Crimson Kiss

by Trisha Baker

  She didn't try to shush him or tell him everything was OK, the way Darlene did when she comforted him after the dream. She just held him close and stroked his hair, like he was a small child.

  When the worst of the crying abated, he forced himself to look at her. Maggie didn't seem upset or uncomfortable with his outburst. She just looked concerned.

  "I'm sorry," he muttered.

  "Don't apologize."

  Jimmy waited for her to ask who Jay was, or what the nightmare was about, but she didn't. She left the room, returning with a cold washcloth and a glass of ice water.

  While she was putting the cloth on his forehead, he pulled her close and kissed her. On impulse, he said, "I'm falling in love with you." Idiot! he berated himself. First he cried like a baby and now he was telling her he was in love after knowing her for one day. She was going to think he was a mental case.

  At least she wasn't running for the phone. She seemed touched by what he said, but there was a very distant look in her eyes. "That's very sweet, Jimmy."

  "Look, I know it sounds nuts. But I feel good when I'm around you, and let me tell you, it's been a hell of a long time since I felt good about anything. Why do you think I drink like a fish? I want to be with you, Maggie. And I don't mean as some guy you have a few drinks with and lay."

  Maggie started to say something, but he pressed on. "Don't worry—you don't have to give me any 'let's just be friends' routine." He took a deep breath. To hell with it—he was going to tell her everything. "But I can't get serious about any girl without telling her the truth about me. Believe me, once you're done listening to my story, you'll have a great excuse to get rid of me. You'll think I'm crazy."

  "I doubt that," Maggie responded. "I've seen lots of crazy things in my life. And I don't want to get rid of you. But, Jimmy, I don't get 'serious' with any guys. I have some reasons why I can't let anyone close."

  "I know. You act like you have some deep, dark secret; maybe that's why I feel I can trust you. But let me tell you my secret first, OK? Then, if you still want anything to do with me, you can tell me anything you want."

  Maggie nodded, and sat next to him on the couch. She took a pack of cigarettes out of a crystal bowl on the table and lit two, passing one to Jimmy.

  "What did you want to tell me?" Maggie asked.

  Jimmy looked away from her, out the window. "I used to be married," he said in a tight voice, trying not to cry again. "And I had a son. His name was James, after me. We called him Jay. He was three when he died."

  Maggie offered him her hand, and he squeezed tightly.

  "I got married when I was seventeen. Amy, my wife, was sixteen. Same old story—sex in the backseat and the next thing you know, she's pregnant. Amy was very religious, didn't believe in abortion. So we both dropped out of high school, her to take care of the baby and me to work in a factory where my sister was a supervisor. I wasn't happy. I liked school and I wanted to go to college. And Amy—well, she was sweet but really dumb. I could never talk to her about books or music or the news or anything." Jimmy sighed. "I figured I'd make the best of it. I had a good job with benefits, and our parents chipped in to buy us a small house. Then Jay was born."

  Jimmy ground out the cigarette and started crying again—harsh, rasping sobs. He grabbed Maggie. "I loved him so much." He sobbed against her breasts. "Maggie, the first time I saw him, I couldn't believe he was mine. He was beautiful; I loved him. I promised that I'd be a great dad to him. I'd go back to school so I could get a better job and he'd have everything he needed. I wanted him to be proud of me."

  Jimmy took a shaky breath. "So I got my GED and I went to community college at night. And I wound up killing Jay by doing that." He liked that Maggie wasn't interrupting him with a bunch of questions. She'd probably make a good therapist. "I told you our parents bought us a house. What I didn't tell you was that it was really isolated. Our nearest neighbors were a mile away. So there was no one there to help Amy when… when…" He started hyperventilating.

  Maggie put his head between his knees and placed her hand on the back of his neck. "Calm down, honey."

  He could swear he felt some warmth from her hand spread throughout his body and calm him down. In a few minutes, he was able to start talking again.

  "I came home around midnight. My last class ended at ten, and it took me an hour and a half to get home. I noticed that our front door was hanging off its hinges, like there had just been a storm or someone tore it off. The first thing I thought was burglars. But why would they bother with a cheap little house like mine? Then I got really scared. I thought of serial killers, psychotics. I had a gun in the glove box. I got it out and went into the house."

  Jimmy stopped again. "Could I have a drink? I know you probably think I have a problem. Maybe I do, but I can't get through this without one."

  Maggie brought over a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Jimmy took two double shots before resuming his story. "The light in the living room was off. I was scared to turn it on, thought then they would know I was in the house. Then I heard… I don't know how to describe it, a tearing noise. Like someone eating. It came from Jay's room. So I ran there really quick and threw on the light."

  Jimmy shuddered violently. "Maggie, there's no way I can describe what I saw. Jay was on the floor, white as a fucking ghost with two gashes on his neck. I knew he was dead the second I saw him; his eyes were wide open. And there was this… thing in the room."

  Maggie's reaction so far was not what he expected. She seemed very resigned and bitter. "Aren't you going to ask me about the thing?"

  "Just tell me what you saw," she said in a flat tone.

  Jimmy was perplexed—even the doctors hadn't been that detached when he told them the story. "It was a vampire." Her expression didn't change, so he elaborated. "I've never seen anything like it. Two huge, hooked fangs were sticking out of its mouth; it was monstrous-looking. If you think vampires are like those good-looking guys in all the movies, think again. This thing was hideous. It had ugly veins all over it, and its eyes were pink, like an albino's. Not that I had a lot of time to stare at it. It was holding Amy." Jimmy's lips trembled, and he banged his fist down on the table. "And that's another thing… It wasn't like she was in some cute nightie with two little pinpricks on her neck. Maggie, this thing mauled her. Her head was barely attached to her shoulders, and her wrists were slashed up to her elbows. That wasn't it either. Her breasts were ripped off, and there were slashes on her thighs. When it saw me, it dropped Amy and ran at me. I didn't have any time to think; I just started shooting. I got it four times, I think, in the chest and it went down."

  Maggie frowned. "You shot it with the Magnum?"

  "Yeah."

  That seemed to satisfy her. "I went to Amy and Jay. They were dead. So I ran out of the house and went to get the cops."

  "And when you came back, the vampire was gone."

  "How the hell did you know that?" Maggie didn't answer, so he continued. "They locked me up—thought I must have done it. But then the coroner's report proved that Jay died at least sixty minutes before I could have gotten home; lots of people saw me at school that night."

  "So they let you go?" Maggie asked.

  Jimmy laughed harshly. "Hell, no. I insisted on telling the truth. So I told them a vampire ripped my family apart, and before you can say committed, I was in an institution. The doctors convinced Darlene, my twin sister, to sign the papers."

  "How long were you there?"

  "Two years. But aside from my story, there was nothing else wrong with me. And there were a lot of people crazier than me in the world, with too few beds in the madhouse. It wasn't like my family could afford private care, so they released me. The doctors convinced my family that the whole problem was that I had seen something very traumatic, maybe the real murderer raping Amy, so I blocked it all out with this delusion of a vampire. They all expect that one day I'm going to wake up and tell them who the real killer is."

  "You know who the r
eal killer is," Maggie said softly.

  Jimmy looked at her; there was no denial or shock in her expression. "So you believe me?"

  She nodded.

  "Why? Why don't you seem surprised or upset? No one believes in vampires. If I tell you Santa comes down my chimney every Christmas, will you believe that too?"

  Maggie got up, and touched the portrait of her dead ancestor. She turned around and smiled crookedly. "Shall I tell you my birthday?"

  He was dumbfounded.

  She laughed, almost a mirror of the harsh sound he had made a few minutes ago. "Don't worry, Jimmy. It's not that I believe you because I'm crazy and I don't know any better." She stared into his eyes, and told him quite matter-of-factly, "I was born on July 3,1925."

  For a minute, he didn't understand what she was telling him. Then it hit and he screamed, "No! You're fucking nuts!"

  Maggie raised one red-gold eyebrow. "I accepted what you told me. Why can't you do the same?"

  "You are not a vampire," he said through clenched teeth. "Are you forgetting I saw one? You look nothing like that. The story grabbed some headlines, you know. I got a bunch of letters from crackpots like you… stupid kids who think vampires are gothic, exciting things. I know your type." Jimmy took his glass and shattered it on the wood coffee table. He used one of the shards to slash his forearm. A thin trickle of blood soon appeared.

  He held it out to Maggie. "You're a vampire? Come on, let's see your fangs—suck it down!"

  She looked repulsed—and concerned for his state of mind. "I don't want your blood!"

  Jimmy moved closer. "Sure you do—if you're a bloodsucker. Why aren't you leaping on my arm—salivating at the sight of fresh blood?"

  Maggie laughed. "Jimmy, I do have a bit more restraint than that. But if you want proof, I can provide it without injuring you."

  Maggie moved quickly and grabbed his arm. She dragged him upstairs, with him yelling, "OK, so you're strong—big deal! That doesn't make you…"

  She stopped in front of the medicine cabinet mirror. He saw his own reflection, but Maggie… He could not believe it. He could feel her iron hold on his arm, was looking right at her, but there was only a very hazy outline of her in the mirror.

  She let go and he sank to the floor. "Now do you believe me?"

  "It's a trick mirror," he said weakly.

  She glanced at it, and it cracked. "Is that a trick?"

  "Probably." He refused to accept this.

  She grabbed him again and took him outside to his car. He tried to get away, but she had a firm hold on him. They stopped in front of the driver's side mirror on his car. She leaned down in front of it, forcing him to see the same evil image he'd seen upstairs.

  She let him go and started walking back toward the house. "Wait!" he yelled.

  Maggie turned around, expressionless. "Yes?"

  "You can't just walk away!" Anger was overpowering fear and common sense. He took out his gun, the Magnum he was never without at night. "I'll make you pay… You're just like that thing that killed my son!"

  Maggie eyed the gun and laughed bitterly. "Put it away, Jimmy. You can't kill a vampire at night."

  "We'll see what I can do—" He choked off when Maggie reached over and yanked the gun from him. He tried to wrap his hands around her neck, but she pushed him away like an annoying fly. He flew into the street, and she was standing over him in a split second.

  He tried to shrink away, but all she did was pull him up. Then she sat on the front steps of her house. "Mortals are powerless against vampires at night, Jimmy. Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you. Just get in your car and forget about me."

  "Just like that?" he said incredulously. "Just pick up and forget I've met"—he made a disgusted face—"and screwed a vampire!"

  "You forgot about the other one," she pointed out.

  "No, I didn't!" he screamed. "Why do you think I drink? I can't stand the dark anymore… knowing evil things like you are outside! The only way I get through the night is by getting so drunk I can barely think." He stopped and glared at her… at her beauty. "But I thought you were deformed! Why are you so goddamned pretty?"

  "There are different types of vampires."

  Jimmy rolled his eyes to the heavens. "Well, isn't that just great! I don't just have to be on the lookout for that monstrosity that killed Jay. Oh, no! Now anyone I meet at night could be one of you."

  "You don't have to worry about your son's killer."

  "How the hell do you know?"

  "Because I killed it… about a month after it attacked your family."

  Jimmy inched closer to her. "You killed your own kind?"

  "That thing was not my own kind!" Her eyes flared in anger. "It was a lunatic, deranged… That happens sometimes. Transformation doesn't always work, and you wind up out of your mind, with no thought but getting blood."

  "How did you find it?"

  "You said it yourself… Your case received media interest. I read the papers and I monitor police files for cases that could have to do with vampires. I'm not the only one; other vampires also abhor reckless slaughter of human beings. So when we find something like… that thing, we put it down like a rabid dog."

  He glared into her green eyes, and she stared back calmly. He didn't know why, but he believed her. Still, maybe she was making him believe her.

  He glowered suspiciously. "I guess you can read my mind?"

  "I can, but I won't. I've had it done to me, and I think it's a shocking invasion of privacy."

  Jimmy couldn't accept that she was a vampire—no matter what she showed him. She was still the same pretty, strange girl who picked him up in a seedy bar. Where were the fangs and that hideous appearance? "Are you going to hurt me?"

  Maggie smiled sadly. "I don't hurt people, Jimmy. I like you; I don't want to violate you."

  "I like you too," he blurted out.

  There—she finally looked surprised. "How can you? I'm a vampire."

  "You're not like that tiling that killed Jay." He asked her the question that was needling him. "Have you ever killed anyone?"

  Maggie looked down at her shoes and sighed. "Jimmy, when I first became a vampire, I was transformed by a very evil man. And he taught me to kill people; I won't lie to you. A lot of people died before I was fortunate enough to meet my mentor, Alcuin. He taught me that I didn't have to kill people to survive. And since the night I met him, I haven't killed anyone."

  Maggie got up and kissed him on the cheek. "I do like you, but I'm sure now you understand why we can't be involved. Godspeed, Jimmy Delacroix." She turned around, heading back into the house.

  Jimmy didn't question what he was doing; he just thought he didn't want to stop seeing Maggie. "Hey, Cinderella!"

  She turned around.

  He grinned. "What time do you turn into a pumpkin, Vampirella?"

  She grinned back, a bit uncertainly. "Around six-thirty. Why?"

  "What do you say we take a ride upstate? I want you to meet my sister, Darlene." He smiled wider at Maggie's astonishment. "She'll be thrilled that I have a girlfriend."

  "Girlfriend?" Maggie questioned.

  "I said I thought I was falling in love with you. Why can't we see where this goes? Come on, take a ride with me."

  Jimmy Delacroix never knew how close she came to walking over and forcibly wiping his memory clear of any thoughts of her. But then she thought it wasn't like she'd told him about vampires. He already knew they existed, and had had his family destroyed by them. And she was so damn tired of having no real attachments. She hadn't seen Alcuin in years, and she only saw Charles a few times a year. Why shouldn't she have a friend?

  Maggie grinned, and his throat closed up. Jimmy thought she was so much prettier when she smiled and that mourning expression left her eyes. What had she seen to make her look so sad and wistful most of the time? I'll make you smile all the time if you let me, he thought to himself.

  She eyed his beat-up Dodge in distaste. "Perhaps we could take my car?"
<
br />   Jimmy's eyes lit up. "The Caddie? Please let me drive," he begged, and she laughed. "Besides, the house is hard to find. I should drive."

  Maggie went into the house and came back with her car keys. "You don't have to beg, Jimmy. I've seen you coveting my car."

  They got in, and Jimmy was in heaven. He loved classic cars; he used to have a model of the 1958 Cadillac convertible. Too bad it was February; he'd love to put the top down.

  They drove in silence for a while, and then he decided to find out more about her. "You said you don't read people because someone did it to you, right?"

  "The man who made me a vampire," she replied. "He reached into my mind whenever he felt like it. You don't want to know what it's like to feel that your innermost thoughts are on display. I think I hated him for that as much as anything else… He didn't even have the common decency to leave my mind alone."

  "What was his name?"

  She grimaced and replied in a cold, tight voice, "Simon Baldevar."

  "Shit!" Jimmy exclaimed. "What the hell did this guy do to you? You sound like you're choking just by saying his name."

  "I don't like to think of him," she told Jimmy, and lit a cigarette. "So please—ask your questions and then I'm never discussing him or my early days as a vampire again. Understand?"

  "Uh, sure," he replied, disconcerted by her harsh tone and shaking hands. "Where is… uh, Simon? Where is he now?"

  "Dead. Thank God."

  "Who killed him?"

  Maggie smiled—it was a bitter, vengeful smile. "Me." She nodded at Jimmy's astonished look. "I told you that I met someone who helped me. Well, Simon didn't want me to leave… So I killed him."

  "Don't worry, Maggie. You tell me we're through and I won't give you a hard time."

  Maggie laughed—it sounded more like amusement than that harsh, cynical sound before. "It was a little more complicated than that. You see, I told him we were through and he threw me in a tub of scalding water, bled me, and left me on a rooftop exposed to the sun until I begged his forgiveness."