The Vampiric Housewife

by Kristen Marquette

  “Hey Charlie,” Rhett Miller called out from his office as Charlie walked by. He was pale beneath his dark skin, his nose broad and his lips thick. He was an undeniably handsome man. He was like Charlie—a man with a family. He had only one child though, a son around Harry’s age. He and his family were special too. It was for that reason that he had been promoted to Dr. Venjamin’s secret, underground research. Only men with families worked closely with the doctor. “I was thinking about a hunting trip next weekend. Dr. Venjamin’s already okayed it. Are you okay, man? You look like you need this trip. A good, fresh kill, that’s what you need.”

  Charlie cleared his throat. “Sounds good.” A hunting trip. Get of Sangre Valley, away from the house and the hospital. Taste freedom again. After every trip, it became harder and harder to come back home, to give up the freedom. At one time he looked forward to his trips, now he dreaded them fearing that one of these days, he might not be able to drag himself back into his cage in Sangre Valley.

  In his cramped, windowless office Charlie traded his jacket for a white lab coat. On his desk sat a black and white picture of Valerie at age seventeen when Dr. Venjamin first introduced him to her. She looked almost identical to the woman she was now, just a little less sure of herself, a little shy maybe. God, how he loved her.

  Next to Valerie’s black and white photo, sat one of his wife with their three wonderful children, all smiling up at him. John, just a year younger than he was now, in his red and white letterman jacket. He swore the boy slept in it. But Charlie loved that letterman jacket just as much as his son. He had never been a jock. To the contrary, he had always hated and envied boys like John, the ones that had it so easy . . . the sports, the grades, the popularity, the girls. John was everything Charlie had always wanted to be. He was everything Charlie was not. And that was a good thing.

  Then there was his darling Amelia, the apple of his eye. Beautiful. Smart as a whip. But more like he had been. A loner. Sensitive. But she didn’t cling to hate the way he had. She wasn’t consumed with anger either. She was lost but . . . not confused. She knew too much. That was her problem. At fifteen, he could already see that she would grow out of her awkwardness, and her confidence would ripen into the poise that her mother possessed. Yet, it was her future that worried him the most. What kind of life could a smart girl like her live in a town like Sangre Valley?

  Secretly, Charlie may have loved Harry the most. Harry was his son through and through even if physically his son barely resembled him. Mischievous with street smarts, though how he gained that type of knowledge in pristine little Sangre Valley, Charlie didn’t know. But the boy knew how to take care of himself. Just like his old man. But what really got him, what really made him love Harry was his bloodlust. Finally someone else who was sick of cold blood out of plastic pouches and animal meat. Someone who couldn’t just leave or take blood, but someone who craved it, dreamed about it, would kill for it. It made Valerie worry that he wasn’t a normal little boy. But it made Charlie feel like he, himself, was normal.

  But he shouldn’t have been thinking about his family. He had a stack of research sitting on his desk, photos, stats, medical reports, observations. It was the Romanian Project, the project that Charlie was responsible for. He was supposed to have a report of his subjects on Dr. Venjamin’s desk by the end of the day. Charlie had invested seventeen years into this project. They were more than just . . . some kind of lab rats to him. He had never really seen them as subjects to be honest. He wasn’t a scientific man. Never had been. But now he couldn’t bear to have other people view them that way. So how was he supposed to type up a cold summary of the last month? About how much food they consumed, how much rest they got, or the frequency of their bowel movements.

  Charlie never really believed he had a conscience before. He was like Rhett down the hall. Cold. Selfish. Callous. And free. He had done a lot of damage in his life and never cared. But now . . . he had things—people—to care about, perhaps for the first time. He did not want to damage that which meant he didn’t know how much longer he could work both sides of the game. Lie to his boss. Lie to his family. It was wearing him thin. Destroying his sanity. For the first time in his life, he knew guilt. He did not like its foul taste.

  He heard a knock and looked up to see the kindly faced Dr. Venjamin standing in the doorway with a smile. It worried Charlie that he had gotten so accustomed to living with beating hearts that he hadn’t heard Venjamin’s heart coming, or that he hadn’t smelled his earthy, sweet scent until he was already in the room. Was he losing his instincts and senses after years of being fed like a domesticated animal? He already sat and rolled over on command.

  Dr. Tobar Venjamin had the appearance of a benevolent old man with his thick head of wavy white hair, neatly trimmed beard, and spectacled blues eyes buried in a cushion of wrinkles. He, too, was pale from lack of sunlight. Nearly as pale as everyone else in Sangre Valley yet of late he had an ashen tint to his skin. He had always been a plump, well-fed man, his argyle sweater stretched over his padded belly beneath his lab coat, but over the past few weeks, the pounds had melted off of him leaving layers of sagging skin. There was an easy, soft spoken manner about the doctor; his smile inspired others to smile, he radiated amicability. But that was only one of Dr. Venjamin’s faces. When a frown overtook the smile, his whole face darkened, new circles under his eyes appeared giving him a sinister aura, and he chilled your blood—well, would have if it had been warm to begin with. He could threatened and belittle with such venom that you shrank and trembled. There was no doubt that the doctor was brilliant. However some wondered—Charlie among them—about his sanity.

  “Catch you at a bad time?” the doctor asked with a smile.

  “No. Just in thought. Trying to think if there was anything I left out of my report.” Charlie used to be an expert liar even before he joined Dr. Venjamin’s project. But in the last few years, he found it more and more difficult. He was sure everyone saw through his deceptions these days. He was always amazed when he wasn’t caught—both by the doctor and Val.

  “I thought I’d check in and see how you were holding up. How’s the family?”

  “They’re . . . they’re good.”

  “I’m looking forward to seeing them tomorrow night.”

  “Valerie’s excited too. She’s going into full swing. But, um, John and Amelia aren’t going to be there.”

  “No? I am disappointed.”

  “John wanted to take Lisa Cummings out and Amelia’s going to double with them with Drew Sanders.”

  Dr. Venjamin’s bushy eyebrows rose in surprise and excitement. “John and Lisa are a good match. They should be able to carry on the bloodline. Amelia and Drew, that’s an interesting start.”

  Charlie shifted in his seat. He didn’t particular like the idea of Amelia dating. Especially Drew Sanders. He was a bit older than Amelia. More than a bit to be honest. He was ever so much more dangerous than a seventeen year old boy. Charlie certainly did not like the idea of Dr. Venjamin approving of the boy Amelia had a crush on or his insinuations about bloodlines. “I don’t know if Amelia’s ready to date yet. She seems uncomfortable with the idea. She likes the boy but—“

  “But I’m sure you’ll get her to see that it’s healthy for a girl her age to go out and date. She’ll have fun. I know she feels like a misfit in school.”

  Charlie just started at him. Sometimes it was like Dr. Venjamin knew his children better than he did. But his children were teenagers. Teenagers kept secrets from their parents. And parents didn’t have Dr. Venjamin’s resources.

  “I’ll be sorry to miss their company. But young Harry will be there, won’t he?”

  “Yes, yes, wherever there’s a human, there’s Harry,” Charlie said forcing a smile.

  “I heard the rascal got himself in trouble at school.”

  “A fight, boys being boys.”

  “He couldn’t withstand the lure of a beating heart of his own kind. Went for the jugular, I bel
ieve?” There he went again, knowing all the details of his children’s lives.

  “That’s right. Valerie’s worried.”

  The doctor smiled. “No reason for that. I believe Harry is a very special little boy. Unique from his peers. I will be happy to chat with him.” The doctor paused for a moment. “Charlie, I’m proud of you. Your family by far is exceptional and you’ve done an exceptional job with them. I think it’s time to bring you on board to the next phase of our project. Honestly, I don’t know if we could do it without you. Tomorrow when you come in, come straight to my office. I want to brief you myself.” He turned to leave then stopped. “Please tell Valerie I look forward to her dinner—even if my stomach ailment will prevent me from partaking in the feast—I will enjoy the company immensely.”

  Charlie nodded and smiled. “Of course. We look forward to having you in our home.”

  Chapter Three

  Fresh Produce

  With a hat pinned to her head, petite white gloves on her hands, and a clutch purse, Valerie journeyed to the local Blood Market for the weekly grocery shopping. In the window display hung the tantalizing black and white hind legs of a cow still dripping fresh with blood. The opposite display housed a couple of young, healthy humans, their eyes glazed, and their bodies swaying as if they heard enchanted, imaginary music. Sedated humans always swayed like reeds in the wind. She never quite understood why. The sign in the window read “Untainted and Fresh! Bring your human home for dinner tonight!” The sign below it read: “Don’t have the time to prepare your own human for the big dinner? The Blood Market will drain your human for you!”

  Valerie shook her head at the sign before entering the store. Once, and only once, had she allowed the market to drain her human for her. It cost more than it was worth and they lost half the blood in the process. She’d rather do the job correctly herself or allow her family to feed directly from the body. She felt they got more nutrients that way even if it was a little barbaric. Harry, of course, loved it.

  The blue shopping cart she selected had a squeaky wheel that was slowly giving her a grinding headache as she steered down each aisle. She stocked up on animal meat—steaks, a couple legs of lamb, and even sprung for some delicacies that she hoped would peak Charlie’s appetite while satisfying Harry’s—freshly slaughtered turkeys, some venison meat, and a couple live rabbits. She spied some blood vessel candy. When Harry was younger, blood vessels were his favorite treat. He would suck them dry. She put a package in her cart. Yet her hopes were not high. She wished Harry could be as simple to feed as his siblings.

  She picked up a week’s worth of packaged blood, a handful of A, B, and O. She couldn’t taste the difference between the types, but Harry swore he could. With that thought, she picked up two of AB. At one time that was his favorite before the fresh human blood craze.

  With the daily meals of her family taken care of, she began her shopping for the dinner party. She would have to remember to call the blood delivery company to make sure they delivered a few extra bottles so her guests could drink fresh blood martinis instead of packaged. Then she would serve human hearts with aortas still attached. The human would be for dessert.

  “Hello Mrs. Murray,” the butcher greeted her. “Lovely night we’re having, isn’t it? What can I do for you?” He smiled at her, his canines extending long past his bottom lip.

  “I’m just fine, Dick. How’s Marcia and the kids?”

  “Everyone’s lovely, Mrs. Murray. Hope you can say the same of your lovely family?”

  “Yes. In fact we’re having Dr. Venjamin over for dinner tomorrow night and I need some hearts to serve.”

  “I think I can scavenge some up for you. How many do you need?”

  Let’s see, there would be Dr. Venjamin and Dr. Henrick, Rhett and Marie Miller, and of course her and Charlie. She had to admit, she was reluctant to pick one up for the two doctors. Both had delicate stomachs and always very diplomatically refused her delicious dinners, but their refusals were beginning to wear on her nerves. Why buy something they all knew would be rejected by a feigned stomachache? Why not just be honest and kill the charade? Even though one of the children would surely eat the leftovers, it was the principal of the matter. But if Jett Wilson’s wife could handle the waste of food and effort, so could Valerie. Harry would also be at the dinner table so that came to seven hearts.

  “Seven hearts, aortas still attached please.”

  “Coming right up!”

  As he wrapped her hearts in brown paper for her, she began eyeing the humans in the bin next to the meat counter. They had put the young ones in the front window. The ones in the bin were older, a little wider in girth, a little less sanguine in complexion, their blood vessels not as wide as the younger ones, the arteries a little more clogged, but she could hear their individual heartbeats, all were strong and healthy even with sedation.

  “There you go, Mrs. Murray. Anything else I can do for you?”

  “How are the humans looking today?” she asked even though she could plainly see.

  “Just off the truck tonight so less tranquilizers and such in the blood since they haven’t been sitting as long.”

  “Can you have the one in the back, the brown haired human with the blue sweater, brought out to my car for me?”

  “Of course, Mrs. Murray. Sounds like quite the party you’re giving.”

  Valerie smiled. “I hope so. See you soon.”

  He nodded at her and went to fetch her requested human.

  As she directed her squeaky cart towards the check out, an old friend of hers, Betsy Danover, walked by looking somewhat distracted.

  “Betsy! Honey, how are you?” Valerie stopped her with a hand on the shoulder. She was a pretty woman; her skin had the appearance of being carved out of the finest marble, her hair was kept longer than most modern styles so it fell over her shoulders in black cascades. Her black eyes were slanted and exotic. But today, they revealed something was amiss.

  “Valerie. How are you? Is that a new hat? It’s adorable. Did you get it at the Milliners Shop on Main Street? I love that shop.”

  “Thank you. No, Charlie bought it for me on one of his business trips,” she said touching the hat on her head.

  Betsy smiled, but her red lips trembled.

  “How is Bill?”

  “Good, good. He’s still working at the hospital. I mean, he’s not as high up as Charlie, but he’s there. Things are good.”

  “Is something wrong, dear?” Valerie gently touched her arm. It was taboo to ask, especially in a public place, but she just could not bring herself to pretend that her friend wasn’t in some sort of distress. Why, she and Betsy had grown up together, gone to school together since they were knee high.

  Her charming face began to lose its composure. She shook her head and clutched Valerie’s arm. “It’s . . . it’s nothing. No. I had another miscarriage two nights ago. That’s all.”

  “Betsy, I’m so sorry.”

  She forced a smile. “You’d think I’d be use to them by now. I’ve had one a year since Bill and I married nearly twenty years ago.”

  “How is Bill handling it?”

  “Bill’s a rock. He says we’ll just keep trying. God will bless us one day if we don’t lose faith. That was what he told me, then he went right back to reading the newspaper as if I just told him we were out of Type A blood.” She smiled nervously, her lips still trembling. “Sometimes I think it doesn’t faze him one bit, being childless. Losing all the children that we’ve lost.”

  “Of course it does! Don’t think otherwise for a moment. He’s just being a man. They can shoulder these types of things easier. Have you been to Dr. Henrick?”

  She nodded. “First thing tonight. He says I’m not damaged . . . down there, I mean, and that Bill and I should keep trying. He says there’s no reason why we shouldn’t have a child. Some day.”

  “Of course there isn’t. Next week, Betsy, we’ll go to the beauty parlor and get our hair done then treat ours
elves to some lunch at that fancy little eatery that only serves whole, living humans. It’ll take your mind off everything. They say that when you stop trying is when it happens.”

  “Is that how it happened for you and Charlie?”

  Valerie smiled, slightly embarrassed of her good luck. “We were fortunate with John and Amelia. But with Harry . . . yes, that’s how it happened. Just let me know if there is anything you need.”

  “You’re a good friend, Valerie. Thank you. Oh, they’ve got your human all packaged at the check out. I should let you go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “I’ll call you early next week to set a date, okay? Take care Betsy.”

  “You too.”

  Her heart cringed for Betsy. Valerie had been extremely fortunate—and rare—that she conceived and carried her first two children with so little trouble. It was a well known fact—even if one not often spoken—that vampires of different races had difficulty reproducing. She was of the Living Coven of vampires and Charlie was of the Silent Coven, same as Betsy and Bill. The only real difference between the two races were their chests. The Living Coven had a beating chest, and the Silent Coven had, well, silent chests. The Good Book told them that God created the first two vampires Adam and Eve who were both of the Living Coven, as were their two sons, Cain and Abel. After God accepted Abel’s sacrifice and rejected Cain’s, in jealousy Cain murdered his own brother. God marked him by silencing his chest. And as decades and centuries passed, it seemed God had also taken away his ability to reproduce. Two vampires of the Living Coven could bear children without problems. The Silent Coven couldn’t have children at all. For Valerie to conceive twice without Dr. Venjamin’s medical aid, then carrying both babies to term was unheard of. In fact, she and Charlie had more children than any other inter-race union. Thankfully they had all been born like their mother with a beating chest. But after Amelia was born, Valerie suffered two bloody, heartbreaking miscarriages of her own, a series of painful tests and procedures done by the great doctor, then her own long period of being unable to conceive. When she and Charlie finally decided to accept their family as it was, Harry stirred in her womb. It was a blessing. Close to a miracle. She loved her children above all else in this world and could not imagine Betsy’s pain of barrenness.