Vida Nocturna Part 18

A magnificent throne. The crowd of lower vampires reverently parts, allowing her to move unimpeded through the ruined temple and take her place there. Her rightful place as their queen.

Even those who had once lorded over her now bow deep as she seats herself.

Endless blood. She gorges on it, allowing her subjects to feed from her, an endless wave of pleasure as countless souls pa.s.s through. And still there is more.

The children come. Her children: a new breed. Thousands of them, their steely eyes taking in the room, the crowd, the throne. They are the new vampire ruling cla.s.s.

She watches, laughing to herself as they consume the old guard vampires, taking flesh as well as blood, reducing them to nothing. Neil and Cameron are effortlessly pulled apart, their skulls crushed like eggsh.e.l.ls between the children's spiky fingers. The children feed and feed until Sara is the last remaining of the old breed.

And they turn to her.

"Two eighty," she shouted over the music.

The kid handed her a stack of bills and tried to take the bag. She knocked his hand away. "Hold on, there, sport. Gotta count it."

"Oh, right." The kid watched sheepishly as she did, then turned nervous, staring at something over her shoulder. "Um, listen," he said. "Could you hurry up? I-I-I've got someplace I gotta be.

Who's coming? Neil? Her head snapped over her shoulder, ready.

Benny Downer. The kid was afraid of Benny Downer, not Neil. She finished counting as the kid squirmed, releasing the eight-ball when she was sure.

She turned as Benny got closer. His attempt at a smile made her feel cold but she managed to look into his poisonous eyes.

"Liked that base you had," he said. "That rock. Some fine s.h.i.t. They be easy to sell, them rocks. How you make that s.h.i.t. Baby?"

"I don't know how to make 'em," she said. "I got 'em from a guy I know. Can you trade me for some pills?"

"Oh, yeah. And tell your friend I wanna meet 'im."

"He won't meet anyone. But I can pick up as many as you need."

"Yeah? I want a lot. Tomorrow."

"I'll get 'em. What you want? Like, ten or something?"

"Naw. Like maybe a hundred tomorrow. Then maybe a thousand next week. Tell your friend I give 'im five bucks a rock."

Cameron stared at her from over by the bar. Neil had to be close by, hidden in the shadows.

"Um, excuse me?"

Her head snapped toward the voice, which had seemed to come so clearly to her ears over the club's music. It was some suburban rich kid in a b.u.t.ton-down shirt. He glanced from side to side. "Are you ... Morticia?" he asked.

She narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"

"Um, someone said if I was looking for some blow, I should talk to Morticia. They pointed at you."

She sighed. "Okay. Sure I am." This guy was skinny and had the glow: definitely on c.o.ke. Her eyes flicked over Cameron, who was puffing out his cheeks as if to say "You poor, stupid b.i.t.c.h." She looked back at the kid. "Whatta you need?"

"Just, you know, an eight?"

She nodded, reaching into her purse.

"Whoa," he said. "Um, not here, okay?"

"What?"

"Uh, you know. There might be cops or something. Can we go outside for a minute?"

"f.u.c.k you. I'm not going out there. Go waste someone else's time."

"No, no, really," he said. "They watch this place now. Cops are everywhere. Please?"

It might be true. Cops were starting to come into the clubs these days. And it was uncomfortable to deal with Cameron staring at her, anyway.

But what if they put him up to this? What if he's the bait for me to go into some trap?

But she could feel the eyes on her. From Cameron. From Neil, wherever the f.u.c.k he was. Maybe from cops, too. "Alright, kid. I'll go outside. But I'm not following you. You'll have to come to my car with me. And show me the money now."

He showed her a big roll of bills. They left the club, walking in silence down the street and around the corner to where she'd parked. She scanned the doorways and alleys and behind the Dumpsters. There was n.o.body hiding, n.o.body waiting to attack. The kid probably didn't talk because he was inexperienced, too nervous. Or maybe just shy. Sara had a faint, obscure memory of what it felt like to be that way.

The kid kept twitching and wiping his palms on his pants as they reached the Benz. Sara unlocked her side first, watching for an ambush. She slid in and then reached across to unlock the pa.s.senger door. He got in, pulling the door mostly closed but not making it latch.

"So, an eight, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Two-eighty," she said.

"Two-eighty? Everybody else is going two-sixty."

"Well, I'm going two-eighty. If you want it from somebody else, get out of my f.u.c.king car."

"Okay. Two-eighty."

She fished in her purse for the eight-ball, feeling the sizes of the different bags. Finding one of the larger bags, she pulled it out and held it up for him to see. "Two-eighty," she repeated.

He grabbed the bag from her and swung the door open. Sara grabbed for the bag but he blocked her with his shoulder.

With a cry, she dove across the seat after him, snagging a fistful of his clothes to slow him down, but he kept going, lunging from the car, yanking her to her feet as he stood up.

He shrugged her off and took off running down the sidewalk. Smart - he ran away from the main street, towards the safety of the greater darkness. Sara chased him, her heart pounding, blood thrumming behind her ears.

Catch him! The thought appeared as text in her mind, white letters on black. Catch him and beat him with your bare hands.

He was fast. She couldn't catch him. But he had her c.o.ke.

Catch him! Rip his f.u.c.king eyeb.a.l.l.s out. Grind his face into the pavement. Punish him!!

He was still getting away, with an eight-ball that was worth a h.e.l.l of a lot of base hits. One missing eight ball would f.u.c.k up her equilibrium and send her spiraling straight to h.e.l.l.

She slid her hand between the leather and the lining of her bag as she ran, finding Joe's gun. She raised it and fired, surprised by the kick.

He stumbled but did not fall. Her super-sensitive eyes did well in the darkness but it was impossible to tell where she'd hit him - or even if she'd hit him at all. He flailed his arms as he ran but it wasn't clear whether it was out of pain or fear. Her legs kept pumping as she pulled the trigger again and again, until she saw his body collapse to the sidewalk.

Sara ran up and took back what was hers. The usual numbness in her left arm was more p.r.o.nounced now, extending all the way to a tightness in her chest. Her last shot had hit the kid in the head, entering at the base of his skull and removing most of his forehead where it had exited. Tucking the gun and the c.o.ke back into her purse, she walked quickly back toward her car.

CHAPTER 13.

Repurcussions HER BARE TOES curl against the cold concrete as he lightly slaps one nipple over and over. Her hands hold the curtain rod separating the dark entryway from the hot red glow over the drying base. They are not tied, but he has told her to keep them there.

She lifts onto tiptoes as he slaps her behind again. Already it burns, just from his hand. He takes off his belt.

The pause again. There is always a pause when he takes the belt off. That way she can never tense up or prepare herself.

The strike pops against her flesh, spreading through her like lightning, another on top of it, and another.

This is what happens when you are bad.

Again and again, all over. Sometimes in the same spot, sometimes in a different place. He comes close, whispering in her ear: "How's your a.s.s feel?"

"Hot," she whispers back. "It burns. It stings."

He laughs quietly.

She pants. "Do it," she says. "Make me feel it. Take what you want. When I feel the pain you give me, I know I'm not alone in the universe. It's not just a dream. Hurt me. make me bleed!" She whimpers. "Make what's inside come out and prove I'm alive. Do it."

His hand appears around her throat, tightening, shaking, choking. "Don't tell me what to do!" he shouts into her ear. Her vision goes gray and her mind explodes into a black nothingness as she o.r.g.a.s.ms.

"Wait," Josh said, stopping at a shady spot on the sidewalk. "Now I'm not allowed at your house, either? What'd I do to your crazy mom?"

Sara took a deep breath. "The way she sees it, it's like ... okay. To my mom, Angie was wrong when she said all that about taking me to the hospital."

"But she wasn't wrong."

"I know. But my mother doesn't know that, right? So to her, Angie was wrong. And Angie is my friend, so then Angie must be a bad influence on me, see?"

Josh c.o.c.ked his head. "I guess. But it's pretty f.u.c.ked up."

"Yeah. Well, anyway, so I made friends with someone who is a bad influence, right? So to my mom that means I always pick the wrong people to be friends with. It's just the way she looks at the world. Everything is either all good or all bad, glorious or terrible ... and even that changes depending on her mood. So since she's p.i.s.sed off, and you're my friend, then you must be a bad influence, because that's who I choose for friends: bad influences."

Josh gave a slow whistle.

"Really," Sara said, "it's just to punish me for having a friend who would dare challenge her. But she has to put this spin on it like she's doing it for my benefit, you know? And then she believes her own bulls.h.i.t."

Josh sighed and started walking again. "Wow, Sara. That's pretty wild."

She took his hand in hers. "Don't worry. I'll try to fix it. Once she realizes how much I need you, she won't dare keep you away."

Josh pulled the hand away, reaching up to adjust his backpack strap. "Uh, well, I don't know. I guess we should probably get used to seeing less of each other, with us all graduating in a couple weeks."

Sara gaped at him. "How can you say something like that?"

He started walking again, looking away.

"I ... I mean, we're going to be living, like, a thousand miles apart soon," he said.

"Thanks to you and your stupid Columbia!" A few tears fell to the sidewalk between her feet. "Why can't you just stay here with me? Why are you doing this to me? To us?"

Josh didn't speak for a few steps. "I ... I guess maybe I feel like I need a little s.p.a.ce to grow up, you know? Like, to be better for you, right?"

"You don't have to be better for me, Josh. You're just what I need; you're the one I can count on. But now I feel like you're just trying to pull away from me as far as you can. It ... it just isn't fair, Josh. You can't do that to someone who loves you as much as I do. I need you. I knew right away we were meant to be together. You said you did, too."

Josh stayed quiet again.

Sara's voice rose in pitch so even she could barely hear it. "You don't? You don't love me? Josh, please. Please don't do that. I love you. I need you. Please, just say you'll try, okay? Just say you'll try."

Deep inside her, a presence writhed in the darkness. I need a little s.p.a.ce to grow up.

He slowed to a stop. She caught up, taking his hand in hers, reaching up to stroke his hair, stretching to kiss him. He wiped her tears away. "Yes, Sara." He exhaled- Sara couldn't tell if it was a sigh or just a deep breath. She snuggled close to him. He still liked her body. It could convince him.

"Of course I'll try," he said. "I'm going away to school, but we'll still try to make it work, okay?"

The rain sheets down the window, obscuring all but the brightest of the lightning flashes outside as she peeks out. She sees nothing.

But they see me. They know. They know I'm one of the killers, the murderers, the d.a.m.ned.

They always watch. It's what they do. They watch and watch and watch and watch until you're out of your mind and you can't think and you can't go out and you can't ever be anywhere because you know they've got cameras and video stuff and they watch and they wait and they'll get you, Sara, they'll get you and you won't even know who they are. They'll get you and you'll never see them coming but they'll see you because they can always see you because they watch you.

And the c.o.ke is here. And the c.o.ke gives you the power but it also makes you know they're watching and it gives you c.o.ke bugs that bite you and bite you and crawl up into your brain to punish you and make you sorry forever because that's what h.e.l.l is like, bugs in your brain, that's what it's like. And even when you're a full-fledged vampire you still have to be afraid because the fear doesn't die with the rest of you.