by Amanda Long
“I haven't thought about it and I don't care. I mean, does it even matter?”
Swerving, Thomas almost ran the car off the road. “Does it even matter?! Of course, it matters!” Thomas snapped before explaining. “No two person's blood tastes the same. Each gender, age, ethnicity has their own unique flavor. I, myself, prefer young, college age, Caucasian females, fresh from the discerning eye of mom and dad. Their blood has an innocent taste with just a hint of bad girl – which I fully exploit before finishing them off. Also, what they eat, drink, and if they are fat or thin, affect the taste of their blood.”
He talks of blood as if it’s wine and he is a connoisseur.
Thomas' speech and the way he described humans as produce turned Dorian's stomach, but his hunger far exceeded his disgust.
“How about since this is my first time, I just bite the first person I come across? Keep it simple, just this once. Next time, I promise to have a particular target in mind. Please excuse my lack of knowledge on the subject of blood flavors?”
“Are you being sarcastic, Dorian?” Thomas turned his head to the right to gauge his facial expression.
“Maybe a little,” retorted Dorian with a smile.
“Well done. At least I have taught you some humor.” Thomas turned his attention back to the road. They had just entered the city. Neon lights were everywhere, causing both vampires to squint, even behind dark sunglasses.
Dorian turned his head to look out the passenger window, searching for his so-called victim. He had been serious about the first person part. He soon spotted a man in a dark alley. “Him,” he pointed.
“A bum – that's who you pick,” Thomas chided as he parked the car on the side of the road. “Oh well. He's probably drunk, which will almost make him worth it.” Stepping out of the car, the stench hit his nostrils, literally knocking him back a step. “Ugh! Hurry up, Dorian, before I vomit!” He yelled back to the car.
“The smell is not that bad,” Dorian commented as he finally exited the car.
“Ha! Just you wait. When your diet consists purely of human blood, your senses will increase exponentially. Then we can discuss the various levels of stench,” Thomas retorted, pressing the back of his hand against his nose and mouth in an attempt to filter out some of the smell. “Well, he hasn't even noticed us yet. That's good sign he is indeed plastered, and I'm picking up a hint of cheap whiskey mixed in with his filth.” Turning his head slightly toward Dorian, who now stood by his side, Thomas prodded, “Well, go ahead.”
“Go ahead, what?” Dorian questioned returning Thomas' stare.
“Bite him. Or have you forgotten about your plan to bite the first person you come across? That is the reason we stopped, isn't it?” He grumbled, losing patience with the whole ordeal.
“You do it first, and then I will know the proper procedure,” Dorian responded, smiling sheepishly.
“Proper procedure – are you kidding me?! You just bite the motherfucker and drink his blood!” Regaining his composure, Thomas finished in a much calmer voice. “Fine, since this is your first human, I will cut you some slack. Hell, I would do just about anything at this point to move things along. You are exhausting, you know that? At least you’re progressing, though.”
The entire time the vampires were standing in the alley arguing, the bum remained slumped over almost unconscious on the ground. Still agitated, Thomas, yanked the man up by his matted mane, sunk his fangs into his neck, and drained him of half his blood within seconds. Releasing him, the bum crumpled onto the ground with eyes glazed with fear.
Dorian stared into the bum's eyes and witnessed the terror they reflected. The site caused him to second guess the validity of his actions. Was it necessary for him to take a human life just to satisfy his need for blood? There were easier and far more humane ways of getting what he needed. He stepped back a few feet from Thomas and the bum.
“He looks so frightened. Maybe this was a mistake. I don't think I'm ready.”
“Of course he's frightened. He's just had half his blood drained. With that being said, he will probably die anyway. There's no sense in him dying for nothing, when he could provide you with sustenance. Look at him. It isn't like he is living the good life. You would be doing him a favor by ending his miserable existence.” Seeing Dorian still hesitating after his attempt to ease any moral qualms, Thomas switched tactics. Grabbing Dorian by his shirt, he pulled him close. He spoke forcefully, inches way from Dorian's face. “Now, you're going to 'man up' and drink from this waste of space, even if I have to force you to, and don't think that I can't.” He released Dorian with a shove toward his victim.
Why am I so conflicted? I didn't have a problem killing animals in the forest. But I was angry then, making it far easier. Ugh! I didn't choose to become what I am, so why should it bother me to do what is normal for my current state of being. I want blood, I need blood. So it’s time to stop the inner monologue and take it.
Dorian knelt down beside the man, who had since passed out. Sinking his teeth into the bum's neck exactly where Thomas had, he drank the warm salty blood laced with alcohol, savoring it. The magnitude of new sensations created as the blood filtered through his system caused him to stumble back, almost falling on his ass. Staggering slightly, he regained his footing, noticing just how drastically his perception had been altered.
Peering up at the nearby lamp post, he watched in awe as the white light radiating from the beacon, fractured into a rainbow of colors. Numerous insects hovered around the miniature sun. There wings fluttered in slow motion, enough he could count and hear each individual flap.
He thought Thomas had exaggerated when he had informed him that his senses would increase exponentially with the infusion of human blood, but that was far from the case. Now, with little more than a taste of the potent substance, the enhancements were mind blowing.
Turning back to Thomas to admit the accuracy of his assessment, Dorian hesitated, mesmerized by the presence of his companion. Observing him as if for the first time, he soaked in Thomas' masculine perfection: Wavy blonde hair, glowing amber eyes, flawless porcelain skin and supple lips stained red and pulled into a knowing smirk. In that instant, Dorian desired to touch and taste those beautiful lips. Before he could stop himself, his lips where pressed against Thomas'. In the fleeting moments that constituted his first kiss, Thomas' fangs sliced through Dorian's bottom lip. The pain heightened his excitement, inducing a euphoria never experienced before.
Thomas pushed Dorian away. “Excuse me, but you're not my type,” he joked, wiping Dorian's blood and saliva from his lips.
Forcefully removed from his friend before the unfamiliar urges could travel farther south, Dorian froze in utter shock over his impulsive act. Utterly humiliated and confused by the act and rejection, he left with saying a word.
Thomas looked down at what remained of the bum. “Dorian didn't even finish you off, did he? Well, I'm not one to be wasteful,” he sneered.
*****
Dorian leaned against his locked bedroom door, his heart racing from both the sprint home and his panic over what he had just done.
Why did I kiss Thomas?
He ran a finger gently across his lips. Dropping his hand, he started to pace.
What's wrong with me? I shouldn't have these feelings for another male. Not only that, he rejected me. What if he hadn't?
Confused by emotions he had never faced before, Dorian continued to pace, unclear what he should do.
I can't ever face him again. I'll have to leave here, but I don’t have anywhere else to go. I'm not going back to the forest. I like it here. I have an endless supply of books, blood, and a bed that feels like a cloud. I'll just avoid him by staying in my room when he's home.
Dorian stopped his pacing, grabbed a book from his nightstand and flopped onto his bed, determined to sequester himself there for all eternity.
*****
Not seeing, even a glimpse of Dorian for days after his unrequited show of affection, Th
omas thought it best to try and mend the broken bridge between them. Entering Dorian's room uninvited after picking the lock on the door, he found him propped up in bed reading.
“It's bad manners for a house guest to purposely avoid their host. Don't you agree?” Thomas made his way over to sit on the edge of the bed.
Dorian continued to read his book, making no effort to acknowledge his presence. He hoped Thomas would take the hint and go away, since he had no desire to discuss what he knew to be the reason for his visit. In fact, he tried hard to forget the entire evening, pushing the embarrassing event deep inside a back room in his mind, locking the door and throwing away the key.
Unfortunately, the only way he had successfully kept his shame locked away was by avoiding the one thing that had just broken into his room. Seeing Thomas brought the unfortunate event flooding back. Thankfully, the powerful attraction he felt that evening was gone, but the sensation still lingered on his lips. Fighting the urge to touch his, Dorian stared intensely at the words on the page before him.
“Dorian, I owe you an apology,” Thomas stated sincerely.
The word apology caught Dorian's attention, pulling him away from his book long enough to risk a glance at Thomas.
“You caught me off guard that night in the alley. Maybe, if you tried the kiss again, I would be more receptive this time?” Thomas teased, puckering his lips for Dorian to plant another one on him.
Holding back a chuckle ignited by his ridiculous expression, Dorian punched him in the right shoulder.
Relaxing his lips and rubbing his shoulder, Thomas continued with his apology. “No, it's my fault. Drinking human blood can be overwhelming at first. Along with the physical changes, it can cause a myriad of emotions. Given your background, I am sure some of those emotions were quite unfamiliar. I should have anticipated such a reaction and warned you. For that, I am sorry.”
Dorian appreciated Thomas' apology and explanation of his unusual feelings. Oddly, it gave him a sense of normalcy, a rarity in the abnormal world he now existed in. More than anything though, he desperately wanted to forget the incident, “Can we just forget it ever happened?” He begged.
“What happened?” Thomas asked, wearing a puzzled look. Switching gears as only he could, he blurted out, “Hey, let's go do something fun.”
*****
Thomas' idea of something fun was a trip to an indoor shooting range. He conversed with the patron of the established while Dorian perused the various types of firearms lining the back wall. After making arrangements with the owner, Thomas walked over.
“Let's start off small, shall we?” Thomas suggested, gesturing for Dorian to follow him.
From the lobby, he led Dorian into a larger room. Entering one of the many partitioned off booths, Thomas emptied his hands and explained what they were there to do. “I thought it might be fun to do some shooting. Have you ever used a gun before?” Dorian shook his head. “I figured. You're a virgin to a surplus of activities, aren't you? Exposing you to all the world has to offer will be my pleasure,” Thomas declared, lightly patting Dorian on the back while a devious grin graced his face. “Back to shooting. On this counter,” he gestured, “is a gun for each of us and ammunition. Don't worry,” he reassured him. “I will load both guns. All you will need to do is aim and pull the trigger, hopefully hitting one of the targets along the back wall.” He finished by pointing to the black paper outlines of people.
After loading each gun, Thomas pulled out two sets of ear plugs from his pant pockets. “Humans must protect their ears while shooting to prevent damage. Of course, with our healing ability, that is not something we have to worry about. However, since our hearing is far beyond that of humans, the noise will still hurt. So use these.” He handed Dorian a pair and inserting his own. “No need to cause ourselves any unwanted pain.” Once protected from the noise, he instructed Dorian on the proper way to hold, aim and fire his gun.
“Now, go into the next booth and do exactly what I showed you.” When Dorian complied, he called out, “Let the best vamp win.”
Squeezing the trigger, Dorian did his best to aim for the center of the paper outline. Seventeen times he repeated the process Thomas had shown him. Once both weapons were empty, Thomas pushed a button sending the targets to them.
Upon inspection of the target papers, he congratulated Dorian. “Excellent job. You may have done better than me, but it's hard to tell since we both have matching large, gaping holes in the center of our paper men,” Thomas chuckled, sticking his hand through the hole in the paper. “How about we make this more interesting?” He asked while yanking and tossing both targets aside.
“How?”
“You'll see,” Thomas hollered back, halfway to the back of the range where the targets were located. After positioning himself directly in Dorian's line of sight, he stripped down to his underwear. “Ready! Shoot me!” He shouted, arms outstretched and a crazy smile on his face.
“What?” Dorian spat, not believing what he had just been asked to do.
“Shoot me!” Thomas yelled louder.
“Are you insane?!” Dorian sputtered, still shocked by the ridiculous request.
Shrugging his shoulders, Thomas responded, “Maybe. Just do it. Try not to hit me in the face or groin.”
This is the dumbest, insane thing I've ever been asked to do...but it is definitely more interesting that shooting a piece of paper.
Dorian repeated the steps he had apparently mastered moments earlier, judging by Thomas' accolades. Aiming for the exact middle of his chest, Dorian he hoped to miss the two 'off limit' areas.
“Fuck!” Thomas screamed as the bullet hit his chest, causing him to stagger back a step. Looking down at his bloodied chest, he stuck his finger inside the wound to dig out the bullet before it healed. “Wouldn't it be a bitch if my finger healed up inside me and I had to rip my own hand out of myself?” He held the souvenir up to his face to admire it before tucking the bullet into his pocket. “That was exhilarating. Do it again.” Thomas held up his hand after the sixth bullet cratered his chest. “That's enough,” he panted. “Now it's your turn.”
“No.” Dorian shook his head adamantly.
“Come on, don't be a pussy,” Thomas jeered.
“A what?” Dorian asked, not recognizing the slang.
“Never mind,” Thomas sighed, realizing how unworldly Dorian still was, “just get your chicken ass over here. I let you shoot me, now it's my turn to repay the favor.”
“You asked me to shoot you,” Dorian reminded him anxiously.
“So,” Thomas quipped back, shrugging his shoulders before turning serious. “Am I going to have to make you?” Smiling wickedly, he traveled back to the booth where his weapon lay.
Knowing he would force him into compliance, Dorian reluctantly proceeded to the back of the range and disrobed. Standing in Thomas' line of sight, he gritted his teeth and waited for the assault. As soon as the round left the chamber he could tell it was aimed for his head. Even with the speed of a vampire, Dorian had no hope of evading the bullet. It seared his flesh on impact, hitting dead center on his forehead. Then, for the second time in only a few months, Dorian crumpled to the ground, knocked unconscious by Thomas' hand.
Once his vision returned, he stared up at a happy Thomas.
“I must have hit something important in there, since you blacked out for a second.” He pointed to Dorian's freshly healed forehead.
“You jerk,” Dorian hissed, swatting away Thomas' hand. “I thought you said no head or groin shots?” He wiped the blood from his head, the only evidence of the foul play.
“I did, but when you didn't, I assumed you were game for anything.” Thomas jeered, flashing his signature wicked smile. “You should be thankful I shot you in the head. I seriously considered aiming for your dick.” Thomas added pointing to that part of Dorian's body, just in case he didn't understand the slang. “Now that we're done mutilating each other for fun, what do you say we show our gratitude to th
e owner?” He winked. Rising from the kneeling position beside Dorian, he extended his hand to help him off the ground.
Dorian frowned. “I don't understand you. If you were planning on killing the owner, why didn’t you do that first, and why even bother paying him?” He accepted Thomas' hand, although the gesture was unnecessary.
Thomas sighed, as if the answer was obvious. “I paid the owner so that we would not be interrupted. I postponed killing him because a bloody mess in the lobby would attract the wrong kind of attention. So, now we get to feed AND I get my money back. It's a win-win,” he explained while helping him to his feet.
Dorian walked over to where his clothes lay, intending to redress, when Thomas grabbed his shoulder. “Don't get dressed yet. Do you know how hard it is to remove blood stains?”
Dorian shook his head.
“Well, neither did I, until some of my staff came to me complaining. I went through several maids before I started to take them seriously.” Thomas barred his fangs.
Dorian stared at him, brow furrowed. “Why should I be concerned with a bloodstain now? I get why we undressed to shoot each other,” shaking his head, still not believing he had just partaken in such a ridiculous activity, “no need to ruin nice clothes with bullet holes and blood, but I am sure that I can feed without the need to remain undressed. I did somehow manage to do the same the last time. I realize that I am new to this more refined lifestyle, but I am not a slob!” Dorian finished by yelling his frustration over Thomas' tactlessness.
“Dorian, Dorian, Dorian,” Thomas repeated, laughing, “You misunderstand. I did not intend to insult you, nor do I deem you a slob. However, you do lack a sense of adventure. Of course, it's not necessary for either one of us to be concerned about bloodying our clothes under normal circumstances.” Thomas added at the last moment, his signature grin returning, “But normal can be so boring. Today, I intend on making a mess.” With that, he turned from Dorian and waltzed into the lobby.
Sauntering up to the counter, his clothes tucked under his left arm, Thomas banged on the service bell. Soon, a short, balding, middle-aged man answered the call, emerging from a back office.