Chapter Six
Once the tension showed no sign of dissipating, Peter announced he was going to get a car. As he left, he muttered something about not being able to bear squashing himself into a backseat with me and Carl again. I chewed my nails in agitation while he was gone, worrying he wouldn't return. I lay on my bed and wondered about how much being my man slave was affecting Carl. Peter said the enthralled didn't last long, but I didn't know if that was because they kept getting drained or worse-their brains couldn't hold up to the mind control.
The good thing about worrying about Carl was that it distracted me from other things. Like what Eddie was, the fact he knew my grandmother, and his enigmatic mentions of a Seer. Then, of course, there was the little fact I was planning on walking straight into a vampire bar and pretty much demanding that a hungry killer do me a favour.
"Ava," murmured Carl, startling me out of my reverie.
"What's wrong?" I said, turning around to look at him. "Oh, shit."
With a dopey grin etched on his face and a sharp kitchen knife in his hand, Carl stumbled toward me, blood flowing steadily down his neck. I froze as he shut the door behind him, closing us into the bedroom together. The scent of his blood hit me, and all of a sudden, I was ravenous.
"Please, Carl, go away. You don't know what you're doing!" My fangs shot out-I couldn't help it. The cross around my neck had eased my thirst for a while, but an open vein in front of me undid all of its good work. Despite my pleas, Carl kept coming at me, not stopping until his body loomed over mine on the bed. I didn't know what to do, so I closed my eyes, put one hand over my mouth and screamed, pushing at him frantically. I felt his blood drip onto my fingers. Warm, vital and oh, so tempting. I'm bigger than this, I told myself.
"Get away from me!" I yelled, managing to push him back with my knees. It gave me enough space to roll over, and I hoped the blood wouldn't accidentally fall into my mouth. I was tempted, though-so much fresh blood, right there, going to waste. I ached for it, but I knew that if I started, I wouldn't stop.
"Come on, Ava," Carl said, pulling me over and onto my back with ridiculous ease. He was unnaturally strong, and it seemed as though the more that I backed away, the more he pushed.
Tears poured down my eyes as I fought wildly against the urge to lap his blood off my fingers. I clamped my clean hand over my fangs as hard as I could, and hit out blindly with my other arm. I connected, but Carl didn't falter for a second.
He pinned my arm down and struggled to pull my hand away from my mouth. It took all of my strength to resist him, but I knew it was only a matter of time before I gave in.
"Please, stop!" I let out a sob, unable to understand why he wasn't obeying me. Carl was turning out to be the worst minion ever.
Just as I felt my resolve weakening, Peter burst through the bedroom door, his eyes wide, probably in disgust at seeing my fangs. I knew he was going to kill me, and part of me wanted him to. I couldn't fight anymore. Carl was still struggling to force his blood on me as Peter grabbed his shoulders and wrestled him to the ground. I tried to lie still and ignore the sounds of both men fighting-I needed to get a grip on myself and contain the thirst. My whole body shuddered with fear. I had been seconds away from giving in, seconds away from becoming the monster everyone already thought I was. I counted the cracks in the ceiling, finding comfort in the numbers.
A hand touched my shoulder. Faster than I could think, I was huddled in the corner, my back against the wall.
Peter stared at me, confused and even a little concerned. "Are you okay?" he asked, holding his hands out toward me like he didn't know what else to do.
I nodded but stayed put.
"Ava, what are you doing?" he asked, his tone gentler than usual.
I realised I was multiplying out loud. I shook myself out of traumatised little girl mode and tried to act normal.
"Where's Carl?" I asked, hoping he would ignore the tremble in my voice.
"Knocked out on the floor. Don't worry, he's okay. I'm going to clean him up. Maybe you should... take a minute." He almost sounded friendly. That was a first, but I was too numb to care. If he had arrived a minute later, he would have caught me feasting on Carl-I was sure of it.
I dragged myself into the bathroom and locked the door. Gazing into the mirror, I saw a tired-looking girl with messy, unnaturally red hair and a complexion that was too pale to be real. My blood-shot eyes were rimmed with pink, and my cheeks were tear-stained. I scowled at my reflection. I was so weak that I couldn't even protect myself against a human with no control of his brain. It was ridiculous. I took long, deep breaths, but my hands wouldn't stop shaking.
After a few minutes, I reluctantly joined the others in the living room. Carl smiled innocently at me, but all I wanted to do was hit him hard. Peter stared at me, his expression unreadable.
"Carl, go take a shower," he ordered. I nodded my agreement and moved across the room to get out of Carl's path to the bathroom.
"You feeling all right yet?" Peter asked when Carl left the room.
"Of course."
"That was pretty intense back there," he continued. "I heard you screaming; I didn't know what to make of it. Then I saw... well, it wasn't what I expected."
"Yeah, so are you ready to go?"
He walked over to me, didn't back off even though I did. He touched my chin lightly and studied my face. "What are you, Ava?"
My skin felt like it was burning. I didn't want to drink from him, but I wanted something. That's why I had to push him away, before I made a mistake.
"What happened you, Peter?" I said as coolly as I could manage.
His face hardened. "Yeah, I'm ready to go. I'll wait by the car until you get Carl sorted," he said. Leaving me with Carl was his petty punishment for my words.
As soon as he left, my pulse raced with fear. I didn't want to be alone with Carl again. But Carl acted as though nothing had happened. I tried not to look at the bandage on his neck as I ordered him downstairs to Peter's car. I headed for the passenger seat of the dark green Cordoba, surprised by how much my hands were still shaking.
"You're in the back," Peter said. "Carl, up front."
I was just happy he was letting me forget what had happened in my apartment with Carl, so I got into the backseat without any fuss.
Maybe it was nerves, but I couldn't help giggling to myself, especially when the radio came on playing show tunes. Peter growled something incoherent and switched the station. Within minutes, Carl had fallen asleep again, so I was left alone with my thoughts.
The streets became familiar as we drove. More memories. I kept flashing back to my grandmother crying about the devil inside me. Of me standing awkwardly beside her, not knowing what to do and accused of being a heartless demon. I was nine.
That time, the man she turned to for help had been true evil-the source of many nightmares. I had bitten him and told him my vampire father would kill him. That was after he made me eat salt for an hour one day. He laughed out loud and told me there were no such things as vampires. Granny refused to believe he wasn't helping, but he was just another in a long line of conmen who inevitably disappointed her. That was when I went through a stage of wanting to be a real vampire. Stupid kid.
Big contrast to how I felt as we drove to the vampire bar. My whole body twitched with nerves. There was too much going on-my thirst for Carl, my attraction to Peter, and the fact I was going to willingly show myself to true vampires. Even counting Peter's steady heartbeat wasn't enough to calm me down.
"Maybe we should leave Carl somewhere. It might be too dangerous for him," I said.
"Nah," Peter said. "He'd do himself more damage looking for you."
"We could go back and lock him in at my place."
Peter shook his head. "He'd probably knock himself out trying to head-butt his way through the door." He glanced at Carl's sleeping form. "Poor bloke won't last much longer, you know."
/>
I knew. Carl wasn't doing well. An offhand comment from me could bring him a lot of harm. I had no idea how to mind control someone properly. Thinking of his bandaged neck, I wondered if some part of me was telling him to offer himself on a plate.
I fidgeted with the cross around my neck. If I hadn't been wearing it, Carl would be dead, of that I was certain. I owed it. And Eddie, I realised grimly. I had a strong feeling Eddie didn't help anyone unless there was something in it for him. I couldn't help remembering what he said about the vampires expecting me.
"What's a seer?" I asked.
"Something like a psychic, I suppose."
"So, they should already know all about me, then?"
Peter shook his head. "Not necessarily. They can't pick and choose what they see. But whatever they see is still valuable. Why?"
"Just thinking." Eddie had told me they knew I was coming and for the first time, I realised that might mean they had seen what I was. I had a theory about myself. I reckoned my making was a fluke, a mistake. Otherwise there would be lots more like me running around.
"Why can't they make new vampires anymore?"
Peter didn't bother trying to antagonise me into admitting what I am. Progress. "Something to do with genetics, I suppose. Humans evolve to fight threats to their existence."
"What, like an immunity or something?"
"Exactly. A vampire's fangs contain poison so it's an attack on the system. Maybe enough humans were bitten to start developing a way of fighting back. We've evolved somewhat, and whatever it was that allowed the change doesn't seem to exist anymore." He gave me a knowing glance in the rear view mirror. "Although maybe that means something different exists."
"So, if someone went around killing all the vampires that exist in the world, then that would be it? No more vampirism?"
"Suppose so," he said, but he didn't sound excited at the prospect.
For one wild minute I dreamed about paying the world back by wiping out all of the vampires in existence. Then I snapped back into reality and realised I couldn't win a fight with a human, never mind a vampire.
Peter parked the car one street away from the bar. "I'm parking out here, on the main road. If it all goes wrong, run to the car. Tell Carl the same. Don't wait for me."
"Yeah, right, like I'm going to leave a human alone with vampires," I said, rolling my eyes.
He turned around to face me, his hazel eyes more intense than I'd ever seen them. "Look, in case you haven't figured it out yet, what I do is hunt evil. All kinds. Then I kill it. I've been doing it for eight years, so yes, if it all goes wrong, don't wait for me."
His eyes were like ice-I couldn't help shivering under his stare. I didn't doubt him at all. He even scared me.
"I mean it, Ava. If anything goes wrong, get that lunk out of there. I can't trust either of you to take them on, so leave it to me."
I was sort of offended by that remark but knew he had a point. "All right, already. So, what's the plan?"
"The plan is you stay cool, and let me do the talking. We go in, don't look anyone in the eye. I'll speak to Becca and see where we go from there. Don't worry. If he isn't around then we'll come back tomorrow."
"Fair enough. Listen, Peter, thanks for doing this." He opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You're helping Carl, not me, but I'm benefiting too whether you like it or not."
He shook his head slightly, a bemused look on his face. "Actually, I'm not sure who I'm helping anymore."
He gave his bottom lip an absent-minded lick with the tip of his tongue. I let loose a little sigh.
"What?" he asked, his lips curving upward into a huge grin.
"Uh, nothing," I said, barely getting out a word. I shook Carl's shoulder a little too hard, startling him awake. We both followed Peter to the same side street again.
The place looked different at night. The darkness created lurking shadows and a general creepiness that spooked me. As we followed Peter to the door, I realised there were people in the shadows. Couples. The scent of fresh blood reached my nostrils, letting me know exactly what they were doing. I touched the silver cross but kept it hidden under my shirt, I didn't want anyone to know it didn't affect me.
I heard a couple of soft moans and automatically edged toward Peter. He was the closest thing to normal in my life. He gave me a quick smile, probably an attempt to reassure me, but my instincts still told me to run.
Peter pushed open the door, letting a stale odour engulf us.
"What is that stench?" I whispered to him.
He frowned at me. "That's how vampires smell. It's more intense when there's a whole bunch of them together."
"Oh, my God, do I smell?" That would be pretty embarrassing.
He gave me a rare genuine smile. "No, actually. You're a pretty rubbish vampire, to be honest." He laid his palm flat against my chest, and the tenor of his voice changed. "And look at that, you even have a heartbeat."
He inched closer to me, letting the door swing shut. Carl stood behind me, forgotten. "Seriously, Ava," Peter said. "What the hell are you?"
Not thinking about what I was doing, I touched his cheek and relished the heat of his skin. "I'm a big, bad, scary vampire. And don't you forget it."
To my surprise, I heard his heartbeat thunder in his chest. I stepped backward awkwardly, bumping into Carl, and the moment was lost.
Peter turned his back to us and strode into the bar like he owned it. Carl and I scurried after him, but not before I tripped clumsily through the doorway. In the corner of the room, three steps led up to a higher, more private section that had a view of the entire bar. We sat there, and I finally felt comfortable enough to look around.
The room still managed to look musty even with all the lighting. There were large red halogen bars on the ceiling emitting an unpleasant glow, while the walls flickered with tacky electric candles.
Human musicians huddled together in a corner. They had the same blankness in their eyes that Carl now possessed, thanks to me. The singer, on the other hand, had to be a vampire. She looked repulsive, but her voice was amazing. Sultry, deep and sexy, she was the focus of the room. Even Carl stared over at her, despite having the attention span of a gnat. Seeing his fascination, I wondered if a real vampire would have the power to take Carl from me. Although that would solve my problems, it wouldn't help Carl much.
The clientele were a mix of human and vampire. Some of the humans were enthralled, sitting or standing obediently beside their masters, while others were there willingly, the stench of their sweat tinged with fear. Maybe they were adrenalin junkies, or maybe getting bitten felt really good.
I spotted Becca at the bar. Her scarf was gone, and she stroked the puncture wounds on her neck at every opportunity, her eyes wide with anticipation. All the vampires at the bar looked her over, but none were obvious in their need. They controlled themselves a lot better than I ever could, even with the cross around my neck. I wrinkled my nose in self-disgust.
The vampire odour was becoming more noticeable; I couldn't understand how Becca put up with it night after night.
"It's the smell of death, you know," Peter said, startling me.
"What?"
"That smell. It's because they're dead. They rot unless they feed. They can't function without a regular supply of blood. They degenerate."
"Why do these people come here? Knowing they could die?" I asked, baffled at the idea of humans willingly giving themselves to vampires. I couldn't see anything attractive about the concept.
Peter shrugged. "There's something for everyone in this world. Maybe they want to die. Maybe they want something else."
"Is it a sexual thing?" I whispered. My weakest moment had come in an intimate setting.
Peter grinned. "You really are clueless. Vampires can't do it unless they just fed."
"Why?" I leaned closer to him, extremely curious.
/> "Because... there's no blood supply, nothing to stimulate them unless they've taken warm blood from a living person, and even then it doesn't last long. It's the only time they really feel. They're dead, remember?"
"So, why do all the myths make it seem like a seduction?"
The smile dropped from his face. He gestured toward the other tables. "To make it more attractive. To cover how repulsive it all really is."
"How come you know all of this?" I asked, fascinated.
"How come you don't?"
I wanted to tell him, but I couldn't take the chance. He didn't trust me, but if his job was hunting evil things then I wasn't surprised. Becca interrupted us before I could speak.
"Nobody's in tonight, Petey."
"You sure?"
She batted her eyelashes. "'Course I'm sure. You want a drink?"
"No, we'll be on our way."
"Come back soon," she said, ruffling his hair. I couldn't help feeling angry as she stared me down, but the red tint in her eyes bothered me so much, I dropped mine first. I couldn't understand why anyone would want to be a monster.
"Why are we going already?" I hissed at Peter when she walked away.
He jostled Carl, who was trying to doze off. "Because people have noticed us, and there's more than one vampire in here getting interested in you, so move, we're out of here."
I took one last look around the room and saw he was right. A number of vampires stared right at me, more quizzical than angry, but the hairs on the back of my neck stood up nonetheless. I hurried after Peter, feeling safer when he was within touching distance. He knew what he was doing. I didn't. I had to pull Carl after me; he was too busy staring around the room to hurry.
As we approached the door some of the vampires stood up as if to follow us.
"Oh, shit," I muttered, then held my breath. The bar went silent, and I had the suffocating feeling that there was a target on my chest. To my surprise, Peter stopped and pushed me ahead of him, glaring right at the vampires. Carl gripped my arm and pushed me closer to the door. My stomach lurched, but they all sat down, and we hurried out the door. We made it out of a vampire bar alive. But we still didn't have what we were looking for.