Angeles Betrayal

by Michael Pierce

  I drove with Mom in her Volvo as we took the 5 Freeway toward Los Angeles. We hadn’t left until after dark, but even past rush hour, traffic into the city sucked. At least I wasn’t driving.

  I still wasn’t in a chatty mood, even though Mom tried to spark a conversation multiple times. After the third attempt, and me continuing to be unresponsive, she finally gave up.

  I didn’t remember which street we were supposed to exit for the derelict industrial neighborhood leading to the hidden gate to Fangloria, but once Mom reached the off-ramp, the surroundings became frighteningly familiar.

  Trash and rows of tents lined the sidewalks, unkempt characters staring at our car as we passed by. Then we came upon a duo of scantily-clad women pacing before a chain-link fence, but I knew what they really were. I couldn’t remember if they were the same vampires who’d guarded the entrance when I’d been with Aaron and Mallory, but they looked just as formidable. My arm was already tingling like crazy.

  Mom turned in toward the fence and rolled down her window. The voluptuous redhead at the driver’s side stalked up on icepick heels.

  “Good evening, Ms. Winter,” she said with a thick European accent.

  “Good evening, Vivienne,” Mom said. “Everything going smoothly tonight?”

  “So far… smooth as butter,” she said, leaning down into the open window to get a better look at who else was in the car, giving me a violating once-over. “Is this the daughter I’ve heard so much about?”

  “The one and only,” Mom said. “Fiona.”

  I gave a shy wave as the gorgeous vampire grinned, flashing a pair of glistening fangs, which had to be just for effect. “She looks too old to be your daughter.”

  “Thank you,” Mom said, probably blushing. “I get that a lot.”

  “You’re a lucky girl,” Vivienne said, flashing me one more sinister smile before returning to her full height and stepping away from the car.

  The vampire on my side remained back, oscillating her attention between us and the street. With all the homeless people hanging out on the sidewalks, no one approached or harassed the women, though I was sure it wouldn’t end well for anyone who did. I suspected word had gotten out among the locals not to mess with the girls on the corner.

  The fence opened, and we inched into the alley between several abandoned warehouses. I’d remembered the club being set back, located in another nondescript warehouse-like building. We reached the parking lot, already filling up with cars that didn’t belong in the neighborhood.

  I took out my phone, ready to put it in the glove compartment when Mom stopped me.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “Bring it with you. No pictures though.”

  “I thought—”

  “Security won’t let you in with one, but we’re not going through security,” she said with a sly smile. “We’re not members or guests, we’re owners.”

  “Oh,” was all I could manage to say as we stepped out of the car and headed toward the entrance. The line was already snaking around the side of the building.

  I didn’t feel dressed to be entering the place compared to all those waiting for admission, though that was mostly by choice, not wanting to get dressed up for a bunch of pervy vampires. Mom, on the other hand, was dressed to kill in a long black dress with a lacy top and long flowing skirt, slit up both thighs. With her by my side, no one would be looking at me.

  We walked straight up to the entrance, the burly bouncers patting down eager guests. Mom cordially greeted the staff, but she didn’t stop walking. When one of the men eyed me suspiciously, she said, “She’s with me,” and ushered me through like a true VIP.

  I thought I recognized the large man with long black hair, thinking he was the one who’d patted me down the last time—a little too enthusiastically if I remembered correctly.

  The pulsating music was loud, with a tribal, animalistic quality, growing louder as we entered the front hallway that led to the cashier and coat check.

  “If you look closely, you’ll notice security doors here and here,” Mom pointed out as we passed. “If there are any issues, the doors can be dropped to keep someone in, out, or locked between. With the amount of security we have throughout the club, they rarely have to be used, but they provide a comforting backup.

  “When you came here with those people from the Society, did you see the keycard?”

  I shook my head. “Aaron showed something to the vampire at the gate, but I didn’t get a good look.”

  “We have exclusive member and guest keycards for admittance,” Mom continued. “Members have personalized cards costing them a hefty annual fee—for the privileges of what we have to offer.”

  “A buffet of willing humans,” I said. “I get it.”

  “Don’t make it sound so sinister,” she said. “Every successful club is a buffet for someone.” She stopped at the cashier. “Can you hand me a guest card?” she asked, holding out her hand expectantly.

  Once Mom received a black card that looked like some luxury credit card, she passed it to me. “Guest cards are only used once per person—they’re collected here while paying for admission. They log the guest’s information we collect from their ID, so we can keep tabs on those interested in this kind of underground experience. Then we can follow up with them—find out if their interest was mere curiosity or a true love of vampires.”

  “Do the people know you’re collecting information on them?” I asked, admiring the weight of the card in my hands.

  “Everyone’s collecting information,” she said. “We’re not selling it to the highest bidder or anything, but it’s important to keep tabs on people interested in services like ours. Potential whistleblowers need to be silenced.”

  “Is silenced a euphemism for killed?” I asked, making sure to make my disapproval known.

  “Not necessarily,” she said, snatching the card from my hand and giving it back to the cashier. “Thank you.” Then she continued to coat check. “I think this is self-explanatory.”

  “Yes; I understand what a coat check is,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “Good,” she said, “Since you were already here, then you shouldn’t be surprised by the state of dress from some of the more experienced and exhibitionist patrons.”

  “I’ll simply avert my virgin eyes,” I said, and Mom eyed me curiously since that was something we’d never had a serious talk about. She’d given me the old birds and bees talk in junior high, but it wasn’t a conversation we’d ever returned to after I’d started dating Sean. But it was something I’d always been afraid was around the corner. It seemed she dreaded the conversation as much as I did because it never came.

  We entered the first lounge area, a place I remembered vividly. It was where Aaron had left Mallory and me, and where I’d met Frederick for the first time, not knowing who he truly was. Later that evening, I’d learned more about him, but still nowhere close to the whole truth. He’d brought up the picture on the wall of Damien Galt shaking hands with the President of the United States. Little did I know that he was revealing more to me than I’d understood at the time.

  I tried not to let my gaze linger too long on any of the couples doing everything short of copulating in front of everyone. But it felt different this time… As much as I didn’t want someone feeding on my blood, the passionate and sensual interactions were reminding me of my time with Matthew—of what he did to me and how he made me feel. Seeing all those enraptured couples made me yearn for Matthew’s hands on me even more; I craved his mouth on me, inching up my neck, his lips on mine, stealing my last breath. I longed for his body pressed firmly against my own, setting every precious nerve ending ablaze. The tingling had started in my arm from all the vampires surrounding me, but was now radiating throughout my body—which I didn’t think was simply from the compass anymore. I felt my skin flush as I gazed upon all those public, intimate moments and I thought about how I’d feel with Matthew teasing me in such ways right then and there.

  I tr
uly had to avert my attention and remember why I was here and how terrible this place was. Although seeing it again, I needed a little more convincing. It was very different from Sisters of Mercy.

  “There are seven lounges and six dance rooms,” Mom said above the thrumming of the music. “The bar menus have all the regular drinks and concoctions, but those who know to ask can buy a glass of animal blood—off the menu, of course.”

  “You don’t offer human blood, then?” I asked, my sarcasm probably going unnoticed amidst the noise.

  “We don’t offer it, the patrons do,” she said like it was the most normal answer in the world. “We can glance into a few of the rooms.” Without waiting for an answer, Mom began walking toward the next connecting room. “But there’s one room that takes the experience to a whole new level. I won’t take you there tonight; I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

  “And you’re afraid of that only now?” I scoffed. “What room is that?”

  “It’s called The Cellar. It’s by invitation only. Very expensive. It’s a sensory experience unlike anything else.”

  I remembered The Cellar all too viscerally. I guessed she still didn’t know the extent of my visit here. “I’m surprised you don’t have cameras here.”

  “Very good,” she said, turning back and smiling. “We do. Multiple angles in every room, so we know what’s going on at all times.”

  “Obviously not,” I said, but she kept walking like she hadn’t heard, and I didn’t feel like repeating myself. But then again, she may not have been counting The Cellar. For all I knew, it could be a darkroom—for a reason.

  I’d passed through several of the lounges and dance rooms when I was there last, so there wasn’t anything too surprising. The dance rooms were vast open warehouse spaces with glass roofs to let in moonlight and starlight whenever the flashing lights dimmed enough. The lounges, on the other hand, were smaller, more intimate spaces with arched ceilings and flickering lights on the walls, making the ambience cave-like.

  “We have promotional staff constantly on the lookout for humans curious of vampire experimentation,” Mom said as we passed through one of the lounges.

  “Wouldn’t that be all of them? Isn’t that the point of coming here?” I asked.

  “You’d be surprised. A good portion of first-timers are too nervous to approach on their own. They require a little extra encouragement.” She paused, looking over at the bar. “Would you like anything to drink before we go down?”

  I shook my head, eager to get it over with. However, she headed for the bar anyway, stepping behind the counter and returning with two bottled waters.

  Mom led me through another lounge, then through a velvet curtain with a sign overhead that read, Staff Only Beyond This Point. Beyond the curtain was a descending staircase just wide enough for people to pass in both directions. I got chills as we reached the sub-floor below. I knew we weren’t in The Cellar, but those were the images invading my mind.

  “This is where all the work behind the scenes happens,” she said as we snaked through countless storage rooms, prep areas, break rooms, and small offices.

  “Charming,” I said.

  We stopped at an unlabeled door with a large brass-colored deadbolt over its handle. Mom gave three quick raps and took a step back. I could hear the click of heels from inside the room, and a moment later, the door opened.

  A tall blonde in leather pants and a black corset top, barely concealing her rather large breasts, invited us in with a not-so-pleasant smile. Her gaze seemed disproportionately focused on me for some reason. She looked oddly familiar, but I couldn’t imagine where I’d have seen her before unless she’d been someone I’d encountered the last time, someone my mind subconsciously remembered.

  I’d expected to be entering an office, but instead, found myself in the middle of an expansive studio apartment-like suite, complete with a kitchenette and table set. Against one wall was a couch, where another exotic looking woman sat, with fiery red hair and a plum-colored minidress.

  Frederick entered from the en-suite. “Susan, Fiona—how wonderful of you to make it. Fiona, welcome back. I trust it’s a very different experience than last time. This time, you don’t have to worry about backstabbing colleagues.”

  No; I’ll probably be stabbed in the front this time, I thought.

  He approached Mom, leaned in, and kissed her on the cheek. “You always have a way of lighting up any room you enter.”

  His comment noticeably irked the other two girls in the room, but Frederick didn’t seem to care. I glanced back at the blonde, who was still eyeing me.

  “Do you have a problem with me?” I asked, figuring that with Mom here, I didn’t have too much to worry about. I guessed I was about to find out if she really had my back or not. At least I could tell the woman wasn’t a vampire—my arm was telling me there was only one vampire in the room—so I’d like to think I could take her.

  The blonde shrugged. “I don’t even know you. Why would I have a problem with you?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me. You’re the one staring.”

  “Get over yourself, honey,” she said in an incredibly patronizing tone, obviously thinking she was something special.

  Mom was glaring at her now too but didn’t say a word since the blonde wasn’t putting up anything more than a passive-aggressive fight.

  “Sweetlings, there’s no reason for arguing and animosity,” Frederick chimed in. “We’re all on the same side here.”

  I was afraid to think of what that same side actually was. I shivered at the thought of what I had in common with these obvious vampire groupies, doubting they had any real substance.

  “I have no animosity toward Susan’s daughter here,” the blonde said. “She was the one attacking me.”

  What, was she friends with Mallory Fiennes? The girl was taking moves right out of Mallory’s playbook.

  I simply huffed in response, figuring that furthering the argument wouldn’t be productive at this point. But—almost as if sensing my frustration—Frederick asked them both to leave.

  Neither girl put up a fight, yet they also didn’t look eager to exit. I expected the parting sour look from the blonde, but the redhead who’d been sitting on the couch looked just as venomous upon her departure.

  “I don’t like Taylor,” Mom said. “It’s obvious she has a thing for my daughter and I want to know why.”

  Frederick laughed in response. “You know how pretty girls behave. Another pretty girl invades her space and she gets jealous and territorial. I’m sure there’s nothing more to it. She’s obviously insecure.”

  I was tired of having other girls hate me for no reason—though I’d learned that Mallory had had a reason all those years, after all. I had only recently been brought in on the secret, which centered around Mom. And now this Taylor girl also seemed to hate me, and I was willing to bet Mom had something to do with that too.

  “Please have a seat wherever you’d like,” Frederick offered. However, he was gesturing toward the couch.

  I made it a point not to sit where the redhead had sat, so plopped down on the opposite side of the couch. Mom joined right beside me.

  “How’s Matthew?” Frederick asked, standing tall on the opposite side of the coffee table, a knowing smile brightening his face.

  “Fine,” I said, though the answer escaping my lips sounding more like a question. He’d already said he and Matthew were not on good terms and I wasn’t supposed to talk to Matthew about our interactions. But it seemed Frederick wanted me to spy for him, regardless. Well, no—I wasn’t going to do that.

  “Any interesting developments within the Society?”

  “Nothing I’m comfortable discussing,” I said, uneasily glancing over at Mom. The tingling in my arm suddenly became more apparent, like the tolling of a warning bell.

  “Okay…” Frederick paced a moment, then stopped in the same spot he’d been standing. “Perhaps we should just get down to business—why I called for y
ou tonight, why I asked to meet you in the first place. Why you’ve been under my protection since you were a young girl.” Frederick stepped forward, up onto the coffee table, then sank down to a legs-crossed seated position in its dead center. He rested his forearms on his knees and leaned forward as he began to speak.

  “Let me tell you a little story,” he began. “There was once a young boy who fell from the sky. He was from another world and another time, but he crash-landed here. The year was 1949—much before your time—and your mother’s too, I might add. I, on the other hand, was there and happened to be the first to discover him. He told me an incredible tale of the rise and fall of kingdoms, a wondrous future filled with names that would change the direction of the planet.”

  “I assume the boy you’re talking about is Matthew,” I said. “He told you all this?”

  “He did—though I know he regretted it shortly after. See, he was afraid. For all his talk of vampires, he’d never actually met one. Theory is a far cry from experience. He didn’t want to die, and as long as his story continued, the longer he continued to live. So, he kept talking.”

  “He told you about Damien Galt and Vampire Nation…” I said, starting to realize how these events—the future events we’d coveted as our exclusive secrets—were playing out. “He told you what was going to happen… the things that didn’t even exist in that time.”

  “Matthew planted the seed,” Frederick said. “He had the passion and conviction of someone who truly believed in what he was saying. I knew he believed it. And the story was just crazy enough to possibly be true. And so, I tested him.”

  “He told me he’d spent time in Sisters of Mercy… that you used to run the hospital.”

  “Yes; and who do you think put him there?”

  I didn’t have to guess; I already knew. “You.”

  “I made sure his time in there was as unpleasant as possible for as long as he wanted to resist taking me to the portal.”

  “But he never showed you…”

  “He remained true to his convictions and would never give in. His convictions only fueled my fire to convince him to give up his secret. I would find it. I believed it just as much as I believed I was meant to become Damien Galt and lead our kind into a new world.”