Chapter 22

‘What is this place?’ Lilly asks as I lead her down the dark alley to the hollow black doorway.

‘Goth bar.’

‘And we’re here because?’

‘You need to feed.’ I smile at her in what I hope is a reassuring manner.

‘I told you I’m not ...’

‘Take it easy. These victims are willing, for a few drinks - though in reality I have never resorted to this before.

‘Then ... how do you know they are willing?’ Her voice is sharp, suspicious.

‘I have my sources.’

The smoke was Miss Havisham’s veil, parting to reveal the warped and twisted visage of the young, beautiful, wealthy and political. I plunged in, brushing against a lovely black girl in silver hot pants and a black sleeveless blouse that was tied under her breasts; her defined stomach was slick with perspiration as she rocked her hips in rhythm with the music. Her partner was a John Travolta look-a-like in white flared trousers and a shirt that clung to his hollow chest, soaked with perspiration. He lifted her into his arms swinging her in a Rock ’n’ Roll move, redressed as disco, while sweat poured down his forehead into his eyes.

I Love the Night Life pounded through the huge black speakers as the neon lights flashed onto the disco ball, scattering kaleidoscopic colours over the gyrating bodies on the dance floor. A waitress in a tight turquoise leotard and an afro worked her way through the crowd. She tottered on ludicrously high heels. Her tray swayed in sympathy with her hips while freshly poured beer sloshed onto the already tacky surface of the plastic tray. She stumbled forward to a table perched at the edge of the wooden floor.

‘That’ll be five dollars, sir,’ she drawled serving the drinks; her southern American accent was like Irish coffee.

She scooped up the money as I stepped closer and took a seat at the table next to my broker, Michael Steel. Michael nodded his silver streaked head in my direction as the waitress smiled at me.

‘What can I get you?’ She pronounced ‘I’ like ‘Ahh’.

‘Bloody Mary.’ I smiled back and I watched her waltz away.

‘I got something for you,’ Michael shouted in my ear above the dim of the disco. ‘Here.’

He held out an envelope which I knew would contain a wad of cash. I took it, quickly stuffing it in to my jacket pocket.

‘I’m sure you’ll find it very satisfactory,’ Michael continued.

‘Perhaps someday you’ll tell me how you come by your information.’

‘Perhaps. But why bother when this arrangement is so lucrative?’

Michael laughed, flashing perfect white teeth, a politician’s smile; he should have been kissing poor unsuspecting babies.

‘I’ve got something for you too,’ I said, leaning closer. ‘Laker Airlines.’

‘What? They gonna announce bigger profits?’

‘No.’ I smiled. ‘Goin’ under.’

‘Not possible ...’ Michael took a gulp of his beer; then followed it with a vodka chaser.

I looked at him more closely. He was wired. I detected the faint odour of cocaine on the breath he exhaled through his nostrils.

‘You want to take it easy with that stuff. It’ll kill ya,’ I told him.

‘Yeah, right. That’s what my dealer says ... Anyway ... Laker? You sure?’

‘Have I ever been wrong?’ My eyes followed a lovely girl of Chinese origin with hair so long it stroked the back of her knees; it was a pity she wasn’t my type. Beside me Michael laughed.

‘Amazingly, no you haven’t. I’ll act on it. Usual remuneration?’

I nodded, patting my pocket. ‘That’ll do nicely.’

Of course I was never going to tell Michael that the information I gave him came from sitting on the roof tops of all the major corporations, listening to their most secret meetings. He would never have believed it anyway.

In the congealing mass I looked for outstanding beauty and found - Lucrezia. She was dancing with one of the younger Kennedy’s; I forget which. Her breasts deliberately brushed against him as she moved. She was the same, stunning but vile.

I felt a pang of disgust mixed with lust as she allowed the man to maul her openly under the guise of dance moves. She, like me, had become a chameleon. She fitted into the scene perfectly, with her flowing gypsy skirt and off the shoulder top in white cheese cloth. Even the hair, a backcombed mess, was like all the other women in the room; big.

‘I’ll be right back,’ I told Michael, but he was busy with the girl beside him; a skinny waif who didn’t look older than fifteen. His tastes were often a concern for me but not really my business.

I stood, matching Lucrezia’s progress with my own as she tracked the dance floor. Her hair flicked as she spun her head around and suddenly turned my way. It was as though she felt my resentful gaze on her slender spine. I deftly slid behind a concrete column that was painted to look marble, not wanting to be recognised. I was long past any hope that she would want to see me, talk to me or be anywhere near me. Even so, I was curious. I enjoyed the thought that I could observe her unnoticed. Perhaps that night she hunted, just as I did, among the rich and famous.

Perhaps she too wanted to experience the thrill of taking someone who would actually be missed. Although, having spied her in Memphis with Elvis some years before, I still had my suspicions about her involvement in his sudden death.

What was it about Lucrezia that invited danger? Over the years she had been easy to find, never caring to hide from me and taking little more precaution among humans. I soon realised that she believed in her invulnerability. If things didn’t work out her way, she killed and vanished; sudden, violent and careless. I wasn’t sure if she even took the precaution of having an escape route or backup plan. It would be so like her to be so arrogant. I envied her.

I patted my jacket pocket again, silently insecure. Everything was there, where I expected it to be, my current passport and driver’s licence. In a safe deposit box in a bank in Queens there were several spares, all under different identities that I could jump in and out of at a minute’s notice. I lived in fear of discovery because I did not believe, unlike Lucrezia, that I was indestructible. Science was too clever, too watchful.

I smiled at a lithe blonde in a diminutive skirt and boob-tube, but kept my lusting teeth in check, as she shimmied past me.

Even though people in the eighties liked the idea of the mysterious seducer who sucked the blood of virgins to live forever and Hammer Horror movies were at the height of their popularity, I knew that my protruding fangs could terrify. I’d seen and loved all of the fad Dracula movies; they were hopelessly amusing. Christopher Lee was my favourite. And as for those lovely virgins, oh yes.

‘Hi there,’ said a pretty brunette with a Farrah Fawcett smile.

She wore tight black satin trousers that looked like she was sewn into them.

‘Hi yourself. Can I get you a drink?’

That was the reason I frequented these noisy, animalistic places. The Game needed a constant supply of willing, naïve beauties. Despite the fact that sexuality had undergone a major overhaul, there was always an abundance of them. Money, power and mystery were the most compelling of combinations and I had them all. I had watched ‘real life’ from a distance, it wasn’t hard for me to feel part of the scene, because everyone else felt they were on the sidelines too. They were all pretenders, with their Dynasty shoulder pads and block shaped mobile phones.

As always, in the midst of so much raw humanity, I was hungry, starving, but for more than blood.

‘So what’s your name, gorgeous?’

‘I’m Bethany.’

‘Let’s dance.’

We swooped on the dance floor like two hunting falcons and I did my best impersonation of modern man. Bethany pumped her hips into my pelvis, and I swung her closer enjoying how she felt in my arms as I buried my head into her neck. A faint, unpleasant, odour rose from her skin. It smelt like bubonic plague. I backed away, holding her at arm’s length. Trying not to gag, because once I had tuned into the scent it was stronger and more defined. How had I missed this earlier? I looked more closely at the ever so slightly sunken eyes, the bluish tinge to the mouth. A wasting disease!

‘I have to go,’ I said backing away and as I turned I collided with Lucrezia.

She spun me round with ease, falling into the dance moves. I was too stunned to do anything other than mimic her moves.

‘There’s a lot of ... sickness ... in this room,’ she warned looking behind me at Bethany.

‘I know.’

Her arm circled my waist.

‘Let’s talk.’

I followed her, suspicious but curious, as she led me out of the heaving room through the heat and pulsating sex and pushed on a door marked ‘Private’. It opened and she pulled me in, her strength no less than my own.

‘I know the owner; we won’t be disturbed in here.’

We switched to Italian. I had barely spoken a word of it since leaving Italy a few centuries earlier. I had smoothed out all traces of ‘foreign’ from my voice but my native tongue fell naturally from my lips as the door closed behind us and the music diminished to a dim buzz until the door closed fully. The office was soundproofed.

‘Sit.’

I looked around the office. One wall was covered with a two way mirror looking out on the dance floor. The bodies gyrated like a silent movie through the glass. Lucrezia perched on the edge of the expensive oak desk and a heated vision floated through my mind unchecked. I imagined her laying there her legs apart as she urged on the huge bulk of the anonymous owner.

Behind the desk was a large executive chair in tan leather. In the arms, perspiration had worn small finger impressions into the hide. Fingerprints way too small for a man. Ah.

‘You own this place.’

She blinked. Looked at the chair.

‘Oh. Of course. How stupid to think you wouldn’t spot a tiny detail like that Gabriele, with your magnificent, magical eyes. I wouldn’t have missed it either. Yes. I own this night club. It’s one of my many investments, but I have a front man. No one knows it’s mine but him.’

‘Why have you brought me in here? Last time we talked you didn’t want to be part of my life.’

‘True. I don’t. I know you’ve been watching me on occasion. I thought you ought to know a few things ... for your own safety.’ She pushed away from the desk, walked around it and sat in the chair; her fingers pressed together as though in prayer.

‘Why bother, when you’ve never cared about my “safety” before?’

‘Also true but I do feel ... a little responsible.’ Her watery smile denied her words.

‘Mmm. What things do I need to know then? For my own safety,’ I replied sarcasm dripping like saliva from my fangs.

‘I’m a doctor in this lifetime.’

‘A doctor, just like that?’ I sneered.

‘No. Not ‘just like that’. It took seven years of medical school, and several in practice. I’m a consultant now, a blood specialist.’

‘How ironic.’

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

‘You’ve toughened up over the years.’ She leaned back, tilting the chair.

Silence.

‘Haven’t you ever thought of having an impact on the world, Gabriele? Haven’t you ever wanted to do something other than ... feed?’ she asked after a while, her eyes wore the glaze of the fanatic.

I didn’t answer. It would have been pointless. She was on a roll, so I let her talk.

‘I was bored. I wanted a challenge and academia holds so many interesting young male bodies. I kind of ... fell into medical school at first. I wanted to captivate a certain young student I’d seen around.’

I nodded. Stalking was something I had always understood.

‘Once in, I became fascinated with the idea of learning what makes the body tick. I wanted to understand myself. Study my own blood ...’

‘And of course, you couldn’t trust anyone else to do that.’

‘Precisely.’

I sat down in the chair opposite the desk; it was strategically lower than the manager’s chair.

‘There are some ways in which we can be hurt, Gabriele. That girl’s blood for example ... she has AIDS. It wouldn’t kill you, but it would make you sick. For a very long time.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I’ve experimented on samples of my own blood. The vampiric blood is strong. It fights off all infections I’ve encountered, but it needs to be fed frequently with fresh blood. This is because our cells have a shorter life span than human cells.’

‘I don’t follow you. We’re immortal, aren’t we?’

‘I’ll keep it all in layman’s terms. Yes we are, but ... my theory on this is that our blood cells “burn out” due to our preternatural abilities. While our body rejuvenates and repairs itself, our blood corrodes or gets used up. Blood is living fuel to us. Any disease that attacks human blood can harm ours too. You see, AIDS is not nature’s “gay” disease at all, despite what the homophobic fanatics want to believe. I think, and this may sound crazy or even paranoid, that it is nature’s attempt to eradicate our kind from the planet.’

I was thoughtful. Lucrezia sat unnaturally still watching my face. I sat back in my chair imitating her poise.

‘Why would “nature” care about us? In a way we are just as much a plaque, pruning the population, even if it is only once a year.’

Her anger was a flare exploding in the sky.

‘Once a year? You stupid boy! How can you torture yourself like that?’

‘Are you telling me you feed more frequently?’

‘Haven’t you learnt anything over the past few years? Haven’t you learnt to just take a little? To leave them alive?’

My silence was my insolence.

‘You enjoy the hunt, that’s why,’ she stated. ‘Perhaps you even love the kill. You’ve more about you than I gave you credit for, Gabriele.’

Standing, she walked around to the front of the desk again, slipped off her platform sandals, and placed her small foot on my knee. Her toes slid down my thigh, reaching towards my groin.

‘Perhaps ... we could renew our association?’

I stiffened under her touch, her Shocking Pink toenails digging teasingly into my crotch. My blood quickened. The lust coursed through me in a sighing gush. Lucrezia’s breath caught in her throat, and she almost swooned in response to the powerful flood that surged from my flesh. I caught her in my arms, finding and holding her lips. Her tongue searched my mouth, running lightly over the extended canines. My hand slid under the cloth of her skirt, trailing the beautiful smooth skin above her knee while she tugged at my shirt. I lifted her roughly and slammed her down onto the desk. She groaned with pleasure.

‘If I’d known it would be so sexy fucking another one of my kind I’d have done it sooner.’

Her hand reached down the waistband of my trousers with a fluid shrug. Her touch was raw electricity and my cock ached and throbbed in her grasp.

‘I did offer, but you weren’t interested.’ My tongue trailed along the curve of her jaw, dragged lower across the swell of her breast. She pushed my jacket off my shoulders and I allowed it, holding her one handed as each arm slid out of the expensive silk fabric.

‘I didn’t think it was done. None of the others seem to bother with each other.’ She threw back her head, her eyes reducing to fiery green slits.

I stopped.

‘Others?’

Tearing at her top she snapped the thin string tie that held it together above her breasts.

‘Surely you’ve seen them? No? I suppose you have never frequented the Goth bars? I always found them vaguely too easy.

I like to work on my conquests for a while first. However, I’ve used Goths in desperate need.’

I let go of her suddenly and she fell back into the desk with a hard crack.

‘Ow! You’re pretty rough ... No wonder your humans can’t survive it.’

‘There are others?’

‘Of course. Where the hell do you think I came from?’ She reached for me. ‘Look, this is probably a shock, but I’ll tell you about them later. Come here.’ Her hand caught and held my shirt, pulling me closer.

‘Get away from me.’

I pushed away from her reaching hands and the thin silk tore under her grasp.

‘Look, Gabriele. They don’t like anyone on their patch, but they tolerate me on occasion.’

‘Where?’ My voice sounded hollow in my ears.

‘Scattered all over. But there aren’t that many, you know how surprised I was when you ...’

‘How many?’

‘Maybe five or six. The mother’s a bit of a bitch about reproduction. We’re all supposed to “check” our food.’

I began to straighten my clothes. I was a fool. A stupid, illiterate fool. What had I thought would come of this union? I knew Lucrezia. She would use me for her satisfaction once again only to throw me aside later.

‘Who made you?’ I asked. ‘Who turned you, Lucrezia? And who is “the Mother”?’

‘What does it matter?’ Lying back on the desk she spread her legs, pulling up her skirt to reveal bare flesh. ‘This is what you want, Gabriele. You visualised it as you entered the room, didn’t you?’

I closed my eyes; backed away, even though it made more sense to stay and find out all I could. I was repulsed by her. I wanted nothing more to do with her lies, her deceit; her sex. I tugged open the door and the heat and noise from the dance floor poured in like the lava from an erupting volcano.

I fell through the crowd, barged past the diseased Bethany, and exploded from the disco, running full pelt down the road with the noise from the club still ringing in my ears.