes on my back. This time I didn’t turn around. I started dancing with a skinny punk kid. His hair was shaved into a short pink mohawk and the chains around his neck clinked, reminding me of being chained up in the basement.
I moved away from him and the memory he brought until I was next to a big muscular man. He turned and wrapped his thick arms around me and we danced while Matthew's eyes burned into my neck. I felt a cool breath on the back of my neck as his presence overwhelmed me. He hissed and the muscular guy dropped his hands from my hips like I had burned him.
I laughed and leaned back into Matthew’s cool chest. His hands slid on to my hips and he pulled me flush against him as we moved to the beat in the middle of the sea of people. His mouth was at my ear until it slid down to my neck towards my collarbone. I tipped my head sideways and shivered. His cool lips traced the length of my neck, but his swaying body never lost the rhythm of the music. Finally, his hand came up and pointed to a leggy blonde. He definitely had a type.
He let me go, and I danced towards her. Then I turned in front of her and took her hand. She smiled at me and kept dancing. I moved in so our bodies were touching. She smelled like cinnamon candy hearts. Matthew’s moved in behind her and I held his eyes over her shoulder, giving him a smirk. When the music switched to a new song, I bared my fangs at the young woman. Her eyes went wide, and she tipped her head in invitation. Matthew turned her body so he could keep eye contact with me and latched onto her neck. His arms wrapped around her as her eyes rolled up in her head.
Matthew drank his fill, his eyes never leaving mine and let her go. She teetered for a second and caught her balance, then wandered towards the bar.
Matthew took me back in his arms and sealed his mouth to mine. He smelled like candy and tasted delicious, making my teeth ache even more. I wanted to go find my dinner, but when I pulled away, he held tighter and tipped his head.
I stared into his eyes for a moment, unsure if he was serious. His smile was like the sun shining on a hot summer morning.
I leaned in and licked his neck and his hand slid into my hair, cradling the back of my head. The moan that left my throat was cut off by the tang of his blood as it slid into my mouth like syrup. My heart sputtered and then pounded louder than the baseline of the music in the club, drowning out the sounds around me. Just his heart and mine, nothing else. I expected his knees to give out, but instead, he swayed to our rhythm, and when I had drunk my fill, I pulled my teeth from his neck and let a drop appear on the surface of his skin as his body healed. The strobe lights from above reflected off the shiny drop of blood before I licked it. Then I threw my head back and let Matthew move me like I was a rag doll. His heart and mine, beating together. Thump. Thump. Thump. Totally attuned. Just us two.
The night went on and on and when we left the club, we went home together.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“I’d like you to talk to Emily again,” Matthew said the next day in his office. I had been flipping through a medical book. I found it funny that Matthew had learned to heal humans. He was an MD who ran a casino. If any old people who came to gamble had a heart attack when they lost all their money, he could save their lives.
“Why?” I asked. I knew why I wanted him to say it out loud.
“Because she can help you. You’ve been through a lot and I think you have things you need to talk about.”
“Emily is afraid of me,” I said, dropping my eyes back to the photo of all the veins in a human body. They had a ton of veins.
“What have you done to dissuade her fear of you?”
He had a point. But did I want her to not be afraid of me? What purpose did that serve?
“She’s obsessed with you and my father,” I complained.
“Is she? Or did she want you to talk about me and your father?”
I didn’t reply. I flipped the page and looked at the anatomy chart on the next page. Naked man pictures trumped nagging psychiatrist boyfriends. Did I call him my boyfriend? Yeah, let’s pretend I didn’t.
—
November 30th, 1963
The sixties were a haven for vampires. Everyone was high, and we took them higher.
“No, man. Hydrogen bombs. They will wipe out the whole world, man.”
“Nothing lasts forever,” Walt replied, coolly.
Walt was a vampire, but, at the time, I thought he had no dreams of climbing the vampire hierarchy. He was a rebel, and we fed off each other, figuratively. And sometimes literally.
“There is no life after death. We will all be dead.” The stoner's were such philosophers.
“Maybe you will be, but I plan to live forever,” Walt replied, turning and flashing me his fangs where the silly humans couldn’t see.
I laughed and leaned back in my seat. Walt and I hitched a ride in the little Volkswagen bus with five humans who were crossing the country. It was cramped and uncomfortable most of the time, but they were going our way and they were delicious. At night they would set up tents and camp along the side of the road or at a music concert. We had already been travelling a week but had only made it from Texas to the Mississippi. It was a very interesting time to be alive. The counterculture suited me and my interests. People drifted and paused often. We could walk up to anyone with a spare seat in their vehicle and they would welcome us along, but it was still before the coming out, so the fact they were all stoned covered our tracks.
The man finally passed out, leaving Walt and I to ourselves. The silence stretched on for a minute and then Walt spoke again. “I have to tell you something, Nia.”
“What is it?” I laughed, assuming his serious tone was a joke.
; “It’s serious.” He looked back at me and his face matched his tone for once.
“What?”
“I’ve done something. I thought they would protect me, but I think they’ve thrown me under the bus.”
Walt’s eyes had no twinkle of mischief. I studied his face, trying to decide if I wanted to know or not.
“Just know, I did what they told me to do. I didn’t want to, but…” He reached over and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.
“But what?” I asked cautiously.
“It’s nothing. The paranoid humans are probably rubbing off on me.” He smoothed back his long hair and shook off the serious mask, but a feeling of dread settled in my stomach.
The next morning, the hippies gathered themselves up and drove us on past the Mississippi River and just kept going right into Alabama. The further we drove, the more Walt seemed to calm down. His twinkle returned, but sometimes I caught him repeatedly glancing out the back window like he thought we were being followed. I saw nothing.
Just outside Tuscaloosa, we pulled off into a quiet park and the hippies wandered into the forest. They liked the forest, but Walt and I would often have to go track them down if they were gone too long. They would pass out in a group and then wake up and do more drugs. Walt and I lay in the back of the bus, relaxing. I was trying to get some sleep, but Walt was tossing and turning. I put my hand on his chest to stop him, he sighed and stilled.
The screech of tires, cut through the silence and Walt shot up like something had bitten him. He crawled to the front of the bus and out the door.
I went after him but was stopped at the door by a solid body.
“Lavinia, what are you doing running with the likes of this man?”
“Father,” I breathed. “How did you find me?”
“I always know where you are Lavinia, but I am not here for you, only your companion.”