Vampires Don't Cry: The Collection

by Ian Hall

  I recalled that conversation back in my apartment in Harris. Reynolds had threatened to let the cat out of the bag, tell Lyman, Mary-Christine, Weeks, and the whole world about the “voices” should I put the team at risk. Even I had to agree, running off for a faceoff with Alan qualified as such an event. I decided to supplicate and hope he’d show mercy.

  “You’re right,” I said apologetically. “I wanted my shot at Alan McCartney so I jumped before looking. I thought I could handle him; I was wrong.”

  You’d have figured that my owning up to the mistake would have bought just a little bit of leniency. Apparently, Frank Reynolds didn’t see it that way.

  “You weren’t just ‘wrong’, Mandy. You were down right thoughtless!” He got up, paced to the stairs, hands clasped behind his back, pivoted, and then froze in place, face cold as freaking stone. “But, I blame myself for trusting you. Next time I’ll think twice before giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

  Ouch. How the hell did this guy get a hold of my father’s “How to Make your Daughter Feel Like Total Shit” handbook? I shrunk down in my chair and felt the humiliating sting of tears swelling in my eyes.

  “All I was trying to do -”

  Reynolds finished my sentence for me. “Was trying to prove to Alan McCartney what a big-bad vampire you’ve grown up to be; turn our fight into your own personal pissing contest. I’ll make this very clear for you, Mandy, once and for all. I didn’t sign on to help you get yourself killed. If that’s what you have in mind then you can consider my resignation tendered. Effective immediately.”

  That got Lyman’s attention. He nudged Mary-Christine’s head of his lap and got up to go to Reynolds.

  “Hey…Frank…please don’t do that. I’ll get this situation under control.”

  Oh, lord. Another man who considered me a “situation” and something that needed to be “controlled.” Vampire, human, or Helsing - or a mix of all three - they were all the same; they just wanted to keep me in line. Suddenly I hated them all: Lyman Bracks, Frank Reynolds, and for sure - that freaking Alan McCartney.

  I could feel my face reddening. Try as I might, I couldn’t hold back the deluge of angry tears. To make matters worse, Mary-Christine rushed over and hugged me. That bitch.

  Lyman’s saved his sympathy for Reynolds. He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and vowed on my behalf, “It won’t happen again, Frank. Please reconsider. We can’t lose you.”

  Reynolds’s gaze still fixed on me, though. His tone was flat but demanding.

  “I want to hear it from her.”

  Mary-Christine brushed some hair out of my face. She was so lucky my fangs were still too short to puncture that neck of hers.

  “It’s all right, Mandy,” she said softly. “We all just want to hear you say it.”

  That freaking did it.

  I pushed that compassionate twit out of my way and jumped to my feet.

  “Say what? That I’m sorry for trying to kill Alan McCartney? That I’ll never do it again? Fuck you all!” I kicked the chair behind me, sending it flying to the back wall with a crash. “If I ever get the chance to kill that bastard again - I will take it. And if I die in the process…” I had to choke back a building sob, “then all the better for you; one less ‘situation’ you’ll have to control.”

  I stormed to the door and flung it open. Before leaving, I turned to face the bewildered, oh-so-innocent Lyman.

  “By the way, freak - I only kissed you because Alan made me.”

  All the kindness and empathy drained from Mary-Christine’s sweet-little face.

  “What was your excuse when you tried to fuck me in the safe room?”

  Lyman looked like he could faint. I think Mary-Christine did.

  With a snarl, I left them to pick up the pieces.

  Before Mandy’s last torrent, I knew it was a bad idea to bait her.

  I tried twice to assure Reynolds that it was okay, but twice he hit her again. Like a runaway steam engine, I knew for a fact something would blow. We’d all had a pretty pressurized day, and I hoped that Mandy would either going to cool down, or piss off before she hit boiling point.

  When the chair hit the wall, I looked at Mary-Christine’s face. She looked in shock at the outburst. Then, of course, it got worse.

  “What was your excuse when you tried to fuck me in the safe room?”

  I stood looking at her, wondering how she had the unmitigated gall to say what she did.

  I never tried to fuck her, I only wanted a kiss. Then, of course, it proved too late; I had a guilty face when Mary-Christine looked at me for some form of denial.

  Mandy disappeared.

  Mary-Christine walked the three feet to close on me. Slap. I think I took it well.

  “Bastard.” Mary-Christine left us two men together, shaking our heads at the slamming of the front door.

  A long moment of silence hung in the air between us.

  “You tried to fuck Mandy?” Reynolds’s expression showed neither condemnation nor disgust. He just nodded his head. “She’s a real good-looking kid.”

  “It was more of a clinch…” I began, but stopped; no point in saying more. I’d blown both of them in one day, and I needed something in my life more than a remote girlfriend, more than someone who blew hot and cold on regular intervals.

  “What do I do, Frank?” I almost cried.

  To my surprise, he laughed, and dragged me to the door. Before I knew it, he drove out of town, heading for Everton, then off the highway, north again. I asked our destination a few times, but he shook his head resolutely. “Cross Keys Ranch”, the sign read as we passed, and pretty soon, we’d obviously reached our target.

  A valet took Frank’s car away, and we walked to the main building; all the world like a huge agricultural barn.

  Inside, the ‘barn’ stopped and ‘plush’ began. A world of soft lighting, polished brass and high quality leather upholstery. A uniformed guard walked up to us, and politely demanded ID.

  “Frank Reynolds,” he said softly. “Go tell your boss that me and my son will be having a drink or ten in your establishment.”

  The man pressed on an electronic tablet for a moment. “Mr. Reynolds! Nice to see you again, sir. I’ll inform Guido that you’re here.”

  “Thank you.”

  Frank walked onwards, and I followed. Past the foyer, we passed through double doors. Inside, heavy rock music played loud, and topless waitresses with trays took drink orders. I didn’t even open my mouth.

  “Single malt scotch, and ice, twice.” He stood looking around. The waitress had been fucking gorgeous, and Frank hadn’t batted an eye. I felt beyond myself with utter admiration for the man. I had gone from ‘hopeless in love’ to carefree bar room voyeur. At least three platforms were raised from the main floor, and ladies in various stages of undress swung themselves round shiny silver poles.

  I hadn’t been on my meds all day, and I caught a hint of vampire; just a slight touch, but someone here was of the undead.

  The drinks arrived before I realized, and the glass got passed into my hands. Frank gave a two-finger order for more. The waitress flashed her smile, and I fell head over heels in love.

  “There’s a toast from the old country,” Frank began, bringing me back from my dreams of courting the waitress. “Slaithe. It means good cheer, best of health.”

  I repeated the phrase, it sounded like ‘slanje’, and we chinked glasses together. As I continued my peripheral observations, he downed his drink in one. Then looked at me to do the same.

  This stuff tasted smooth. It burned, for sure, but it held an oiliness that coated my throat from mouth to deep belly. “Wow,” I said, unable to think of anything erudite.

  Six or seven drinks passed my lips in the next hour or so.

  Visions of every kind of woman passed my eyes, and they were all fantastic-looking. Frank pushed me, insistent that I choose my favorite, and it did take me a while. After lots of dithering, it had to be Corinna.

/>   Italian stock, ivory hair that flowed down her back in rivulets. Nice tits, but not too much, and a face that could have graced any magazine cover in the world and sold millions.

  Before I knew, I sat in a small booth, soundproofed from the rest of the cacophony around us.

  The music began, and Corinna flowed before me. Her dance rapture beyond words, but when she approached me and began to climb on my already-engorged penis, there was only one way this encounter could end. After dancing what seemed forever, she unzipped me, then caressed with oils and fingers, in a way that only dancers can.

  As the rock-track ended, so did I.

  Corinna wiped me clean, kissed me goodbye, and I sat by myself to slowly come to my senses.

  I wandered for a while, high in my afterglow, looking for Frank.

  I eventually noticed him, sitting in conversation with a large, white-haired man.

  As I approached, Frank was obviously drunk.

  “Three fucking years, Guido.”

  Guido nodded, and seeing me approach, indicated to Frank that they had company.

  “Three fucking years, and I finally get payback.”

  “Frank.” Guido stood. “There’s a young gentleman standing behind you.”

  Reynolds stood up and turned. He tried to cover up the tears flowing down his face, but didn’t come close. Suddenly he fell back to the leather chair. “This is Lyman; he’s a real friend. Tell him, Guido. Tell him everything.”

  I rounded the circle of deep leather chairs and sank into one.

  Guido sat before me, his eyes heavy with severity.

  “Frank lost his only daughter to vampires in Gregor Academy three years ago.”

  I didn’t stop running ‘til I hit the very edge of Gregor. My heart pulled me toward Harris; but a big bubble of guilt in my stomach told me I had to go back to Lyman’s and put things right.

  It had been a kiss; nothing more. And he’d stopped it long before it turned into anything else. Lyman didn’t deserve to have a split-second indiscretion thrown in his face, used to disgrace him in my moment of humiliation. Reynolds had called me out and I turned it around on my friend.

  My best friend.

  I just turned back when a set of headlights rounded the corner. The smell of Helsing hit the air. Without a doubt, I knew the driver.

  Mary-Christine pulled to a stop. She didn’t look my way, but popped the lock as an invitation. As I got inside, the black streaks running down her face reminded me that Lyman wasn’t the only one I’d hurt tonight.

  “Listen,” I started but she cut me off.

  “Shut up, Mandy. I don’t want to hear it.”

  My pride sat in my throat like a hard chunk of really dry bread, but I swallowed it down and let her have her say.

  “You’re nothing to me. If you want to run off and let Alan kill you, then so be it. The sooner you get it over with, the better for all of us. But, what you do with Lyman is a completely different matter.” She turned to look at me straight on. “He is mine and you keep your fucking hands off my boyfriend.”

  Mary-Christine had obviously finished with her speech; she’d turned her head back to look out to the street, even though the car was still parked. At first I really didn’t know what to say to that, and the car kind of filled up with a thick, awkward silence. Two words dangled on the tip of my tongue but I couldn’t bring myself to speak them. It would have been so much easier if I had. As the silence got to be too much, streams of words - all but those two - flooded out of me.

  “I’ve never had friends before, Mary-Christine,” I heard myself say and then went on to explain as much to myself as to her. “I’ve always been popular and had chicks to hang out with, guys to make out with…but, that’s not the same as having friends. Nobody’s got your back - y’know. The person closest to you is likely the one who’ll stick the knife if your back…It’s like this weird social jungle where only the meanest survive.”

  Mary-Christine chuckled at that. “Yeah, I know. I’m usually the gazelle being stalked by the pack of hyenas…”

  “Hold up!” I interjected. “Are you calling yourself a graceful creature of beauty and me a mangy, nasty-looking predator?”

  Mary-Christine’s eyes got all round and stunned, her mouth started miming something but no words came out. Next thing I knew we both busted out laughing. It must have been the buildup of so many months of circling each other, sizing each other up; personally, I always thought it would end in me ripping her head off. Instead, we laughed ourselves to tears.

  My tears went from ones of release, to those of genuine shame.

  “You’ve always had my back,” I said, finding myself in awe of the girl in the driver’s seat. “I mean - you hated me, but you looked out for me. So, I guess if it’s a choice between ‘friends’ that’ll screw me over in a heartbeat, or an ‘enemy’ that’ll save my ass when the shit hits the fan…”

  “Then I’m the best enemy you’ve ever had,” Mary-Christine finished, batting her eyes.

  “Well…yeah!”

  As a cheerleader, and once-upon-a-time the very nucleus of the social cell at Everton High, I used to get hugged a lot. Heck, I could barely make it down the hallway without some chick bouncing at me, throwing her arms around my neck, and making sure she got her five seconds of fame for being seen with me. But, when Mary-Christine leaned over and pressed our cheeks together I realized I’d never really been hugged before in my life. At least, not by another girl.

  “I still don’t like you, Mandy,” she said, smiling as she pulled out of our embrace, “but I do trust you. As you so delicately put it - when the shit hits the fan…I trust you to come through. Lyman trusts you and so does Frank. It’d be fantastic if you’d remember which side you’re on when the fight is over.”

  I slunk back in my seat, shoulders slumped. “Frank doesn’t trust me. You heard him…”

  “I heard him trying to keep you from getting yourself killed!”

  “I’m a hyena,” I replied with a shrug. “Hyenas are stupid.”

  Mary-Christine grimaced. “I didn’t mean to call you a hyena. You’re more like a lioness. But, even lions hunt in packs, Mandy.”

  “Usually they’re trying to take down a buffalo. Alan McCartney’s a freaking liger; bigger than all of us put together.”

  “What? And you think you’re the only one who can match him?” Mary-Christine fished for something in the door well on her side and pulled out a coagulant dart. “We’ve got teeth, too, Mandy.”

  “Um… that meant for me?”

  “Not necessarily.” She smiled. “But, I always have something on hand just in case.”

  “Just in case you find out I’ve been making out with your B.F.?”

  I meant it as a sheepish joke but only succeeded in wiping the grin right off Mary-Christine’s face. As if she didn’t trust herself with it, she put the dart back in its hiding spot and clutched the steering wheel, knuckles turning white.

  “I started it!” I blurted out. “I kissed Lyman…but, it wasn’t me, really. Alan screwed with my head; he planted the suggestion and I did it before I even knew I was going to.”

  “How could Alan McCartney plant an idea in your head? Have you been in contact with him before today?”

  “No…but, he’s been in contact with me. I don’t understand it myself but it has something to do with the link that’s created between a new vampire and the vampire that turned them. Jackson called it being ‘beholden.’ Alan got in my head early on, and he’s been messing with me this whole time. I don’t know how it works; I just put two and two together today.”

  She looked oddly unimpressed. “Whatever. But, that doesn’t explain Lyman’s part in it…was Alan forcing him to try to get into your pants?”

  “Lyman’s a guy, Mary-Christine,” I said as if that explained it all, “and he’s also part vampire. The urge is insane - I mean, when I was human I had a pretty strong libido but sometimes now it’s freaking intolerable.”

  I flashed
back to the safe room. Pushed up against the wall. Lyman’s mouth over mine. Then he moved down to my throat, hands fumbling over my bra claps. I felt for him; he’d been ready and I’d past the point of no return. I unzipped his pants. Lyman stumbled back as if I’d shot him.

  “He stopped himself, Mary-Christine. I would have gone through with it…but, Lyman was stronger.”

  “You would’ve gone through with it?!”

  “Yes! It would have ruined our friendship and Lyman would’ve never been able to stand the sight of me again, but yes!”

  “What are you - some kind of mindless fuck machine, Mandy?”

  I nodded. “Sometimes.”

  Mary-Christine took on the air of a big sister, trying to reason with a younger sibling. “Don’t you have any concept that sex should be between two people who really love each other?”

  I dipped my head to my chest. “I let go of that a long time ago. I was top-bitch in the social jungle. Virginity was a sign of weakness.”

  “So, you think I’m weak?”

  I nodded. “Sometimes.”

  “Well. I’m going to show you how strong I can be, Mandy,” she said, lifting her chin resolutely. “I’m going to forgive you.”

  That freaking crushed me to a pulp. I leaned my forehead against the dash and sobbed.

  “Thank you.”

  “But, if it happens again - I’ll dart your ass.”

  I could tell she felt half-serious. At least. I wiped my eyes, but the tears still kept coming.

  “You know the worst part? There’s this guy back in Harris that I really do care about, Mary-Christine. And today I killed his parents. I killed them to save them, but he’s not going to understand that. For all I know, he’s dead anyway…I really need to get there to find out but I’m sitting in your car trying to explain why I almost screwed your boyfriend…”

  Mary-Christine put the car in drive and floored the pedal.

  “Where’re we going?”

  “To Harris, dumbass.”

  Reynolds lets it All Out

  Reynolds looked up from his glass of melting ice. He looked like he needed to unburden himself, so I sat back, saying nothing, letting it come out naturally.