“Give it a minute. Sometimes it takes a while.” Flattening his palm, I pressed it harder to my breastbone.
“I’ve had nights like that,” he deadpanned.
Beneath the fortress of my rib cage came a faint, barely detectable thump. “It’s sluggish, and way too irregular to keep a normal human alive, but it’s there.”
Carter blinked up at me as if seeing me for the first time. His chest swelled with excitement—as did other parts south of the border I happened to be sitting on. “We could really do this. You could get us in. And, I know just what to do to have them seek you out, with the keys to kingdom in hand ...”
Chapter Four
Experiment Day 2: Cause
Heuristic Technique - Any approach to problem solving, learning, or discovery that employs a practical method not guaranteed to be optimal.
Vlad the Impaler.
Prince of House Draculesti.
Son of the Dragon.
First of the vampire bloodline.
Under his teachings and affliction blood meant not only life, but power.
This lesson was lost to me as archaic folklore, until I awoke with fire in my veins and my body revolting against me.
Lungs constricted in a vise grip of pain, my back arched off the table I was bound to, an anguished roar tearing its way from my throat.
“Vincenza, can you hear me?” a female voice bellowed all around me.
My head whipped in one direction, then another in search of my captor. I found her by the door—her skin the hue of melted caramel; her hair a wild mane of thick rope braids.
Eyes spastically twitching over her, I missed no detail or subtle nuance. She had a small, pink chicken pox scar above her lip. Her pores permeated with the enticing aroma of fear. A bead of perspiration dotted her temple, slowly streaking toward her jawline.
My gaze traveled down of its own accord, drawn to the steady pulse of her blood pumping through her veins. I could see it through her flesh, its strobe a magnetic invitation.
Fresh pain stabbed into my top teeth, red-hot pokers drilling to the bone. Mouth agape, I screamed at the ceiling as canine incisors gored their way through my gums, bursting forth in a frothy spray of saliva and blood.
“What have you done to me?” I shrieked, fighting against my restraints. “You should have left me there to die!”
“Miss Larow, do you know where you are?” the woman asked. Her professional façade was off-set by a thin gold hoop decorating the edge of her nostril. “We are in a lab at Yale University. I imagine you visited your mother here before?”
Chest rising and falling in frantic pants, my eyes rolled to take in all around me. She was right. It wasn’t a hospital, but one of the labs my mother frequented. The domed observatory: whitewashed cement walls and cold, stainless fixtures and tables.
Perplexing as that information was, a spider in the corner diverted my attention. I could hear it chomping on a fly with the deafening ruckus of screws and bolts thrown into a blender.
I could draw only one conclusion from the evidence provided.
Monsters slaughtered my family with wild abandon, and now … I was one of them.
Tears streamed down my cheeks in torrents, blurring my vision with a crimson haze.
“Please, just kill me,” I beseeched the stranger.
Swallowing hard, she approached me with measured steps. “Your body is undergoing changes, but this isn’t the transformation you think it is. My name is Micah Walker, and I would very much like to explain to you what’s happening … if you’ll let me.”
As I ground my teeth together, freshly sprouted fangs stabbed into my lower lip with a gush of coppery warmth.
“I know what is happening.” I yanked one wrist up with all my might, breaking free from the metal cuff pinning my arm to the table. Rising on my elbow, I made short work of the remaining shackle. “And I will not become one of them. Either kill me or show me the sun. Either way, this ends now. I will not become a monster!”
Rounding my back, I bounded off the table and landed in a low, menacing crouch.
Despite her brave front, Micah stumbled back. One hand raised to halt my advance. “Okay, easy now. You see that yellow button by the door?”
Barely a twitch of my head, and I zeroed in on it.
“That opens up the dome ceiling. It’s two thirty-three in the afternoon. If I hit that button, this whole room will be flooded with sunlight. If that’s what you want, I’ll do it. But only if you promise to listen to what I have to say afterwards.”
“Afterwards I’ll be a pile of ash,” I snarled.
“Then I guess you have nothing to lose.” Micah inched back a step, then another.
As her hand reached for the yellow button of impending doom, I squeezed my eyes shut. Silently, I prayed to be reunited with my family in a place of peace, far from the terrors of this world.
Overhead a motor whirred in flurry of clicks and grinding gears. The ceiling retracted, sliding down the sidewalls to open in a cavernous maw. Sunlight warmed my skin in what I thought would be the kiss of death. Shielding myself behind my arm, I braced for the pain … that never came.
Prying open one eye, I risked a peek. I turned my hand over in front of me, marveling at the sunlight radiated off my skin without harm. Every scar, freckle, and blemish was gone. What remained was porcelain vampirical perfection.
On my feet in a blink, I stared her down. “What have you done to me? What am I?”
Folding her hands in front of her, Micah tilted her head. “Up for listening now?”
Instinct curled my top lip from my teeth in a menacing threat. “Talk!”
Jerking at my demonic rasp, she hid her trembling hands in the pockets of her lab coat. “You didn’t drink vampire blood. The hive that attacked your family left you for dead. When police arrived on the scene, a couple of the officers supportive of our cause contacted the lab. Your mother is behind what’s happening to you now, Vincenza. You were injected with a serum she created. Without it, you would be dead.”
The incessant drumming of her heart assaulted my senses. Hooking my hands behind my head, I shielded my ears with my forearms and folded to the ground. Blood-tinged tears dripped from my chin, painting the tile floor.
“Her miraculous development has dramatically decreased your organ functions. Your heart will only beat once or twice an hour, if that. Not enough to be detected by the most astute Nosferatu. You require less than ten percent of the oxygenation needed to sustain human life. To the outside world, you’re a vampire freed from their aversions to sunlight and silver.”
“Shut up!” I screamed, her every syllable stabbing into my brain. “Why? Why would you do this? I was dead! A rotting corpse on my way to oblivion! Why did you drag me back?”
Her footsteps clapped against the ground with a thunderous echo, each step jarring me to the bone. Stopping close enough for me to smell the nauseating stench of black coffee she drank to wash down red-pepper humus, Micah crouched beside me. Her voice dropped to a whisper that still resonated through my skull like a shout in a temple. “Your parents were part of an underground collation. They designed this serum to allow a chosen specimen to infiltrate vampire society and expose the truth behind their political propaganda.”
I lunged without thinking. Seizing Micah by the throat, I lifted her from the ground with one hand. With an enraged scream ripping from my dying lungs, I slammed her against the wall hard enough to rattle her teeth.
“Why me?” I demanded, my face mere inches from hers.
“Your name was never mentioned as a potential candidate,” she gasped, her fingers grappling to loosen my hold. “If your parents had their way … this would have never come near you. But when they wheeled you into my lab …”
I could feel the bird-like delicacy of her bones. One pulse of my hand and I would cr
ush the life out of her. Somewhere deep within me, tendrils of darkness tempted me to give in to the chaos. Unable to trust myself, I dropped her to the ground in an unceremonious heap. Turning my back, I fought to regain control.
Micah panted to catch her breath, gazing upon me not with accusation, but compassionate understanding. “Kate and Robert meant the world to me. I couldn’t let them down by letting you die.”
Whirling on her, even I didn’t recognize the throaty growl that rumbled from my chest. “So, you turned me into a demon? Is that honoring their memory?”
“What you’re going through now?” Dragging her braids over one shoulder, Micah tipped her head to the side and pulled her lab coat away from her neck.
Instantly, I recoiled. The heat of her blood called to my chilled flesh with every palpitation.
“It was supposed to be me,” Micah finished, seemingly oblivious to my pained reaction.
She held the pose, waiting for me to get over my own bullshit enough to notice the scars covering her neck. Ten sets of puncture wounds clustered near her jugular in a pattern that looked like the points of a star.
I knew those markings. They had been plastered over every news segment and magazine cover not that long ago.
“The Scarlett Star.” Digging through the foggy mess of my muddled mind, I plucked her media moniker.
Jaw tightening, Micah let her braids swing back into place. “Daughter of a judge at a known vampire bar wearing red-lipstick and a low-cut top. The media said I was asking for it. Your mother and father took my side even when my own family shunned me for the scandal I caused and how it sullied my father’s political aspirations. Your parents were good people. I owed it to them to save your life in whatever way I could.”
A fresh wave of anguish slammed into me, driving me down on one hip. I could feel my bones hardening, the last of my pliable humanity morphing into unyielding stone.
“This … was meant for you?” I panted, no actual breath leaving my stationary lungs.
“It was,” she confirmed with a dip of her chin. Adjusting her position, she pulled a penlight from her pocket and shined it into my eyes. “But when I saw what they had done to all of you, I knew this calling wasn’t meant for me. This pain you’re feeling, Vincenza? It’s temporary. The scars the vampires marred on your soul will last forever.”
The light of her pen in the bright room expanded my pupils farther, allowing me to see every vein feeding her body and where her blood surged the strongest.
Shrieking at the torturous longing I couldn’t comprehend, I curled into a ball and shielded myself behind my arms.
Micah hung back, granting me the mercy of space. “I was ready for this change. I prepared myself. Even so, I couldn’t let you die. Now, you are the weapon of the rising revolution. I can use my knowledge and training to help you harness this, Vincenza. But first, you have to stop screaming.”
Chapter Five
Experiment Day 376: Effect
Falsification of a Statement – the inherent possibility that the statement can be proven wrong.
Scream for me, baby,” the muscle-bound Viking growled. Catching his buxom human plaything by the waist, he wove his hand into her hair. Forcing her head back, he bared fang.
“Oh no!” she gasped as his razor-sharp teeth pierced her supple flesh with a deep thrust. Her weak protest quickly morphed to moans of pleasure, her long legs locking around his hips to pin him to her. “Oh … oh, yes!”
Clicking the pause button on the remote control, I spoke directly into the camera. “This is the exact kind of soft-porn villainization I’m talking about. Humans are responsible for creating these stereotypes of us and feeding that hype for their own entertainment purposes. Who, then, is the real victim in this hurtful misrepresentation?”
“You can’t be serious!” the pasty-faced, NPI opposer bellowed, his scalp reddening under his horrible comb-over. “This quote-on-quote example you brought is a television show on a cable network. It’s fluff in the face of serious issues! What we are talking about here is a complete integration of vampires into mainstream society without the benefit of registration of any kind. That’s the equivalent of abolishing the sexual predators list and allowing deviants to work in schools, wear a badge, or even administer medications. It’s not safe, and the human race needs to stand together for our own protection.”
Elbows on the desk provided for our televised debate, I crossed my arms and tilted my head in the direction of the sweaty little man. “Comparing us to aberrant criminals? How do you justify making such a bold leap?”
“With centuries of murders, torture, and feedings!” he exploded, hopping in his seat as if suppressing the urge to leap onto the tabletop and douse me with holy water. “All of these vile acts have been committed under the teachings of your demonic demi-god, Vlad Draculesti. Your immortal Lord Impaler.”
One corner of my mouth tugged back in a knowing smirk. “And no one has ever killed, maimed, or committed genocide in the name of Christ?”
“It’s a sorry argument to use our history against us!”
“Yes, it is!” I vehemently agreed. “And yet that is exactly what humans subject us to. You fault us for the mistakes our kind has made in the past, mocking our deity without truly understanding his teachings. Meanwhile, you fetishize our culture and use it in your foreplay. Statistically speaking, human on human deaths outweigh vampire-on-human deaths twenty-three hundred to one. And why is that? Because humans take their passions too far, while when we pair with a human we focus on building a lasting relationship built on trust, safety, and security.”
“Humans you keep around for feeding and screwing!” my opponent hollered, spittle bubbling in the corners of his mouth. “You’re vicious killers!”
“My apologies to our viewers for that use of inappropriate language,” the prim and poised moderator stated into the camera before fixing her critical gaze on the frothing conservative. “Mayor Donaldson, I again ask you to control these outbursts or we will have no choice but to conclude our debate.”
Before his mouth could open to protest further, I leaned in and caught him with my narrowed gaze. “Show me proof. Where is the recorded documentation of these crimes you’re accusing us of? I tell you what, while you hunt to find that, I will wander into any costume shop or Halloween store and snag a set of fangs and a gothic cape that misrepresent us as night prowling fiends. The so-called facts you are basing your viewpoint on are myths formulated by your own kind to make us these legendary creatures that go bump in the night. Thank you, for granting me more power than I can fathom. That said, you should know I can’t turn into a bat, I spend as much time in front of the mirror as the next gal, and I enjoy a few extra shakes of garlic on my pasta. I’m not a monster, Mayor Donaldson. I am a vampire citizen who wants the same rights you take for granted.”
“I’m afraid we are out of time for this segment,” the moderator interjected. Pushing her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose with the tip of her index finger, she spoke directly to the camera. “When we return, we will be joined by representatives from the Environmental Protection Agency and the Center of Disease Control and Prevention to debate the benefits and risks of adding fluoride and vitamins to our public water system. We’ll be right back after a message from our sponsor, Everlasting Beauty Cosmetics—get that flawless vampire look while your heart is still beating.”
“Annnnd … we’re clear,” the camera man directed, dropping his headphones around his neck for the break.
“Even the God damn sponsor is a vamp lover!” the troll of a mayor spat, shoving his chair back from the table.
“It was a pleasure to meet you,” I called after him, my flat tone a statement to the contrary.
“Rot in hell, devil bitch.” Striding away, his comb-over bouncing in the breeze, he flipped me off over his head.
“Sorry about him,” the mode
rator said with a grimace. “You probably encounter intolerance like that all the time.”
“I don’t fit in to any crowd anymore,” I admitted with a stark truthfulness, offering her a tight-lipped smile.
“If it makes you feel any better, you were amazing against him. He came across like a bigoted prick.”
Leaning over the desk, I dropped my voice to a whisper. “I don’t think that was an act.”
Her head listed to the side and she gazed into my eyes, sinking into the dangerous waters of the titillating undead. I had watched it happen many times before. That and a public nudity display by a brazen barista were why I couldn’t go back to my favorite coffee shop.
Lips parting in a breathy sigh, a ruddy blush filled her cheeks. “I hope he didn’t tarnish your experience of being on the show. I’d love for you to … come again.”
“It would be my pleasure. Thanks again for having me.” Unclipping my mic, I set it on the desk. Experience taught me in situations like this it was best to get some needed distance and fast. Unfortunately, my polite exit was thwarted by the randy reporter catching my wrist.
Draping herself across the desk, her heaving cleavage strained against the fabric of her blouse. “The subtle approach doesn’t work with you. I like that. I’m not afraid to work for what I want. How’s this: we go back to my dressing room and I let you bite me wherever you want?”
“Camelia, we’re back in thirty,” the cameraman said, trying to pretend he wasn’t eavesdropping. The anxious sheen of sweat coating his brow and tightening of his trousers hinted otherwise.
Dropping fang, I gifted her with the full vampire thrill. Excitement shuddered through her, her nipples poking through the thin fabric of her silk button-down.
As I dragged my tongue over the tip of one jagged tooth, I let my stare wander the length of her. “You deserve more than thirty seconds of rushed ecstasy, Camelia. Enjoy the rest of your show. I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”
The Veiled Series Collection Page 4