Page 11 of Accidental Vampire

A girl was pushed into my arms. Her face blurred from tears that wouldn’t fall. She begged, twisting her blond hair away from her neck. She pulled me to her. I saw her mouth the word “please”. The crowd was roaring encouragement in my ears now. I grabbed her wrist and squeezed.

Fished the K tainted vile out of my pocket and popped the stopper with practiced ease. The blood had that peppery grassy taste of mortal blood. I pulled at her wrist until she stood on her toes. She panted with anticipation. I bit her wrist hard, fang hit bone, her screams dying in the crowd.

Not what you wanted, Pet? More bodies pressed into me and another wrist was in my mouth.

NINE

TIFFANY

What in theEyes Wide Shutdid I stumble into?

The woman, Nadine, installed me in this dark hallway with recessed lighting. She pointed to the cameras and said if I moved, she made a slashing motion across her neck. That wasn’t great. I wanted to back out instantly, but, $2000 to stand here and hand out scented towels? I could handle some weirdness. I’ve been to Folsom Street East. This was just rich people being eccentric.

This hallway reeked of the kind of taste that only comes from money, and lots of it. I strained to see down around the corners without moving from my spot. It was all done up in browns, from the rich chocolate carpet that just sucked up all the sound, to the wallpaper, that faded to a lighter cream toward the ceiling. The coat check room was behind me, next to what I was presuming was Nadine’s office. It was summer so there wasn’t much need for coat check. And from the few glances of the attendees of this party, they were barely wearing enough clothes to begin with. I wondered what the rest of the place looked like.

I could hear soft music, cheers, someone making a speech from the cadence of muffled applause, but then nothing. I looked down at the tray of mint scented towels I was holding. They were all still there like perfect parcels, just waiting to be of service. I kept trying to waft the mint scent towards me, hoping it would cut the patchouli. I really thought I’d be stinking up the hallway by now.

I should be doing more, right? More than standing here chanting “two grand, two grand” in my head. No. I had to keep reminding myself that I was done with the people pleasing and over achieving. No more going above and beyond. I was being paid to stand here and nothing else.

Now and then a couple would trickle past the end of the hall, doing that couple thing, nuzzling each other’s necks and searching for a place to get frisky. But that was it. Me and my little tray of moist towelette were neglected.

God, I wanted my phone. I had no idea what time it was. I wasn’t too sure how long I’d be required to stand here. I shifted from foot to foot. My flats were beginning to pinch. It had been a really long day. I had tucked my purse just inside the coat check door and left my phone with it so I couldn’t check the time.

I sniffed my shoulder again, worried that the patchouli scent would be overpowering inside. But the A/C was on full blast and all I could smell was the mint towels, anyway. I sniffed again. It was probably my imagination and being nose blind, but I would swear they were pumping in a vanilla fragrance with the air.

Cheers erupted through the walls. It jolted me and I fumbled the tray. I nudged a towelette back into place. The voices from the other side of the door were getting… I couldn’t quite describe it. The vibe felt like it shifted to a mix of spring break and the Super Bowl. I shook it off. I was being ridiculous. It was just a party with rich, pretty people.

I juggled the tray while I tried to sweep my hair back. The curls had long since gone flat, and it kept falling in my eyes. I went to set the tray down to pull it back into a pony, but thought better of it. It would be just my luck to have my first minty towelette customer when I was busy fixing my hair. I was just going to keep my thoughts to myself and stand here making stupid amounts of money. Oh! Tax free money! They were absolutely going to pay me under the table. I did a little money dance, excited to be committing tax fraud for the first time.

The cheers died down, and the music cranked up. I couldn’t hear the melody, just bass. It was that thumping kind that was either super annoying or hypnotic. Monique would be able to tell if it was House or EDM or techno or whatever. I was a Swifty. Yup, it was painfully basic, and I didn’t care. The music numbed out my brain. I almost felt like my pulse was matching the beats.

A door opened suddenly and music crashed in. A man walked through and pulled it shut behind him. He ran his hand up the jam, like he was making sure the seal was good and tight, keeping himself safe from whatever was on the other side. He rested his forehead against the door, collecting himself, hunched over with his palms flat. I shrank back into the closed door of the coat room. He seemed like he needed a minute to himself. I totally got that. One thing New York teaches you is to give other people all the mental space they need when they really need it.

He pushed off the door and staggered a few steps. He paced in tight circles with his hands on his hips, like he was walking off a bad conversation. He stopped abruptly, with a thousand-yard stare down the hall. I tried to make myself as small as possible. I didn’t want to interrupt whatever he was working out.

He was… shockingly attractive. He had that swimmer’s build, with wide shoulders and narrow hips. I half smiled, remembering something Monique said.You shouldn’t date a man whose jeans you couldn’t fit into.But what did she know? She didn’t date men. His face had that porcelain quality fair-skinned people with dark hair get. The kind of skin that burns to a crisp on cloudy days. He had full, very red lips. No. I squinted at him. They were swollen. He had a cut in his lower lip. Maybe someone decked him for hitting on the wrong girl. Or boy. Or whatever.

He turned and hit his pacing circuit again, this time rubbing his face or running his hand through his hair. Classic regret in that move. I had done the exact same thing the day I got fired; pacing back and forth in the busy lobby, trying to get up the courage to storm back into Dylan’s office. I had limped home instead.

He bowed his head and rubbed his chest like it hurt. I knew that move, too. That was heartbreak. Or grief. At the end of the day, they were both the same thing. When your heart hurt that bad, you’d do anything to make it hurt less.

He looked down at his palms, turning them over a couple of times as he inspected his nails, like they were dirty or something. I was transfixed by his hands. He flexed them and made fists, the knuckles going white. He grasped his left wrist and furiously rubbed a spot with his thumb. Maybe there was dirt, or a mark. Even from this distance, his skin was so pale, I could see blue veins cord up his forearms. He pushed his sleeve up further, slowly pumping his fist.

He fished something out of his pocket. Silver flashed in the soft lighting. It was a knife, like one of those movie prop reproductions from Lord of the Rings you could get as a letter opener. He twirled it between his long fingers, like he was using touch to contemplate mysteries. He changed his grip, how he was holding the knife, the tip pointing out, then in. His touch light, then choked the handle in his fist. He seemed to settle, having made a decision, like he figured out all the right moves. He rested the knife tip in the middle of his forearm and applied pressure, just to see how much it would take to break the skin.

Jesus Christ.

My heart stopped in my chest. I was all for giving people space, but I was not going to stand here and do nothing while someone hurt themselves. Oh god, while they tried to kill themselves right in front of me.Do something dummy.

A bead of red bubbled up on his skin. He moved the tip of the knife to a fresh spot. My heart thundered. I looked up and down the hallway. The party or whatever was in full swing, so it was a good bet the hallway would remain empty. Fuck it.

I held the tray closer to my body and licked my lips.

“Are you alright?”

His head snapped up and eyes so blue, they shouldn’t be real, they stole my breath.

TEN

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