In a dark apartment a young pale woman stands at the bedside of two lovers lost in each others’ arms.
Elena was annoyed to find him in bed with another woman and she stood above the pair, sneering at their bodies flicking with dream.
She reminisced on how she had met her pet. There was something in those initial exchanges which had skewed the usual hunter-prey relationship.
The hotel was convenient to the airport, inhabited largely by those passing through, waiting for flights. Every moment they spent here was in between episodes of their real lives, twiddling their time with drink. The lighting of the hotel bar had been patchy and diffused like an opening within a forest, though pervaded with a more man-made odour of decomposition. Tall mushroom tables and neighbouring stools were casually scattered around the room. Shadowy clefts at the back housed booths for the eternal drinkers, slouched in one way or another like marionettes cut loose.
In the strongest light, decorated with brigades of glasses and ranks of varicolored bottles, a singular flower sat by the bar, slender and with the palest skin. There she was, her milky decolletage a graceful hanger for a curvaceous dress, delicate as moonlight.
She felt him watching her at the bar for some time and wondered what thoughts passed through his mind. Will he, won’t he? Perhaps her seductress outfit was a bit strong for him, a looking-for-a-lover black dress with viciously delicate lace bands pushed down from her elbows.
Let’s see, she thought, beginning to pigeonhole her victim. Nearly thirty, clothes unpressed from his suitcase, not tailor made but not inexpensive. This man operated on a certain swindler level, like a salesman, or perhaps a representative, someone trying to exude trust. His demeanour was harder to analyse, as he’d performed little action beyond sipping at his beer and idolising her curvature. He stunk of three drinks without eating, his pulse slightly languid.
In a snap decision she broke her cardinal rule and approached him.
‘I felt you looking.’
The man paused to gather a response without too much denial, ‘You seem dressed to be looked at.’
‘A compliment?’
‘As you wish.’
‘May I join you?’ she purred.
‘I won’t say no.’
‘Why didn’t you come over and say hi? Do you just admire from afar or are you scared of rejection?’
‘Perhaps a bit of both, but I’m not used to women so obviously on the hunt.’ Demurely, she lowered her eyelashes and flashed him a grin. ‘Then again,’ he smiled back, ‘It could just be one of those weeks.’
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
‘Somehow that doesn’t seem to be your style.’
‘True, but I don’t mind trying new things.’ Despite herself, Elena was enjoying this one’s manner. His undisguised fatalism seemed so foreign to her, and appealing.
‘Perhaps we should share a drink up in my room?’
‘I thought we were talking?’ Elena was actually surprised at her own disappointment.
‘Maybe we can do both. But when there is a foregone conclusion I don’t believe in waiting for things to happen.’
Later on, in the moment of climax, she sank her teeth into his neck, draining him to his second-last breath. He would never mention it to anyone, of that she was sure.
Christian was so much more than a morsel. Over time he had become her supreme confidant and a foil for her solipsism.
‘Wake up Christian.’ She murmured and tickled the soft flesh of his ear lobe. ‘Get rid of her before I throw her out the window.’ This too, failed to wake him and she was forced to pinch until the tender flesh ruptured and he woke with a yelp.
‘Holy fuck — Elena??’ He clutched at his torn ear and looked fearfully at his waking partner. ‘What is it?’ she was asking, still two-thirds asleep.
‘Get rid of her.’ Elena commanded again, licking the red drops off her nails. Christian hurriedly collected the other woman’s stranded clothes and forced her out the front door before she was dressed.
He came back naked and scratching himself. ‘I’m sorry Elena, I didn’t know when, or even if, you were coming back. I haven’t seen you in months.’ He counted quickly. ‘I haven’t seen you in eight months.’
‘It doesn’t bother me.’
‘You’re not jealous?’
‘Why would I be jealous? You don’t get jealous when your dog finds a mate.’
‘I don’t have a dog.’ He smiled at her.
‘How about you have a shower. You stink of her.’
Elena partially undressed as he was in the bathroom and waited with her thoughts. Nothing of much interest to her, just the same merry-go-round of musings she constantly rode.
Elena had long ago realised the inconsequence of human sufferings. She had no risk of children, or disease. For her, pain was exquisite and it was hardly possible to kill her. The immortal loves battle, and is always hunting. Her blood made her like this. Sometimes she could almost enjoy the hot prickle of the early sunlight – though it felt like chillies rubbed into raw skin if one stopped for too long. It was only in the mind though. With age and exposure perhaps she would be able to stand it for longer, others could. She nearly hated her body and punished it with minute tortures, as she preened and primmed. What did she loathe exactly? Maybe just the physicality of it all. I live in my head, and yet here is this body and this world.
Any interested observer might have suggested she looked close human perfection, but Elena didn’t feel human. Couldn’t even remember what that was like, and wasn’t inclined to try. Even this language we use is so entrenched with the humans’ inevitable and pitiful death. There was no old age, no natural causes, no decrepitude or memory loss. Immortality was such a hopeful concept in human language it could only mystically convey that she could go on this way, in perfect stasis, for as long as she could bear it.
Christian came back wrapped in a towel, fresher but still permeated with the smell of the other woman.
‘Would you be jealous if it was another vampire sharing your pet?’
‘I wish you wouldn’t refer to me as that.’
‘I apologise. I’m meant another of the blood.’ He corrected adding a little b-grade pomp to the term.
‘I am not in the mood for your irreverence.’ She arched a warning eyebrow at him.
‘That’s all I thought I had to offer you. Besides the requisite services.’
Elena didn’t exactly answer, though her eyes lowered and her breathing shallowed. He knew the look, knew when he was prey — playful prey at least. He threw a lamp at her as she launched herself at him. She batted it aside and pinned him to the ground, rummaging his towel open and roughly pushing his head back to expose his neck. He had such a lovely neck …
When next they spoke, his head lay on her stomach, her fingers twirling his curly hair while he tried to fend off dizziness. ‘So why are you here?’
‘I’m not sure I should tell you. You’re already too familiar.’
‘What harm can I do?’
‘Dorian summoned me.’
‘Summoned you? What does that mean?’
‘It’s hard to explain. It’s like a persistent thought, or a dream you remember when you awake. You start to see something different than what’s in front of you.’
‘I know what that’s like.’ He grinned and nuzzled her pubic hair.
‘Close the blinds will you?’
‘Is that code for something?’
‘No, I mean, close the blinds. I don’t want the light to hit me.’
‘I thought the sunlight didn’t bother you?’
‘I said it doesn’t kill me, it still hurts. Now get the blinds.’ He didn’t need to be told four times and stood straight up. Perhaps a little too quickly. Abruptly he fell back down with a thud. ‘Christian? Christian?’ she repeated, lifting his head up and patting his face. Had she taken too much from him?
He cocked one eye open. ‘So you do care?’
‘You little– I was just concerned for my property.’ She stood quickly, dropping his head to hit the parquet for real this time. ‘I should go.’
‘Why don’t you stay?’ He stood, pulling the blinds shut and getting himself a glass of juice. ‘At least until it’s dark.’
‘No — he’ll know how long I waited. It’s okay to stop for a feeding but he’ll wonder if I’m in the city all day without seeing him. Besides, I have to prepare myself.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh, my pet. Not like that. One just doesn’t enter Dorian’s presence without a little pretense.’
‘Will I see you again before you leave?’
‘Who says I’m leaving?’
‘You always leave.’
‘Maybe not this time.’ She nibbled at her lip and panned her head from side to side slowly. ‘Something is changing — and whatever it is, is why Dorian wants me here…I should go.’
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