casually.
“How many others have you killed?” I asked.
He tilted his head a little. Still didn’t blink. Still a little too full of himself. If I had to guess, he probably had posters of Tom Cruise as Lestat on his bedroom walls, and probably a poster or two of Damon, too.
“You wanted to be a vampire all your life, and now, you are one, and you think it gives you a license to kill. Except, asshole, some of your victims are going to be friends with other people, people who are not really people, but say, your own kind.”
Finally, he blinked, and that might have been my greatest victory yet.
“You’re one, too,” he said, after a moment, piecing it together.
“Lucky for you, being a vamp doesn’t require an admissions test.”
“Well then, I am sorry about your friend. If it’s any consolation to you, she was delicious.”
“That’s a shitty thing to say about someone I cared about.”
“Then, that’s your problem, you care too—”
“Cut
The
Vampire Diaries
angst, asshole. This is the real world, and you just killed a friend of mine, and, I suspect, others like her.
And
, I suspect, you are going to keep doing this to people until someone puts you in the ground with a silver stake through your heart.”
He blinked again, and again, and I believe he saw that I might have been serious. And that he might be hip-deep in some serious shit.
“So, what do you propose we do?” he asked.
“I propose that
you
stop killing innocent people, for starters.”
“She was hardly innocent. She was just a who—”
“Don’t say it,” I said. “Remember that part about her being my friend.”
“You know, who are you? Fuck you, and fuck your whore friend. I just wish I hadn’t killed her so quickly.”
He was bigger than me. Physically, I had no doubt he was stronger. By how much, I didn’t know.
I’m not the oldest vampire.
Hell, I’m relatively new to this stuff, too.
Except… well, except I had some mad skills.
I saw the flame, and a blink later, I was by his side. He gasped and turned and reached for me. But I already had a hold on his arm.
The flame again, and this time, we disappeared together…
Only to reappear somewhere that I was very familiar with. In fact, I had investigated a murder scene out here… in the desert outside of Corona.
The
open
desert. Where there was no shade.
We both stumbled and fell. After all, we had been sitting in the strip club when we’d disappeared.
We stood up about the same time, although only one of us looked shocked and horrified and, well, hot as hell. His skin, I noticed, was already smoking.
I dusted myself off, pointed to the sun above, nodded, and popped out just as he lunged for me.
It’s good to be me.
Sucks to be him.
It was late, and I was waiting. Impatiently.
There were times when I didn’t like Nancy. In fact, if I added up all the time I had spent hating her, it would far outweigh the time I, well, tolerated her. But she had made the effort to see me, the effort to connect, and, dammit, there had been something there. A spark. I was sorry to see her go.
Whether or not the vamp in the desert had made it out alive, I didn’t know, but I doubted it. He was as good as dead, and I didn’t feel much sympathy for him at all. As to the entity within him, it would simply depart, only to find another host. A very sick circle indeed.
The entity within me, throughout the course of the day, had mostly settled back into the darkest corners of my mind, where she would stay, waiting for more blood, waiting for more pain, and waiting, also, for a special someone.
That special someone had yet to make another appearance, but I often sensed him nearby, watching me. Waiting for me. Waiting for me to… what? Come around, perhaps. After all, her special someone was special, indeed… none other than the Count himself. I just happened to like the guy, which made me question who and what I was all over again.
I checked the time on my phone again.
“How many others have you killed?” I asked.
He tilted his head a little. Still didn’t blink. Still a little too full of himself. If I had to guess, he probably had posters of Tom Cruise as Lestat on his bedroom walls, and probably a poster or two of Damon, too.
“You wanted to be a vampire all your life, and now, you are one, and you think it gives you a license to kill. Except, asshole, some of your victims are going to be friends with other people, people who are not really people, but say, your own kind.”
Finally, he blinked, and that might have been my greatest victory yet.
“You’re one, too,” he said, after a moment, piecing it together.
“Lucky for you, being a vamp doesn’t require an admissions test.”
“Well then, I am sorry about your friend. If it’s any consolation to you, she was delicious.”
“That’s a shitty thing to say about someone I cared about.”
“Then, that’s your problem, you care too—”
“Cut
The
Vampire Diaries
angst, asshole. This is the real world, and you just killed a friend of mine, and, I suspect, others like her.
And
, I suspect, you are going to keep doing this to people until someone puts you in the ground with a silver stake through your heart.”
He blinked again, and again, and I believe he saw that I might have been serious. And that he might be hip-deep in some serious shit.
“So, what do you propose we do?” he asked.
“I propose that
you
stop killing innocent people, for starters.”
“She was hardly innocent. She was just a who—”
“Don’t say it,” I said. “Remember that part about her being my friend.”
“You know, who are you? Fuck you, and fuck your whore friend. I just wish I hadn’t killed her so quickly.”
He was bigger than me. Physically, I had no doubt he was stronger. By how much, I didn’t know.
I’m not the oldest vampire.
Hell, I’m relatively new to this stuff, too.
Except… well, except I had some mad skills.
I saw the flame, and a blink later, I was by his side. He gasped and turned and reached for me. But I already had a hold on his arm.
The flame again, and this time, we disappeared together…
Only to reappear somewhere that I was very familiar with. In fact, I had investigated a murder scene out here… in the desert outside of Corona.
The
open
desert. Where there was no shade.
We both stumbled and fell. After all, we had been sitting in the strip club when we’d disappeared.
We stood up about the same time, although only one of us looked shocked and horrified and, well, hot as hell. His skin, I noticed, was already smoking.
I dusted myself off, pointed to the sun above, nodded, and popped out just as he lunged for me.
It’s good to be me.
Sucks to be him.
It was late, and I was waiting. Impatiently.
There were times when I didn’t like Nancy. In fact, if I added up all the time I had spent hating her, it would far outweigh the time I, well, tolerated her. But she had made the effort to see me, the effort to connect, and, dammit, there had been something there. A spark. I was sorry to see her go.
Whether or not the vamp in the desert had made it out alive, I didn’t know, but I doubted it. He was as good as dead, and I didn’t feel much sympathy for him at all. As to the entity within him, it would simply depart, only to find another host. A very sick circle indeed.
The entity within me, throughout the course of the day, had mostly settled back into the darkest corners of my mind, where she would stay, waiting for more blood, waiting for more pain, and waiting, also, for a special someone.
That special someone had yet to make another appearance, but I often sensed him nearby, watching me. Waiting for me. Waiting for me to… what? Come around, perhaps. After all, her special someone was special, indeed… none other than the Count himself. I just happened to like the guy, which made me question who and what I was all over again.
I checked the time on my phone again.
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