1 Dicey Grenor

by Grenor, Dicey

  As long as his memories remained hidden we could have a do-over.

  I blinked away a tear and kissed his cheek before he backed away like a zombie and I retreated to the bathroom. I slid down the bathroom wall until I landed on my bottom. I stayed there sad, lonely, and ashamed for hours after he was long gone. I’d known desolation as a human, not as a vampire. Thought that part of my brain had been shut down…until I met Aaron. Now, I’d severed a connection with him I hadn’t known I was desperate to have.

  And it sucked.

  Priority #1 was getting it back.

  Chapter 19

  At some point I fell asleep on the bathroom floor. When I finally got up, first thing I did was setup a fake Facebook profile and sent Rafe a message. I sent him copies of the pictures and dared him to pursue his vendetta against Cindy. And for her trouble he had to throw in a large sum of money so she could buy another place. He could afford it if he laid off a maid or two.

  Then I deleted the account. No response necessary. Not to me anyway.

  Even though I’d been the one to attack Aaron, I blamed Rafe for making things get out of control. If he hadn’t used Aaron’s head as a piñata none of this would have happened. Sure, if I hadn’t been a vampire it wouldn’t have happened either, but Rafe’s insolence was the catalyst for my drive-by to begin with. I would have been perfectly content having another all night talkfest with Aaron.

  Now, I risked Aaron remembering what happened and hating my guts.

  Yes. It was all Rafe’s fault.

  Almost wished he’d fuck up so I could use the images to destroy him. Only thing was Aaron’s face was in the pics too. And he had no memory of taking them.

  I put the camera away before I was tempted to out Rafe on general principle.

  Next, I emailed a response to Dr. Floyd confirming we’d meet at his office tomorrow.

  Also had to login to my bank account. Yep, like clockwork, my payroll check had been deposited. I remembered when Cindy had set it up for me so that I could bank online. She hadn’t even asked why I couldn’t do it during bank hours. I hoped we could get back to the way things used to be.

  I scheduled a contribution to American Red Cross as I’d done with every check. Since I’d stolen blood from their bank a few times when in a pinch, I felt it was only right to support their cause.

  My parents would say it was sacrilege not to give my tithes to church, but I read the bible to say “storehouse” not church. I’d seen enough mismanagement of church funds to know they weren’t all functioning as storehouses. Although I gave occasionally to churches I’d watched on Sunday morning television, I had more faith in non-religious affiliated 501c3s. At least I didn’t have to worry about them using my tithe towards a building fund or an outlandish pastoral lifestyle then claiming God said to do it. No, the Red Cross used it where needed, where it saved lives. And they made financial statements available. This humanitarian organization had more accountability and integrity than most churches I knew. And I knew A LOT of churches. Besides, the bible spelled out “church” so many times that it could have been specific about tithing to church if God wanted to say church.

  So fuck ’em. I didn’t let anyone tell me who to give my money to. Religious whackos had run my life long enough.

  Just as I was about to shutdown my laptop, an instant message chimed:

  Hey, Willow. It’s Mom.

  Ha! The irony. Hey.

  How’ve you been?

  Fine. You?

  Good. [pause] Miss you.

  Me too.

  Pause.

  Long Pause.

  Well, now that we got the niceties out of the way, clearly she had something on her mind. Let’s just get down to it, shall we:

  What?

  Your dad’s birthday is coming up and the church is having a dinner for him.

  Tell him I said Happy Birthday.

  Willow, I want you to come. It’s been years since I’ve seen you.

  I don’t think so.

  Your brothers will be there. They miss you too.

  Good try, but I knew better. They missed me about as much as a wart. My older and younger brother were both threads from the old cloth, both preachers like dad. Only thing they hated more than me was sin. I’d always been the black sheep of the family and not just because of my narcolepsy. No, I was the one who snuck away to listen to secular music and watch “Dungeons and Dragons”. The one who refused to take the purity vow but read erotic magazines instead. And uttered curse words to emphasize points or because it felt good rolling off my wicked tongue.

  But I’d never seen in the bible thou shalt not say “shit” or “fuck”.

  Honor thy father and mother was in there though. Which was the only reason I still corresponded with her via the internet to begin with. Even though they didn’t know I had no intention of seeing them again, I’d honorably said goodbye to my family before going to stay with Max and giving up my human life. No intention of building a relationship with them now.

  Please, Willow. I love you. Please come.

  I considered disconnecting her then decided against being rude. I loved and missed her too, imperfections and all. But I was not going to be guilt-tripped with I Love You’s. There was no way in hell I was going to my dad’s church dinner. Still didn’t hurt to be nice about it.

  I’ll think about it.

  * smile *

  Yeah, I’d given her false hope, but at least she was smiling.

  We chatted awhile and then it was over. Done. Until another few years from now.

  It was for the best.

  As soon as I got to work, Cin rushed up to me, grabbed my arm, and dragged me to the nearest room. Her sweet cinnamon scent was overtaken by the smell of budussy that hit my nose and nearly knocked me down the second we entered. She hadn’t even noticed she’d closed us in the AsSmother/Toe-rrific room with the face-sitting/foot fetish crowd. I came here once every blue moon to collect blood, but Valentina frequented this room and boasted of the subs’ expertise. She’d trained a few herself.

  If Cin was looking for privacy, we wouldn’t get it here. Then again, no one paid us any mind. They were too busy sucking and fingering so we were invisible.

  Trey Songz’s “Love Faces” was playing all erotic through the speakers. And how appropriate was that.

  “I take it Rafe has talked to you,” I said, yanking my arm back.

  “What the hell did you do to him? He called me crying, begging me to call the mafia off him. The mafia!”

  I laughed. He was really melodramatic, wasn’t he? “Is that all he said?”

  Someone was coming in the far corner and apparently it was intense. Made me want some of that. The effect of my session with Max was wearing off. Focusing on Cin was getting harder.

  “He also said I could have whatever I wanted: Lucia, money, the house. I know you must have gotten to him, but how?”

  “I can’t tell you without incriminating myself and a friend.” I glanced in the corner as a thick blonde with ripped pantyhose got up from a bench where she’d been sitting on a man’s latex face. Only his glistening mouth was visible. She looked completely satisfied and a little wobbly on her feet but was nice enough to unzip his mask so he could breathe through his nose. I tore my eyes away to concentrate on our conversation.

  Cin crossed her arms. “The friend you got all dolled-up for last night?”

  Too close to home. I’d said too much. “Just be glad he’s off your back. Name your price. I’m sure he’ll pay it.” My eyes wandered again.

  “I suppose I should thank you.”

  Well, duh.

  The man who’d worked the blonde over thoroughly got up zipping his pants. He’d been manually working himself out too.

  I was over Cin’s drama. I’d done my part. There were other things on my mind now. Looking at her meaningfully, I had to ask, “So we good? You and me?”

  She smiled. “Oh, yeah. You’re a dangerous enemy.”

  I nodded. “D
on’t you forget it.”

  We shared a stare then she gulped, blinked and walked out.

  I didn’t move because I had half a mind to get friendly with Mr. Tongue who was spraying down the bench with sanitizer, wiping it clean. I didn’t have to wait until after my set to collect blood and I could use a good workout with a submissive. It may even keep another catastrophe like what happened last night with Aaron from happening tonight. And wouldn’t it be grand if Aaron could end the night with his memories and nose in tact.

  After the job I’d just seen Mr. Tongue pull, he’d be good for blood and orgasm.

  Looking around, I noticed two other couples enjoying themselves and a set of five who looked like they were playing naked Twister. I’d have to get him further in the corner or take him to the restroom to go unnoticed.

  By the time my eyes made it back to Mr. Tongue, I nearly swallowed mine. He was looking straight at me and I could see his features clearly enough to recognize him. The room was sparsely lit with yellow neon light, but it didn’t matter. I’d recognize those sapphire blue eyes, pale skin with pink undertones and choppy dark brown hair anywhere because it belonged to Ivan, my first love…the one who’d cheated and broken my heart.

  There were no hard feelings, but I’d better get the hell away before I broke that dick…or tongue of his.

  Chapter 20

  He was walking towards me. Fast.

  I was so out of here.

  “Willow! Wait!” I heard him jogging to reach me.

  Okay, I could do this. “What?”

  His smile was breathtaking. “Is that anyway to greet someone you once loved?”

  “Keyword: once.”

  He went on to explain how he was happy to see me, how he missed me, how sorry he was for how things ended yada yada. I was over it. Really. But that didn’t stop me from being immature. So just for the hell of it, I slowly raised my hands to the sides of his face and brought him forward like I was going to put a wet one on him. I captivated his brain instead, planting a seed about him loving me forever but never having me again. How he’d yearn and ache and remember the one good thing he had and lost. When I let his unconscious go, I told him to go fuck himself and walked off, swinging my hips as I went. I could feel his eyes on me. Good. Get a gander at what you’ll never touch again.

  It was petty, I know. But what good are supernatural powers if you can’t use them for self-gain every now and again?

  As I hurriedly left the room to disappear before he tried to talk again, I ran smack dab into Queen Ming. This was partly her crowd, after all.

  “Wow. You’re in a hurry. Seen a ghost?” she said.

  I shrugged but didn’t slow down. She kept up with me. “You’re in a hurry too it would seem.”

  “Headed back to the dressing room. I can’t take another minute watching that girl—what’s her name? Fiery Red Beast? She’s playing Fucky Ducky tonight and it’s creeping me out.”

  I laughed. Hysterically.

  It was always funny when people saw our shows for the first time. Apparently, even other performers could be amazed…and sickened.

  Fire, AKA Fiery Red Beast specialized in bestiality and on the real—that shit was nasty weird. I didn’t blame Ming for being squeamish. Fire did it as tastefully as possible, but like necrophilia, there was no soft and easy way to make it appear normal. I always thought anything between consenting adults was okay—and that was the problem with mine and Fire’s specialties. The dead couldn’t consent and animals shouldn’t.

  I’d seen Fire perform Fucky Ducky before with feathers everywhere, but it was nothing compared to some of her other costumes: Smoking Tigress, Titty Kitty, Moo Moo Baby, Bitch in Heat, and Nasty Piggy. It especially crept me out when she dressed as Medusa with her red hair swarming around her face like snakes and scales painted all over her naked body. She called herself Horny Serpent then. Patrons loved it, especially when she stuffed herself with a rubber snake. Freaks. As long as she didn’t bring in a real snake, we were cool. It was all fucked up, but I preferred her shows when she brought stuffed animals and simulated sex with them rather than dressing up as the actual animals.

  She was smart too, had a masters in anthrozoology, which made her somewhat of an expert in animal/human interactions…and a formidable foe. She also had intimate experience with an animal considering Punch was a beast of sorts. Hell, sex with were-animals probably redefined bestiality in the same way sex with vampires did necrophilia. But never mind her sexual experience with the fetish. Recent developments indicated she may have even more intimate knowledge of beasts, like firsthand look-in-the-mirror-at-yourself type knowledge.

  Anytime I thought of Fire now, I thought of possible beasts who breathed fire just to prepare myself for a showdown. Whatever I came up with made me want to shit my pants.

  She was nothing good.

  Shuddering at the thought, I switched my brain to what was to come after work. And there it was again: a smile, warmth in my chest, and overall sucker-like giddiness. There was undeniable anticipation circulating throughout my body anytime I thought about seeing Aaron later. I liked Remi, but I was hot for Aaron. I wanted him as my friend, my lover, my companion.

  Aaron was my muse.

  And as soon as my spirits uplifted they were stomped down again. Severely.

  Truth was, I was bringing nothing but heaps of shit to Aaron’s life. In addition to harming him physically, all my mental manipulation was harming his brain. Unfortunately, that was just the beginning. Max was pissed at me, which meant Aaron was in danger of further collateral damage. As a matter of principle, jealousy, and ego-bruising, Max would make Aaron pay for my rebellion. Me wanting Aaron was nothing but trouble for both of us.

  Rubbing the hollow part of my chest where my heart used to be, I thought of how many ways Max could punish me. He had all the tools he needed. Maistre vampires were powerful by anyone’s definition but particularly to their clan of vamps. As sire, they held all power over us. He could have exercised his power and summoned me already if he really wanted to be petty and I would have been compelled by supernatural forces to do his bidding. No doubt, he was just trying to make me come around so that I would go back compliantly on my own. He’d always admired my strong-will. Plus, rogue vamps were controllable but irritating.

  Then again, with the current war against us, he didn’t need my shit. It would be better for him to make an example of me. He certainly didn’t want other vamps getting ideas, requesting to leave the clan house. He would either have to let them go or risk looking like he was playing favorites with me. No, they wouldn’t win a mutiny against him, but he wouldn’t want to be surrounded by a bunch of angry brides and clan brothers.

  Funny—none of that bothered me as much as knowing the harm he would inflict on Aaron.

  Maybe it was time to come up with a plan to protect him. Running wasn’t an option. Max could and would find me anywhere. I was a fighter, and though no match for Max, I had to put up a fight. But I couldn’t kill him. His death meant mine and hundreds of others. And if he didn’t die, he’d be back with a vengeance nightmares were made of. I just couldn’t win which meant I couldn’t protect Aaron.

  By the time I was done performing, collecting blood from Mr. Cash, and dressing, I felt depressed. There was no way I could fight and win against Max. I was as good as meeting my final death really soon. The best I could do was save Aaron by staying away from him.

  But that wasn’t all.

  Mr. Cash had returned from his trip to D.C. where he’d attended the Humans Against Supernatural Beings Summit. Turns out, he’d been working hard to help pass legislation that would make sex with vampires punishable by imprisonment. It wasn’t enough that vampires and humans couldn’t marry, but once these laws were passed, they couldn’t get caught having sexual contact either. The government was working hard to crack down on humans who harbored and aided vampires in any way and they considered sex fraternizing that would lead to us evading extermination.

>   It was all bull.

  Mr. Cash had told me and anyone who would listen to him about his political endeavors. He never had a problem tooting his own horn. It was the same way every time he came to Hades and sat at the bar and had a few drinks. He’d do all that talking then start propositioning the employees for sex. Guess we were supposed to be turned on by his political power.

  Not.

  Just meant I needed to have sex with Aaron soon while there were no legal consequences for him. So staying away from him would have to come after that.

  When I got in the car next to Aaron, I kissed his cheek and buckled up for appearance-sake then waited. But he didn’t start the car and drive off.

  He spoke instead. “We need to talk. Strange things have been happening to me and I think you know why.”

  Okay. This talk was inevitable. “Like what?”

  “When I woke up this morning, I couldn’t remember details about last night. I remembered hanging out with you but only that we did. I can’t visualize anything. Not where we went or what you wore…and…”

  “And?”

  “I had blood on my clothes. Lots of it.”

  “Oh.” I rubbed my temples. Big booboo. I’d been so distracted by Max and struggling with my emotions regarding Aaron, I’d forgotten to cover my tracks. Hadn’t even changed motel rooms as I normally would have.

  “And I had energy today like you wouldn’t believe. Ran ten miles, ate about five thousand calories. I could hear, see, smell, feel things from distances that just aren’t humanly possible.” You don’t say. “What’s happening to me, Willow?” He looked at me with those gorgeous puppy eyes and I melted. “And I’ve missed blocks of time. Taylor and Reese had new journal entries.” He smoothed hair down over his head. “I haven’t heard from them in years.”