by Katie May
“Do you need something to drink?” Frankie yells into my ear, and I nod eagerly, pushing my previous thoughts aside. I’ll focus on them at a later time.
“Yes, please, with a sparkly dildo on top,” I reply back, nipping his earlobe. He smiles at me—none of his usual aloofness remaining—and gives my arms a squeeze.
“I’ll be right back. Stay where I can see you.”
I wave away his over-protectiveness and shoo him towards the bar. As he leans forward to talk with his friend, the bartender, I can’t help but wonder where Dimitri disappeared to. And…if he liked the show.
My feelings for Jack, Hux, Frankie, Mason, and Vin are already complicated enough. I don’t even want to think about Dimitri Gray with his icy blue eyes and snow-white hair. Shouldn’t Frankie have been jealous of what Dimitri witnessed? Unless…
Nope, not going there. Not today. Not ever, if I have my say. There’s only so much a girl can take before she finds herself a nice corner to rock back and forth in.
I continue to sway to the music, lifting my hands in the air, when I feel a sharp pang in the center of my chest. I don’t know how to explain it, but I know innately that something is wrong. My gaze flickers to the bar, but Frankie is nowhere to be seen. All around me, I see sweaty faces and ecstatic grins as the patrons dance and grind against each other.
But no Frankie.
I push aside a particularly disgusting couple until I reach the booth we abandoned.
“Frankie?” Before I can get out another word, a rough hand grabs my shoulder and spins me around to face him.
He’s tall, almost two feet larger than me, with pasty white skin and sunken eyeballs. A ghoul.
“Don’t scream if you want your experiment to live,” he warns, his rancid breath making me want to gag. Still, I don’t fight him as we move briskly through the club and out a back door.
Only when we’re away from the thrashing bodies do I wrench away from him. “Where the fuck is Frankie?” I demand.
The ghoul nods behind him, and it’s only then that I realize we’re in an alleyway of sorts. A lone dumpster rests against the graffiti-covered wall. In the distance, I can hear the honk of cars and screech of tires, but we’re far enough away from the street that we’re obscured from view.
A moment later, Frankie is wrenched from around the corner, his head lolling against his chest and his arms captured by two unfamiliar monsters. One has both gills and feathers clamoring up the sides of his neck, while the other has icicles for hair.
They unceremoniously toss Frankie forward, and he rolls a few times before stopping at my feet.
“Frankie!” I cry, but before I can go to him, the ghoul grabs my hand and yanks me to a stop.
“We’re going to have some fun with you, vampire bitch,” he hisses, flashing a smile that showcases yellow teeth. Like all ghouls, they’re cut into keen points that look capable of tearing the skin off my bones with minimal effort.
“Go to hell,” I hiss, attempting to shake him off of me. I need to go to Frankie. I need to—
I let out a startled yelp when I’m suddenly pulled into a strong set of arms. When I attempt to fight, he merely applies a slight amount of pressure, his strength surpassing even my own. This newcomer must be a giant of some sort, if his hulking muscles are any indication.
The ghoul meanders in front of me, a hideous curl to his lips.
“Have you seen this?” he demands, thrusting his phone in front of my face. I stubbornly look away, refusing to give in to their twisted games, but the giant behind me grabs my chin and forces me to face the phone screen.
It appears to be a video of the Monster Capital, located in Romania. Vampires of all ages are gathered in front of the wrought iron fence, hurling obscenities at the stone-faced guards. Their words are garbled and indistinct, but their message is clear—stop treating us like secondhand citizens. As I watch, horrified, one of the vampires grabs a werewolf’s neck and snaps it, releasing a guttural roar of victory. He proceeds to lick the blood off his fingers with a fanged grin.
The ghoul stops the video on the vampire’s sneering face and puts it back in his pocket.
“Do you know what this is?” he hisses, lowering his head and peering deeply into my eyes.
“It looks like a protest,” I whisper. I can’t help but flick my gaze down to Frankie. He looks so still. Too still. Is he faking, as he did before with the headmaster? Or has something terrible actually happened to him?
“Your kind is an abomination,” he spits, and I absently wipe the liquid off my cheek. “You guys are already immortal. Why do you demand more? Why do you kill to get what you want?”
“I had nothing to do with that protest,” I say, my voice shaky.
“So you don’t believe vampires should get more rights?” He cants his head to the side, his milky white eyeballs sending pinpricks of terror racing down my spine. His question feels like a test, one that I don’t know how to answer.
“I believe vampires should have equal rights,” I try at last. His fist connects with the side of my face, and I stumble in the giant’s arms.
“They should have no rights!” he screams, looming over me. “Did you know that a vampire murdered my sister? Huh? Did you know that?”
For the first time in forever, terror rushes through me, rendering me immobile. I don’t think I could fight back, even without the giant’s arms around me. There’s something dangerous in the ghoul’s face, something unhinged. He won’t just bully me or taunt me like some of my classmates; he’ll kill me.
“There are thousands and thousands of vampires in the world—” I begin as he steps forward and grabs my arm, twisting it slightly.
“You’re all the same.” He reaches into his pocket and procures a copper-handled dagger. The blade glints menacingly in the tiny swath of moonlight visible. “You think you’re so much better than us, huh?” With his free hand, he reaches underneath my dress and cups my still bare pussy. I sob, twisting my head so I don’t have to see the malevolent sneer on his face. “Do you know what this is?” He brandishes the knife in front of my face.
I squeeze my eyelids shut, trying to imagine I’m anywhere else. With anyone else. Isn’t this the part of the story where a handsome prince comes and saves me?
Well, my friends, fairy tales aren’t real. Knights in shining armor aren’t real. If you want to survive, you have to save yourself. You have to embrace your inner monster and be the beast you hate.
“Leave me the fuck alone,” I growl, still keeping my eyes shut.
“This is a god-blessed blade,” the ghoul continues, voice awed. “One of the only things capable of killing a vampire. And…scarring one.”
He removes his hand from beneath my dress and grabs hold of my arm once more. Finally, I risk opening one eye to see him staring at my flesh intently, as if it’s a canvas and he’s a starving artist.
“Fuck you,” I say through gritted teeth.
His smile is slow, predatory almost, and causes my hackles to rise. “If you’re offering.”
Before I can gather my wits, he presses down on the inside of my arm with the blade. Pain—excruciating pain—explodes in my veins at the first stab of the dagger. I press my elongated fangs into my bottom lip in a desperate attempt to stop my sudden need to scream. But when he presses down again, a cruel laugh reverberating through him, I can’t contain the anguished cry.
“Violet…?” a drowsy voice murmurs. And then, more alert, he repeats, “Violet!”
I turn tear-filled eyes to see Frankie now standing, struggling between the two monsters that hold him. “Violet!” he screams again, the agonized noise somehow soothing my ravaged soul. Even amidst the pain, it’s comforting to know he cares.
Fuck, I’m screwed up, aren’t I?
“Please, stop! Do you want money? I’ll give you money! Fuck!” Frankie attempts to headbutt the icicle man, but the second monster quickly wraps an arm around his neck, cutting off his air supply.
The p
ain is lessening, replaced by a growing numbness. I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline disrupting my nerves or something else entirely, but I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. Each swipe of the blade against my skin is nothing more than a tickle.
My head is spinning wildly, and I can feel my vision begin to go dark.
“Violet!” Frankie screams again, face pale. The monster on his left backhands him across the face.
“Shut the fuck up, you fat freak.”
Blinding, incandescent fury rushes through me at his words, settling in my stomach like a ball of light. I want to grip it with both hands and give it a pull, but I don’t. I can’t.
After what feels like an eternity, the giant releases me and pushes me onto the ground. The ghoul stands over me, a cocky smile dancing on his lips. He leans forward to spit on me before straightening, scrubbing a hand down his chest.
“Remember this moment, vampire scum. Remember how hated you are. Of how hated you all are. Do us all a favor and go fall on a wooden stake.” He kicks at my stomach before nodding towards his friends, who reluctantly release Frankie. He wastes no time crawling towards me, tears blurring his eyes. His hand hovers above me, as if he wants to touch me but isn’t sure where.
“Violet! Fuck, Violet. We need to get you home, okay? You’ll be okay.”
Almost mechanically, I nod my head, but my eyes are fixated on the once-smooth skin of my arm.
My head swarms with indignation as I read the words now carved into my porcelain skin.
Vampire Whore
WE’RE both silent as we walk back to my dorm, Frankie’s coat once more draped over my shoulders. I’m trembling erratically, and my hand fumbles as I attempt to open the door.
“Let me,” Frankie murmurs, pushing it open and helping me inside.
My room looks the exact fucking same, so why does everything feel so…different? Maybe the room hasn’t changed, but I have. In a matter of minutes, I have grown years in age. Centuries, even. I’m no longer that scared little girl who wandered through life carelessly.
What I’ve been through…
That changes people inherently. It warps their very genetic makeup.
I drop Frankie’s jacket onto the ground, immediately staring down at my distorted skin. Those words glare back at me like an ominous promise and a reminder. It was so easy to forget that I was the most hated monster in the universe. That my father had a thousand more enemies than friends. Now, it all comes rushing back to me, like a bomb that has just been detonated.
I don’t cry. I think I used up all my tears in that alleyway, when a little sliver of my innocence was shattered into unfixable pieces. I feel like a ghost gliding through life, never being able to actually stop and smell the roses. Instead, I’m an apparition. A presence that lurks and never participates. I’m…nothing.
Well, nothing but a vampire whore.
“I have a potion that can make this disappear,” Frankie whispers hoarsely. He hasn’t moved from the doorframe, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I’ll start on it tonight, and it should be ready in the next few days.”
“No.” I shake my head once, and then again, more vehemently. “Not tonight.”
Still wearing my short black dress, I crawl onto the bed and underneath the covers.
“Violet?” Frankie takes one step closer as I extend a hand, pulling back the blankets.
“Stay with me?” My voice is a plea, nothing but a hushed murmur.
Without hesitation, Frankie crawls beneath the covers beside me and spoons me from behind. His scent surrounds me, comforts me, and somehow, tames the monsters in my head.
Still in his arms, I turn on the bed until I’m facing him, our noses touching.
“I’m so sorry, Vi,” he murmurs brokenly. It’s almost as if he can’t bring himself to speak above a whisper. As if the silence is a fine slate of glass already cracked and moments away from shattering. There’s something tranquil and serene about silence, though. It’s the secrets we carry, the demons we banish, the fears we hide. But it’s also the joy of a first love and the long nights buried beneath the covers, wrapped in someone’s arms.
“It’s not your fault,” I promise, lifting my hand to comb back his tangled curls. I haven’t even realized I’ve used my scarred arm until he pulls it towards his lips and kisses a path down the words. It stopped bleeding back in the alleyway—due to my vampire healing—but the scar will remain. Even if Frankie can make something to erase it, it can’t rectify the pain inflicted on my very soul.
“I promise you, Violet, that no one will ever harm you again,” he murmurs as his lips touch the final “e” of “vampire.”
I want to tell him not to make promises he can’t keep. I want to reassure him that I’m stronger than he believes.
But I don’t say any of that. Instead, I nuzzle his neck with my nose and whisper, “Hold me.”
Maybe with Frankie by my side, the nightmares will be kept at bay.
CHAPTER 20
JACK
I peer through Hux’s—my—eyes as he moves swiftly through the grocery store. He’s humming beneath his breath as he pushes the metal cart down the various aisleways.
This is so stupid, I deadpan as my rather cheerful brother stops in front of a chocolate display. He begins to grab items at random, dumping them into his already overflowing cart.
“The Google says this is the key to a girl’s heart,” he replies out loud, garnering the attention of a couple standing nearby.
Last night, Hux discovered that Violet was going on a date with Frankie, and now, he’s insistent he needs to go on his own date with the blonde bombshell. He did extensive research on—what he likes to call—”the Google” on how to ask a girl out. The website suggested flowers and chocolates.
Thus, we now have over fifty-five boxes of chocolates and three-hundred flowers of all types and colors in our shopping cart.
Dude, that’s enough! I exclaim as he adds another box of chocolate to the cart.
“We never know when my precious treasure is going to experience her Great Period and require chocolate for survival,” he dismisses. “Unless you want me to start cutting up body parts…”
No! We talked about this. No body parts. No maiming. No murder in the name of love.
“A little murder in the name of love is okay,” Hux murmurs absently as he continues to pore over the shelves.
We talked about this…
“No murder,” he sighs disappointedly. When he spins on his heel, I see an older woman staring at us with wide eyes, one hand clutching her cross necklace and the other raised to defend herself.
Hux smiles disarmingly at her before nodding his head subserviently.
“The great and powerful Google told me that chocolate and flowers were the key to a woman’s heart. Would you agree?” he asks, his smoky accent curling around her. She backs away a step, looking rightfully shell-shocked, before turning on her heel and waddling away. “That was rude,” Hux tells me. “The Google told me that it’s polite to say thank you for starting a conversation.”
For the love of…
It’s Google, not “the Google,” I correct, mentally face-palming myself. And you can’t just talk to humans like you would a monster. They’re far more…delicate than us. They require easing into.
“Excuse me!” Hux waves his hand erratically in the air, capturing the attention of a heavily-tattooed, muscular human. The man saunters forward with his hands in his pockets and a curious expression on his face. “Do you, my new human friend, require easing into?”
Jesus, no.
“Excuse me?” The man quirks one eyebrow, the curiosity on his face dissipating to be replaced by a dark expression.
“You’re delicate,” Hux states matter-of-factly. “And you’ll require me easing into you.”
“You motherfucker!” the man hisses, taking a lumbering step forward. I quickly wrestle with Hux for control of his mind. Not because I’m scared for my brother, but because I don’
t want to be arrested for first-degree murder this early in the school year.
Hux puts up a fight, but soon, I have him shoved in the passenger seat while I take the wheel.
“What the fuck did you say to me?” The stench of body odor and sweat saturates the air, so intensely that I can taste it.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize sincerely. “I thought you were my old buddy from college.” I rake my fingers over my scalp as I flash a sheepish smile. “You look exactly like him. It was an inside joke between us.”
The man continues to stare at me for a long moment, eyes hard, before he releases me with a disgruntled huff.
“Fag,” he seethes before continuing down the aisle.
Let me kill him, Hux asserts in my head. He’s a… What word did the Google say? A cumstain? He’s a cumstain.
Ignoring him, I push the cart to the checkout lane and quickly pay for the three hundred dollars’ worth of flowers and chocolates. My left eye is practically twitching when I procure my credit card and hand it to the older lady behind the register.
Only when we’re in the car, driving back to campus, do I dare speak out loud.
“You can’t keep doing this,” I tell Hux sternly.
Doing what? If he was here, I have no doubt he would be batting his eyelashes innocently.
“Hijacking my body,” I state firmly. “The last thing I remember is waking up in the morning…”
Hux is silent for a moment, too silent, before his timid voice reverberates in my head. You don’t remember us leaving the school?
“No.” I drum my fingers against the steering wheel. “I don’t remember anything.”
I have lived with Hux for the last few hundred years. For the majority of that time, I have taken control. The few times I allowed Hux free rein, I remained relegated in a tiny sliver of darkness in the recesses of our shared brain. I was still aware of my surroundings and time passing, but I couldn’t interact with anything or anyone. I wasn’t even capable of using my senses. We have never actually met before Violet—never had a true conversation. We would leave notes for each other to read whenever we swapped. Only with Violet’s appearance have we been able to communicate telepathically.