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by Kera L
Rated: 18+ · Novella · Romance/Love · #1439110
The story of a vampire and a werewolf.
I sat in the corner booth of my least favorite restaurant, the King’s Horses Restaurant, eyeing the crowd of teenage boys as they cursed and boasted to each other about silly things like their car sound systems or how good their girlfriends were in bed.  They were leaving a terrible mess, and I knew that I would have to clean it up in the next fifteen minutes when my shift started. The graveyard shift at the restaurant was how I earned my money, how little there was of it. But I wasn't about to complain. Out loud at least.
I’m a vampire. I’m far older than my nineteen year old body portrays. I’m older than even my managers, though a few of them are at least a few centuries old. But in this district, where vampires and humans meet more than humans think, this little restaurant was a safe haven for my kind to hang out in and meet with each other.
I sighed and took a sip of my soda, grimacing at the taste. I was the oldest, but it didn’t mean I was free from ridicule. I was of the rare survivors of the bite. My scars were faded, but I could still feel the pain of fangs in my neck. Usually those who were bitten died from it soon after. Sickness often took them, but I had been fortunate enough to survive through the worst of my sickness and overcame it to become stronger. I was gifted with vitality and strength for surviving, as well as the other gifts of my kind.
I glared at the group, reaching out with my mind to urge them to leave. A couple of them looked my way, but they only saw a young employee sitting in a dark booth. My blue eyes sparkled with the power of persuasion.
The boys got up and exited, leaving a large mess in the lobby that spread over three tables. I muttered ancient curses at them as they headed toward their cars. It was bad enough that I was forced to find a job after my sire died, but being forced to bend to the will of humans was just appalling.
Then the door opened, accented by the tinkling of a bell. I looked up to see a young girl about seventeen or eighteen walk in. I gently prodded into her mind and sensed nervousness, though just by the way she glanced around and fidgeted, it wasn’t all that unusual. Her brown hair fell in gentle curls around her shoulders, highlighted in the soft glow of the florescent lights at the counter. Her blue jeans were fitting, though not too tight, and a dark green sweater was tucked into her belt. My eyes traveled up to the wide neck of the sweater where a shoulder was dropping down over a faded black t-shirt. Both shirts were too large to really reveal any form, but I could almost imagine the body underneath from the roundness of her breasts where the sweater hung. I let my gaze linger on the pale column of her neck where her life blood pulsed beneath her skin. I licked my lips, feeling the familiar hunger of my kind bubble up at the sight of warm blood from a fresh young body. She felt my eyes on her and she turned to me, glancing toward my dark corner. Her green eyes sparkled with nervousness as she turned back to the counter and searched for a manager. She held a familiar piece of paper: an application.
I reached out with my senses, silently speaking with a mixture of images and feelings that could be translated into words.
You’ve got someone with an application, I told my manager in the back.
Is it a girl or guy? came the reply from Henry Whittington.
I sent him a mental glare and a flash of the girl standing before me. I felt Henry’s interest peak and he emerged form the kitchens. Henry wasn’t a short man. In fact, he towered at least a foot over my head. I hated this about the pure blood vampires. Their movements were much smoother, they were taller and fairer, and they aged slowly--and sometimes, if they fed regularly on healthy, youthful prey, not at all--but didn’t die naturally. Henry was pale, as all of our kind are after a while, and his slanted green eyes nearly glowed. His eyebrows were finely arched and a seductive gleam was always present in his eyes. His long black hair was tied back at the nape of his neck in a style that was centuries old, but seemed to be coming back into fashion. His mundane uniform of a red button up shirt and pressed black slacks seemed elegant and sophisticated on him. He smiled kindly as he confronted the girl.
“Hello, young lady,” he said with a small bow of his head. “I’m the night manager, Henry. May I help you?”
His voice dripped with hidden desires and I saw the small shudder run through the girl.
“I-I need a job,” she said, her voice trembled slightly. Whether it was from her own nervousness or Henry’s sensual presence, I couldn’t tell. “Here’s my application.”
She handed the small yellow paper to Henry. I saw him deliberately brush his fingers over hers and took the paper. He looked it over, tapping a finger against his chin for added effect.
“Well then, Miss Bianca Weller, I will give this to the evening shift manager and tell her you’re interested,” Henry said. “You will get a call in a week for an interview.”
The girl nodded and thanked Henry. The vampire smiled kindly, not quite revealing the sharp fangs protruding behind his lips. Bianca turned and walked from the store. Henry turned to me with a smirk.
“You’re late, Micheau,” Henry said.
I glanced at the clock with a curse and jumped up from my seat to clock in, snapping at Henry with a few unkind words.

I sighed with relief as I left the King’s Horses Restaurant and sat in my car. I watched in my rearview mirror as the young man in the corner booth ran to the computer at the front counter and talked to the manager. My heart slowed as I took deep breaths to calm myself. That place always gave me the creeps, the night crew especially, but I had no other choice. The other places had not even acknowledged my applications. I knew it was because of the four days I took off a month to visit my grandmother…or so I wanted them to believe.
I sighed. My clan had warned me about the life of a normal person, but I had not listened. Why had I not listened to the warnings? I could have stayed with them in the forests up north. But no, I wanted to break out on my own like most of the younger ones do. I had seen it happen many times. Sometimes they returned, disheartened. Other times, they seemed to just vanish.
I started my car and watched the manager disappear into the back once more. I shivered. Leaving the King’s Horses, I started to shake the feeling of danger I had around that man, Henry. I drove to my house miles away, in the remote outskirts of the city. I had rented a house near a lake with enough solitude to keep anyone from straying too close when the full moon rose and I was forced to lock myself away while I transformed.
I saw the moon in my mirror, a oddly shaped oval of silver light since my monthly transformation into a wolf had passed just a few days before. I had purposely waited until after the full moon had passed so I could make sure not to miss a call for an interview. As long as I had a chance to get a job and keep it, I wouldn’t return to the clan for a while.
I thought back to the night I left to try living on my own. My mother had cried, I remembered, and she had wished me good luck and a safe return. My father hadn’t spoken to me and the rest of the clan had told me to stay. They had warned me and told me that my older brother, Julian, had been hunted when he went out to try life on his own. But I reminded them that he hadn’t had the foresight to lock himself away and he had killed a farmer’s chickens before the bullets had pierced his heart.
I turned into the long driveway of my house, dirt rising behind me on the road. The house before me was small with bare flowerbeds in the front and a small garage off to the side. It was a light blue color with vines working their way up the sides. A flowerbox under the only window in the front had weeds growing from it. The front door was cracked and a screen door leaned against wall beside the door. The small porch supported an overhang and an old porch swing swayed under it. I had gotten a good deal, but it would take a lot of work before I was able to call this place home.
I shut off the engine and got out of my car. It was an older car, a small VW Bug sold to me by a retired hippie. It still sported the marks of the sixties with faded flowers and swirls decorating it. They were just stickers and would be easy to remove, but for now I was more concerned about getting gas for the car than how it looked.
I paused at the door, taking in the scent of old trees and wind. I slid the key into the lock and opened the door. Inside I had done a little work, nailing up falling shelves and getting the small termite infestation under control. It was too small to have any large amount of furniture, but I had salvaged a couch from the neighbors down the road. It was torn and smelled like dog urine, but a thick blanket and air fresheners fixed that problem. An old telephone hung on the wall in the kitchen. It was hooked up only for the purpose of receiving calls from employers and my family back north. The kitchen was plain with a counter along one wall, a half fridge sitting on the floor, and an old woodstove. I did the dishes by hand — the few that I had at the moment since I was on a very limited supply of money until I earned my own — and the stove was too sooty to light, though with the weather being warm I doubted I would need to for a while. I had bought the small fridge from a garage sale. It was small, but it served it purpose by holding a few food items I needed.
I wiped a bit of new dust from the yellow counter. The dust had been terrible at first. I had sneezed nonstop for a week before I swept it all out and washed it from the walls. The walls, I discovered, were a soft gray with painted blue flowers along the top connected by fading green vines. The living room was also part of the kitchen and a small bathroom and bedroom were the only other rooms. There was a cellar outside where I locked myself up during the full moon. I had spent a lot of money reinforcing the doors and locks.
I turned on the lights and fixed myself a snack. I turned on the radio, the only thing I had to get news from. It went through a few songs before a forecast told me that the morning would be cool and it would warm up and be an overall nice day. I washed the plate I had used and turned off the radio. I locked the house tightly and retired to the bedroom.
After changing into my bedclothes, I climbed into the bed and pulled the covers up to my waist. A small breeze flowed from the cracks around the window and I watched the light curtains flutter slightly.
I closed my eyes. I felt a breeze brush over my bare arms and I shivered, pulling the blanked up further. In my mind I could see those burning blue eyes of the young man in the corner booth as he watched me. His face had been extremely pale and handsome. I couldn’t see him properly in the dim light, but I could feel the same hunger Henry had in his eyes. It had made me want to run from that place.
I opened my eyes again and turned over, suddenly cold as I pulled the blankets up further. But even with my eyes open, I could still see his eyes in the darkness.
I shook my head, my brown curls falling over my forehead and into my face. I lay there for a long time before I finally fell asleep.

I felt their whispers touch my mind, beckoning me to join them in their feast of the young flesh they seduced into the restaurant. I ignored the whispers in my mind and concentrated on bringing the patrons their glasses of wine and blood. I had to be careful and serve the right drinks to the right people. A few weeks before, one of the other night employees had accidentally served blood to a human and been suspended for two months while we had to clean up the mess the human had made while she had tried to flee. Luckily Annabelle, another waitress, had jumped on the human and silenced her forever.
“Micheau, the guests at table three have been waiting on their drinks for ten minutes,” Henry reminded me as he loaded another tray of food and drinks for me.
“Well, get Victor back here so I’m not left to get all the tables myself,” I snapped at him, revealing my fangs as a threat.
“That oaf cost us too much money with his stupidity,” Henry said. “He won’t be back for another month.”
Annabelle appeared behind me and took the tray Henry prepared. “Did you forget I’m here, Mickey?” she asked in her sweetly seductive tone. “I’m serving them, too.”
“Don’t call me Mickey,” I muttered as she walked off, wagging her hips as she went. Her skirt brushed her thighs with every step and when she bent over to hand out the drinks, the skirt rode up to reveal just the slightest hint of her nice ass.
I shook my head and went back to my work. I would have to wait until the others went into the basement with their selected prey before I could actually have a drink.
I shivered slightly as I remembered the basement. It had been modified from the musty old storehouse to a velvet lounge where a chosen human was taken to be fed on and killed. The other humans were released with a bit of memory modification and a little less blood in their systems.
I took a final drink to table three and immediately knew that the man and vampire sitting at the table would be the lucky (or unlucky) pair to entertain the rest of the bloodthirsty vampires in the place. The human man was young and his blood pumped hotter than the others as his vampire partner worked her way into his mind, feeding his pleasure and lust. He looked about average height with sand colored hair and dull brown eyes full of lust. Marta gave me a knowing look over the human’s shoulder and smiled. She was older than me, though she had the looks of a human of around thirty years. Her long dark hair was tied in elegant loops on her head. I met her glowing black eyes and nodded slightly.
I went back to the counter and looked at Henry. He smiled and drew a long piece of black silk from his pocket. I watched as he made his way to Marta and her human and the entire place fell silent with anticipation.
I couldn’t look anymore. I turned back into the kitchens, knowing what would happen to the poor human. Henry would tie the silk around the human’s eyes and he would be led through the storage room by the bathrooms and through the hidden door beyond. Then he would be taken down to the basement while the other vampires took their last drinks and sent their humans on their way with no memory of what had happened in the little restaurant. They would join Marta and her human in the basement, surrounding them as Marta worked her way through the human’s defenses and brought his pleasure to a peak.
I shook my head and took up a glass, filling it with blood from a tap in the back. I sloshed it around a little, like a wine connoisseur ready to take a taste. I knew what would happen because it had happened to me. Long ago, when I was still human, I had wandered into a tavern, wanting another drink after being kicked out of a tavern a few blocks away for being too unruly. I had not known it was an exclusive club at night for vampires. They had seduced me, playing my body like a well tuned instrument. I had not been a virgin in the least before that night, but I had never felt the fire that burned through me that night with any of my human lovers. They had surrounded me and bitten into me, their fangs a completely exquisite contrast to the pleasure they gave me with their minds and bodies.
I licked my lips feeling the lust and pleasure run through my body as Marta continued with her play. Every vampire below me radiated sensuality and their feelings went up through the floor and into my body. I felt my own arousal grow as I remembered the same feelings I had had that night so long ago.
Vampires loved the taste of pleasure and pain in blood, but the spice that added a little more was the strength and sensuality of vampire blood. It was excruciating. The bites from a dozen vampires and the pleasure from the same bodies that took my life had made my body change with their own blood. I had tasted the blood at first, then craved it as it renewed my life in death.
I suddenly felt the human die. It was a small pain, like a slap, but I brought me back to my present situation. This human had been weak. It usually took hours for them to die in an unbearable web of pleasure and pain. Eventually the humans, even with the blood of a vampire, died when their hearts exploded in their chests. That was when the vampires turned on themselves to fulfill the lust they brought on themselves. Once in a while, the human’s mind would just stop working. They would live on but their brains were dead. On the very rare occasion, like mine, that the person is strong enough to survive both the bites and the vampire blood that raged through their veins, they lived to become vampires themselves. But even those people die. Their foolish ways at new life often killed them when they stayed out too late or were killed by the old hunters. But more likely they fell to the sickness that took them. Their bodies would reject the vampire blood and they would die a slow, excruciating death as the blood burned them from the inside out.
But there are the few who survive. Like me. I had gone through the sickness. I had survived. My body had eventually accepted the vampire infection and adapted with the strengths of vampires, as well as the weaknesses. I had not seen true sunlight since I turned. Only the new pictures and movies allowed me to view the sun without burning up in it. I can be killed, but it would be difficult for anyone. Severing my head from my body would kill me, as well as tearing out or piercing my heart. Sunlight, as I mentioned, and fire consumes my kind quickly. In the old days, when witches were stronger, they could stop us with their spells for a time. Poisons will only render us weak and useless, though on occasion they work in fairly large doses (enough to kill three full grown elephants, I’ve heard, though I’m not really up to try and find out if it’s true).
Annabelle peeked into the break room where I sat and smiled. She entered, looking like a sweet girl of sixteen with her hands folded behind her back and her dark hair pulled into a sleek ponytail. I knew of course, that she was at least a hundred and a pure blooded vampire with a cute disposition until she was angry. Then she was like a wildcat, all claws and fangs. While working, she turned on her sultry charm to get bigger tips.
“Hiding out?” Annabelle asked as she sat across from me at the small table.
“I got hungry,” I said, motioning to the glass in front of me.
She smiled and ran a finger inside it where the blood was dripping back down to pool in the bottom. She brought her long finger to her lips and slipped it between them. She lowered her long lashes as she sucked on her finger. I started hungrily at her lips. Annabelle knew exactly how to raise the passion of others. I was no different, but I could control my urges until it was safer to act on them.
“It was really quite remarkable,” Annabelle said. “He didn’t last long, but his pain was amazing and his pleasure was even better.”
I took my glass back and stood. Annabelle followed me to the table where the cask of blood sat. I filled my glass again and kept an eye on my female companion. She walked around the table and leaned over it, revealing her substantial cleavage to my eyes. Her glittering blue eyes stared up at me, waiting for a reaction. I felt her try to prod into my mind, but I held her back. I was not some child of one or two hundred. I had been a vampire long before the land I stood on was discovered. She was only a novice compared to me.
I allowed a little of the crimson liquid to slide down my upturned chin and down my throat. She wasn’t the only one who could play games. I saw her eyes follow the trail and she licked her lips. Her breathing accelerated slightly as she let her guard down enough for me to slip into her mind.
It was a jumble of images, fabricated by her own lust for me. It was us in a bed, feeding our carnal desires. I fed the fantasies with my own twists. In her mind I was bent over her, drinking from her naked neck, as she let me invade her body with mine. I added a bit of my imagination and her dream self was bound at my will and my dream self teased her hard nipples and my fingers brushed lower over her belly.
“Stop that, you two, you’re making me sick.”
I released Annabelle from her mind and turned to Henry. He glared at me for a moment before he turned to Annabelle.
“Father is waiting for a drink,” Henry said to her.
Annabelle gasped and buttoned up the top of her small shirt to hide her cleavage. She poured a glass and took it quickly to the front where I could sense Conrad Whittington waiting.
Henry turned on me. “Leave my sister alone,” he snarled, fangs dropping to sharp points.
“I did nothing,” I said as I turned to the sink to wash out the used glasses. I felt Henry approach me from behind. I tried to ignore him, but his long nails caressed my neck, leaving red trails of blood that healed quickly.
“You had better not do anything or I’ll break you in half,” Henry hissed.
He was gone quickly, leaving me gasping from the force his anger pressed on me. I closed my eyes for a moment, wondering why I even put up with this treatment.
I knew exactly why. It was because this restaurant was owned by Conrad Whittington, the vampire whose father had fed from my human body. Conrad had only been the same age as Henry when I was turned, and his father, Dominic Whittington had been the one to choose me. After they had discovered that I survived the torrent of the ritual, Dominic had taken me into his home and watched over me until my sickness passed and I became what I am now. I didn’t age in body after that, but Dominic did. A few hundred years after I became a vampire, he looked old enough to be my grandfather instead of my father, and he was killed by hunters while leading them away from Conrad and me.
I cleaned the dishes quickly, a little help from the large dishwasher nearby. I felt the passion below wane and fade as vampires filed out of the King’s Horses, leaving a dead human for me to dispose of.
I walked to the front as the clock struck three. I had another hour before I was off and I wanted to leave as soon as I could. I found Henry speaking with a tall man dressed in an elegant suit of black with a cane. Conrad Whittington, my brother and boss, stood with all masculine beauty in the center of the King’s Horses, bathed in the soft glow of the lights. His face was pleasing to the eye. His dark blue eyes held the knowledge of thousands of years, as well as the scars of his age. His black hair was tied back into a braid the fell to his belt. He looked like a vampire from one of the human movies, all elegance and grace with an air of seductive mystery.
“Mickey,” he greeted me with a knowing smile.
“Connie,” I said in return.
He smiled widely and moved forward to embrace me in a brotherly fashion. I returned the hug and clapped his back. He pulled back and looked down at me. His dark eyed lightened slightly as he looked around the King’s Horses.
“Everything seems to be in good shape,” Conrad said.
“You’ve only been gone two weeks,” I reminded him. “How was Germany, by the way?”
Conrad smiled. “I’ll tell you later,” he said. “Finish up your duties and then we can talk at my home.”
I nodded and went back for a mop and a trash bag to clean up the mess in the basement. I felt Henry’s glare on my back as I made my way to the entrance in the storeroom.


I stretched as the sun peeked through my window and woke me up. I breathed deeply, and sighed. I didn’t want to get out of bed, but I was out of bread and cheese and the lunch meat I had bought was getting low. I knew I was running out of money. My uncle had slipped me about a thousand dollars before I was out of Canada (most of which was spent on getting this house and the car), and thus my urgent need for a job. It had been over a week since I had entered the King’s Horses and given my application to the strange man in the restaurant. I eventually convinced myself to get up and into the shower.
I stared at myself in the mirror. My damp hair was pulled back into a bun to keep it from soaking the shoulders of my t-shirt. I turned from the mirror and left the bathroom. I grabbed my jacket and slipped it on as I left the house.
The sound of the phone inside made me growl with frustration. I dug my key out of my pocket and slipped it into the lock.
“Hold on, hold on,” I muttered. “I’m coming.”
I pushed open the door and dashed to the phone.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Hello, I’m calling for Bianca Weller.”
It was a woman on the other side of the line and she sounded professional.
“Yes?”
“You put in an application for the King’s Horses Restaurant.”
“Oh, yes,” I said. “Of course.”
“I was wondering if you could come in sometime for an interview,” said the woman.
“Yes, I sure can.” I felt my heart flutter with excitement, but I tried to calm down. It was just an interview, it didn’t mean anything.
“Are you free today at three?”
“Yes,” I answered, my hand twisting in the cord.
“Then I will see you then,” said the woman. “Just ask for Mary.”
“All right,” I said.
She hung up and I did the same. I let out a squeal of excitement and jumped up and down a few times.
“Yes!” I cried to the walls. “I will not fail this!”
~~~
I lingered outside for a while, finishing my cigarette. I knew it was a bad habit, but after a few hundred years, one can’t quit overnight. I stared up at to the sky. The stars were faint with the city lights blocking them out and the moon was half full with the waxing cycle.
The door suddenly opened and I jumped to the side so it wouldn’t hit me. I turned to glare at the person who had nearly hit me, but stopped when my gaze fell on a girl in the same uniform I wore walking out.
“Oh, sorry,” she said.
I nodded and moved aside, anger forgotten. It was that girl from before. I tried to remember her name, but it took me a moment.
Bianca Weller.
“Excuse me,” she said as she slipped past me. I watched as she made her way to the small car she drove and glanced back.
Our eyes met. I prodded a little into her mind and sensed a little unease…and something more. She turned away quickly and got into her car, driving away.
I smirked, tossing away the rest of my cigarette. I entered the restaurant with the lingering scent of humans still tainting the room. I watched as the last humans were coaxed form the place by Henry’s gentle nudging.
“When did that girl get hired?” I asked Annabelle.
“Bianca? Oh, she’s been working mornings the past few days,” Annabelle said as she pulled up her skirt and folded down the waist. “She applied for evening shift, but Mary wanted to make sure she knew what she was doing before she had to work the dinner rush.”
I nodded and punched in. I felt Henry behind me.
“Make sure to clean good before the clientele arrive,” his seductive purr washed over me.
It was ineffective, but I still went to grab a washcloth and a broom. I worked quickly for the next hour as the King’s Horses was turned from a nice family atmosphere into a dim dream of seduction and lust. The lights were lowered and the cushions were covered with soft velvet and silk cloths covered the tables. The place was a human’s wet dream and a vampire’s feeding ground. It was a paradise for some. But for me, it was a reoccurring nightmare of memories and sorrow.

I bent double and groaned as I felt the beginnings of my transformation. My bones snapped, lengthened and reshaped. My skin stretched and tore, finally sealing over my bones and sprouting dark gray fur. My spine lengthened and a tail appeared behind me. My nose and mouth surged forward into a muzzle. My ears grew and climbed up my head. I itched, I ached, I wanted to run in the surrounding forests. But the heavy locks on the cellar door prevented that. The only way I would have a chance to get out was the small window at the back of the cellar where the full moon’s light entered and bathed the room in a soft glow.
I dug a bit into the tattered old pillows I had stacked in the corner. As long as no humans came into the area, I would be safe. I had eaten a lot before entering my cellar so my stomach wouldn’t make me do something rash. All I could do was wait for the moon to release its hold on my body.
Before I left home, during the full moons I would run through the forests with my family and play with the younger pups. We were all an extended family with cousins, brothers, sisters, and parents. We lived longer than humans, and our strength was almost double that of any human. We could run for hours on end and never get tired. The nights were as clear as day and we would follow our noses wherever we thought smelled nice. My sense of smell as a human was also stronger, though not as strong as in my current form.
I had often laughed at the human films depicting werewolves as furry men with claws and fangs. Perhaps we looked like that somewhere during the transformation, but once it was complete, we were nothing more than large, shaggy wolves on the outside. We were not the bloodthirsty half animals humans portrayed us as. We killed deer and other large herbivores to feed ourselves, like any other wolf pack would do. Occasionally, if the pickings were scarce, we would prey upon the cows raised by farmers, and that’s when we were hunted. They shot at us with guns and ran us out of their forests. I had lost my grandfather, Tristan, and a cousin, Joanne, to the bullets of humans.
I sneezed mightily in the musty room, feeling the pang of sadness from those memories. I suppressed the urge to howl, to call my family for comfort. They were too far away to hear my call anyway.
As I found myself often doing, I compared myself and my clan to those movies that held only half truths. Yes, we could be injured by silver. Some genetic allergy that passed down through our lycanthropic blood caused us to break out and suffer from the touch, much like human allergies to certain substances or plants. So, of course, silver bullets will kill us if not pulled out in time. Obviously any kind of bullet to the heart would kill anyone. On some rare occasions, a pup is born without the allergy. Julian had been without the allergy, but it hadn’t matter in the end.
I scratched my neck and settled down again. I didn’t have fleas, just dry skin. I should have put a bowl of water out.
I went back to my thoughts. The night was almost half over and I had barely distracted myself from the fact that I was alone and far from my family and friends. Humans were nice companions, but they feared my kind. I had seen it in the town near the mountains where I had lived. They still had superstitions about my kind, and we had to be careful when going to the town to buy clothes and food. They were afraid of being turned into what we were.
That was another thing that had always made me laugh at the movies. Humans were not strong enough to stand the pain of transformation. They would have died from the blood loss and agony. Our blood is thicker than humans’ blood. Our blood clots faster, which makes people believe that we have regenerative powers. But it’s not true. We just have thicker blood. Then the pain alone is enough to drive a human mad. The ache of my bones twisting has always been part of me. Ever since my first transformation from human to wolf, my mother had taught me to block the pain from my mind.
I smiled slightly, as much as a wolf can smile. I had been born a human and turned into a wolf for my first time when I turned seven. It had been painful, and I had wanted to die right then, but my parents and the others of my clan had made sure to keep my mind off of it. Now the transformations were little more than annoying every month.
I suddenly felt the pull of the moon lessen as the small window darkened with the moon’s disappearance. The wolf body held for a moment before I felt the familiar transformation back to human begin.

I entered my apartment and locked the door. It was dark, but I saw as if it were midday, but without the hazard of the sun. I moved about freely. There was little in the room. I had a couch and a coffee table. In front of that, a table held a television and an alarm clock radio. There was nothing too personal in the main room. In the kitchen, I had a large refrigerator that held food there for decoration. Occasionally I would eat, but it was too much of a hassle to keep my digestive system working. Since vampires didn’t eat solid food past their fifteenth year, when their bodies swiftly changed from young children to teenagers, only a few of them ate food. It kept their digestive systems from changing completely to a blood and liquid diet. My own system was slowly rejecting the semi-solid food I ate on occasion, and I would soon have to either give up food or start eating more. A smaller fridge was shoved into the space where the old dishwasher had been. It held my supply of blood that I pilfered from the stores of hospitals or blood banks.
I went to my bedroom and finally turned on a light. The room was small, mostly taken up by my bed and a dresser. My bed was not like the ones often used by my kind. It was a normal human bed. Usually they were enclosed with heavy wood, like a coffin. That was where the legend came from, I believe. But the coffins of vampires were often as large as a full sized bed and deep enough for one to roll over in comfortably.
I changed out of my uniform and into a comfortable pair of jeans and a light sweater. I made myself a small glass of type O and sat in front of the television.
The morning shows urged my to buy their products. I flipped through the channels until the news came on.
“Our top story this morning, the body of a local businessman, Randal James, was found in a dumpster behind the courthouse,” said the newswoman. “Police believe he was murdered and dumped there, but they are saying no more about the pending investigation.”
I glanced at the clock, then at the one of the only window in the apartment. It was covered completely with a blanket covering the glass and a slab of wood nailed up over that. I put another decorative curtain inside where anyone taking a quickly glance around wouldn’t think too much of it. Every window was covered the same way. After all, since the sun was up, even a little beam getting through could burn me up.
Finishing my drink, I stood and dropped it in the sink, filling it so the blood wouldn’t stick. I left it in the sink and made my way to my bed turning off the TV as I passed.
I lay under the soft sheets thinking. They had found the body from the last ritual. The sandy haired man Marta had seduced into the King’s Horses had been a particularly annoying body to hide. Someone had almost seen me dumping him into the dumpster and now it was found. I had hoped for a little more time before discovery. That dumpster was emptied every other day since it was rarely used. Apparently someone had lost something inside or the heat had caused the body to thaw sooner than expected. It had been unseasonably warm recently.
But nothing would link Randal James to my kind. I had been careful to erase any evidence. It was a method I had developed over centuries of disposing bodies. With new technologies, I had been forced to reinvent ways to hide vampires from humans. Fortunately, not many humans believed in the existence of my kind. Though some clans were obvious (like the Martinez clan in Mexico who preferred the blood of goats and other livestock to humans), but skeptics covered their trails as easily as I had covered mine.
I rolled onto my stomach and wrapped my arms around my pillow. I didn’t have to worry about the body anymore. It was gone and nothing could be done about the discovery.
Then why did I feel so weird?
I rolled back onto my back, still clutching the pillow. It was a lingering itch in the back of my mind, and it made me feel strange. It was as if I couldn’t stop moving, like I had something urgent to take care of. But there was hardly anything a vampire needed to hurry about.
I pressed the pillow to my face and growled. I only wanted to sleep! Why wasn’t this feeling leaving me?
I sat up quickly and threw the pillow at the bedroom door. It rattled on its hinges as the pillow slid to the floor with a small thud that echoed in my ears. I sighed and curled up under the covers in a vain attempt to sleep.

The place was finally emptying as I finished up the final duties of my shift. It had been a slow night, and as soon as Henry had arrived with Annabelle, the others had left, save for me and one of the chefs.
I heard the door open again, the bell tinkling slightly as it alerted Annabelle at the counter. I heard her giggle. It was kind of strange. She should have been too young to work overnight. Annabelle looked like she was still in high school. Wasn’t that illegal?
“Hi, Micheau,” her musical voice greeted.
I looked in the reflection of a dark window and saw the young man standing at the door. He faced the counter where I could just see Annabelle leaning over it. I felt a familiar shiver run through my body. It wasn’t the same as when Henry was around. This was something else.
Annabelle continued to talk. They were quiet, but my hearing is better than any human’s.
“You look like hell, Mickey,” Annabelle said.
“Don’t call me Mickey,” Micheau muttered as if it were an automatic response. “I couldn’t get to sleep.”
Annabelle straightened out of my sight. “Did you have some company?” she asked.
Micheau stared at Annabelle and said nothing for a moment. He finally shook his head.
“No,” he said. “I don’t have time for company.”
I released the breath I hadn’t realized I held. I finished sweeping the lobby and stowed away the broom. Annabelle and Micheau ignored me.
“You can go now,” Henry said as I passed the office. I noticed the night chef was there, a man with pale features and a bald head. I didn’t know his name, but his black eyes glittered as he watched me.
I clocked out while Annabelle watched me. I saw Micheau hanging a sign on the door. I knew that at night, the restaurant was only open to people in a certain club. I didn’t know what club, but it must have been a rich one. I had wondered, at first, if I could put up with Henry’s creepy presence to see if I should work overnight and perhaps get some bigger tips, but I had decided that the sun was more enjoyable when I was awake.
Micheau’s back wad turned to me as I waited for him to finish hanging the sign. I had seen Micheau every night since I started evening shift. He wasn’t as creepy as Henry, but he was mysterious. I had seen him smoking before, standing just outside the door with a Camel in his hand. He didn’t look older than twenty, but his eyes seemed as old as my father’s. His black hair was always tied back, but looked like it was a little longer than shoulder length when down. He was taller than me, though I wasn’t at all short.
Micheau pushed open the door and held it open. He looked at me. It felt as if he were staring through me. I forced a smile and strode out, thanking him as I passed. He said nothing, as usual.
I glanced back, but he was already walking toward the counter. I sighed and turned, running right into a wall of darkness.
“Oh, sorry,” said the wall.
I took a step back and stared up at a finely dressed man with long dark hair and dark blue eyes that glittered in the lamplight. He smiled and I felt a shudder run up my spine.
“It was my fault,” I forced out. “I should have been paying attention.”
“Quite all right,” said the man.
“Come on, Conrad,” said the woman hanging on his arm. I hadn’t noticed her before. She was beautiful with long black hair that hung straight to her waist and over her shoulders. She smiled kindly, but I could sense that it was forced. Her slanted, brilliant green eyes looked at me as if I were a pest. I was, probably, but she didn’t have to look at me with such distaste. She wore a long elegant dress of dark green that had a split up one leg to her hip and a low neck where a silver necklace hung. I wanted to raise my hackles and growl, but I suppressed that urge and skirted around them and toward my car. My sharp ears heard the woman speak as they entered the restaurant.
“Really, Conrad, you can’t go messing up your clothes with filth like that,” said the woman.
Conrad laughed a little. “It was nothing, Natalia, really…”
The rest of his words were cut off as the door closed. I walked to my car with dignity and got it. I started the engine and sat there, tears running down my cheeks. I hated the feelings that washed over me. That woman had no right to talk about me like that. I felt the urge to transform and tear out her throat. I smiled as I fantasized about hunting her down, smelling the fear that came from her as I would tackle her and claw her pretty face.
I blinked and snapped out of my violent reverie. I couldn’t think like that. It was dangerous among my kind to think like that. Anger often triggered a transformation, and I couldn’t afford to lose control.
I left the parking lot, my tears under control, but in the back of my mind, I still hunted that woman Natalia.

It was a pleasant surprise to have Conrad and his wife, Natalia, in the King’s Horses. The other vampires were much more subdued with the presence of a clan leader hovering over them. I got no trouble from the friskier vampires and Annabelle didn’t flirt with me once. Henry was kept at bay. He knew his place when his father was around. But when Conrad left, it would go back to being the way it always is, me being told to do most of the work because I wasn’t a pureblood. I allowed it. I respected Conrad as a friend and brother, and I would hope that even though I look younger than them, the children of the Whittington family would respect me the same way they respected their father. Mostly, it was in vain.
“Micheau, my brother,” Conrad called. “Come sit with me.”
I glanced at Henry. He looked angry, but said nothing. I walked over to Conrad and Natalia and sat down.
“I’ll get straight to business,” Conrad said. “You know the conference between the clans is almost upon us.”
I nodded. It was the meeting that took place once every few hundred years. The clan leaders joined together to keep peace between clans, and perhaps join a few together through marriage. Conrad and Natalia had been joined together at the last meeting, five hundred years ago. Natalia had been part of the Yamamoto clan in the land of the rising sun before meeting Conrad.
“How long will you be gone?” I asked.
“It really depends on the amount of time it takes for everyone to gather and discuss. I’m only going to keep the peace between my clan and the MacLeod clan. You remember the last conference when Justin said I was allowing my clan to feed on too many humans.”
“I remember,” I said.
“I want you to come with me this time,” Conrad said as he took a sip of his drink. “I could use the moral support. Not to mention most of the older vampires are a little too stuffy for my tastes.”
“And you think I’ll be better company?” I asked.
“Of course,” Conrad said with a smile.
I smiled in spite of myself. Sometimes it just felt good to be wanted.
“I’ll think about it,” I said as I stood. “But I have to get back to work before Henry threatens to dock my pay.”
“You don’t have to work, Mickey,” Conrad said. “You are always free to live with us. I don’t see why you chose to go out on your own.”
“I prefer it,” I said.

© Copyright 2008 Kera L (keralarentia at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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