by Heidi Lowe
"What?" I couldn't risk turning to face her, because the sight of her would weaken my resolve. Before Jean, no woman had ever made me weak at the knees, or any other parts of my body. Before her, I'd never imagined that such a thing was possible.
"Is this what we've been reduced to, avoiding each other all evening, then you sneaking out at night and not telling me where you're going?"
"I'm going for a walk. You kept bugging me to leave the house, now you're bugging me because I do. Decide what you want."
"I already know what I want. It's what I've always wanted..."
"Well, maybe I'm not the one to give it to you."
"What is that supposed to mean?" She tried to get me to face her but I shook her off. "Lissa, what does that mean?"
"You know what it means." I was certain she did, though she would probably never admit it to me.
"I don't," she insisted.
"I'll be back later," I grumbled, and hurried off before she could see my tears falling. She called after me, but I kept on going, and going, and going until I was far away from that house, from her.
I ran and ran, faster than I ever had, at a pace no human could ever achieve, not even Usain Bolt himself. I ran for fifteen minutes and didn't tire. The world blurred as I whizzed past it.
The night was quiet and the streets were wet from an earlier, fleeting downpour. A crescent moon hung in the black sky. I slowed to a stop when I came to the bridge, and realized this was the farthest I'd been on one of my night walks. No one would hear me cry here, so I let loose into the night, gripping the railing for support.
I thought about her, about how close we'd once been, and it made me cry harder. I peered over the side of the barrier, into the black, cavernous water below, and let my tears be swallowed up by it. If I jumped in now, it could swallow me up, too, then I'd never have to suffer this fate.
Taking little care, I climbed onto the railing and stood on the wall, one hand clutching the bridge tower. The water swished and crashed beneath me, calling, calling. All I had to do was let go and take one step, then I would be free.
But I didn't take that step, nor did I let go. For several minutes I stood teetering on the edge of freedom and my imprisonment.
"Jump! Jump! Jump!" came a chant from behind, laughter following shortly after.
I twisted a little to see who it originated from, and a boy stepped out of the shadows. I recognized him as soon as the bridge lights hit his face.
"What do you want?" I said, narrowing my eyes at his approaching form. I'd disliked his face the first time I'd seen it – the night of the vampire meeting – and I disliked it just as much now. To me his whole demeanor, the too cool for school attitude, and that mischievous smirk, reminded me too much of the popular football players in high school, who'd bullied me for not having parents.
"I want to see if you'll jump." His laugh was cruel, though his face, in general, was not. He had a classical, 50's movie star look about him. He reminded me a lot of the late James Dean, scarily so.
"Leave me alone."
He only cackled at this, then leaned an elbow against the railing and peered up at me. "The last time I saw you, you were a little less dead."
"And the last time I saw you, you were still an asshole!" I retorted.
"Ouch!" He took no offense. "What happened? Did the English broad, oops, sorry, I mean your "life partner" take a bit too much one night while you were doing the nasty?"
"That's not how it happened," I said miserably. "She saved me." Funny how I could admit this when defending her to others, but couldn't bring myself to admit this to her.
"You know that if you jump it won't kill you. You'll just get extremely wet."
He was right, of course. There were two things in this world that could kill me now – the sun and a platinum stake through the heart. It's amazing how bleak your outlook can be when you realize that very few things can harm you.
"Do you really want to die?" he continued.
"I don't know what I want anymore. Maybe it would be for the best."
"For who?"
"Everyone." I stared into the dark abyss below, which resembled my feelings exactly. I imagined my soul looked just like that. "She looks at me differently now, I can see it. She'll never admit that everything's changed between us now that I'm not human. I can't give her anything, not even my blood. There's nothing sexy or useful about being with another vampire."
Finally I'd been able to let out the thoughts that had been plaguing me since my change. I'd always been insecure about myself when it came to Jean, but since turning, that insecurity had increased one hundredfold. As a human, at least I could give her my body, at least she could take from me. But now I couldn't give her any of those things. She couldn't drink my blood, and I couldn't even last longer than a couple of minutes during sex.
"Vampires hook up all the time. It's actually more natural. We would exclude bleeders altogether were it not for their blood."
"I never knew how much I loved my humanity until I lost it. I took it for granted," I said, not really listening to him.
"Being human's overrated. In time you'll see that."
"No, I won't."
Before I knew it, he'd climbed onto the railing to stand beside me. If anyone had seen us, they would have thought we were lovers in a suicide pact.
"It's actually pretty cool up here."
I gawked at him like he was crazy. If the wind changed direction we would both have fallen in, no doubt. But, like he said, it would have made no difference to our health, just our clothes.
"I've been this way a lot longer than I was human, and I can tell you that the human race is a plague, nothing more than walking and talking blood banks, here only to serve us. Sooner or later you'll see it that way, too."
"That's absurd. I could never think that way." He was wrong. All life was precious. Just because I didn't belong to that group, didn't mean they were irrelevant. My sister was a part of that group. Petr, too.
"Right now you're still clinging to your humanity, trying to be good. But it goes against our nature. You can learn to ignore that weak, human side of you."
If what he was saying was true, then Jean was wrong. She'd assured me that I didn't have to be a monster, that it was a choice. But what if it wasn't? What if being good only went contrary to who I'd become?
"How do I do that?" I said.
"I'll show you." He jumped back down from the ledge, and held out his hand for mine. I regarded it suspiciously at first, just as I did his smile, but gave him my hand anyway. He helped me down. I reclaimed my hand so as not to give him any ideas.
"Where are we going?" I asked, as we climbed into his convertible, which was parked recklessly at the bridge's entrance.
"To have some fun."
I didn't know what he had in mind, but the roguish grin he shot me didn't fill me with confidence.
NINE
The car came skidding to a stop outside a warehouse, which sat at the end of a long road, beside which lay an open field. An unidentifiable animal ran for dear life when it saw us approaching, and disappeared into the tall, dark grass. That was precisely how I'd felt the minute I climbed into Oliver's car and he took off at full speed. The guy ran every red light, and drove like he was in a Fast and Furious movie. I was so convinced we were going to crash, that I found myself closing my eyes and waiting for it all to be over. But we made it in one piece, though my heart felt like it was about to pound out of my chest!
The thump-thumping of loud music, coming from the warehouse, made the ground around us shake. I felt the echo of the bass in my bones.
"You coming?" he asked, once he jumped out and saw me still clinging to my seat.
"What is this place?" I asked, giving the building a dubious look. Were it not for the music blaring, the place would have looked deserted, a serial killer's paradise.
He straightened out his denim jacket, rolled back the sleeves at the elbows, and reached into the glove compartment for his
shades. "No Man's Land," he said, putting them on. He ran a hand across the edges of his dark hair, though not a strand was out of place.
"Okay...but what is that?"
"Do you trust me?" he asked, that malevolent grin returning to his lips.
"Uh, no! I don't even know why I agreed to come with you." It was ridiculous, the idea that I'd gotten into his car, willingly, and accompanied him anywhere. What the hell was I thinking?
He chuckled to himself. "Look, you're depressed, and you need cheering up. This place always does that for me. Now, are you coming or not?" He'd already started off towards the entrance.
I climbed out and hurried after him. "Any funny business, and I'm calling an Uber out of here."
"This place is nothing but funny business," he said. I didn't like the sound of that.
The heat hit us the moment we stepped inside. The first door opened into a badly lit foyer, guarded by no one. The second door we went through led to a staircase. We passed a couple of people going up as we descended. A man and a woman, young, with the type of affected goth look of bored teenagers trying to be edgy.
Behind the third and final door, the mystery of No Man's Land was revealed. Grunge music blasted from ubiquitous speakers fastened to the walls. Soft scarlet light illuminated the huge space. People of all descriptions populated the room, lounging on comfy-looking sofas or hanging by the bar. In the middle of the room was a fountain, around which people sat and drank and chatted. The decor was red, I noticed. Red velvet drapes were pinned to the walls, separating different parts of the room – likely for privacy. On the surface it looked like a nice place to relax and socialize.
Too bad my eyesight was perfect, because on closer inspection, I saw the truth behind the facade. What I'd thought were polite conversations taking place was actually an orgy of biting and feeding. Provocatively dressed women and men were gathered around vampires, taking turns to be bitten, and laughing drunkenly while everyone made out with each other, waiting for their turn. Even at the bar, hands were placed on thighs, mouths were spending longer than necessary on necks. Everywhere I turned, someone was getting bitten or fondled.
I found myself hanging close to Oliver as we made our way through the room. Intoxicated human men and women watched me with lustful eyes, as though they would devour me and not the other way round. All manner of the debauched was taking place before my eyes.
"Why the hell did you bring me here?" I said through gritted teeth.
He put an arm around my neck, his grin wide and more heinous beneath the red lighting. "What, you don't like it?"
"No, I don't," I snapped, shoving his arm away. "What is this, a sex club? Did you seriously just bring me to a sex club?"
"This place is whatever you want it to be. One person's sex club is another person's hangout spot."
"I'm leaving." I turned to leave, but he grabbed me by the shoulders from behind.
"Stay awhile. Give the place a chance. Where else do you have to be? You said it yourself, your "life partner" has lost interest. Here, no one loses interest in us. Look around, they're all here for our benefit. Why limit yourself to just one woman?"
I noticed the mocking tone he used every time he said "life partner". It angered me, his reducing what Jean and I had to nothing. But, well, it was nothing now. We weren't the same people we were when she'd said it; I certainly wasn't. Did it even apply now?
"These people, are they here just for people like us to feed off them?" I questioned, the disgust heavy in my voice and expression.
"Sure. They're all fanger-lovers, blood whores, whatever you want to call them. This town attracts them. There's practically an endless supply."
"How could you talk about them like they're nothing? They're people," I said, outraged.
"Exactly, nothing." Over his sunglasses, he gave me an appraising look, then added, "They'll love you, Lissa. You have that innocent, newly-turned look about you. That guy's already taken a liking."
He pointed to a man sitting at the bar. He wasn't bad-looking, but he was a man! I rolled my eyes and turned away quickly.
"I'm gay. And no, that doesn't mean sexually fluid, either. I only deal with women. Period." I thought it was important to get that out there early on, so there would be no confusion later. I was gold star all the way, and that would never change, no matter how hungry I got.
"What a waste!" he said, shaking his head. "Lucky for you, though, most of the women aren't as picky."
I didn't know if that was lucky.
Oliver snatched a glass of blood from a passing waitress with a tray. She winked at me and gave me a little smile. Human, as far as I could tell. And seemingly elated to be in a place like this. In fact, as I studied the room, that was my overall deduction: everyone here seemed happy.
I wondered whether Petr had been to a bar like this back in Lox Ridge, or if such a place existed there. They hadn't celebrated or glorified their vampires like they did here. Underground bars like this were probably so deep underground no one knew about them.
"Here, drink up," he said, after he'd taken a sip from the glass. "It's just a precaution."
"Against what?" I didn't take it from him immediately.
"In case you get a little too carried away," he said with a wicked laugh. "We have to leave them with some blood in their veins."
My horrified expression only made him laugh harder.
"I'm not drinking from anyone! I don't know these people."
"Would you rather take from people you know?"
If I was being honest, since that whole fubar with Sandra when I'd gone for her jugular, I'd made a pact with myself never to drink directly from anyone. It was so unvampire-like, but if Jean could do it, so could I.
"I don't drink that way," I said, took the glass from him, and downed the contents in one go. Refreshing and moreish were words I never would have associated with blood a month ago, but they fit so well now.
He slapped a hand to his forehead. "Has the English bitch got you drinking from bags exclusively? See, I could see she was no fun. You had a lucky escape."
"Shut up," I grumbled, and set the empty glass down at the bar. The barmaid, another human, and one who wore way too much mascara, and had one of those studded dog collars around her neck, smiled at me. What was with all the smiling? Why was I so popular all of a sudden, when I never had been before?
"Refill?" she asked. Her lipstick was as black as her hair and nail polish. I couldn't tell whether or not she was attractive due to all the makeup.
"No, thanks," I said, and turned back to Oliver. "Can we leave?"
He wasn't listening, however. He grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me to an empty couch.
"I said I want to leave, not sit down," I said, but sat down anyway.
"Talk to some people, let your hair down. Make some new friends." He eased back in his seat, resting both arms across the top of the couch, one leg half-crossed over the other.
"So this is your plan? Sit here and what?"
"Wait," he said simply.
"Wait for what?"
No sooner had the words left my mouth than a couple of girls approached. Tight vest tops, almost non-existent skirts, and that bottle-blonde, Valley girl look. They weren't my type, not just because I'd never found that whole airhead look cute or sexy, but because they looked about eighteen, twenty at most.
"Hi," they said in unison.
Oliver, who still had his shades on, gave them an effortless wave, playing up the cool thing way too much that it looked forced.
"Are you new here?" one of them asked me. "I haven't seen you around."
"First time," I said rather stoically. I wasn't in the mood to make smalltalk with teenagers.
"She's a No Man's Land virgin," Oliver volunteered. "Looking for someone to pop her cherry."
"You're so disgusting," I said, cutting him a foul look. The girls giggled.
"Come, sit with us," Oliver said, ushering them closer. He scooted over to make room for them between
us.
Noticing that my leg and the girl's were touching, I inched away as best I could, though there wasn't much couch left for it. I felt so awkward, like I was on a first date, or a double date with a bunch of people I had no interest in.
And things only got worse from there when Oliver and his girl started making out.
"Are you into women?" the girl beside me said, probably feeling just as awkward now that her friend was getting her face eaten off.
"That's a personal question," I said, a little taken aback.
"Sorry. I wasn't sure, and there's never an easy way to ask someone." She let out a nervous laugh.
"True," I said, relaxing a bit. I'd never really had a problem identifying fellow lady-lovers myself, due to my top of the range gaydar. "How old are you?"
"Twenty-one."
I didn't believe a word. "Really? You look younger."
"I get that a lot. But then you probably do too. How old are you? Fifty or something?"
I resented the suggestion. I'd made a similarly absurd guess at Jean's age, too, and she'd gotten offended. I never thought I would be one of those women who got sensitive about their age.
"I'm twenty-four," I said miserably.
"No way! Wow, you're probably the youngest vamp in here."
Was that what all the cool kids were saying now, vamp? Trying to make the dangerous sound edgy and chic, when they should have been running for the hills to get away from us.
"Do you want to feed?" she asked. There was that word again, that horrible, inhuman word that made my skin crawl. If ever I was fortunate enough to temporarily forget that I was no longer human, that word would remind me.
"No," I said.
"I'm pretty tipsy. I know you guys like that."
I shot her a bemused look, brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"
"It doesn't surprise me that your "life partner" didn't tell you about alcohol in the blood," Oliver said between kisses to his new friend's neck. He'd already worked one shoulder of her vest top down. "She probably doesn't want you getting high and drunk. It's like I've always said about the Brits, they don't know how to have fun."