He decided to go to the party, even though it was at Kirk’s. Paul Michael needed to see Lilith. And after the other night he felt different, braver and more intuitive. Had she done this to him? Could vampires do that? He tried to recall what he had read about them in comic books and seen in horror films. He thought so….
The party was at a ranch house with a pool where kids splashed in a haze of aqua blue light. Paul Michael got beer from the keg and looked around for Lilith. He saw only Carter and Kirk.
“Look who crashed the festivities!” Kirk said.
“He’s probably looking for his girlfriend,” said Carter, and Kirk sniggered. “Fat ass really cleaned up his act. I even think he’s losing some of that paunch.” Carter smacked Paul Michael in the gut with the back of his hand, and Paul Michael bent over as the pain flashed through him. He had lost weight. He had hardly been able to eat since Lilith had come to his room, but he didn’t feel hungry or weak at all. If anything, he had felt stronger until Carter slammed him like that. That strength was because of her, Paul Michael was sure, vampire or no.
He wished for a second for the archangels on the pendant his mother had given him, but they hadn’t really helped in the past. The only thing that had helped was Lilith. Maybe she had bitten him like a vampire, but she was the closest thing to an angel he’d ever come across, inside his mind or out.
She was standing outside the sliding glass door by the pool, and lozenges and trails of blue light trembled over her skin. All she wore was a thin black satin dress that looked more like a slip, and she had her boots on. He felt a tremble of desire go through him because he was the only one there—he was sure—who knew what was under those boots. It wasn’t gruesome to him. He knew her intimately. He knew her secret.
Carter saw Paul Michael and Lilith looking at each other. He said to Paul Michael, “You know where the word geek comes from? You must know, right? Geek?”
Kirk laughed, sputtering beer down the front of his shirt.
Carter snapped his fingers at Kirk without looking back at him. “Go get it,” he said.
Kirk ran off and came back holding a sack. It was making squawking sounds and writhing. Kirk opened the sack and handed the chicken to Carter. It flapped its wings in terror and tried to wrench away. Carter held it by the neck.
“What does geek mean, Kirk?” Carter asked like a maniacal teacher.
“It means someone who bites the heads off live chickens,” Kirk answered obediently. He went behind Paul Michael and grabbed his arms. Paul Michael struggled, but Kirk was stronger than he looked. His ropy arms held fast.
Paul Michael thought he might vomit. He wanted to look over at Lilith, but he kept his eyes on the ground. Kirk jerked him back, and his glasses fell off. They lay near Carter’s sneaker, ready to be smashed.
Carter held the chicken up in front of Paul Michael so he could smell it, and its feathers flapped against his face. He tried to move away, but Kirk still had him like that.
“Bite,” Carter said. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a pocketknife. He held it up to Paul Michael’s throat. A few people had gathered around, laughing nervously.
It was hard to tell if it was the chicken or what, but Paul Michael felt something swoop down, scratching his face, and then Lilith was there.
Someone screamed.
“You have no idea,” she said, in a voice much deeper and lower than what should have come from the throat of a seventeen-year-old girl, “how big my mouth is. I could take your head off in one bite.”
She grabbed the knife out of Carter’s hand so swiftly and with so much force that he backed away and the bird fell to the ground and flapped in the dirt.
Then Paul Michael broke free of Kirk and she reached for his hand, took it, and began to run. Paul Michael heard a soft shattering sound as his glasses crunched under his feet.
They ran for what felt like a long time, but Paul Michael wasn’t really tired. He thought he might be getting stronger. It was almost like flying.
When they got to the highway, he started to cross, but Lilith pulled him so his back pressed against her breasts. He turned his head to look at her and a car roared by, speeding crazily out of nowhere from around a bend. For a moment he saw her lit up in its headlights.
“Look both ways,” she told him.
She was so beautiful, he thought. He would do anything for her.
They crossed. There was a dry creek bed along the road and a beat-up old black Mercedes parked at the side. They went under a chain-link fence, and she led him down into the creek. It was usually full with water from the mountains, the only proof in Nowhere that the white-capped peaks were real, even in the valley heat. They lay down there, among the river rocks and dirt, looking up at the stars in the sky.
“Why did you want to go to that party?” he asked.
She laughed. Almost coyly. “It’s practically foreplay to watch those pricks acting out like that.”
He took Carter’s knife from her hand. She had been clutching it the whole time.
“What are you doing?” she asked softly, smiling.
He lifted his hair up away from his neck—thinking he would have to cut it off, it got in her way—and exposed the tendons to her. Then held up the knife to his neck. She laughed.
“I don’t need that, silly,” she told him.
Of course, Paul Michael thought. Duh. Can you say teeth, Paul Michael?
When she pulled away from him, his neck was throbbing and her mouth was black with blood in the dark.
“Your turn,” she said.