Page 8 of Shut Up and Bite Me

They’d call me a creep and run off.

Shit.

My gaze falls to my lap as I sigh in defeat. It was a bit of a pipe dream anyway.

Something catches the corner of my eye, and I turn my head in time to watch a slip of paper float to the ground.

“Hey, you dropped something,” I say, rushing to my feet, walking over to the paper on the ground and picking it up. “Excuse me,” I say, trying to catch them, but they continue forward like they don’t even hear me.

Glancing down at the tattered paper, I see an address, scribbled beneath one word written in large letters—Culling.

October first, the night of the second bi-annual Culling of the year. Always held on the same date at the same stroke of midnight.

Finally, tonight’s the night, and so far, at least, it’s going perfectly to plan, and I refuse to let anything tarnish it now. But I’m not going to jinx it just yet; it hasn’t truly even begun. My staff has spent the last two weeks preparing my hotel for this very evening, and they did a phenomenal job.

“Sounds great, Harriet. I’ll see you shortly,” I say, ending the call with Harriet Bailey, one of our council members, as I lean against the cold stone railing of the stairs leading into the Barlowe.

The Barlowe, known for exuding opulence and meeting every dark desire…well, when it comes to interior decor, I mean. The halls, rooms, walls, and soul of the building are carefully dressed in the most delicious shades of red, black, and gold. No expensespared. Although, no expense could have truly been too high for me to afford when this place was built.

Money is such a fickle aspect of this world. You can never have enough, it seems. Your tastes just get richer.

Although, I cannot speak for everyone. I haven’t shuddered at the cost of anything for many decades. But I suppose that comes with the territory of being nearly two hundred years old and forever possessing the beauty of a woman only twenty-three years of age.

I have seen a lot in my time, more than I’d like, if I’m being honest. Yet, it is only the beginning of my lifetime. I still have forever to go. Quite literally.

But I don’t take my time for granted. I savor every moment possible, especially nights like tonight where all of my hard work comes to fruition.

The High Council exists for the sole purpose of overseeing the Cullings and ensuring that all rules are followed and fairly enforced amongst the vampires. The High Council consists of five members.

Harriet Bailey, thirty-two years old—well, in human-appearing years, or HA, at least. However, she’s been thirty-two for the last twelve years.She heads the communication between the lower councils and us, often staying behind the scenes or traveling to the other districts.

Then we have Ava Hart, twenty-nine years old in HA years, which she has been for fifteen years. She is one of the few people in this world I call my friend. She’s the one who people go to with concerns and complaints.

Jason Belmoore. Fifty-two HA years old. Seven years as a vampire. He’s sweet as sugar and offers a helping hand to anyone in need. He handles our finances and has also auctioneered the last nine Cullings.

Skylar Jane. Eighteen HA years old. She’s been eighteen for the last ten years. She’s a spitfire who has no issue speaking her mind and reading others’ minds. Which is a very valuable skill as our resident sheriff, checking in on the other councils to ensure they are following the rules.

And then there’s me. Vivian Barlowe. Twenty-three HA years. I’ve been twenty-three for the last one hundred and forty birthdays.

My role in the High Council is to observe, oversee, and enforce. I observe the community around us, ensuring that our secret stays a secret, the exception being the humans that participate in the Culling. But they understand the rules of the agreement. If they spread the knowledge of our existence, any money they earn will be taken and they may face more severe consequences. Participating in the Culling is a privilege, one I will quickly revoke to those who don’t respect it. I also enforce the rules we have set, dishing out the punishments that are agreed upon by the High Council. Punishing the vampires who have no regard for human life don’t deserve my mercy and they don’t get it.

Before my twenty-third birthday, I had no idea that the stories of witches, werewolves, and vampires were derived from real life, a lot of them created by the paranormal factions, to hide their truth in plain sight, at least half of it. It’s easier to control the narrative if you write it yourself. They filled the stories with lies and superstitions that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Unlike the movies, vampires aren’t created through a simple bite. It’s far more complicated than that. There is only one way for a human to change and for it to happen, they must be willing.

There is a lot our bite can do. Feeding, sucking blood from the body, is just the beginning. Our fangs possess venom, each vampire creating its own unique strain. If a human is willing toaccept our bite, then we simply inject a lose dose of our venom into their system. Enough to get the job done with the least amount of pain.

But once that’s administered, the human must die to fully change. Our bodies still work like before. Our heart beats, blood courses through us, and we seem normal. But we’re faster, running quicker than the human eye can keep up with. We become insanely strong. Depending on who we were as humans, we may have manifested a gift, although it’s incredibly rare.

On my twenty-third birthday, I was attacked by a man who couldn’t take no for an answer. I was attending the theater with a few of my friends. After the show, when we were walking home, we were approached by three men who wanted to take us home and have their way with us. We had no interest, and they had no care. At one point during the attack, I became unconscious and when I came to, my friends were dead. At first, I thought I was too, that I was dreaming when a woman swept me into her arms and asked me if I wanted a second chance at life, one that would last for all eternity. I said yes and here I am one hundred and seventy-three years later.

It’s weird though. It doesn’t seem like I’ve been around that long. It feels like it was yesterday when I became a vampire. As if I blinked a little too hard and time traveled to this moment. I definitely don’t feel that old, that’s for sure. I feel like I’ve lived…maybeeighty years.

But when your body doesn’t age and everyone treats you as you appear, it’s easy to live that way. Plus, I don’t mind the free drinks when I go out and get hit on.

My dress flies behind me from a strong gust of wind, and shivering goose bumps break across my entire body, stretching from my perfectly styled updo to my black pointed heels.

The air is electric tonight, my skin buzzing beneath the glowing stars and moon. I don’t know what it is, but I feel…on edge, like I’m mid-gasp, holding my breath and waiting for whatever it is to come.

---