Beautiful Monster by Bella Forrest

that it was fully dark. I could feel my fangs surge forward in my mouth. The sun was set, and my transformation, subtle yet obvious, was complete.
                  “Amy is also HIV positive,” she said, softly. I felt something move in me; a twinge of sympathy for this bright young girl. And she was good, she had blown me and everyone else in the room away.  But it was knowing, looking at her as I gritted my teeth against the blood lust, that she would never tempt me, never be in danger at my hands, and never have to run from the room if a late night rehearsal was needed.
                  “How?” I asked, standing up to pace the room.
                  “Genetics. Her mother was infected, apparently.” Porsche looked over the form carefully. “She’s homeschooled…or rather, online schooled. Lives with her father, who is not infected. He’s employed as a chef at the school, and all of her work experience is also in the kitchens.”
                  “That’s right,” I remembered now, seeing her face in the hallway more than once.  Her father also came to mind, a tall, wirily man, with grey in his hair and an aura of sorrow about him . If he thought losing his wife was bad, he should try becoming undead and knowing everyone you love will be dead soon enough. I downed another shot, looking out the window as the town’s nightlife began to emerge. It hit me like a hammer, a warm feeling rushing over me. Already, I could feel the effects, the cravings ceasing a bit as the alcohol warmed my blood. That was one problem with being a vampire, I was forever cold, even during the day as a human.
                  Whoever invented the story that vampires were blood thirsty creatures all the time was clearly in the mindset of torture and angst. Only turning as the sun set was quite enough for me, I didn’t think I could stand for it during the day.
                  “I want her,” I said, turning to Porsche, who was already packing up the other files. I smiled ruefully. The girl knew me too well.
                  “Fine. I’ll put her information into the computer and have her called in the morning.”
                  “I want to call her,” I said, surprising her. “Myself.”
                  “If you can remember,” she smirked at me, as she finished putting everything away, and then stood up. Clad in leggings, with her red hair piled on top of her head, she looked every bit the successful dancer.
                  “You going somewhere?” I asked, feeling giddy with drink. “I thought I’d take you out to paint the town red.”
                  “Oh I see,” she replied, smirking, probably at the state I was descending into. “Literally?”
    God, she was beautiful. Despite it all, there was something in me that knew that if she wasn’t stunning, I probably wouldn’t keep her around.  That’s what you get when you spend years in Hollywood, frolicking with only the beautiful people.
                  Mind you, that’s also what got me into this mess to begin with. But tonight … tonight I didn’t care. We had worked hard for months to pull these auditions together, and now it was over, the choice was made, and we could relax.
                  “Literally,” I replied, reaching for one more drink. “I want to take my time tonight, find the best of the best.  Isn’t that what we deserve, after all? So hold my hand, hold me back …” I started singing and she laughed, heading for the bathroom.
                  “Ok, hold on, let me try to make myself presentable,” she replied. “I have an idea, there’s a carnival about two towns over, small little place, but will be populated with tourists. Everyone will be dressed up, and no one will notice a little chaos…”
                  “This is why I love you,” I said, deciding