All of the small art studios had already closed for the night, leaving only a few late-night businesses open. I passed a studio showcasing an odd exhibit in its window, a wall of trash with a figure buried inside of it. I stopped, noticing the plastic eyes of a mannequin watching me. They reminded me of my own dead eyes, staring back from my reflection.
Suddenly, I caught the scent of something; a deep, musky, thick aroma with hints of warm beer and grease. I guessed it was human, but it wasn’t very appealing. Not like the succulent bouquet I’d enjoyed in the casino.
I sniffed the air, trying to discern where the scent was coming from. I remembered Lysander’s warning that I would not be the only one hunting this area. But he had said I would sense another vampire. Not really sure what that meant, I worried. Being so young, what if I didn’t know what the sensation was supposed to feel like?
Half scared of other vampires and half anxious about having to make my first kill, I shot nervous glances all around, checking to see if there were any other people in the area.
A group of men were standing in the alley between a tattoo shop and the small art studio. The scent seemed to be coming from their direction, but I wasn’t interested in attempting to attack their group.
I shoved my hands in my pockets and looked down at the pavement, walking past them casually, hoping that they wouldn’t notice me. A one-on-one confrontation was something I still hadn’t drummed up the courage for. And I was certainly not ready for four-on-one.
“Hey,
Mija
,” one of the men shouted “Hey, pretty girl, come here.”
Damn, they spotted me
.
I had really hoped to avoid them. A lump formed in my throat. My heart sped, beating hard against the wall of my chest. I took a deep breath, through my mouth and tasted their musky scent. It wasn’t all that appealing, but my mouth watered anyway.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here all by yourself?” one of the men called out to me.
I tried to ignore the man and turned down another side street. The beast in my mind begged me to turn around, but I wasn’t ready for this.
“
Mija
, I’m talking to you, come back here.”
Footsteps echoed on the empty street. First, only one pair; and then I heard the others. I guessed the man and his three friends were going to make this a group effort.
I groaned in frustration. Lysander’s plan was working a little too perfectly. As a human, I knew better than to walk this area alone. I would only come here during the First Friday art festival with a group and never stray from the main streets. Strength in numbers usually kept people from doing bad things to you, but walking out here all alone was just asking for problems.
This was exactly what Lysander wanted. He knew that by using myself as bait, I would easily nab an attacker: a criminal, someone deserving of death. Images of my previous attackers flashed through my mind again. Anger flared inside of me. These men following me were no better than those men the night before.
The beast in my head roared to life, egging me on. It whispered to me about my new strength and abilities. I should be able to take them on. I could take them on. It would be so easy. I shook my head, trying to get rid of the taunting thoughts.
Lysander’s plan was perfect. Of course, I doubt he expected me to attract four victims at once.
I stopped in my tracks, looking for a way back to Las Vegas Boulevard.
The beast might be ready, but a tiny voice, my subconscious, reminded me that I had never been in a fight before. I’d never hurt anyone intentionally. I wasn’t ready for this. I needed to find Lysander.
The footsteps sounded too close now, accompanied by drunken laughter. Running away wasn’t going to be an option. Like it or not, I was going to have to face them.
My stomach knotted as I turned around.
They stood fanned out around me, barely an arm’s reach away. Stained, yellow teeth greeted me from behind the first man’s mustachioed mouth. His beer-soaked aroma wafted to my nose. He stumbled, taking a step closer to me.
I jumped back in response. “Listen, man, just leave me alone. I don’t want any trouble,” I said in a clear commanding voice. It was more of a warning to my attacker than a plea for his retreat. I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but I knew if this man kept bothering me, I was going to do something I might regret.
“Oh, no,
mija
. No trouble,” he slurred his words. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t walk around all alone. It’s not safe here. Lots of bad men around.”
The group of friends laughed, exchanged high fives and bumped fists.
“Thanks, but I’m not alone. I’m meeting my… uh… boyfriend.”
Lysander, where are you? Help me!
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I had the sudden sensation of unseen eyes watching me accompanied by a strange warmth. It enveloped me in a comforting sort of way.
You can do this. You are strong
. I heard Lysander’s voice like a gentle whisper in my head. Some-how, hearing his voice gave me strength.
I looked into the drunken man’s eyes and tried to discern if he was really going to be trouble or if I could manage to get away without a fight. I sensed nothing, other than the fact he was drunk.
“I could be your boyfriend,” he slurred.
His friends continued their annoying laughter.
“Yeah, we could be your boyfriends,” they chorused.
“Last time, man. Leave me alone,” I commanded, balling a fist at my side.
Anger burned inside of me. I remembered the skinny man who had innocently asked me for directions before his big friend snuck up behind me and attacked. This man and his friends were no different. No normal person would have followed me alone down a dark street with decent intentions.
“Oh, c’mon, little lady, let’s have some fun.”
The drunken man reached out to grab hold of me, and I stepped quickly out of his grip, surprising myself with the speed with which I had moved.
He fell forward, arms wind-milling as he tried to right himself. His friends took this as their cue, reaching out to grab me as well.
Anxiety left me, replaced now with the need for survival. Primal instincts kicked in. I wasn’t going to be made a victim by these men.
A blur of outstretched arms reached to grab me. I fought back, throwing punches and kicks, moving with incredible speed and grace I had never had before.
A hand grabbed hold of my wrist. In a smooth, fluid motion, I twisted out of my would-be cap-tor’s grip, breaking free of his hold. I knocked back and threw a wild punch. My fist collided with the nearest face and I was rewarded with a loud groan of pain, and the unmistakable sound of bones cracking. My attacker fell to the ground, leaving three others still trying to subdue me.
I felt strong and powerful, knocking each man down as if he were a rag doll.
The man who had originally called out to me stumbled back onto his feet. He screamed obscenities and words in Spanish that I assumed were meant as insults. He lunged at me again.
Fueled by the need for survival and my unyielding hunger, I grabbed hold of him. Instinctively, I yanked at his hair, pulling his head toward me. I bared my fangs and sank them deep into his neck. Hot blood flooded my mouth. I savored the thick, honey-sweet elixir.
Pure ecstasy.
It was warm and smooth, filling my being with new energy. Drunk with this new sensation, I felt unstoppable. Powerful. I could stop bad people from doing awful, evil, vile things. This bloodlust had a purpose. If I was to be this creature, I would ensure my feeding helped to stop the unnecessary deaths of innocents.
Visions of the men who had beaten me fueled my rage. This man would not be allowed to go peacefully into the light. I wanted him to pay for what he would have done to me—what I had already endured at the hands of men like him. I wanted him to feel it all, pain and torment. I gnawed at his neck, and dug my nails into his dirty flesh.
He would pay with his last dying breath.
My victim moaned pitifully. His arms flailed. He beat against my back, struggling to get away. I didn’t flinch. My arms encircled his body and locked tight in a deadly embrace.
His heart thundered in his chest, pumping blood faster through the wound into my awaiting mouth.
I drained him, gulping his blood down like a refreshing drink on a hot summer day, until I heard the last pathetic thump of his heart.
Engrossed in my own personal victory, and drunk with this new blood, I failed to pay attention to the other three men.
Screams of “Vampire! Vampire!” echoed in the empty streets.
Instantly, it hit me. I was supposed to be discreet. Lysander had warned not to let others find out about us or the Acta Sanctorum would begin hunting us down.
I sprang to my feet, throwing the lifeless body to the ground, and took off after the other three with a speed I never thought I was capable of.
Thankfully, Lysander was true to his word. He’d kept a close watch on me and was already in pursuit of the escaping men. He quickly caught up to them and slammed one of them into a wall, knocking him out, and ran for the others. I followed close behind. In moments, we both overtook the two remaining men. Lysander took one for his kill and I gorged myself on the other.
We carried the bodies to the nearest dumpster and disposed of them, so as not to leave any evidence of our activities. As soon as I hoisted my victim into the bin, Lysander lit a match and threw it in. Thanks to a lot of debris, it quickly caught fire. I wondered if that would be enough to cover our tracks.
Before I could form the words, Lysander answered my unasked question. “It won’t cremate the bodies, but it should remove any traces of our involvement with their death. We must always hide our kills.”
I watched the dumpster ablaze with the victims of my first hunt.
Lysander pulled me close, his arms encircled my body. “I knew you could do this. You have a lot of strength inside of you.”
I leaned into him, still staring at the fire. “Thanks.”
“Let’s go,” said Lysander. “The night is calling.”
CHAPTER 8
* * * * *
Perhaps it was the alcohol content in my victim’s blood, or maybe just the relief that my first hunt was over. Whatever it was, my body hummed with energy. My senses awakened: lights seemed brighter, sounds were crisper, smells were more intense. Fresh blood coursed through my veins, and I felt the blissful lightheadedness of being drunk. I found myself dancing around as we made our way back towards the car.
“You have done well tonight,” Lysander praised as I twirled around him.
“What is this amazing feeling?”
“The energy of life.” He let out a small laugh as I stumbled, almost tripping over my feet. “You are drunk on pure energy.”
Lysander smiled at me as I floated around in my drunken state. There was no fear of discovery in my antics. Vegas was used to seeing drunks wander the streets, and my blood-drunk state would seem no different to any passersby.
Lysander didn’t attempt to hold or control me as we walked back through the casino to the elevators. The multitude of smells still enticed me, but my satiated state quieted the beast, making it easier to endure. By the time we reached the top of the parking garage, the lightheadedness had begun to dissipate.
I noticed a man standing next to Lysander’s SUV. Lysander must have noticed the strange man as well. His body stiffened and he held up a hand, motioning for us to slow our pace.
The man was well dressed, in a tailored, all-white suit. A black shirt peeked out from beneath his jacket, and two thick gold chains glistened at his neck. His outfit, though nice, appeared out of place on this side of town. Downtown was certainly not where the glitzy high rollers played.
A strange sensation overtook me. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and my skin flushed with goose bumps as we approached. I wondered if this was the sensation Lysander had spoken of before. I guessed the stranger must be one of us.
I scanned the stranger's face, looking for any sign of hostility, but it appeared blank of all visible emotions. The trademark blue-gray eyes confirmed my suspicion. He was a vampire.
Anxiety suddenly washed through me. I hadn’t planned on meeting another vampire this soon.
Did the screaming of my victims alert someone? Were we in trouble?
The stranger stood rigid like a statue, as if waiting for us to come closer. His long, slicked-back jet-black hair was neatly tied into a ponytail at the base of his neck. An abnormally long nose came to a point above his thin lips. I guessed he’d been turned in his early thirties. A few faint wrinkles crossed his large forehead, and there were tiny crow’s-feet at the edges of his eyes.
We came to a stop at the trunk of Lysander’s Jeep, leaving a comfortable gap between ourselves and the stranger. I turned my attention to Lysander. The angry look on his face told me he recognized this man and, more importantly, that he wasn’t happy to see him. That thought sent my anxiety level rising higher.
“Edmond…” Lysander said, nodding to the man standing at the head of his car.
“Ah, Lysander,” Edmond responded. “I haven’t seen you in quite some time.” He inclined his head to me. “And who is this pretty little thing you are with?” His voice carried hints of a French accent. I felt his probing eyes surveying every inch of me.
I cringed as his eyes moved up to meet mine, feeling a strange sensation, as if he were trying to read me, mentally sizing me up. I shrank back to avoid his stare, stepping closer to Lysander.
“Out here all by yourself, are you, Edmond? Kallisto let you off your leash?” Lysander taunted.
“I come on behalf of my mistress,” Edmond said, with an arrogant flick of his hand.
“Oh. She has you acting as her messenger boy now,” Lysander said, his lips curled into a sneer.
“No task is to menial when it comes to the Mistresses happiness. And I would do anything to make Mistress Kallisto happy,” Edmond retorted. “Perhaps that is why she favors me. She knows she can count on me to always be there at her side.”