Two Kiss: An Apocalyptic Urban Fantasy (Transmissions from the International Council for the Exploration of the Universe Book 2)

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Two Kiss: An Apocalyptic Urban Fantasy (Transmissions from the International Council for the Exploration of the Universe Book 2) Page 2

by E. J. Kimelman


  I stared openly at my friend, the lengthening of her teeth making her somehow even more beautiful. I leaned forward wanting to touch them. Megan gave in, the glass clasped to her lips, tipping up in a blur of motion and then it was on the coffee table, empty. Megan swiped at her mouth and sat back, staring at her mother, resentment clear in her features.

  "Sip your brandy, Darling," Pearl said, her voice light and friendly again. I sipped, it was sweet but sharp, burning all the way down. I could feel color rising to my cheeks in response. "Now," Pearl placed her hand on my thigh. "I'm going to explain some things to you. I will use my influence to keep you calm but this is going to be hard."

  "Your influence?"

  Pearl nodded. "Part of our transformation is more control over our own emotions. With time we also learn to control others." I nodded feeling calm, at ease, ready to hear whatever she had to tell me. "Good, you have my daughter’s blood and that is why I've brought you here."

  "You left her," I said. "You abandoned her when she was just a child. Do you know what happened to her?" I asked. A million times I'd thought about Megan's parents, druggies who never gave a shit, is how Megan put it. I'd spent so much of my life hating them, wondering what kind of a monster could leave someone as special as Megan. Pearl raised her eyebrows at me.

  "Her father and I were turned when she was very young. We could not take her with us."

  "That's bullshit," I said without anger, it felt like a fact, simple and true. "You were on drugs. She was in and out of the system until you finally disappeared. Do you know what happened to her? To us?" I asked. "Did you know when it was happening?"

  Pearl frowned. "Darling, this is not the time for that discussion. The world as you know it is coming to an end."

  "That already happened," I said, "when Megan disappeared."

  Pearl shook her head. "No Darling, I mean that all of humanity is in danger. We believe that the scales have tipped and your species has finally done it. We brought you here today to save you."

  I felt the weight of her hand on my thigh. "Save me how?"

  "To turn you."

  "Turn me?"

  Megan spoke then. "Darling," she said, "you need to become like us or you'll die, or worse."

  "Worse?"

  Pearl nodded. "You'll either be turned by a zombie or-"

  She was cut off by a voice behind me: "Or become a blood bag," a man's deep rumble said. I turned to look and saw a devastatingly handsome man crossing the room toward us. His jet black hair was slicked back from his face. The man had a strong nose, chiseled jaw, and those same light, penetrating blue eyes. "Not that you would mind," he continued. Megan stood up in a flash. He laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm not going to drink from her. But someone should explain the other option to her."

  Megan growled. "No one is going to touch her."

  The man smiled at me. “Megan, don’t you want to introduce me to your friend?”

  “Darling, this is my Father, Lenox.” He extended his hand, standing above me, his eyes glittering as he looked down at me. I shook his hand. Lenox’s skin was as smooth and cold as Megan’s.

  Megan sat down next to me and her father moved away. "You have a decision to make,” Megan said, her voice low and tight.

  "How can I make a decision if I'm being influenced?"

  Megan looked over at her mother. "Give her a little room, Mom." Pearl lifted her hand from my thigh and I felt panic starting to rise. "Not that much," she said. I felt it subside. Megan smiled at me. "Simply put, the zombies are rising. It is prophesied that they will take over the world. We need to protect humans."

  "Prophesied by who?"

  Lenox sat down in one of the leather chairs and crossed his legs. Lacing his fingers together, elbows resting on the chair's arms, he smiled. "It is written in our religious texts."

  "That's it?" I asked. He raised his eyebrows. I shrugged. "There are so many religions and beliefs, how can you know that yours is right?"

  "Faith," he answered.

  "Is it your faith that drives you to protect humans or is it because we are your food?"

  "Food is a simplification," Megan said. "The fact is, Darling, zombies are spreading at an uncontrollable rate."

  Megan's father leaned forward and picked up Pearl's glass of blood. Taking a sip, he made a face. "I don't know how you drink it like that," he said.

  Megan took my hand in hers. "Listen to me, Darling, you have to become one of us, or you'll be forced into camps."

  "Camps?"

  Pearl answered. "We've been preparing. You may not believe in our prophecy but it is coming true. In order to survive we've built compounds all around the world to keep humans safe."

  "The cost of entry," Megan's father said with a smile, "is a mere blood donation."

  I nodded understanding. "You need us to survive so you'll keep us alive. At least enough to keep you going."

  Her father smiled. "She gets it."

  "So, you see, Darling," Megan said, "you need to become one of us so that you don't have to..."

  "Become a blood bag," her father said with a smile. "But, what Megan is leaving out, is that it feels really good." He rolled the words "really" and "good" around with his tongue, turning them dirty with his tone.

  "What does?" I asked.

  "Being fed upon," he answered, his gaze holding mine

  "No," Megan said. "Not her."

  "You know how pleasurable it is," Pearl said. "She should be given the option."

  "No," Megan said again.

  Dimitri spoke then, I'd forgotten all about him, he stood like a statue next to the fireplace. "I'll do it," he said.

  "Good," Megan's father stood. "That's perfect."

  Megan's hand tightened on mine to the point of pain. I felt it through the haze of the influence and I grabbed onto it. Using the pain as a line back to myself, out from under the cape they'd thrown over me. "No," Megan said. "I'll do it."

  Pearl shook her head. "You know you can't."

  "Why?" I asked.

  Pearl turned to me. "You are of the same blood. We do not feed off our own blood."

  "Same blood?"

  "Our blood pact," Megan said with a small smile. "We promised."

  "That's why we are taking time out from this war to bring you in," Pearl said.

  All the vampires in the room cocked their heads at once. "We must go," Megan's father said, suddenly standing. "Dimitri, take her to her room."

  "Can't –" Megan began, but her father glared at her.

  "You will come with us," he said, his voice that same commanding tone Pearl had used earlier. Megan went to speak. "Not another word," he cut her off. His voice was quiet but I could feel a wave of something cross the room. Megan stood as did her mother. Then they were gone in a blur. The front door slammed behind them and I was alone with Dimitri.

  Without their influence I felt panic starting to rise in my throat, tears filled my eyes; that deep and terrifying hunger in my gut began to grow outward, taking over my limbs.

  Images battered my brain. My father in the woods. Megan's blue eye. Megan's father's menacing smile. The tobacco clinging to the tip of Pearl's tongue.

  <<<<>>>>

  "You had no idea they were a food source?" I asked, astounded by Darling's total lack of knowledge about herself.

  She smiled and shook an empty beer can at me. "I'd like another."

  I waved to the guard, he left us alone, the click of the door behind him, that slide of well-oiled metal made Darling close her eyes in appreciation. "I love that sound," she said.

  "When did you figure out that you could control them?"

  Her eyes opened and caught mine. I stopped breathing, unable to look away, terrified by the obvious power I saw in her gaze. "Soon enough," she said.

  <<<<>>>>

  CHAPTER THREE

  "Come with me," Dimitri said but I didn't move. My hand holding the brandy was shaking so badly that the golden liquid threaten
ed to spill over the edge. Dimitri strolled over and stood looking down at me. I was hyperventilating. My chest tight.

  Dimitri sat down next to me, the couch slouching under his weight. He put his hand over mine and took the glass from me. "Do you want me to calm you?" he asked. I felt warmth coming from him. He placed his fingers against my wrist. Gently, barely touching at all. The warmth traveled down my arm and throughout my body, weighing a thick layer of calm over me.

  "There now," he said with a smile. "Come with me, I'll show you to your room."

  "I have a room?"

  "Yes, we expect you to stay."

  "But how can I decide what to do with all of you controlling me?"

  He smiled. "Maybe we will make the decision for you."

  "But Megan –"

  "She's not in charge."

  "Who is? Not you, you get the drinks."

  He chuckled. "A man like me is not meant to lead."

  "Why not?"

  "You ask a lot of questions," he said, and I realized that we were walking. He was holding my hand. We were strolling down a hallway. The carpet was red with gold paisleys on it. Dusty oil paintings decorated the cream walls. At the end was a large wooden door with a brass knob. "This is your room," Dimitri said as he opened it.

  He stepped into the space, bringing me with him. It was big. A canopy bed was at the center. The curtains hanging from it were the same powdery violet as dawn. Beyond the bed was a sitting area with a love seat and two upholstered chairs placed around a low coffee table.

  Two windows as big as me framed the bed, curtains the color of golden hay closed against the night. To my right was a dressing table with a round mirror and a cushioned stool facing it. Dimitri let go of me but I could still feel his warmth. "Why are you warm?" I asked.

  "Because I knew you'd like it."

  "How did you know?"

  "I can feel you."

  "Can every vampire feel me like that?"

  "No, the older you get the more..." he paused. "Don't think about that now, Darling. Come." He took my hand again and walked over to the bed. He sat down, pulling me in front of him.

  "Are you going to turn me?" I asked, a small zing of emotion shooting up from my stomach.

  Dimitri laughed softly. "Not now," he assured me.

  "Who are you?"

  "My name is Dimitri."

  "I know that. Where are you from?"

  "Originally? It hardly seems to matter now."

  "How old are you?"

  He smiled. I wanted to touch his face, see his fangs. I wondered if he was making me feel that way or if once again the truth was ringing through me. "Much older than you," he answered.

  "Older than Pearl?"

  He smiled nodding. "Yes, about 800 years older."

  I felt my eyes growing wide in wonder as my palm touched his cheek. It was smooth and cold. Like porcelain but warm. His eyes held mine and for a moment he looked confused. Dimitri's hand came up and grabbed my wrist.

  "What?" I asked, feeling the heat between us grow so that my arm almost felt aflame. I reached out with my other hand but he turned his head away, grabbing hold of my wrist and stopping me. I leaned in toward his lips, feeling drawn to them. Their color alluring, the cruel twitch of his smile enthralling.

  When our lips touched it felt almost like a sting and I snapped away from him, though not far. His pupils grew so that his eyes looked almost black, sparkling with their own strange light. I reached for his lips again. Finding them waiting, searingly hot, I opened my mouth breathing him in.

  Diving my tongue through his teeth I nicked it on his fangs. The taste of blood bloomed. Dimitri twisted, taking me with him, slamming my body onto the bed, his lips never leaving mine. He groaned against me and I felt energy coursing through me. He released my hands and reached between us, ripping my shirt open. Dimitri moved his lips off mine and down my neck. I grabbed his head and pulled his mouth back to mine, sitting up, boring into him. He threw me back and smiled, holding me in place. I can't kill him, I thought, I was happy to think it, to know that I could unleash upon him and he could take it.

  "What-" Dimitri began but he didn't get to finish his thought.

  He was gone in a blur of motion. Suddenly, I was just looking up at the canopy above. I turned toward the sitting area and Dimitri was standing with his arm outstretched. His hand wrapped around Megan's neck. She was suspended in the air, her feet straining toward the carpeted floor. Megan's hands held his forearm but she didn't look like she was struggling to breathe. Which, when I thought about it made sense. Why would a vampire need to breathe?

  I sat up. "Let her go," I said.

  Dimitri looked over at me. His eyes were huge, black depths, fathomless. I felt like I could step into them. His lips were parted, fangs descended.

  "Let her go," I said again, feeling energy coursing through me. It was like when I told Dr. Tor to run. My voice, my breath, taking on a power of its own.

  Dimitri's eyes narrowed, his fangs scraped at his tongue as he licked his lips. "I will taste you," he said to me, dropping Megan. She fell to her knees but immediately stood up, facing him. Dimitri kept his eyes glued on me.

  "She is mine," Megan said, her voice sounding rough.

  His head whipped to her. "You cannot claim your own blood," he said.

  "I just did," Megan answered, stepping close to him, so that their chests touched. Her fangs slowly grew as she looked up at him.

  He shook his head. "You are a fool," he said before stepping away from her. Dimitri walked out of the room, without turning to look at me.

  Megan sat down on the bed next to me. "Are you okay?" she asked, touching the ripped edge of my shirt.

  I looked down at my exposed bra. "Yes," I said. "I was enjoying that, actually."

  "I couldn't let him feed on you," she said.

  "I think... I don't know," I said. "Are you controlling my emotions?"

  "A little."

  "What does it mean that I am yours?" I asked, looking up into her mismatched eyes, concentrating on the familiar one. Avoiding the hungry gaze of the ice blue.

  "I'm the only one who can feed off you. But don't worry, I'm not going to. You're safe."

  "But what about you? What will you eat?"

  "Don't worry about me, Darling," Megan said, smiling a familiar smile. Her fangs were gone. She looked fearless, commanding. Just like she'd always been.

  "I got used to worrying about you," I said.

  Megan frowned. "I'm sorry, but you don't need to anymore. I'll take care of you again. Now, come on," she said, slipping off her shoes. They dropped to the floor with small thunks. Megan climbed up on the bed next to me. "Get under the covers, you need to sleep," she said.

  I slipped off my ripped shirt and removed my bra. Undid the gold shorts and pushed them down, letting them drop off the side of the bed along with my boots. Then I got under the covers and laid my head down on the soft pillow, facing Megan.

  She curled up on her side and we looked into each other's eyes like we always had when we were scared, when either of us needed comfort. "How did you get your parents to let you claim me?" I asked.

  "We struck a deal," she said breaking eye contact, rolling onto her back and looking up at the canopy.

  "Can they control you?"

  "Sort of," she answered.

  "Do you sleep?" I asked.

  "No, but I can lie still with you." Megan was still, I noticed then. It was something else that had changed about her. The wildness that had always surrounded her. The frenetic energy that seemed to come from within her was gone. There was an unnatural stillness about her now. Right, because she wasn't breathing, I thought.

  "I think I'm relieved," I said. "A little."

  "Because I'm alive?" Megan asked, turning her face toward mine.

  "Are you?"

  She turned her gaze back to the canopy. "Sort of."

  "I'm glad to see you," I said. "But I'm also afraid of you. You're not the same."

  "No
, I'm not." Megan looked over at me. "But I still love you, Darling. I think I love you even more."

  "I love you, too," I said.

  She smiled and reached out a hand pushing a strand of my hair off my face. "You're so beautiful," she said, her cool fingers grazing my cheek.

  "I don't think I'm crazy, Megan, that's why I'm relieved. I think my memories of my father are real. It makes sense now."

  "How?" Megan asked, turning her body toward mine again, her eyebrows conferencing.

  "I don't know. Why do you drink blood? Why are your parents vampires? Why are there zombies overrunning the streets?" I laughed. "Then again, maybe I am crazy and none of this is real."

  "It's real, Darling," Megan said, closing her eyes. "It is written," she said.

  "What is?"

  "The rise of the zombies, the fall of the human race," she answered.

  "By who?"

  "God," she said, opening her eyes. They glittered in the dull light of the bedroom.

  "Since when do you believe in God?" I asked, my voice barley a whisper.

  "I'm supposed to be dead. Instead I'm stuck in some kind of limbo. My parents, who never attended church and I thought were long dead, are vampires. Religious vampires. I don't think believing in a higher power is such a leap."

  "Does it hurt?"

  "What?"

  "Being in limbo?"

  "Only if I don't drink blood."

  "Does it taste good?"

  She nodded. "Delicious." Her fangs descended a little. She rolled away from me, looking back at the ceiling.

  "Does it feel good? Like your father said."

  "Yes," she said. "When we take it from a human directly. It feels very good for everyone involved."

  "But you don't kill people."

  "It's not necessary."

  "But..." I said, sensing she had more to say.

  "It feels the best." She licked her lips. "Let's not talk about this. Go to sleep, Darling."

  "Okay," I said, my eyelids heavy, I let them close and felt myself slipping into a deep sleep. I tried to resist it for a moment.

 

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