Page 37 of Accidental Vampire

She began sorting through the stack of clothes, shaking out a pair of worn jeans. She held them up and closed one eye as if measuring them against me.

“You seem the baggy jeans type. These might be a little snug.”

I put down the stack of towels and ignored the jeans she offered. There was a t-shirt, zip-up hoodie, bra and panties. I frowned. They were clean, but no one wanted to wear another woman’s panties. I inspected the tag on the bra, that at least should fit.

“You’re welcome.” Aurora said brightly.

“You’ve kidnapped me and are holding me hostage, and you want to me to thank you for giving me clothes. Do I have that right?”

She put on a pout. It was a show, but not for me. Lachlan didn’t seem to notice the subtle cat fight that was brewing.

“When can I go home and get my own clothes?”

“Well, why don’t you get dressed,” her eyes gave me a once over, her smile saidyou are the dumbest bitch on earth, “and join us down the hall when you’re ready.”

Lachlan opened his mouth to respond and Aurora intercepted him with a caressing hand around his waist, using that to pull him a step toward the door. He didn’t move.

“She doesn’t need your help puttingonher clothes.”

I frowned at the reminder that he has already seen me naked. Fuck my life. When was the last time I shaved? Do vampires need to shave? Another question for the list. He gave me a soft smile over his shoulder as he closed the door.

I dropped the wet towel to the floor. The plopping sound it made seemed too loud to be real. Nothing seemed to be real. I wrapped a fresh towel around me and bent to pick up the wet one. No. Screw that. Little Miss Perky Tits could clean up after me.

I grimaced as I pulled the panties on. Unmentionables, clean or not, were not meant for sharing. They fit fine, but I couldfeelthem on my body. Like all my nerve endings were reaching out to shake hands with the stretchy fabric. I could feel everything. Water rolling down my body, the rug on the soles of my feet, the hair on my arms. I hoped this was something you got used to, and it faded away. I wondered what it would feel like if he…

I scrunched my face up and slapped myself. I was already horny, I didn’t need to push myself over the edge with ideas in my brain that I did not want.

Once dressed, I put my hands on my hips and surveyed the room. I wasn’t going to join themdown the hall, whatever that meant. I was going to sit here and brood. That’s what vampires did, right? They were all broody.

There was a giant bed in the room, at least a king, if not bigger. A little seating area with mismatched chairs and sofa, a coffee table that had one duct taped leg. I unashamedly rifled through them the two dressers in the room and found some sweats, a pullover, all men’s. This seemed like it had been a dude’s room at some point. There was a battered copy of “Interview with a Vampire.” Was that some kind of sick joke?

The night stand was next. It was littered with what seemed like the contents of pockets. There was a receipt from a bar. My eyes popped at the amount it was drawn up for. The wallet had an alarming amount of cash in it. I thumbed the stacks of hundreds. I was broke, but I wasn’t a thief.

There was a knife, too. Maybe it was a dagger? It was old, like actual old, not a reproduction. Silver? Did silver kill vampires? The blade looked really sharp. I thought about testing it on my finger, but shook my head and dropped it back in the drawer. I took the paperback to the couch, stepping over the pile of wet towels. I could use a refresher on vampires. I absolutely would not go out there and socialize. I was going to sit here and read like this was all normal.

TWENTY-SEVEN

LACHLAN

I stood with my back to the wall. Aurora was in the thick of it, joking, laughing, biting with the outcasts. Aurora kept trekking into the city to spread rumors I was on a proper bender after the stunt with the Warren look-alike. Laying it on thick too with tales of “sexcapades”. The rest of the time, she was making herself the central focus of the room of outcasts.

Outcasts. Their term, not mine. We had been here a day or two. I think. The passage of time seemed to be measured in blood lust.

Tiffany wasn’t progressing. She wasn’t waking up punching anymore, so maybe that was progress. She wasn’t drinking. That was the problem. She let herself get so far into thirst that it tripped blood lust. Then she’d burn herself out. I was constantly picking her up off the floor.

I worried about concussions. It was the one injury that seemed to linger with us. She didn’t complain of headache, good sign. But she was still blacking out, wasn’t she? Those kinds of episodes should be decreasing and they weren’t.

I claimed this corner of the room as my own. They called it the Rec Room. They kitted out this old warehouse in to a communal living space. There was fitness equipment, couches, and comfortable places to sit. A wall of open work steel bars was behind me. The bars were spaced, big enough to get an arm through, but not a whole body. On the other side, there was what looked like a traditional living room. Couches, coffee tables and a small dinette. Why they would have a living room behind bars was beyond me.

They were outcasts, after all. Maybe this is how they all lived?

Shunning is the only effective behavior modification tool when you don’t die. It’s rare that someone gets kicked out of a Family. Never gave much thought to where those poor souls ended up. Guess it was here.

The rest of the massive room was paneled in wood. I’ve been chipping at a shattered plank for the better part of the last hour. It wasn’t real wood planks, but wood pulp, shredded, glued back together and pressed flat. I had never seen anything like it. It lacked any sense of warmth.

I wasn’t too sure if we were underground, it didn’t much matter. There were no windows. Tiffany’d be safe enough. Sunlight didn’t kill outright, but it did weaken you, especially in your first dozen years or so. I remember Saint caught me out at noon a few months after I was made.

I frowned.

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