One Night Burns (The Vampires of Livix, #1)

by J Gordon Smith

  “Usually later on. But I’m an impatient vampire.”

  There’s that word again. “You’re immortal, right? Why be impatient?”

  “I’m still new. A lot of humanness is left here,” he touched his chest. “You did something different to me after our first meeting.”

  “I did something … to you?”

  “I had to go on that business trip but I only thought of you.”

  “Hunger? Lust? Or –”

  “Like … Need,” he sat there not moving. Waiting for me. “Maybe it’s my recent turning. Something different … I looked forward to seeing you. Hoping I might find you back at the shop. I sat in meetings and my thoughts drifted to those wisps of hair hanging down by the sides of your face from the ribbons holding the rest up. The way your eyelashes curl at the corners of your eyes.”

  Why did I like this attention so? Luxuriously good like a deep kiss in the tighter corners of my mind. Being desired. Wanted. But … not … for … food.

  “Curious. About your hair. You change it every time I see you.”

  “Always have,” I put my hands up to my hair, no obvious bed-head problems. “Why? You don’t like it?”

  “No. I like it. Something about girls changing their hair style I’ve always liked. I’ve seen some women that get frozen in time. Still getting their 1980’s hair cut thirty years later.”

  “Anime.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’ve seen it and probably didn’t know. Japanese Graphic Novel art. One of my hobbies. The style I do my hair in a lot.”

  “Cartoons?”

  “Cartoons are for kids. A lot of adults even in their 30’s and 40’s follow Anime movies and graphic novels. It’s a pretty big industry. Some draw fan art too.”

  “Do you draw it?”

  “Sometimes, in my free time.”

  “Really? That’s great!”

  I found my purse on the ground, I had carried it from the car out of habit. Why? Anyway, handy I had it and I rummaged around until I finally found one of my better gel pens with a durable premium ink. “Come here and give me your arm.”

  He slid slowly across the bench putting his arm out.

  I took the pen and pressed two dots on the top of his wrist next to the sides of his big stainless steel watch. I then eased his wrist over and undid the latch letting it fall into my lap. The heavy watch pushed my skirt down showing the definition and curve of my thighs. I noticed his eyes lingering momentarily upon them.

  His skin shone light against the night and I found the two dots I made and started drawing. I drew quickly. The small picture was not the best drawing I have made. His gaze moved from my face to my work on his arm drawing a fighting Anime girl. Dressing her in the standard school uniform, the skirt flared out to show the movement. At her back a handsome guy that fought with her against a closing circle of evil. The heroes both brandished Japanese swords.

  “Katana and Wakizashi,” he said, looking crisply at me.

  My eyes flicked to his, “You’ve seen Anime before?”

  “No. I know swords.”

  “You collect them?”

  “Lifestyle hazard. Vampires are durable but not completely immortal.”

  “… Not durable against swords?”

  “Certain damage, yes. Taking the head off a vampire though, will kill us.”

  “Wood stakes or garlic?”

  “Only a flesh wound and good on spaghetti.”

  “I see.” I paused. He seemed vulnerable. A secret not normally given up easily, or thought better after having given it. “What about mirrors? A myth?”

  “Yes. And that talk about holy water – false too. It came out of references to Damascus steel making techniques that leave those wavy water markings along a sword. I see you included a hint of it on your drawing. The water marks shown easily from a distance that the steel had been made correctly and sharp enough to kill Vampires. A grain of truth transformed into myth.” He changed topics, “Do you draw on everyone?”

  “No, just you,” I dropped my gaze, a slight smile still not extinguished. I clicked my pen, picked up his watch from my lap and refastened it around his wrist. His skin felt warmer now than before. “The drawing is our little secret.”

  He reached to my face as I turned it toward him. He put his hands on both sides of my head running his fingers thickly through my hair and leaned in. I dropped my pen and wrapped my arms around his neck. Drawing ourselves together. We kissed. We forgot about the park bench, the car, the lights of the city, the creeping cloud cover darkening the late night sky, the softly swirling breeze that kicked up a stray leaf that fell from insect damage.

  One of his hands moved around to the nape of my neck. Sensitive nerves picked up his gentile touch involuntarily forcing my back to arch ever so slightly. He moved is lips across my face like a stone skipping on the water. Large leaps, then smaller, and smaller jumps, until his lips touched below my jaw. Then high on my neck. My eyelids fluttered as the pleasure moved throughout me. His other hand had left my face and ran down my spine to the little hollow in my lower back. Light and ticklish his touch tingled like a growing shiver but turned luxurious and firm. My back and neck became alight with pleasure that warmed and coursed through my body which softened into him.

  But his lips grazed at my throat! I pulled away.

  “What?” he asked, confused and concerned.

  “I’m still worried about my safety.”

  “If I wanted a drink … I had many opportunities.”

  “Saving me for a midnight snack?”

  “Well, it is almost midnight.”

  I smiled. What was I doing?

  “There’s that nice smile again!” He grinned with a pleasant smile of his own.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s irresistible. Young girls are irresistibly designed. You draw in unsuspecting boys.”

  “How is that?”

  “Everything you do, the tilt of your head, the way you walk, the way you absentmindedly brush hair away from your face. Designed to attract. Designed to kill hearts. You’re a dangerous breed.”

  I laughed.

  He quoted, “’A laugh that sounds like angles’ bells yet dangerous to succumb to the sound of the sirens.’”

  “Shakespeare and Homer. You’re bringing out the heavy language.”

  “A poor defenseless boy has to find some shelter. Too easy for a young girl to fluster and distract us.” He flashed that smile of his. Drawing me in.

  “Distract?”

  “Like I said, since we talked at the coffee shop until tonight not a meeting of mine went without thinking of you. I thought I was free from such seduction after becoming a Vampire but it became a new hunger layered on top of the other emotions.”

  About to say something, the wind gusted hard causing me to close my eyes and twist my head. When I turned to him jagged lightning sparked low in the distance. A big raindrop struck his shoulder and the water rebounded like a little July firework. Then another drop hit the bench and the next struck the top of my knee with a stinging chill.

  “The rain is coming. I can hear the wall of water rushing from the South.”

  Darkness smirked out there. The lights from the city of Livix still twinkled in the clear but I watched them begin winking and fading out.

  “We better go. We are at the highest point in fifty miles so that lightning will find us here,” he stood, stretching his hand out to me like a young prince, “those trees show shocks from past storms.” Striped lines of healed but blown bark raked the trunks of every tree in the park. The park bench even showed strange marks at the edge of the backrest.

  I reached to his hand and we walked toward the car.

  The rain stampeded up the hill. Thunderously loud and rapid. We ran. The car chirped and auto unlocked as we came close. Garin opened the door for me then scooted around to hop in his side. We had the doors closed as the heavy rain crawled over the car. Wipers on high wouldn’t clear the g
lass.

  “Oh!”

  “What?”

  “I forgot my purse at the bench.”

  “Really?” He leaned back in his seat, “And I didn’t move my car kit in here yet. So no umbrella. Maybe it will slow down raining soon?”

  “It’s probably still open,” I lifted my shoulders, “sorry.”

  “I won’t melt –”

  “No witches then either?”

  “No witches,” he said as he emptied his pockets and tossed the electronic fob for the car, his wallet, and phone in the center armrest bin. He put his hand on the door latch, “Why can’t women carry their stuff in pockets?”

  “Oh, a lot of work goes into this irresistibleness. Purses store that plus hopes and dreams … and some magic.”

  “Maybe witches do exist? Magic spells and all?” He popped the latch and the door swung out. Before the door swung back closed Garin sat again in his seat. Impossible speed. But not fast enough as he dripped water that ran off the new leather and caused the windows to fog. He pushed moisture from his face and streamed it out of his hair by combing it back with his hand. His hair looked chunky and thick like the hair gelled magazine models. His soaked jeans nicely tightened in the right places.

  His other hand held my purse. The zipper tightly closed. I didn’t remember doing that after getting my pen out. I opened the purse and everything remained dry.

  “Took me longer to find this.”

  I looked over to see he held my gel pen. “I could have lost that and not missed it.”

  “I know but I thought you might want it,” he gave it to me, “and I had already gotten wet.”

  “Thanks,” I put the pen back in my purse and zipped it up.

  “Well, lets get you back home. It’s late and rainy.”

  Garin started the car. It roared to life. Automatic sensors turned the lights on and the defroster on full and quickly drove the moisture from the windshield and the side windows. The system automatically stepped down the air blast. He pushed the clutch in. His wet shoes squeaking on the rubber pedals as he backed the car around and then we went down the gravel road.

  “Can you see? I certainly can’t!” I gripped the armrest.

  “It’s dark, but that’s one of the benefits of my certain affliction,” he turned his face toward her, his pupils wide again but the deepest black with the thin rim of blue iris.

  “Like a cat’s eyes I can see in much deeper darkness than any human.”

  “Goodness, Grandma, what big eyes you have!” I giggled.

  “The better to see you with.”

  We rounded a corner and a broad lightning strike hit a massive oak tree. I remember thinking the tree must be five hundred years old as it would have taken three people to hug it. Its branches covered as much as a sub-division lot. The lighting struck and sparks exploded across it flinging heavy chunks of dense timber into the air. I later worried if this burning tree professed some sort of omen as if being attracted to a vampire wasn’t enough of a bad omen.

  The moment turned into slow motion. Garin stomped into the accelerator while whisking the steering wheel around first one and then another twist as the huge jagged pieces of wooden shrapnel pounded into the ground. The bombs struck the gravel near the front fender by me and then next to the rear wheel on the other side of the car. Garin saw these pieces of wood bypass the car and avoided them with expert twists and turns on the loose gravel like flying through some deep space asteroid field. Then a little bump and chirp from the tires told me we moved again on the blacktop. A faint and fast approaching point of light revealed the road crossing ahead and then as rapidly it receded behind us. I soon recognized the stores along one of the streets, “Turn right at the next light.”

  The rain slowed so I could see lighted signs easier.

  “Turn left ahead. Address is 505 Edwards. It’ll be on the left side.”

  Garin pulled the car close, “You’ve got your key ready?”

  As I dug my keys out of my purse I looked up and the rain had stopped. Everything dripped and shined in the reflected street lights making the colors vibrant and bursting. Garin got out and we walked up to the building entrance. I put the key in the door, “You’re welcome to come up.”

  “No. You need to get some sleep. And it’s still a first date. I don't want any accusations of ‘A heart unfortified, or mind impatient’.”

  “Plying me with poetry again?” I smiled as I unlocked the outer door to the building, swinging my purse and backpack over my shoulder.

  “Maybe,” he leaned in and kissed me softly. Then he walked backwards toward his car watching me. I waved as I pushed through the big glass and aluminum door and took the stairs to my apartment.

  -:- Four -:-

  I rushed to the parking garage the next day remembering my car had been left over night. I hoped I could get there before receiving a ticket or impounding. The ferocious parking meter maids in Livix quickly pounced on any misstep. They hired college kids who camped near parking areas with the same furor as waiting in line for concert tickets and kept a sharp eye for any flippant parkers.

  The fistful of quarters in my hand burned hot and sticky as I hurried. But I saw the display registered full credit for another ten hours. I didn’t put that much change in by accident yesterday. I think I remembered putting two quarters in covering a few hours at most. I looked at the car again to make sure I stood at my car. Random flotsam on the seats and floor confirmed the car as mine. A small card pushed under the wiper blade said, “I didn’t want your car to get ticketed so I hope you don’t mind that I fed the meter for you. This is my card if you want to call me. Any time.”

  I turned the crisp card over seeing blazed in heavy ink “Bank of Draydon Financial” and his name Garin with a title of “Analyst” with his email and phone. I realized I hadn’t given him my phone number. Oops! I tucked his card in my purse and dropped the quarters down the side so they could swim and jingle with the other random bits of metal in there.

  I went to class. The whole time I badly wanted to go on a social media site and do an AMA titled “I kissed a vampire and I liked it”. But I didn’t.

  Class let out finally. I walked across from campus into the law office.

  “Hi Marilyn!” I said as I entered and dropped my bags at the work station in the empty office open for me. I oddly felt as if I came home from high school.

  “Hi Anna!” Marilyn said, swiveling her chair around from her computer station. She worked on a document rather than email, “Hey, when you get a chance, why don’t you take a look at what’s going on with the patent legislation and first filers rather than first to invent. I’m doing an opinion piece on the change for the firm’s blog, and wanted to get your take on it, since you’re immersed in the University and probably have some discussions in class or Internet content that could be useful. Send me any thoughts or notes, nothing too coherent or formal, quick bullet points. I’m working on it tonight, or tomorrow morning as I’ve got a deadline on this document from our favorite Judge.”

  “Ok.” I turned the computer system on. It booted up off the network server, pretty quickly. I sat down and rummaged through the recent notes on the changes being proposed. Pretty amazing actually. The United States system of documenting the first inventor proved challenging and difficult while the rest of the world followed first filer protocols. First filer became an advantage to large corporations since they could spend money on immediately getting a patent while a lone inventor working in his basement often didn’t have the money to file. The risk became a big sly corporation scoops up the idea and patents work that an independent inventor spent twenty years developing and the inventor is locked out with no recourse to his claim. Startup and small companies, like Marilyn hiring me, provided most job growth in an economy.

  I poked around the Internet further but didn’t find any more useful information. Or at least more insightful information than I extrapolated from the first few sites. A lot of chatter. Some worried lawyers a
nd some happy corporations but with worried law staffers as the first filer method meant less work and possible unemployment for them. I logged into the three main law library web sites. For a subscription fee and a lawyer group membership you had electronic access to the whole US law library. Nothing useful in the case files since they covered the patent system created by Jefferson and Franklin at the founding of this country; not the brave new one.

  I made some notes for Marilyn, and notes for myself to study some of the foreign systems to see what games get played in mature first filer systems so I know what to watch out for when I’m doing patents. In my note to Marilyn I added she should check with contacts she knew in England, France, Japan, or even Brazil as they might yield ideas since they operate under that system.

  I logged into the server and checked my email. I needed to finish some filing of completed work plus client questions. So I spent time drafting responses and putting the data in the correct server sub-folders so we could retrieve them later when necessary, glad I did all that filing when I first worked here so I knew where everything should go.

  I found something interesting as I moved files around. A patent filed for this manufacturer or research center called “Vermilion Genomics” on a blood study; had Garin’s bank name on some of the submission paperwork. What is the Bank of Draydon doing on a research patent? Banks might loan a company money but they didn’t get involved with what the company did, generally. Even if the research company floundered, the bank’s involvement would be superficial and focus on payables, receivables, and cash flow to ensure continued payment of the mortgages and other financing obligations.

  I pulled out Garin’s and held it carefully by its sharp edges like holding onto a razor blade. Should I call him? He wouldn’t know about the patent stuff – usually too wide of a business with too many people to expect Garin to know anything.