The Week I Was A Vampire

by Brittney Dussault

  “Healthy curiosity,” Jude covered. “Besides, if Lux were here, she’d be giving you a full blown interrogation.”

  Jemima frowned, as if unfamiliar with Lux, before she licked her lips and smiled.

  “Your purple haired witch,” Jemima said. “I remember her. Thought about taking a bite out of her, but witches aren’t always flavorful. You, on the other hand, were rather delicious.”

  “Okay,” Jude said a little too loudly. “That concludes the part of the evening where you talk about me as if I were a steak. Please, come in and find something you deem appropriate for me to wear so we can get going. The sooner we leave, the sooner this little date can be over and I get can back to my life.”

  “Some life,” Jemima said as she stepped into the foyer, giving it only a passing glance before heading up the stairs. “And for the record,” she called down to Jude, “this isn’t a date. You’re not my type.”

  Jude followed, directing Jemima to her room, but the blonde vampire seemed interested in something else. That’s when Jude saw Simon, standing shirtless just inside the bathroom door. He hadn’t noticed the girls yet, but Jude recognized the look on Jemima’s face and moved to stand in front of the vampire, blocking Simon from her sight.

  “Hands off,” Jude said. “When Mafe told you to behave, I don’t think she meant for you to turn my brother into a snack.”

  Jemima growled low in her throat before turning on her heel and stalking down the hall towards Jude’s room.

  “If he were more attractive,” she said, entering the bedroom, “I’d be tempted. As it is, he’d be nothing more than a plaything.” She flung open the door to Jude’s closet and looked revolted as she peered inside.

  Jude shut the bedroom door and leaned against it, a glare firmly in place when Jemima emerged from her closet.

  “What’s your problem?” the vampire said before tossing a set of clothes on the bed. “Change.”

  Jude pushed herself away from the door and stalked forward, coming to a halt when she was toe to toe with Jemima.

  “That’s my brother,” Jude said, “not some toy for you to play with. I was wondering why no one likes you and I get it now; you have no humanity in you. You’re just a spoiled rotten child who never grew up.”

  The backhand Jemima delivered to Jude’s face sent her head snapping to the side and her body followed. Looking up from her new position on the ground, she saw Jemima’s eyes had turned solid black. A brief tremor of fear ran down her spine until she realized Jemima couldn’t hurt her anymore. Or, at least she couldn’t drain her.

  “You’re lucky you’re in transition,” Jemima hissed, “and you’re lucky Mafe told me to behave. But make no mistake, little girl, you speak to me like that again and I’ll be wearing your teeth as a necklace. Now get dressed.”

  Jude rose from the ground and quickly traded out her skirt and blazer for the black jeans and long sleeved shirt Jemima had pulled from her closet.

  “No need for a coat,” Jemima said when Jude tried to pull her jacket on. “You don’t need it and we’re not going to be out in public. Much.” She lead the way out of the house and onto the street, Jude following because she didn’t have a choice.

  “Could we go to Grigori’s?” Jude asked.

  Jemima didn’t break her stride as she spun about to look at Jude, staring at her blankly before turning back around.

  “Why you want to bother yourself with that decrepit old man is beyond me.”

  “Maybe he has a potion or something to help curb the cravings.”

  Jemima came to a dead halt that was so abrupt, Jude had to awkwardly stumble around her to avoid crashing into her. Granted, the vampire probably would’ve remained unmoved. Jude had a feeling it would take a great deal of strength to knock the blonde vampire to the ground.

  “First off,” Jemima said, “there isn’t a potion in the world that can change what’s in your nature. Or if there is, a backwoods warlock with a watered down bloodline isn’t going to be able to help you.”

  When Jemima remained quiet for an extended moment, Jude spoke up.

  “And secondly?” She regretted asking immediately as a grin that would’ve made the Cheshire cat proud spread across Jemima’s face. It was the same blood chilling smile she’d given Jude right before she’d attacked her.

  “Cravings, huh?” Jemima said, her tone conversational, but there was an underlying current that had Jude wondering if she was about to be dragged straight to hell.

  Without another word, Jemima resumed her brisk pace leaving Jude to scurry after her.

  “Where are we going?” Jude asked as they hurried down the street. Jemima’s blonde hair was billowing behind her as she took clipped, hurried steps as if she were in a great rush to get somewhere.

  “I’m going to show you how a vampire feeds,” Jemima said and then glanced behind her to see Jude’s shellshocked face. “Relax, you’re not going to be feeding. I just want to show you how it’s done.”

  “But can’t vampires drink from blood bags?” Jude said. “Or animals?”

  “Humans today,” Jemima muttered before slowing until she was walking at Jude’s side. “To acquire blood bags, you’re required to steal, which is fine when you’re a vampire. But let’s play on your conscience a bit and wonder what would happen if a hospital needed those blood bags? What if someone was in desperate need of the blood you stole?”

  Jude grimaced and bowed her head, shoving her hands into her pockets.

  “As for animals,” Jemima said, “I’m sure you could live on a vegetarian diet, but there’s the fur and feathers you have to contend with, coupled with the fact you can’t... what do you call it? Persuasion? Yes, you can’t persuade an animal.”

  “So you feed on involuntary humans and make them forget,” Jude snapped, but Jemima was unaffected by her tone and directed her down another street. At the end of the block, a woman was loading a pair of suitcases into a car.

  “Would you rather they remember?” Jemima asked before quickening her pace. Calling back over her shoulder she said, “Wouldn’t you rather forget?”

  Jude remembered her fear at seeing Jemima with black eyes and fangs, but she also recalled the strange acceptance that had settled over her. She had known she was going to die and, not dissimilar from Mafe, she’d been accepting of the fact.

  “Leave her alone, Jemima,” Jude said seconds before she found herself stopping to watch Jemima strike up a casual conversation with the woman. Jude knew the second Jemima had used her persuasion as the woman’s eyes turned glossy and vacant.

  Looking over her shoulder, Jemima gestured for Jude to follow her as she lead the dazed woman into the dead end alley separating an apartment complex and a closed bookstore.

  “The first thing you tell them,” Jemima said, “is to be quiet. Then, you tell them to stay calm and follow you. Tell them to trust you.” She positioned the woman against the wall, as if she were a doll and not a human. She looked at Jude and flashed her a wicked smirk before turning back to the vacant woman.

  “Now darling,” she purred in a calm voice that sounded vaguely like Daniel’s, but more sinister, “give me your neck.”

  Jude watched the woman stoop to accommodate the height of the shorter vampire before tilting her neck to the side, giving Jemima full access.

  “Now relax.”

  With a strange sense of awe, Jude watched the woman’s face transform into a picture of bliss as Jemima’s face turned dark before she sank her fangs into the exposed neck. The scent of blood filled the alleyway and Jude felt her own canines elongating, pulsing with the desire to have a taste. She kept her attention on the woman’s face, though, watching for even the slightest hint of discomfort, but the persuasion seemed to have erased any free will the woman had. It wasn’t long though, before the woman’s eyes began to droop and no glamour or persuasion in the world could hide the truth from Jude: Jemima was killing this woman.

  “Jemima, stop!” Jude said, taking a step forward
and regretting her decision as the smell of blood grew stronger.

  Jemima pulled away from the woman’s neck long enough to smile at Jude, her mouth smeared with blood.

  “You’re going to kill her,” Jude said and watched the blonde vampire cock her head to the side as if confused.

  “Accidents happen, Jude,” she said. “Don’t you want to know what we do when there are accidents? Aren’t you curious to see what I was planning on doing with your body?”

  The answer was yes and judging by the smug look on Jemima’s face, the vampire knew it.

  “No,” Jude said firmly. “Not like this. I don’t need to learn like this.”

  “Oh, but I think you do.” Jemima latched onto the woman’s neck again, tearing into it with enough force to break through the persuasion and make the woman cry out.

  “Enough!” Jude shouted and with a strength she didn’t know she possessed, she charged Jemima and ripped the vampire away from the woman before slamming her into the brick wall.

  Stunned, Jemima took a moment to orient herself before her bloodlust quickly morphed into rage. Jude had only a second to throw her arms up and shield herself before Jemima lunged, but the impact never came and Jude opened her eyes to see a flash of red before Jemima skidded across the ground, coming to a halt against the far wall of the alley.

  “Go home, Jemima,” the woman growled. “I’ll deal with you later.”

  Jemima looked around the woman to sneer at Jude.

  “Your ship is sunk like the Titanic,” she spat. “I should know, I was there.” She gave the bleeding woman a brief glance before disappearing from sight. Jude was left alone with the injured woman and a vampire who, when she turned, possessed a beauty almost on par with Tess’.

  Red hair fell to her waist in waves that stood in stark contrast to the crisp white pantsuit that matched her skin almost flawlessly. She was older than Mafe, that much Jude could tell, but her sweetheart face was youthful and her brown eyes glowed in the dark. Stripping away the glamour, though, Jude was left with the brief image of a frail girl with limp hair and lifeless eyes.

  “Daphine Valois,” Jude said and the vampire nodded.

  “You must be Jude Carstairs,” she said, a faint French accent detectable. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Please, call me Daphne.”

  Jude nodded her consent and moved out of the way as Daphne stepped towards the bleeding woman. She knelt on the ground, unconcerned about ruining her white suit, and Jude watched her bite into her own wrist and feed her blood to the woman.

  “Are you going to turn her?” Jude said and Daphne shook her head.

  “The blood will heal her,” Daphne said, “and then pass out of her system. You, my dear, had the misfortune of dying before the blood left you. Although, had you died without the blood in your system, I imagine there would be a few heartbroken people in the world.”

  Jude helped Daphne get the woman on her feet and watched the redheaded vampire persuade the woman to forget what had happened. She staggered down the alleyway, her footing becoming surer as she neared the street, before she returned to what she’d been doing before Jemima had fed from her.

  “Come,” Daphne said, stepping from the alley. “Let me walk you home.”

  •§•

  The pair walked in silence for a while, Jude’s mind churning about a plethora of questions her mouth refused to speak. Daphne seemed to know, though, the way everyone seemed to know what Jude was thinking. Was she that transparent?

  “That was good of you,” Daphne said and, at Jude’s confused expression, elaborated. “You did not have to save that woman.”

  “You saved her,” Jude said, but Daphne disagreed.

  “You’re in transition and you went up against a vampire who is two hundred years old,” she said. “The fact you managed to pry her away from the woman is impressive in itself. You did save that woman, Jude. Do not think so little of yourself.”

  “Kind of hard to change a lifelong habit,” Jude muttered as she turned down her street. Beside her, Daphne chuckled, her laughter light and airy.

  “I know how that is,” Daphne said. “Then again, it is easy to think little of yourself when you spend your whole life in a sickbed.”

  “Mafe told me,” Jude said and Daphne smiled knowingly.

  “Jemima was the same,” she said.

  Jude stopped and stared at her, brows furrowing as she tried to imagine Jemima confined to a sickbed.

  “Maybe not the same,” Daphne said, “but she did fall ill when she was young and never fully recovered. When I met her, she was dying, and while no one else knew it, she and I did.”

  “How?” said Jude and Daphne shrugged, a gesture that seemed out of place when compared to her sophisticated air. Her lithe build left her shoulders sharp, which made the movement seem jerky.

  “Vampires can tell when someone is dying,” she said. “It’s the smell of decay in their body. And Jemima, well, wouldn’t you know if you were dying?”

  Yes,Jude thought. I knew I was dying the night Jemima almost killed me.

  Aloud she said, “So that’s why you saved her, even though she was so young?”

  Daphne nodded.

  “She was young, yes,” she said, “but when I looked at her, I saw something of myself and could not let her die. Make no mistake though, she wanted this life. She asked me to turn her into a vampire and while her immortal existence has been difficult, I do love my child.”

  “But she’s so mean,” Jude said and quickly regretted her words as a dark look flashed across Daphne’s kind face.

  “She was turned young,” she said. “Most humans who are made vampires at a young age do not last long. They have a hard time adjusting to a changing world where they are forever children. The fact Jemima has lived this long without taking her own life is an accomplishment. She has no friends her human age and the older, male vampires do not wish to consort with someone who looks so young. It is difficult for appearances when we go out.”

  Daphne began walking again and Jude followed, trying to reconcile the cruel Jemima she knew with the lonely girl Daphne spoke of. It was difficult, but she supposed with time she could learn to see the girl hidden beneath Jemima’s glamour that was turning out to be both physical and emotional.

  “You remind me of someone,” Daphne said, jarring Jude from her thoughts. “A human Daniel once knew. Elaine was her name. You’re quiet and thoughtful like her, but I think maybe you are braver.”

  “What happened to her?” Jude asked and Daphne sighed.

  “What happens to all humans, eventually,” the vampire said. “She died, but fortunately, she died in her bed, surrounded by her children and grandchildren. She lived a full life and was happy. Some people do not get that.”

  “Like Daniel?” Jude blurted out before her brain could make her mouth shut up.

  Daphne stopped in front of the Carstairs house and stared down at Jude.

  “The next time you see Daniel,” she said, “ask him about Elaine. It is not my story to tell, but it is one I think you should hear.”

  “Alright,” Jude said and Daphne nodded her head.

  “À bientôt, Judith,” she said and continued to walk down the street.

  Jude remained rooted to her spot for a moment before turning to walk up to her house, only she stopped when Daphne called back to her.

  “When you see Daniel,” she said, “please tell him he is my biggest regret.” She disappeared before Jude could say anything, leaving the transitioning girl standing in front of her house with a puzzled look on her face.

  Her biggest regret?Jude thought as she slipped inside and locked the door. As she climbed the stairs, she could hear Simon’s music blaring from his room and slipped inside her own room with a smile.

  No,she decided,I’m not going to tell Daniel that.

  Friday Afternoon

  The Pact

  “You missed it,” Lux said as she breezed into Jude’s room with a flourish, bright pink tutu flar
ing out as she pirouetted her way to the the bed and promptly fell on it. Jude, still snuggled beneath her blankets, looked at her friend with a grimace.

  “Sleeping,” Jude said, but Lux ignored her and poked her friend in the side.

  “You’re turning into Simon,” Lux said. “I wonder what he’d be like as a vampire. I mean, he’s kind of already nocturnal, so do you think something weird would happen and he’d be the only vampire who could be up and about during the day? I think that’d be kind of awesome.”

  “I guess we’ll never know,” Jude said and sat up, knowing she’d never get back to sleep if Lux were here. “So what did I miss?”

  Lux launched from the bed with a squeal at Jude’s reminder, but quickly apologized for screaming when Jude flinched at the harsh sound.

  “You may be the only vampire who’ll need earplugs,” Lux said before explaining what she was so excited about. “The nominees for prom queen were announced today!”

  Jude was instantly awake and just as excited as Lux, who produced a small flyer and handed it to her. The pink paper was garish and covered in glitter and crown stickers, but Jude overlooked the tackiness as she scanned the list of nominees, finding two names at the bottom of the list that made her smile.

  “Lux Reading and Judith Carstairs!” Lux cheered, jumping on Jude’s bed for a moment before pulling her vampire friend up to join her. The pair danced, shrieking in joy and talking loudly about dresses and accessories before Lux’s heart rate reached a level Jude couldn’t handle and she quickly dropped back onto the bed and scooted away from Lux.

  “Sorry,” Jude said as realization dawned on Lux’s face. “I’m getting pretty good at ignoring the sound and smell. Oddly enough, the way someone smells actually helps. Like Simon, who smells revolting unless he showers and you’re usually wearing a half dozen different scents since your shampoo, perfume, and whatnot aren’t similar. It gives me something to focus on other than the, you know.”

  “Yeah,” Lux said, dropping back onto the bed as well. “And don’t apologize, because it’s not your fault. It’s Jemima’s. Speaking of which, I got your text. How was date night with the she-devil?”