by S. Coop
BloodCon
By S. Coop
Kinfolk Books
Roanoke, VA
Copyright © 2016 by S. Coop
Cover art courtesy of zaji ankh
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination and experiences or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
“It’s for your own good,” Morgan said gently. She wasn’t taking any chances.
“Oh, so now you’re worrying about my wellbeing,” Lasandro spat. “Really? Maybe you should have thought of that before you made me a damn vampire!”
“Believe me, it is,” Morgan responded dryly. “You have been here for three days. You may not remember, but you have been going through a transformation of sorts. I had to put you in silver handcuffs, because you were going crazy with thirst. You may not like it, but as I told you before, you are a vampire now. This is a critical time for you.”
“So me trying to eat a cat wasn’t a hallucination?” he asked as blurry flashes of the last few days skipped across his consciousness.
“No, it wasn’t. You did try to eat my cat, which earned you the last blow to your head.”
Acknowledgements
Mom & Dad, wish you were here to read this story. Miss you with all my heart. One day I will see you again.
My children, you guys rock! I love you! You were the drive to finish my story. You keep me going. I love you guys with all my heart and I want to show you that you can be anything you want to be as long as you have passion and determination. To my oldest son, you told me something a long time ago that stuck with me. It was simple but very impactful. You are wise beyond your years, kiddo, and you’re going great places!
My brother, Patrick Hailey, thank you for being there for me when I needed you the most. I love you.
John, you know how I feel about you. I couldn’t have done this without you. You inspire me to become a better writer.
Michael, thank you for all you do. You are a talented writer and photographer.
Other shout outs, zaji ankh for the book cover, J. J. Murray for his excellent editing, all my friends, and my fans. Love you guys!
Chapter One
The Meet
“Here you are sir, Club Red Rain.” The cab driver threw the gear in park and looked at Lasandro, “That’ll be fifteen dollars.”
Lasandro tossed a twenty at him and stepped out onto damp concrete. He smoothed out his sleek, gunmetal Armani suit and peered up at an old brick building. The aged flickering neon sign reminded him of a Prohibition-era speakeasy.
“Say, don’t go gettin’ into any trouble now,” warned the cab driver as he sped away leaving a poof of smoke behind.
Lasandro was told Ridge Port was the place to be, filled with plenty of single, rich women. He was not there by choice; he had to flee there to avoid being arrested in Sun Valley. The job in Sun Valley seemed like a good idea at the time but proved to be a bust that almost cost him his freedom.
“I am a con artist extraordinaire,” he would secretly say to himself. Although his success rate was roughly fifty percent, that never stopped him. His real name was Vincent Lasandro. Some people called him Vinny, but he usually went by Lasandro. At six-three he had coal black hair paired with crystal blue eyes. One stare from him could bring a woman to her knees.
Conning lonely, older woman out of their life savings was his full-time job. His usual prey were women who were at the point in their life where they craved anyone’s attention and would do anything to keep it.
On his last con, everything had gone as planned—at first. That’s until the widow’s nosy daughter went snooping around and found out a little too much about him and told her mother. He had to disappear the first chance he could.
So here he was, heading to the exclusive Club Red Rain. He was told it was the hottest club in Ridge Port, frequented by only the finest, richest woman. This is definitely the place I need to be.
Getting into “exclusive” places was of no difficulty to Lasandro. He conned the bouncer into letting him in and entered the dimly lit space. It was a quaint place, a bit too dark for his taste, but looking at the modern décor, he could see what all the fuss was about. The red and black theme played off of the whole “Red Rain” name. He was glad it wasn’t a kitschy joint. Lasandro hated kitschy. “Tacky” was how he referred to places like that.
Lasandro took a quick look around. The place was dead as a doornail. So much for my source. Lasandro chastised himself for listening to that suspicious man. I should have paid more attention to the shopping cart he was pushing and the tin hat on his head. I’m here now. May as well make the best of it.
He sat in one of the red leather booths nearest the dance floor. The music wasn’t exactly his taste and some of it he could tell was before his time. He contemplated having a little talk with the owner about the choice of music when Evanescence’s “Bring Me to Life” filled the room. Now this is more like it.
“Can I get you anything?” A pretty little redhead popped up holding a tray.
“Umm, yeah,” Lasandro replied. He quickly browsed the drink menu and decided to wing it. “Bloody Caesar.”
“Coming right up.” Lasandro ogled her while she walked away, watching her behind bounce in her teeny, high-waisted shorts.
The flickering disco ball over the middle of the dance floor grabbed his attention—and his target. It was as if she had appeared out of nowhere. She was one of the sexiest women he had ever laid eyes on. She moved with such grace; it looked as if she was floating while she danced. She was there alone, swaying to the music. Glitter from her little black dress sparkled like a show of dancing lights. Why would such a beautiful thing be here alone? Maybe that guy wasn’t crazy after all. The hunt was on. He smoothed back his hair and nervously approached her. It wasn’t often that he felt nervous approaching anyone. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m never off my game.
She eyed him coming her way and motioned for him to join her. Not in the mood to talk, huh? I can handle that. Her eyes were mesmerizing. Never in his life had he seen eyes like hers. He was no poet, but the words “radiant clouds of mystery” popped into his head.
The music vibrated the dance floor, and she moved with it vigorously, never tiring, never faltering. As they danced, Lasandro knew they had an instant physical attraction for each other. Accurately reading body language was a required skill in his line of work, so he knew she was all but putty in his hands. After dancing to a few more tunes, he motioned for them to have a seat together. She followed him back to his booth where a watered down Bloody Caesar awaited him.
He got a better look at her and noticed she was much younger than his usual targets. Her beauty was incomparable to any of his past conquests. The lights from the dance floor played against her coal black hair giving it a sheen that one only sees in shampoo commercials. Normally he avoided younger women because they were much harder to woo. but for her, he had to make an exception.
“What’s your name?” he asked loudly, competing with the roaring music.
“Morgan,” she replied.
“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing alone on a night like this?” Lasandro used his usual charm.
“Looking for a man like you.”
He was amused because she was very forward. Lasandro sized her up. It’s not like she’s some ugly broad. It can’t be this easy, can it? Judging by the way she’s dressed and the expensive couture jewelry she’s wearing, she is loaded. Nothing like my usual, but she’s definitely loaded. She is so loaded she smells like money.
“Wanna get out of here?
” she asked.
“Sure,” he replied.
That didn’t take much, he thought. He chalked it up to years of experience.
“Your place?” she asked.
“Well, you see, I just moved here so …”
“Your place will do,” she insisted.
“Well, okay, as long as you don’t mind the lack of everything.”
Morgan nodded toward the exit and he willingly obliged. How could he not? Normally, he would have insisted on going to her place, but it was something about her. If anything, he figured he would at least have a one-night stand with her. He put his hand on her waist and led her outside where he hailed a cab.
They arrived at his place in no time. The yard was unkempt with dead grass entangled with tall weeds. He even saw a possum fearfully scurry into the back yard. I hope she didn’t see that. He was embarrassed about the place, but it was all he could afford for the moment. But if anything went as planned, he knew he would once again be sitting in the lap of her luxury.
They entered the house, and Lasandro flipped the light switch. The house was no bigger than eight hundred square feet. He watched her study the place. He was sure she was not impressed by any stretch of the imagination.
She stared at him and walked to the middle of the room.
“It’s not much, but it’s a roof over my head … at least until my house is finished being built. This is just temporary. I’m actually really loaded.”
“It’s okay,” she assured him.
“Can I get you a drink or something? I have a bottle of vintage wine just dying to be popped open.” The wine was from a box, but there was no need for her to go into the kitchen to see that.
“I can think of better things we could do.” She gave him the look.
He knew that look. That was the look of a woman who knew what she wanted, and at that moment, she wanted him.
That was his cue to make his move, and he didn’t waste any time. Walking up behind, he gently slid his hands around her waist. She felt unusually cold, but that didn’t deter him. He brushed some of her hair to the side and placed steady, soft kisses on her neck.
“You smell intoxicating.” He greedily took in her scent. He had been with his fair share of woman, but with her, he could barely keep his composure.
“As do you,” she replied while he continued his steady stream of steamy kisses, slowly working his way to the nape of her neck. Tilting her head forward, she began to moan.
He felt as if he was in a trance. The intense, euphoric feeling was unexpected and amazing.
He started to unzip the back of her dress when suddenly her moans ceased. She stared forward, in a daze. Lasandro figured that she, too, was enjoying the euphoric trance of the moment. He knew he had that effect on women. Just a gift I was born with, he boasted in his mind.
“Are you okay?” he asked, feigning concern.
She kept looking straight ahead. “Everything’s perfect.”
He was elated to hear those words roll off her lips, but just as he was basking in the glory of thinking he was going to get majorly laid, she turned around and leapt on him with an animalistic look in her eyes. She didn’t look sexy or graceful anymore. She looked like a wild animal; her veins seemed to be pop out of her skin.
That’s when it happened. She sank her teeth into his neck. The sheer force of the bite was almost enough to snap his neck in two. At that moment, he could only think of all the women he had wronged, and now it had come back to bite him—literally.
She sucked at his neck for what seemed like hours and with every drink she took from him, he became weaker and weaker and woozier. Slowly she lowered him to the floor, and slowly, he lost consciousness.
“Lasandro? Lasandro, I know you’re in there!”
Lasandro’s eyes snapped open to the incessant beating on his front door. Still lying on the floor in a daze, he adjusted his eyes through blurred vision. What the hell happened to me? He tried to figure out why he was out cold on the floor and felt as if he was dead. He felt for a pulse to make sure he was still alive, then he patted himself down to make sure everything was in working order. He made his way down to his crotch and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Lasandro open this damn door!”
He recognized the voice on the other side of the door and considered that maybe he was dead, likely in hell. It was his ex-girlfriend, Dana. She was the last person he wanted to see. He reluctantly staggered to the door, still considering not opening it at all.
Woozy and rubbing his neck, Lasandro opened the door half expecting to see the house teetering on a fire pit of flames—but it was worse.
“What the hell, Dro? I’ve been knocking on your door for an eternity. What’s going on? Who’s in there?” Dana shoved her way through the door. “Why did you leave SV and not let me know!”
He looked at her and mentally begged for death. He had left Sun Valley to avoid the police and her, but lo and behold, here she was. He swore she planted a GPS up his ass when they were dating.
“How did you find me?” he asked dryly.
“Don’t worry about how I found you, damn! The point is you left and didn’t tell me. Why is it I had to find out about it from that scum Matthew?”
I don’t have time for this. Lasandro felt like crap and he was pretty sure he looked like it. An unwelcome visit from Dana was the last thing he needed.
Dana was his first real, serious relationship, and to say it was hell would be an understatement. She was gorgeous, with bleach blond hair and olive skin; and she would swear up and down that she looked better than Beyoncé. Her looks attracted him to her, but her attitude ran him away.
“Why is it so damn dark in here? What are you, a bat or something?” She snorted at her own bad joke while she made her way to the couch.
Lasandro stared at her as she switched on a lamp and sat. God I hate her, he thought. “As you can see, no one is here but me. So, you can go now, thanks for stopping by.”
“Look, we need to talk.” She grabbed a pack of smokes from her purse and glared at him, “You look weird, Dro. What happened to you? You went to some club, didn’t you?”
“Yes I did, and no, nothing happened. What does it matter to you anyway? We’re not even together anymore. Dana, I’m really tired and I need some sleep. Just tell me what’s so important that it couldn’t wait forever.”
“Very funny, Dro,” she replied sarcastically. “I’m here to let you know that I’m not the only one who knows you’re here. Derrick knows you’re here, too.”
“Derrick? That asshole is the reason I’m here!”
Dana smugly lit up a cigarette, “Well, he knows you’re here and he says you owe him.”
“I owe him? It was his fault the job went bad!” Lasandro paced back and forth.
Dana took a long drag from her cigarette. “Look, we need to get out of here …”
He shook his head. “Dana, there is no ‘we.’ You go back and say you haven’t seen me and that’s it. I don’t need this right now.”
“What do you mean, there is no ‘we’? We need to work this out.” She ran her fingers through his hair, something she loved to do while they were together. “You’re in trouble, Dro. You can’t do this alone …”
He looked at her running her mouth relentlessly, as she usually did. He felt increasingly woozy. Her frame became further and further away, and her chatter became a whisper.
He hit the floor.
“Oh my God, Dro, are you okay? I’m calling nine-one-one.” Dana panicked, pulled out her cellphone, and started tapping the screen.
Lasandro regained his composure just in time to hear the last few words she said. “Are you kidding me, Dana? You’re gonna call the police while I’m a wanted man? Are you that dumb?”
“I’m just so worried,” she said with a startled look on her face.
“I’m fine, Dana. Just a hangover or something.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I have to think.” He ha
d enough of her. “Just get out before I throw you out! Get out!”
“You’re going to throw me out after all I’ve done for you?” she yelled.
“Done for me? You mean done to me! Take your tired ass home! I don’t love you anymore. Hell, I don’t even like you!” He couldn’t take the constant nagging anymore. That was another one of her many “endearing” qualities. He was mad, madder than usual. In fact, he had never been so mad before in all his life.
“I hate you, Dro, I hate you!” she yelled while swinging open the door. She had seen Lasandro mad before, but he had never been this mad and it terrified her. His demeanor had completely changed; he was nothing like the Lasandro she knew.
“Good riddance to old trash!” Lasandro exclaimed while slamming the door behind her. He went to his bed to lie down. He tried piecing together the night’s events. Some of it was coming back slowly, but he still drew a blank on most of it. He did remember going to a club and meeting a woman, an extraordinary woman.
He hadn’t drunk a drop of alcohol, yet he couldn’t completely remember everything. That wasn’t like him. He tossed around in his bed for a while; still trying to find a comfortable position until he finally gave up. He was burning up and sore. He angrily tossed his blanket on the floor and headed back to the living room.
He plopped on the cool hardwood floor and sat cross-legged. All he could clearly recount was the not so welcome visit from Dana, and he felt sick, angry and confused all at the same time. On top of that, he was a wanted man whose whereabouts were now very known. “Story of my life,” he mumbled as he drifted off to sleep on the floor.
A couple hours later, he woke up covered in sweat. He didn’t remember falling asleep. Sleeping on the floor did nothing for his soreness. His muscles also felt odd, as if they were contracting. He figured he caught some bug, probably from Dana. He headed to bed to try to sleep it off.