Immortal Coil: A Novel (Immortal Trilogy Book 1) (9 page)

“After Michael left the room, I turned to the other boys. ‘What is it these clients want us to do, exactly?’ I asked.

“One boy stared at me for a long time, sizing me up, and then said: ‘Use your imagination newbie,’

“I was not in a good place, no one could ever deny that—me especially—but I was off the Ralph Radar and that was a good thing. I was about a month into my new role when I asked Michael if it was possible for me to sit out one night. I wasn’t feeling up to entertaining that night. He looked at me with this odd expression of pity and disgust, and then he slapped me with the back of his hand. I was grateful it didn’t leave a mark. But then that was the plan, wasn’t it? I had just healed from my beating at home, and I was one of the more attractive boys; so messing up my face was not good business. He only meant to get his point across. ‘Do not presume to tell me how to run my business,’ he said. I ran off to join the others.

“But do you want to know something? That old softy did exactly what I asked and gave me the night off.

“The only adult supervision I had was Michael. The pimp’s breath smelled of stale beer and rotten meat. When he smiled the skin on his wrinkled, unshaven face stretched over his rotted teeth in a purely repulsive mask. His beady black eyes seemed to be looking in two different directions, but never directly at you. His stained and dingy wife-beater rode up over his fat, hairy belly, and he rubbed a hand over the exposed flesh. ‘Got a special client lined up for you: asked for you personally,’ he said to me one day.

“I walked past the nauseating pimp, without looking at him, to the motel room Michael indicated. The room was dark as I entered. I could hear heavy breathing, and could see a dark form in the recliner at the back of the room, past the bed. ‘Turn on the light,’ the shadow said. I thought I recognized the voice. My heart raced, and all I could hear in the dark and quiet room was the blood pounding in my ears. Surely, the shadowy figure could hear it as well.

“‘Turn on the light,’ the shadowy figure said again. I reached out and put my hand on the light switch, but I didn’t flick it just yet. Something was telling me not to; something told me to run out the door and keep running. But that was a bad idea, too. Michael would catch me and the punishment would be severe. Against all reason I flicked on the light.

“The shadowy figure came into view. Stunned, I fell back against the door and started to cry, turning from a streetwise youth to a helpless child in an instant.

“‘I told you I’d find you, boy.’ It was my stepfather.

“I reached back, and tried desperately to locate the doorknob. My stepfather stood and barreled toward me. I worked to get my fear under control. My only concern now was getting the door open and getting away from the murderous man coming at me. Nothing Michael would do could match the brutality my stepfather would show me.

“‘You’re coming home,’ he said, almost sounding sincerely concerned. ‘Your mother is worried sick.’ Then he finished with a snake’s venom: ‘You selfish little bastard.’

“I saw the steel-toed boot bearing down at my head. In the next few seconds either the door would open or the boot would connect with my head and it would all be over anyway. But the door did open and I rolled through the gap just as the boot came down.

“I stumbled to my feet and ran, but even before I could get out of the circle of light cast by the overhead streetlamp, Michael grabbed me by the back of the shirt. I flew backward and crashed into the fat belly. I looked around for help, but all the other boys were in their assigned motel rooms. There was no help. I fell to my knees in front of Michael. I winced when Michael’s meaty palm flew up over his head. I prepared for a beating the likes of which neither my jaw, nor the hand, had ever felt. I turned my head, not wanting to see it coming.

“When the strike didn’t come, I looked up at Michael. I saw the glint of silver seconds before Michael felt the twinge of pain between his shoulder blades. Michael’s hand dropped to his side, and he tried to turn and see what had caused the searing pain in his back. But he couldn’t turn. He was only able to turn around after the eight-inch hunting knife was pulled out of his back. Michael stared in shock and horror as the knife arced down and plunged into his heaving chest. He gaped disbelievingly at the green and black hilt of the hunting knife buried in his chest. I watched as the knife moved with Michael’s still beating heart.

“Then Ralph yanked the serrated blade from the pimp’s chest with a grunt. An atrial spurt splattered his evil face. Michael’s heart must have stopped then, because he dropped to the ground like a stone. His killer reached down and grabbed me by the hair, dragging me back to the motel room.

“‘I’m going to kill you, boy, but not before I have my fun with you first.’ I don’t know if he meant torture, or something even more sinister.

“The door to the motel stood ajar, but he picked me up by the back of the shirt and the seat of my pants, and threw me through the closed window to the left of the door. Glass and wood splinters blew inward as my head crashed through the window’s grid. I could feel small slivers of glass piercing the palms of my hands as I tried to protect his face. I landed on the floor in a bloody heap. The maniac passed through the doorway and picked me up off the floor. He heaved me onto the bed. My head slammed into the wooden post. As the room began to spin and go dark, I saw him advancing on the bed, shedding his pants as he approached.

“‘What I plan to do to you before I kill you will be…’ What he said beyond that I don’t know, because I passed out.

“Sometime later, I woke to semi-darkness. I could feel the bed under me where Ralph had thrown me. My head hurt, my palms hurt, but I could see my stepfather lying in the bed next to me. His face was inches from mine, blocking most of my view. Ralph had an odd look in his eyes: were they pleading with me, as if begging for help.

“I ignored my throbbing head and bleeding palms, and sat up.

“I dove off the bed then, and stumbled backward against the wall. I would have clawed through the plaster if I could.

“I saw a man sitting on Ralph’s chest. The man’s head was down so all I could really see was the hump of his back. After my thudding heart slowed, I could hear something else in the room: a moist sucking sound. Then the sucking stopped, and the man straddling Ralph sat up. He turned toward me. The man’s eyes glowed red, as if a film of blood covered them. His lips were smeared with red, and it dripped from his teeth. With a hysterical laugh, I realized it was blood—my stepfather’s blood.

“‘A vampire,’ I said in a whisper that was more awe than fear.

“The stranger climbed off the bed and licked his bloody lips. He straightened his clothes. He was wearing a light blue button-up shirt, relax-fit jeans and a pair of Italian loafers (no socks). I was only dimly aware that the man’s blood-soaked eyes had cleared, and piercing light gray eyes appeared. I approached cautiously, studying the eyes that had changed so drastically. It was as if they had been filled with blood, and then were suddenly drained.

“The stranger studied me for a moment, and then stepped forward. He took my bleeding hands into his own. Abruptly, the stranger placed his mouth over the wounds on my palms, and sucked at the cuts, spitting out shards of glass. When he was sure I was free of all the glass slivers, he pulled me to the bathroom, located a first aid kit and wrapped the cuts.

“The man spoke. ‘Is there somewhere for you to go?’

“At first I found it hard to speak, but after catching my breath I managed to croak out a reply. ‘Take me with you.’

“The man smiled then but—no—was all he said.

“‘I have nowhere to go. Take me with you. I will die if you don’t.’

“He said, ‘You will die if I do.’

“At first I didn’t understand. Then he turned toward Ralph.

“‘You won’t kill me. Else, you’d have done it already.’

“‘Your stepfather was my third infusion,’ he said. ‘I do not need any more blood tonight. If that were not the case, I could very well have fed on you next.’

“‘I don’t believe that,’ I said defiantly.

“The man smiled the most charming smile. ‘Believe what you wish.’

“‘I believe you will take me with you.’ Now I smiled back. And I’m adorable when I smile, or so I’ve been told.

“The man smiled again, but this time it was a tired smile. ‘Your mother would want you back. You should go back to her.’

“‘She brought
that
into my life.’ I pointed through the open bathroom door at my stepfather. I saw something that shocked me. I stood, headed into the bedroom again. Ralph was sitting up, looking at me. ‘He’s not dead,’ I said.

“The neck had been torn open, and didn’t look like any vampire bite I’d ever seen in the movies. There was a trickle of blood oozing from the ripped skin, but it didn’t look life threatening.

“‘I did not completely drain him, and he has a strong will to live,’ the vampire said. ‘But he does not have enough blood to sustain his life. I must decapitate him in order to keep him from coming back. It’s the only way.’

“I climbed onto the bed. I looked over at the hunting knife lying in the folds of the sheet. Ralph stared at me with glossy eyes—begging eyes.
Please save me,
those eyes said. I leaned down close to his ear.

“I whispered softly into his ear. Thinking of the years of torture and pain, and fear, I endured at his hands I said, ‘Like you said. It’s a dangerous world out there, you should have been careful.’ I picked up the hunting knife. His eyes filled with tears. I dropped the knife away from his neck. When he saw me backing down, a steely resolve replaced the tears. He whispered to me then.
Coward
. He glared at me with the hate he had always shown toward me.

“He wanted me to do it.

“And so I did; I sliced through his neck, hesitantly at first. But soon the knife hit bone, and I made the final push through the spine. I felt a queasy sense of dread afterward, but I had done it. I had shown the vampire I could do it, too.

“I was shocked that so little blood oozed from the neck stump.
The dude really is a vampire
, I thought.
There is hardly any blood left in the body; he drank almost every drop
. I tucked the knife into my belt. I stepped off the bed and turned to face the vampire.

“He didn’t bother looking at Ralph’s body. ‘You cannot come with me,’ he said.

“My shoulders slumped, defeated. My stomach must have growled then; because the vampire gave me an inquisitive look.

“‘You are hungry,’ he said. ‘Let me buy you something to eat. We will talk.’

“He took me to the corner restaurant and bought me a burger and fries. We sat in a corner booth and talked in hushed tones. “My name is Antony,” he said, and explained the details of his existence. He required at least 18 quarts of blood every night upon waking at sundown. If this quantity was not reached, he entered a state of confusion and could attack anything—or anyone—in the vicinity. At that point, choice was off the table for any vampire.

“‘You’re really a vampire.’ I couldn’t stop looking at his protruding fangs. ‘How can no one see what you are?’ I looked around. No one even seemed to know we existed. No one cared who we were, or what we were doing there.

“‘Yes, I am a vampire. I will never get sick, I will never grow old and I will never die; assuming I keep my head, that is.”

I chuckled at this, but I could tell he hadn’t meant what he said as a joke. My laughter turned into a nervous cough. ‘Can the sun kill you?’ I asked. ‘Like in the movies?’”

“He said it could. I asked him how many vampires were in the world.

“‘Very few,’ he said. ‘We are territorial, and if another vampire invades your territory, the turf war is usually bloody and costly—to both vampire and prey.’

“I asked: ‘Do vampires ever work together?’

“‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We team up all the time. We take mates, as well; although not for the same reasons humans do. Vampires take a mate for the comfort of having someone lying next to them during the death sleep.’

“What’s death sleep?’ I asked.

“‘It is what vampires refer to when they sleep during the daylight hours.’

“‘Oh.’ I was too fascinated to say much more.

“He continued. ‘We also join alliances, and can work together for a common cause. A colony of ten or twelve vampires can take out an entire army.”

“‘Are you…?’ I tried to think of a delicate way to ask this next question.

“‘Go on.’ Antony urged me on with that handsome smile again.

“‘Are you evil?’ I said it.

“Antony smiled; it was exactly the question he was expecting, I could tell. He explained that evil was in the act, not the individual. He believed religious fanatics came up with the notion of good and evil in order to explain their own actions.

“Let me hunt for you,” I said it with such conviction, I practically growled it.

“Antony cocked an eyebrow.

“I went on while I had his attention. ‘I can be your daytime lookout; I can scour the streets for just the right victims, read newspapers, and search the internet. By the time you wake at dusk we can have your night planned out. It can’t be easy looking for prey all the time. You need me.’

“Antony seemed to think about this. Then he said no.

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