Kill Me

by Alex Owens

  He smirked at me, watching as the realization landed. That’s why Bette deferred to him at the club. She had to respect his authority. She’d had no choice.

  “So you’re her maker then?” I asked the question more to see how he would respond. Was that what Gregor meant earlier when he said that Bette couldn’t refuse him?

  “Yes,” He said, still not looking my way.

  Well, that was a let-down. But I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

  “How old are you? Who is your maker… Clive?” I really didn’t suspect that. I just figured the best way to get him talking was to insult him. Guys are easy like that.

  “You ask a lot of questions.” He stiffened and sipped his champagne.

  I pressed further. “Only ones that need answering. So, do you have to do whatever Clive says or something?”

  Gregor’s face turned to stone. “He is not my maker. He is my brother.”

  “Your real brother or your vamp brother?” I needled.

  “You’re not going to quit, are you?”

  I couldn’t tell if he was irritated by me, or enjoying the banter. It was getting me the answers I needed, so I kept at him.

  “Nope,” I smiled as sweetly as I could and he visibly loosened a notch.

  He sighed. “Fine…Gregor and I have the same maker. In fact, we were changed at exactly the same moment and as far as I know that had never been done before us.”

  “So you’re special, like me?” I teased him.

  Gregor furrowed his brow. “Aside from the normal vampire gifts, we cannot do what you do.”

  An awkward silence settled in between us.

  Well, this was going just peachy. I wanted to ask him about the conversation I’d overheard earlier between him and Clive, but a little voice in my head warned me not to. That left Bette or our strip club encounter as possible topics.

  “I really do need to speak with Bette. I have to borrow her and one of her violins for a performance in a little while.” I scanned the room looking for her again.

  “I can get you a violin, but I truly do not know where Bette has been all day.” Gregor was still holding back. There was a subtle difference in me asking where she was currently and him qualifying that he didn’t know where she had been. Emphasis on had.

  I wondered if I could sense Bette like she felt me, in the twisted sense of vampire-lojack. I hadn’t tried, but now seemed like as good a time as any.

  I closed my eyes and remembered the first time I saw her, the way she looked at me and smiled. I thought of how it had felt to press her up against the metal door. I thought of falling asleep in her arms just hours before. My body tingled once and a red haze drifted in front of my darkened eyelids.

  Trust no one. Be strong. Use your gifts. I will see you when I am able.

  I gasped, “Bette?” and felt a hand on my arm.

  “Claire?” Gregor took my face into his hands. “Is everything okay?”

  I thought about what Bette had whispered to me from wherever the hell she was. Trust no one.

  “Fine. I guess I’m just a little hungry.” I shrugged my shoulders and gave my best Newbie Vamp smile.

  “Already?” He looked like he didn’t believe me.

  “Yeah, I guess that bracelet really took it out of me. That and I had to come through the sun to get here.” I lied, but at least it sounded plausible.

  Gregor bought my little fib and he relaxed, scanning the room. After several seconds, he nodded to a doorway in the back wall. I watched the door not understanding what he meant. Then I noticed one of the caterers carrying a stack of empty trays away.

  “Go on. Feed while the urge is still manageable.” He practically shoved me toward the door.

  Well, crap. I couldn’t very well say that I’d lied and I wasn’t hungry at all. I also didn’t want him questioning how easily I made out in the sunlight.

  Without much of a choice, I left Gregor’s side and slipped through the service door unnoticed. I didn’t plan on feeding again, but then it occurred to me that if something bad was going down and if I had any chance of surviving it, I’d better top off my tank.

  I wasn’t sure how logical my thinking was, but it was the best I could do. Besides, I’d be dealing with all of this completely on my own in a few days, so I’d better get the hang of it.

  The same person I’d seen earlier with empty trays was now returning with a full one. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and pretended to take a call while he passed by me and went out to the main hall without a backward glance.

  I formulated a quick plan while I waited for him to return. I would act like I was in distress; play the damsel that needed saving long enough to get him into the dark corner at the elbow of the hall. Then I would feed for the first time all on my own while singing that damn child’s song so I didn’t get carried away. Okay, so it wasn’t much of a plan but I cut myself some slack. I was, after all, an untrained newbie.

  The metal door swung open again and I hurried to the corner and assumed the position. In this case, that meant flopping down on the floor and grabbing my ankle like I was in pain. The man, middle aged and smelling like garlic approached me. Great, of all the people at the dinner, I had to pick the stinky one.

  I contorted my face at the scent of him, which hopefully looked like a pain grimace. When he was close enough to almost step on me, I whimpered.

  The man jumped, startled. “Oh! Are you okay Miss?”

  He’d called me Miss, how sweet! It was almost enough for me to let him go unbitten. Then I thought of Bette and snapped back into my role.

  “I think I’ve sprained my ankle. Owww!” I made a big show out of clutching my leg and for good measure I pushed my skirt up an inch further with my elbow.

  “Let me get you some help.” He turned to go.

  I couldn’t let that happen. “No, I’ll be fine. I do this all the time. Can you just...help me stand?”

  He looked unsure and I noticed for the first time that he avoided eye contact with me, like I frightened him. Did he know what I was? No, that was impossible. It was more likely that he was phobic or something.

  I held up my hand, betting that he wouldn’t just leave me hanging. I was right.

  As he took my hand and bent to help me up, I decided to try Bette’s trick to soothe him. If I knew how she’d done it, my persuasion might have worked. Instead, a faint sweat broke out on the man’s brow and his heart rate doubled.

  I pretended to be unsteady on my feet so that he had to hold onto me a little bit longer. There was nothing left to do but bite quickly and hope that he didn’t scream bloody murder.

  “Thank you,” I said squeezing his hand. “And I’m sorry.”

  “What...” his words were cut off as he looked into my face. I had no idea what I looked like at the moment, but if it mirrored the way I’d caught Bette looking at me in the hall, then I understood his terror.

  The confusion that flashed across his face was replaced by blinding fear as I launched my attack. Unlike the writhing strippers, the caterer most-certainly did not enjoy being my little snack.

  He didn’t scream, he didn’t fight. Still, for the length of Twinkle, Twinkle, his fear and anxiety marched over my skin like ants. Maybe I was just that green. Or maybe my other gifts were interfering. Already, being an empathetic vampire was beginning to suck.

  I left the man curled into the fetal position in the shadows of the hall. He whimpered like a baby and my stomach lurched at the thought of what I’d put him through. Still, a tiny part of me wasn’t concerned about the man, only satisfied and fed. That scared me more than Clive ever had.

  I was becoming.

  “There you are,” said a voice from the open door. “I was beginning to think that you’d become lost.”

  Gregor looked from me to the lump of a man in the corner. I bit my lip and avoided his eyes.

  “Didn’t you sing the song?” He sounded angry, ready to scold me for my inept Vamp skills.

  “He’s
not dead. He’s just terrorized.” There wasn’t much more to say than that. I licked my lips and shrugged.

  My Vamp-gramp mumbled something in Italian and went to the man, kneeling down and staying that way for several minutes. Then he helped the man stand and sent him on his way.

  “Let’s get you that violin.” Gregor strode past me without even looking my way, his jaw set in a firm grimace.

  Great, he must think I’m a monster. He was right though. I was now one of the things that went bump-in-the-night now.

  “Hey!” I jogged to his side and grabbed Gregor’s arm.

  He spun like a top and looked at me in surprise. “I see you’re finally getting some vampire abilities.”

  I scowled. “Huh?”

  He motioned down the long hallway, back to where we’d been standing in the far corner. “It took you less than a second to get from there to here, and hardly any effort at all to spin me.”

  I looked from Gregor to the corner and back again. Impossible. It was at least fifty yards. Had I really moved that fast?

  Speed and superhuman strength, nice! At least I was getting something for all the trouble. I imagined how quickly I could clean my house or deal with all those pesky repairs that never got done.

  Trust no one.

  “Well, you know me. I’m just a kettle of surprises.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Now, about that violin...”

  I didn’t miss the frown on Gregor’s face. He seemed concerned about my abilities, especially the ones he didn’t understand or know about. He said nothing though, as he followed me back to Bette’s booth to choose an instrument.

  Chapter 22

  When we entered the booth, I was surprised to see Domino pacing and Morgan reclining on the settee, looking bored. Both looked up as we entered.

  “Squee! Claire!” Morgan jumped up and ran to me, wrapping me in a hug and kissing me squarely on the mouth. She smelled like apple blossom and pear. And blood, sweet, delicious blood.

  I pulled away and held Morgan at arms-length. I was glad to see her, but I’d been unprepared for how delicious she would smell. I couldn’t eat my future Nanny. It was just bad form.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, forcing myself to smile.

  “Bette said you wanted to talk to me. You know, about living with you.” Morgan grinned and bounced in place.

  I made a mental note to thank Bette for giving Morgan the wrong idea. “Well, if you decide to take the job, you would be staying at my house as a Nanny for my daughter Quinn.”

  A look of disappointment flashed across her face, but she recovered quickly. “You have a daughter? How old is she?”

  “Quinn’s eight. She’ll be in school most of the time, but I need someone to pick her up, run errands and little things. Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?” I asked.

  “Sure, anything you need.” Morgan winked.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d think Morgan had feelings for me. I looked to Gregor for some help. He shook his head, as if to say “we’ll talk about it later.”

  I turned back to Morgan. “Okay, great. We’ll get the details straight later, but I guess the biggest question is can you be ready to go back with me tomorrow?”

  If she was surprised by the swift deadline, she didn’t show it. “You bet!”

  “Great!” I turned to Domino, who’d remained silent in the background the entire time. “Can you take Morgan home so she can start packing?”

  Domino regarded me warily, but agreed.

  “Good, I’ll walk you two out.” I gestured to the wall of instruments as I looked at Gregor. “Can you pick out a violin, something that looks old please?”

  Gregor eyed me suspiciously as I left him alone. I caught up with Domino and Morgan just outside the booth.

  “Thanks again, Morgan.” I hugged the Stripper-turned-Nanny quickly. I didn’t want to encourage her. “Give me a sec with Domino, okay?”

  Morgan nodded and bounced over to a nearby display of concert images. The photographer noticed her and her skimpy clothing right away and wasted no time in chatting Morgan up. I’d have to get her a more conservative wardrobe soon. Followed by a what’s-appropriate-and-what’s-not talk.

  I turned my attention to Domino. He was surly and barely containing himself, as usual. I wondered again why he hated me so much. What had I ever done to him? I decided to take the honey approach.

  “Have you seen Bette today? When I got up she was gone. No one seems to know where she is… I’m worried. I mean, is it normal for her to disappear. Maybe it is. How would I know?”

  Okay, so I gush when I’m anxious.

  “I have not seen her.” Domino grunted. “But I am worried also.”

  Fear crept up my spine. If Domino was worried then something was definitely wrong.

  “When was the last time you spoke to her? What did she say?” I asked.

  “Bette called early this morning. I assume she had just left you at the hotel,” Domino said. “She said she had something to take care of and asked me to bring Morgan to see you.”

  “What was so important that she had to rush off and leave me sleeping?” I said.

  Domino shrugged and remained stoic. Right—a good employee doesn’t question, they just follow orders.

  “She also had me take care of this.” He pulled a sheath of folded papers from his inner suit pocket and thrust them in my direction with a sneer.

  “What is this?” I asked, opening the bundle. It was mostly a bunch of legal mumbo-jumbo, but buried in between the last two pages was a cashier’s check for an obscenely large amount of money. And it was made out to me.

  My stomach rolled.

  I should be happy. I should be doing cartwheels, flipping over-the-moon with joy. But instead it just felt wrong. One of the last things Bette had seen to was making sure I received my inheritance. Had she thought there was a chance she wouldn’t be around to do it herself? I hoped that wasn’t the case.

  “But...” I glanced to the little piece of paper that changed my life and then to the man who’d handed it to me. “Not that I’m not grateful, but I’d rather find Bette. I need her.”

  “I know. But I can’t feel sorry for you right now. It all comes back to you.” Domino wouldn’t look at me, but his voice softened just a little.

  I wanted to protest, but I knew he was probably right.

  The guilt knotted in my stomach. He walked away from me and retrieved Morgan from the photographer’s clutches. The poor guy looked so sad to see her go. I didn’t blame him. Morgan was a looker, all right.

  “Domino!” I called out to him. “I’ll find her, it will all be okay. I promise.”

  He studied me for several long seconds, took Morgan by the arm and said, “You better” before walking away, leaving me standing there with no answers and a fat check in my hand.

  “What do you have there, Clara?” purred a voice right behind my ear.

  I jumped and shoved the check and papers into my bag. “Jesus, Clive! Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to sneak up on people?”

  I stumbled backwards, trying to put a little distance between us.

  “I am vampire, Clara. It’s what we do.” Clive snickered, shaking his head. “You new ones are too soft, with your empathy and morals and manners.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m sorry Clive. If you’d prefer, I could just tear your throat out right here?”

  Eww. Just saying that creeped me out. I prayed that I’d never be like him. But if I really wanted to, I bet I could kick his slimy tail all over the dark side.

  Clive’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “I’d love for you to try.”

  I glared at him, trying to pluck a snappy insult from my brain. I came up with a big, fat nothing. No doubt a dozen zingers would come to me later. It was always that way.

  “There you are Claire.” Gregor ducked through the curtained doorway holding a deeply burnished violin gingerly in his hands. “Brother,” he acknowledged Clive bef
ore turning back to me.

  “It’s perfect!” I beamed, “Now if I can just find someone to play it.”

  I looked hopefully at Gregor, but he shook his head.

  “I don’t play. But Bette said you make beautiful music.”

  “I’m pretty sure that was the haunted violin, not me,” I argued, still ignoring Clive. I hoped he would just disappear into a puff of smoke and ash. If only a girl could be so lucky.

  “Show us.” Clive gestured to the violin.

  I laughed in his face. My, my…I was getting brave.

  Gregor stepped closer to me and lowered his voice. “Just do as he says. You may surprise yourself.”

  I considered my options. My favorite one—crack the violin over my knee and plunge the wooden neck into Clive’s chest cavity. Or I could skulk back into the booth and try to play the damn thing. I chose practicality over pleasure. I did have to find someone to play it since Bette was AWOL.

  “Fine, give it here.” I held out my hand and took the antique violin. “In the booth, now.”

  I pointed to the door, and both men seemed momentarily stunned that I was ordering them around. I’d gotten cocky, not to mention faster and stronger since my first solo-feed. I wonder if that was just a coincidence.

  “What are you waiting for? Go on.” I shooed them inside.

  Chapter 23

  I was not amused. I’d tried to play the violin and judging by the looks on Gregor and Clive’s faces, I had failed miserably. Not that I needed them to tell me that. My own ears were bleeding, for heaven’s sake.

  “I won’t say I told you so, but...” I smirked.

  Gregor paced, “Okay, so we know you can’t play the violin; not even the special one.”

  Clive grunted, “So what is different this time?”

  “Nothing, really. I was sitting here. Bette was beside me, close enough that our legs were touching. And...”

  Gregor smiled and threw up his hands. “That’s it! Bette is a Maestro. You borrowed her talent.”

  It made sense. I did seem to be borrowing a lot of things from others lately. Emotional hijacking may be the typical Empath accomplishment, but using someone’s talent was too sweet for words. Imagine all the things I could do with that. Painting like O’Keefe. Juggling like a circus clown. Crazy gymnastics like Mary Lou.