"Oh, now I understand." She blushed. "I had to see if the effects repeated orally. It was for the study."
"And I take it they did?"
"Well, yeah. But I found out other things, too!" Her eyes lit up. Her excitement and innocence almost made me feel foolish for thinking that she could be one of Satan's concubines.
"Before you tell me, would you mind if I take a quick shower?" For a second she looked as if I had spoken a foreign language. "I'm pretty dirty."
"Shower! Yes, of course. Take a right and go to the last door at the end. I don't think I've ever used that bathroom, but there should still be towels and soap in there. I can bring you a razor and some deodorant…if you don't mind baby-powder scent that is."
"The soap's enough," I said, wondering how many specks of Jack's blood remained on me. "Shaving and sweating are two problems I've never had to cope with."
"Aren't you lucky?"
"Rarely." With that, I left her standing and made my way out the door and down the carpeted walkway. Gentle light from small sconces dispersed on the otherwise bare wall to my right lit my way. To my left there was a black void with the ghostly outline of the dark chandelier hovering in the air. There were no lights on downstairs whatsoever, giving the impression that I walked next to a bottomless pit—or perhaps the darkened lair of monsters staring up at me. I hurried on.
I came to the last door in a row of several, turned the brass knob, and opened it. The bathroom's decadence struck me as fantastical, resembling something that would inspire a Bathrooms of the Millionaires show on television. I switched on the light, stepped inside, and closed the door behind me. I stood on a span of dark marble that would rival the size of most bedrooms. In one far corner sat a standalone clawed bathtub, while opposite from it stood a two-person teak shower enclosed in smoked glass. Passing by copper sinks resting on a large vanity, I walked to the shower and slid the door open.
As I reached for the knob to turn the water on, I noticed an oddity. Karen had said that she didn't think she ever used this bathroom, but puddles of water congregated on the floor. I looked to see if either showerhead was leaking, but saw nothing suspect. My eyes trailed down to a black washcloth pinned to a hook. I reached out and touched it—damp, as if someone had used it sometime within the past day. I touched the soap in the container and found it tacky with moisture as well. Either Karen had mental issues, or someone had used the shower recently.
I turned the water on to let it warm up, and then for peace of mind, returned to the door and locked it, not in the mood for a Psycho scene. I had had enough surprises for one day.
Once finished with washing any remains of Jack down the drain, I walked back to my room, quietly opening the doors of the other rooms on my way. I wanted to ascertain that I was the only guest staying at Hotel Karen, especially the only immortal guest. All of the other bedrooms were dark and empty with beds made and curtains closed. Enough deceit can cause a man to believe monsters hide in every darkened corner, but the only monster present appeared to be me. I stepped into my room and found Karen pacing as if she were an expectant father in the hospital.
"Have you had other guests lately?" I asked.
"No. Not that I can remember," she replied. It struck me as a strange answer.
"Remember?"
"Sorry, I was lost in thought. No, no I haven't. Why do you ask?"
"The shower was wet."
"Really?" She looked down, thinking, and then her head shot up. "Oh yeah! I forgot! I washed some of my equipment there the other day. Sorry, I wasn't expecting Sherlock Holmes for a guest."
Her faulty memory concerned me, but my senses told me that she was truthful. Her pupils stayed steady, the thrumming of her heart didn't skip a beat, and her scent didn't take on an acidic aspect, which was the best detector of lies. If anything, she appeared to be the most honest and steady person I had ever tested.
"Forgive me for being so nosy," I said. "I've been the victim of a lot of deceit today."
"I understand. The wife thing really sucks."
"Not only that, but I think there are others like me nearby." I observed her reaction to this carefully.
"Serious?" she asked, steady as a rock. "There's more like you?"
"Yes, and they can morph so they resemble different people."
"Wow, sort of like you putting on your sheep's clothing and looking human?"
"Yes, but they don't have one set of clothes so to speak. Karen, I have to ask you something."
She hesitated and then uncertainly said, "Okay."
"Are you a demon?" Her eyes widened, her lips pursed, and then she busted out laughing.
"You found me out!" she lunged at me, still laughing. "Give me your blood! I'm thirsty! Feed me, feed me!" She grabbed me around the waist and bit on my chest playfully. I grabbed her by the arms and eased her back.
"I'm serious!" I said, more loudly than I intended. Her amusement fell away as she looked into my eyes.
"You are, aren't you?" she asked, a curious look on her face.
"Yes."
She took a deep breath and then said, "I am not a demon…whatever that is." I felt the beating of her heart through my hands, and watched the veins throb on the side of her neck. Still steady. Her beautiful dark eyes held mine firmly as I smelled the air around us, which was now growing sweet. She wasn't lying, she was becoming aroused. I released her.
"Thank you for reassuring me," I said.
She cleared her throat and looked away. "Anytime," she replied, her voice soft.
Hoping to break the awkward silence, I asked, "So what were these great discoveries about me you made?"
"Hmm? Oh. You're a snake."
"Thanks."
"No, I mean you definitely have snake DNA in you, a poisonous viper to be exact. I found traces in your skin, plus your teeth are so similar to a viper's that it's uncanny."
"It's not uncanny; it's how we were designed. What else did you find?" Exhaustion was washing over me, but I didn't want to trek downstairs for the blood bags. I wanted to listen to her voice instead.
"I'm not sure that I can replicate the healing qualities of your venom."
"Really? In this day and age? Why not?"
"Because it appears to be alive."
"That's crazy. The only thing in me alive is my energy, my original spirit. Karen, I'm nothing more than a rock with a spirit."
"In a way, we all are, but you've got something that is very special. It could change the world, Mike."
"I have to sit down. It's been an exhausting night." I made my way to the edge of the bed and took a seat. Too much was happening too fast. She followed and stood before me, her wispy pajamas blowing in the breeze from the still open window, framing her hourglass figure perfectly with every small gust.
"Mike, your venom is like a viral soup." It was my turn to look confused. She continued, "It reminds me of the Komodo dragon, a large lizard…"
"Oh, great. So now I'm a lizard," I interrupted.
"No, no, you're much more evolved. It was just the closest thing I could think of. Komodo dragons have a soup of harmful bacteria living in their mouths. They kill with one bite, but it isn't the bite itself that kills, it's infection that comes shortly thereafter. Interestingly, the dragons aren't infected themselves by what they carry, just their victims are. Sort of like you."
"The point is, do not kiss me?" She smiled, but continued, hint sidelined for the moment.
"You carry your venom in pouches buried in your upper jaw, not throughout your mouth like a Komodo. And, what you carry has a positive effect on humans, that is, if they don't get all the blood sucked out of them."
"And?" Tired, I sank into the bed, but still listened. She sat down on the edge I just vacated.
"You appear to carry multiple viruses, or at least viral-like entities, in your venom. I've identified three main ones. When injected into the bloodstream, two go straight for a person's head. One of them causes excessive adrenaline production, and the other, w
ell, causes the brain's pleasure centers to erupt. The third is the key to cures, but I've never seen anything like it. It's like a cell-destroying virus, but with a propulsion system that I didn't understand until I saw you fly. Like you, it seems to tap into some energy unknown to us in order to propel itself. It moves through the system at incredible speed, but several thousand will also stay near the puncture wound as what I think is a safeguard. They insure the sterility of the blood you drink."
"Biological pasteurization. A natural evolutionary path." I yawned, rolled to my side, and fluffed the pillow under my head.
"Stay with me. The amazing thing is they only attack free-floating pathogens or cells infected with pathogens. I placed a drop of my own blood into the venom sample and nothing was attacked at all because you've already sterilized me. Your venom almost seems conscious itself. Is that possible, Mike?"
Her words were interesting, but had grown distant due to the soft rhythm of her voice relaxing me, making me feel at ease. I wanted to stay up with her, but I would have to feed to do so. Lacking that, sleep was the only other option. Over seven decades masquerading as a human had worn me out, and I had yet to truly rest so busy was I handing out so-called vengeance. So far, I had only managed to condone my wife's affair and get my former boss killed. Not very awe-inspiring.
"I doubt it," I heard myself mumble, but to what I wasn't sure, and then my eyes closed.
A few seconds later, barely coherent, I heard the window slide shut. Gentle footsteps, and then the bed moved slightly. Soft warmth touched my chest as I lay on my side, and then I smelled the delicate floral scent of her hair. She eased against me, spooning, and pulled a blanket over us. My arm went around her waist and held her close. It seemed as if energy began flowing into me from thin air.
Should I take it a step further? No, that didn't seem to be what this was about, plus in my weakened state I worried about disappointing her. And then I heard her sniffle, and realized that she was crying softly.
"Karen," I whispered. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Sorry."
"You're crying?"
She took a deep breath and then spoke. "I wish I had met you before I met him."
"Him?" I asked.
"My ex."
"Sometimes it takes bad relationships to learn how to have good ones."
She hesitated for a moment. "I don't really remember much of my relationship with him. Isn't that funny?"
"People tend to block out painful memories."
"You'd make a great shrink."
"I try."
"Do you remember everything from your past?" she asked
"My brain is pretty packed. Often memories are fuzzy, especially if a lot of time has passed."
"That's how I feel, too. The past is fuzzy and sometimes it seems dreams are memories and memories are dreams."
"You've been through a lot."
She had stopped crying and to my astonishment, giggled. "You're such a comfort. God I wish we could have become friends long ago." She pressed her backside against me in a move that struck me as flirtatious. "In a strange way, I feel like I've always known you."
She wiggled some more, her sudden change disconcerting. She started to roll over and I closed my eyes, feigning sleep. Perhaps I was being foolish, but suddenly I was nervous, remembering that I was still a married man. But was I still bound to that bond? I had to figure things out; had to separate fact from fiction in my life before diving into another relationship.
"Mike?" she whispered, her lips near mine. I breathed deep and then exhaled, starting to drift away for real. Her lips touched mine, soft and warm, and then retreated. "Sweet dreams, Michael."
Completely relaxed, I enjoyed the warmth of the beautiful woman next to me as I drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 10
I woke up several hours later, knowing Karen would be gone. I had felt her slip away in the night, letting her go without a word.
I picked up the cell phone from the nightstand and saw that Lori had sent me a message. Sara had given her permission—thanks to my not so subtle urging—to come and stay with me. Lori had packed a bag and had a ride from school to wherever I was staying. She just needed the address—and I just needed to get permission from my current landlord.
Sorting through my gym bag, I was dismayed at the poor choice of clothes I had chosen to bring. Trying to pack after learning of a spousal affair wasn't exactly conducive to proper style planning, especially when also being booted out of the house by the offending spouse. My former life sounded like a soap opera and As the Stomach Turns seemed an appropriate title. I found some blue sweatpants and a white t-shirt, and as I put them on, the sound of bacon sizzling when it hit the frying pan caught my attention. Dropping my cell in a pocket, I followed the smoky smell to Karen's apartment.
The door was open, letting the deadly-but-enticing fumes work their way through the house. I once read that eating a strip of bacon took five minutes of life away and I thought, maybe if I eat a few pigs worth I would be free. I never found that much bacon in one spot, but I smoked filter-less cigarettes for about a century like a chimney. No luck. Still here. Perhaps one of the new wonder drugs like crack would work better, but then I imagined what a crack-head vampire might do to the world.
I stepped across the threshold into her apartment. Karen's back was to me as she flipped the bacon in the small kitchen. I walked forward just as she turned around and gasped in fright, nearly dropping the spatula that she held in her hand.
"I'm sorry. The door was open," I said.
"It's okay. I'm just not used to you being here, but I actually left the door open hoping to wake you. Looks like it worked." She sat the spatula down as I approached.
"No one, other than my daughter, has cooked for me in years."
She looked at me a little funny, and then asked, "You have a daughter? I didn't know that."
"How could you?"
"True, but I was under the assumption…I assumed you couldn't father kids?"
"Yes, you're right. She's adopted, but I consider her mine, and…" I paused, unsure of how to ask.
"And what?"
"She wants to come and stay with me, but since I really don't have my own place yet, that probably wouldn't be a good idea."
"Nonsense!" Karen exclaimed. "It would be fantastic to have another woman around. I've always dreamed of having a daughter! What's her name? How old is she?"
"Lori, and she's fifteen."
"Does she know about you?"
"Right after I changed, she found out. She was very supportive."
"That's wonderful. I can't wait to meet her."
"The bacon," I said.
"Huh?" Just as she opened her mouth, I saw the frying pan behind her burst into flames. Smoke billowed up as the grease burned and popped. The smoke detector on the ceiling instantly started screaming. I rushed past her and looked for a lid to smother the flames, but couldn't find it.
"The lid, do you have it, or some baking soda?" I yelled above the incessant alarm.
"I don't know! Remember, I really don't cook much. I think it might be under the stove, maybe."
Not wanting to waste time looking for a maybe, I grabbed the dishtowel hanging on the oven door and quickly slapped it down through the fire and onto the grease. Holding it down firm with my hands, I slid the pan off the burner. I patted around the edges to extinguish lingering flames, while hot grease and charred bacon bits coursed through my fingers. Catastrophe averted, I reached for the burner control and turned it from high to off, and then went to the sink to wash my hands.
Karen seemed mesmerized, just staring at me. I wished she would get a chair and turn the alarm off, but if her cooking skills were any indication of her home prowess, she most likely didn't know how. Great scientist does not necessarily equate to great homemaker, no more than a computer guru can always fix a car. Humans are like ants or bees, with each holding a distinct skill set to better serve the race as a whole. That's really the only way it
could work though. They can't all be kings and queens.
With hands still wet, I floated up to the ceiling and realized the smoke was too thick to press the reset button. It would just go off again. I twisted the detector, unclipped the wires, and floated back down in front of her. Her mouth stood open, with eyes wide.
"You might want to open a window," I said, turning on the range-hood fan. She looked at me as if I was an alien, which I guess was appropriate. "Karen, window."
"Oh, sorry," she said, snapping back to reality. "You came in looking normal and then changed so fast. It's hard to get used to."
I pulled the fangs up and projected human again. She had told me to walk around in my natural state, but I've learned that humans often ask for things that they're not ready for yet. I sat the smoke alarm on the small dining table, intending on reattaching it once the smoke cleared, while she went and opened the windows in the living room.
"The bacon's toast," I said when she returned.
"I warned you about my cooking. How about some nice O negative?"
"You brought it upstairs?"
"Yep. Vampires are probably the only ones I could appease in the kitchen. Blood, I'm good at, bacon, not so much. Have a seat and I'll get you a glass."
I sat while she opened a bag and dribbled the blood into an iced glass from the freezer. My mouth was watering as she carried it over and handed it to me. In order to take it in I had to change again, causing her to look at me with what I could only call desire. She was odd, but curiously fascinating. I took a sip.
"Karen?" I said, licking my upper lip.
"Hmm?" she hummed, waking from the spell that my sipping fangs casted on her.
"You are the best damn cook I have ever met." She laughed, and I found it contagious and started laughing myself. She had a beautiful laugh, a beautiful smile, and I considered the possibility that I was falling for this woman.
I recalled my last true love, which regrettably was not my soon-to-be-ex Sara, nor the passion-driven Ricka of the seventies. It was earlier, a relationship spanning the 1930s and abruptly ending in the early-forties. During the height of World War II, the potion I had taken in the eighteen hundreds wore off and my memory returned. It was dangerous times, so I didn't want to stay my immortal self for long, should word get to the Nazis about me.
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