by Various
The darkness receded. I saw my mother dead in the pink bathwater again, then the candy wrappers by the couch, the neighbor’s dead dog, Rory on the balcony speaking to me when I was nine. A flood of memories came to me, the likes of which I realized he’d stolen for years before the night he turned me. We’d both stood on those apartment balconies, me a child, him a full-fledged vampire, stalking me until I grew old enough to claim. There we spoke of many things, of life and love. He knew everything about me and each night before I left him there, he kissed his fingers, leaned over the railing, and touched them to my face.
“Oh.” It was all I managed to say. He had been there through it all since my ninth year. As creepy as it seemed, it was also affirming. Maybe all he said about us was right. Maybe my need to remember didn’t mean anything. I nestled against him. He held me and the water rushed past us. I remembered one more thing. Light flickering across a handsome, youthful face with blue eyes and lips I longed to touch. I couldn’t remember his name.
“That’s enough for one night,” Rory said.
And I nodded my assent. I agreed like the fool I had become.
Chapter Six
Asylum
At the corner of Fourth and Parliament, Rory and I stood outside the asylum. He visited it often, for he still craved the blood of those touched in the head. I never could understand what he tasted in them, but he often reminded me that I’d never tried it. Like a father attempting to get a child to eat Brussels sprouts, he continued to bring me there in the hopes I would attain his acquired taste. We entered by a side door, one often used by the janitorial staff. Rory could turn the lock with his mind and did so with an ease I was in awe of.
“You’ll learn it too one day, little angel,” he said. “You’ll learn all my secrets.” His usually hungry smile faded. His eyes sparkled with a deep purple hue. He turned away before I could question him.
Following my mentor inside, I sensed the heavy melancholy and insanity in the air. Auras showed themselves to me now, their colors mesmerizing, alluring and a thing of beauty to behold and question. The first time it happened I thought I had imagined it, but Rory simply elbowed me and tugged me along. I paused at a door to peer through the square glass at the patient within. Sitting in the corner of the room, she rocked back and forth, her aura a bright green with swirls of silver.
“Come along,” Rory chided. “I want the one in the back tonight. He licked his lips, flashing his devil’s grin of greed. We hurried our pace, passing moaning people and mumblers. With this particular prey, Rory had been biding his time. The doctors had changed this man’s meds a few times in the quest to stabilize him, but nothing seemed to work. At present, he lay on his bed in a straitjacket, straps holding him in place while he yowled at the ceiling.
The walls in his room muffled his cries while my mentor turned the lock with his mind and opened the door without touching it. I remained in the hall to watch the feast.
“Typhoid, Marlington, sherbet, weekly magazines,” the patient blathered. He let out a mournful yowl. His head turned toward Rory, a shadowy creature of the night with eyes dancing in rainbow colors.
I held my breath.
The two stared each other down.
“Let me out,” the restrained patient said, his voice commanding. “Take me with you. Make me one of you. I’ve seen your kind before.”
Rory chuckled before placing his hand on the man’s forehead. “Have you? And where was that? On the horror channel late at night?”
“Egypt.”
The one word answer silenced Rory. His smile faded, and his eyes darkened. He patted the man’s head and knelt to taste.
“What did you see in Egypt?” I whispered, more to myself than either of them.
“Karada.”
Rory stood, took a step back and dropped his arms to his sides. He narrowed his cold eyes on me. “Be silent. He’s mad is all it is. Mad as they all are.”
I leaned on the wall outside the room. Rory returned to his victim, covered the man’s eyes with one hand, and knelt to drink. He sucked voraciously, making loud slurping sounds. It was not his usual way, so I pondered why he wanted to end this man so fast. His savoring did not happen this time.
After he sealed the wound, we rushed out. Again, an out of character move on his part. I flew behind him, my wings not as powerful as his.
When we alighted on the roof of his mansion, Rory took hold of my wrist, his eyes glittering blue. “I want you,” he purred, dragging me to him. Fingers curled into one of my feathered wings as he pushed me to the ground. He tore away the makeshift tank top I wore on nights when we hunted, shredding the fabric with elongated claws. He shifted into something frightful. I should have feared him, but over time I had seen hints of it before. Passion changes what we are and reveals the true shape within. Rory appeared monstrous, jagged horns growing from his temples, eyes narrowing and inking black. He struggled with my jeans before he ruined them by ripping them at the seams.
My guardian, my lover was angered, not by me, I know that. He sought our coupling to ease whatever had set him off. I lay there awaiting his dominance, a little thrilled at the bestiality of our impending mating. His pants dropped to his feet. A proud erection stood up. I reached to touch it, velvety soft and rigid beneath.
He kissed me hard and wedged his body atop mine. His shift brought more weight crushing down on my small frame. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, not in a way that did permanent damage, but a trickle of fear began in my middle. The man he fed from changed him.
He entered me, a painful thrust invading my body. I curled my legs around his and hoped this would end soon. This was not my guardian who cherished me and loved me. This thing was the parasite living within him. The creature took my wrists, pinning them above my head. I closed my eyes, unwilling to look on it as it pounded away at my body seeking a release that wouldn’t come.
Droplets of sweat, scented like rancid blood, dripped down on me. He growled and groaned his frustration. Fangs sank into my neck. I gritted my teeth to keep from screaming. He rocked with more force, battering me. I went numb and whispered a prayer for it to end.
“Rory ...” I pleaded.
He stopped, still buried deep inside me. His weight kept me breathing in shallow gasps. His mouth dragged blood from my veins.
“What did that man do to you?”
His voice came out in a wordless gurgle.
“Rory, you’re hurting me,” I said.
He pulled back and sat on his haunches, staring out at the sky. He looked worse now, shaggy clumps of reddish hair covering his shoulders and chest. His horns curled and curved at either side of his head, ghastly and hideous.
His black eyes narrowed more, something I thought impossible.
I curled my knees up and sat where I was. “What’s happened to you?”
He shook his head.
I swallowed, fear rising in me.
He raised his hand to his face to examine his claws. No glittering lights danced in his pupils anymore. They’d gone a single shade and didn’t show signs of returning to what they once were. He opened his mouth to speak, but only garbled grunts came out.
“Tell me with your mind,” I urged, hopeful he still could.
“You are what you eat.” He grinned with a mouthful of dagger-sharp teeth.
I smiled despite the sadness of it.
We stared at each other, monster and vampire, until I asked, “How long will you remain like this?”
He lowered his clawed hands to the tiles and crawled toward me. Click-scratch, click-scratch. Maybe he wanted to try to mate again, but somehow, I doubted it. The expression on his face echoed hunger, ravenous and unstoppable. A gnarled tail flitted behind him. He raised his wings, tattered now and shabby as if they’d fall off at any moment.
“Rory?” My voice came as a squeak in my throat. My guardian had changed into what, I wasn’t sure. And though I didn’t know Rory well after all the time we’d spent together, I knew this thing was not
him.
It leapt and pinned me beneath it. I couldn’t breathe or scream. Its mouth opened and lunged for my neck. Teeth pierced my skin. At any moment, I knew the beast would rip out my throat and I would die.
Death. I thought I wanted that.
The clouds in my mind vanished. I drifted into a place of semi-awareness. I knew I would die now. I had to die. This thing was stronger than me. In what way could I escape it?
Memories washed over me as they had the night by the river. Mom in the bathwater, dead and beautiful in her own way. Riding the public bus. Schoolbooks. A movie about the Holocaust. Lights flickering. Warm hand in mine. A boy named Tommy. Blue eyes.
I remembered what I’d left behind.
Anger curdled in my gut.
I growled and called up every ounce of hatred in me. My body twisted and tensed. Claws grew from my fingers, and I reached for the beast above me, gouging out its eyes.
It screamed and retreated, wiping at its furry face. Bits of skin and flesh fell away from its ruined wings. Its tail swished in erratic patterns as it flailed. I wondered how much of my mind had been filled with lies. It came clear that Rory’s hold over me twisted the way in which I saw my past. I lunged for him.
I wanted my freedom.
With two hands, I caught him about his neck. Claws dipped into his flesh. I pulled and ripped it out, gore and blood spurting every which way.
The beast convulsed when it crashed into the railing. Its malformed body broke through the metal bars. Rory, or whatever he’d become, fell off the roof and down to the ground, and no one was there to catch him.
I stood by the broken railing and stared down at the body. I waited there for the rest of the night, wondering if he would move, twitch a foot perhaps. His voice didn’t come into my mind, and I was alone.
The sun reached for the horizon behind me when I tore away my wings. I dropped them over the broken railing to fall atop Rory. I stood there a while longer as the rays of light burned into my back. I knew I’d have blisters there when I woke next, but I didn’t care. I’d lost my guardian, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Like everything that happened to me, it came on suddenly and was over before I could make out why it had happened at all.
Resigned, I climbed down the stairs, eyed his body a final time, and went inside to sleep in our bed. The darkness of rest overtook me with speed. I dreamed of a face with blue eyes, of lips I’d kissed, of a boy I’d loved so long ago. I wasn’t even sure how long it had been since I last saw Tommy Davis. He wouldn't know me now. He could never want me if he found out what I was.
The next night, I woke and reached over for Rory out of habit. Empty sheets. Alone I paced the hall for at least an hour before I dared venture outside. Fireflies lit up the east bushes in the garden. I held my breath and went to the place where the beast had fallen. Only ash remained, gray and fluttering on the breeze. My Rory was gone, and I had a thousand unanswered questions.
I sat down on the flagstone and breathed in the perfume of stock and roses. I could stay here, undiscovered for as long as I wanted. The few staff he kept drove in from the city to clean every two weeks. They knew me, and they knew to come in the early evenings.
I didn’t want to stay, though.
I wanted to find my mother’s grave.
I wanted to find Tommy.
I needed to find myself.
There was no need to pack any belongings. I knew I could live on what I found. If any problems came up, I’d return to the mansion and get what I lacked. I left through the red door at the front, a T-shirt tucked into the waist of my jeans and hanging out. I’d need it when I got to the city so I could blend in. I wanted an early start this night because I had a lot of things to find out.
I willed my wings to push from my skin, to grow back even though I had destroyed them before. They did so now with little pain, bursting forth in a flurry of dark feathers that grew thicker every time I used them. I ran across the lawn and spread them, taking to the night sky with one thought. I’m going home.
Chapter Seven
Home
The apartment building looked the same, poor, run-down and just like the home I’d always known before Rory stole me away. I opened the door and passed through the lobby, just another tenant in a place where no one said hello and no one looked too close. The stairs creaked in all the same places. My mom’s door had been painted white. Bad choice in a place like this. Fingerprints already tarnished the area around the knob.
I knocked.
No one answered.
I waited a while and knocked again.
“Nobody lives there,” someone said behind me.
I turned to see an old woman hobbling down the hall to the stairs.
“Ain’t no one lived there since Monica killed herself six years ago.” She didn’t wait for me to reply, but went on her way, taking the steps with the slow progress of the elderly.
“Six years.” I ran my hand through my hair. “Shit. Six years.” So much time had passed. Time I had lost and could never get back. I placed my hand on the knob and concentrated. The lock clicked once, twice. I jiggled the handle. It clicked a third time, and I opened the door. Rory was right—with time, his secrets had become mine.
The living room was empty.
I bypassed it into the bathroom, half expecting to find my mother’s corpse still there, staring at me with wide, accusing eyes. Perhaps it was all my fault, everything that happened, even her death. I thought about that in the emptiness of the bathroom and sighed. “Looks the same,” I muttered. Down the hall farther, I stopped at my mother’s closed door. She never let me in her room, and I guess I still felt like it was off limits. I kept going until I got to my old bedroom. Again, all the furniture was gone. I sat down beside the window and hugged my knees to my chest.
If anything, it was good to be home even though nothing remained of what it once was. I guess if anything did, it would have made me sad. I would have cried over the poverty of it and the wish for what might have been. Done with my moping and trained to get over it, I stood and glanced around a final time. My stomach wanted blood, and I longed to hunt without the weight of Rory’s watchful eyes.
Just beside the window, scratched onto the wall in pencil, I saw Tommy’s name and mine encircled with a heart. A girlish prickle ran through me like it always had when I saw him in the halls at school or when he smiled at me. “He’s gone,” I told myself and left the apartment, locking the door on my way out.
I tasted the pollution on the night air from my vantage atop the old building. Cars whizzed down streets. People walked along here and there with purpose. I don’t know what could be so important to them. Life was feeding and sleeping for me now. No one could love me. No one would want me. And what if some day I fed from the wrong person and turned into that thing Rory had become? Who would be there to kill me and stop me? What if he’d killed me and gone out into the world like that?
I tugged off my shirt and tucked it into my pants. My wings came and unfolded, ready to carry me out into the night. I swore I wouldn’t prey on the insane, not that I ever had. I ran across the roof and leapt free, gliding over the herds and masses who didn’t even know they were being hunted.
Whores were my favorite. They wear such outlandish things. For weeks I fed from them and carried their bodies to the river where I weighted them with stones and watched as they sank down into the depths. I doubted they’d be missed except by regulars or their pimps if they had one. In Mom’s apartment, I kept the clothes I stole from my victims. Often, I dressed up and went out dancing in them, drawing men’s eyes.
I didn’t want a relationship or casual sex, though. I wanted something more, something I feared I would never find.
It was a Friday when I pulled a slim woman into the alley with me, the promise of cash and a quickie luring her to the shadows. “You’re beautiful,” she said.
Rory’s words. He always told me that.
I didn’t want her compliments. I kissed h
er cheek and lied, “So are you.”
She purred with a false delight when I began to kiss her neck. Teeth passed through her skin. She swooned and swayed as we danced a slow pace toward her death. I liked her blouse. I wanted it. She died in my arms, and I lowered her to the ground, staring at her wide eyes and parted lips.
Someone walked by, a dark shadow, tall and manly. I knew he couldn’t see us in the shadows. Sniffing the air, I found his scent familiar. I stood and left the woman there, planning to return and dispose of her before too long. I wanted to taste this man first.
He walked with purpose. I kept pace just behind. He wore a business suit, had a laptop bag even. He looked out of place in the dregs of downtown. I licked my lips and moved closer.
At a payphone, he stopped and fumbled in his pocket for change.
I breathed deep, confusion washing over me.
“Yeah, hey, Rich. Look, my car died. Can you come get me?”
Five steps away from the man, I stopped in my tracks.
His back was to me when he laughed.
I gasped.
As he gave directions to the person on the phone, I shook my head in disbelief. He put the receiver in place and faced me. Shock widened his eyes. His mouth hung lax while he took in the sight of me.
“Angela? Angela Harris?” A pleasant smile lit up his face. He came toward me, his arms outstretched. I wanted to back away, maybe step aside. This couldn’t be real. He crushed me in an embrace.
I stared up into those big blue eyes and awoke from my dark dreams. Tommy Davis was before me. And I was a wretched creature. A minute more and he would have been dead. I had followed him with the intent of killing him.
“Yes,” I muttered trying to keep my teeth hidden. “Yes, and you’re Tommy.”
“What happened to you? You never came back to class.”
“My mom died.”