Page 21 of Fratelli: Eternal Bloodlines

The connection he had with Dolly faintly returned as he fed. He could still feel her beating heart, faint but present, providing him with the will to go on. She was there, just beyond his reach. His mental powers over her diluted ones within his veins strengthened him. He needed to be strong for her, to protect her at all costs.

Chapter 9

The Changes

Las Vegas - Nevada

April 17, 2018

(4 Days Before Death)

The Uber driverslowed to a stop. Sonya felt everything, including the vehicle’s suspension adjust as the car approached the curb to parallel park. She heard the front passenger door open and shut. Despite it all, her eyelids were so heavy she couldn’t muster the effort to open them.

Years ago, before she got into the game, Sonya worked at some of the worst clubs in her city. Taking off her clothes was the least of her worries. Every night was a struggle, fighting off predators trying to tear at her and steal her soul while she pushed the limits of her exotic performances and sexual services. When once asked by an ex-boyfriend who wasn’t into the life she lived why she got so deep into the sex worker business, she shared her story.

One night, someone invited her after a college party to go with them to a private party. Her friend told her she could make some side money. She was a freshman in the local college andmoney was tight. Of course, she knew girls who hustled to get what they needed, but she never thought of being one. It was always the private parties that girls had to be wary of. She went to only support her older friends who were dancers. One of the customers paying for the entertainment slipped a Molly into her bottled Pepsi—a psychoactive drug that when taken distorted her perception. Before that night, she had never even tried marijuana. She had never done many things before that night. It changed her life for the worse.

Thankfully, the drugs had dulled her memory of the events that occurred. Physically, she had to undergo a battery of STD tests and recovery. Mentally, she never knew how to heal. What she remembered were the days that followed. How she struggled to recover and lingered in a fogged state—awake but not awake. That was akin to what she felt now. It was as if her mind had not slept or rested in weeks. A strange mix of sedated awareness, but increased sensory perception.

The blare of horns, the shouts of vagrants arguing, and the stench of gutter sewage, dried vomit, hot garbage, and fried food from a street vendor’s cart assaulted her nostrils all at once. Physically, she felt adrenaline pump her heart faster and faster as if she had just finished a marathon. Her arms felt strong, and her legs were taut with the muscular strength she once had when she spun upside down from the poles in the club. Now retired, she had collected some weight and a few stretch marks instead. Sonya itched to pull down her jeans to check her thighs, to see if what she was feeling was real. She couldn’t explain it.

At the Vegas airport, after they landed, Sonya kept glancing at her friend Charmaine. Charmaine looked different. There was a glow and feminine softness to her that most women achieved with makeup and pampered lifestyles. Charmaine's lashes were naturally longer, not the falsies she was known for. Her lipswere blushed and plump, her skin radiant, and her body fit her clothes in ways that defined and set the standard for curves.

The strikingly natural beauty change turned heads when she walked by. And she barely noticed. Charmaine smiled differently, too. Each time she smiled at Sonya, she felt her own anxiety ease. And then there was the freshness of it all. A perfumed scent came from her naturally and stirred whenever she made an abrupt move, entered, or left a shared space. This would not have been so odd to Sonya if the memory lapse between the forest and the airport had not occurred. During their time in the swamp, they had been dirty and unbathed, with tangled weaves and exhaustion beating them down. Yet, they walked through the airport as if they had just left a spa.

For Charmaine, it was equally strange. With her sensory overload causing anxiety, she was wide awake and alert, and it made her jumpy. She smelled everything in the back of the car, from the musty seats, thanks to all the previous passengers, to the dog dandruff on the floorboards. She could even smell the half-eaten Egg Mc Muffin shoved into a McDonald’s bag under the front seat and the fumes of the city coming in from the air vents, which made her want to gag.

Throughout the ride, she kept with her nudges to Sonya. She pointed out the oddities of their experience, but her friend barely responded. Nzinga rode in the front seat with the driver and refused to respond. The only words she uttered were that they ‘would speak at the hotel’. The girls stopped asking her questions, and Charmaine secretly feared the answers.

“Sonya! Wake—wake up,” Charmaine said.

“I’m awake. What is it now?” Sonya groaned.

“Look!” Charmaine pointed.

Sonya pushed up from her slouched position and had to stretch her eyes to ensure her vision refocused. She leaned over Charmaine and looked out to the passenger car window at thehotel. The driver was out of the car and Nzinga was getting their luggage together.

“What. The. Entire. Fuck? Are youfuckingkidding me?” Sonya asked. She threw open the car door and went around the vehicle, fixated on the hotel with a look of horror on her face. She could not believe what she was seeing. “This bitch booked us. Here? Greenlee did this! Here, of all places!”

“Circus Circus,” Charmaine said, after she exited the car. “Isn’t this a kiddy hotel?”

“No. It’s a shitty hotel. This has to be the worst one on the strip,” Sonya groaned.

Charmaine and Sonya had traveled to Vegas many times for private parties involving adult entertainment. Sonya no longer stripped. She was an entertainment manager. One hundred percent legitimate. She hired the prettiest girls from New Orleans and southern Louisiana parishes to perform and entertain athletes, stars, and even politicians. She had only one rule—no sex on the job. This rule was fiercely enforced; the moment a girl crossed the line, she was fired, and the word was spread on the streets, stripping the former employee of any association with Sonya’s company.

Now, Sonya traveled to teach exotic entertainers the tricks of the trade in pole dancing, preferring only the most elite hotels. If there was a single person who knew the best and the worst of Vegas, it was Sonya. Charmaine braced for one of Sonya’s explosive tirades. Nzinga hadn’t noticed their reaction. She wobbled a bit when she walked and limped when she moved too fast. Charmaine suspected her breathing was labored by the way she kept coughing. Charmaine felt some sympathy for her. Sonya, however, narrowed her focus on Nzinga as if she were ready to attack.

“Maybe we can find somewhere else? I mean, I don’t want to stay here either. Shouldn’t we go to the hotel where Dolly is?” Charmaine asked.

“No. Probably not. Remember, Greenlee said the vampires could smell us. That we had to be careful in their presence. Maybe this shithole is so bad even those bloodsucking bastards wouldn’t dare stay here,” said Sonya.

“You think?” Charmaine shivered despite the heat.

Sonya put her hand to her head. “This is giving me a headache. I got to get some aspirin. I just don’t want to argue. Not about this. Forget it.”

“Forget it? But—” Charmaine said.

“Let it go, Charmaine, we got bigger issues to focus on.”

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