Vampiric: Chapter Nine, Part 10

“And now to start the year off right for the couples in the crowd,” the DJ announced, starting the music back up with a slow song.

“May I?” she asked hesitantly.

“Why not?”

Caroline spun me in a circle before we started slow dancing. Part of me knew it was dangerous because she probably still liked me, but I always hated sitting out on slow songs. And she was good about keeping it a dance between friends.

“Mind if I cut in?” the cutesy girl—the one Ian had been dancing with earlier—asked. She twisted a blond curl around her finger and ground the toe of her right shoe against the floor.

“For whom?” Caroline asked, though I’m not sure she actually saw the girl.

The girl’s dark eyes darted to the floor. “You.”

“Go ahead;” I stepped back. Caroline eyed the girl, and I could tell she was thinking how this girl was so unlike her past girlfriends. It was healthy for her to be uncertain, though. After they started dancing, I headed to the bar, the energy that had filled me previously replaced by extreme thirst.

“Lime water, please?” I took a seat.

“Hi,” a guy beside me said, slightly waving with the hand not holding his beer.

I nodded, otherwise choosing to ignore him. He was darkly tanned with sun-kissed brown hair and green-blue eyes. “Thanks,” I said to the bartender who handed me my water. I pulled a dollar from my wristlet and left it in the bucket on the counter.

“What’s your name?” he asked as I slipped from the stool and headed to the tables on the other side of the dance floor. I wanted to have fun, not be hit on by some gorgeous stranger. Even as I reminded myself I wasn’t looking for someone—not even to dance with—my mind argued that I still wanted the attention, that it wouldn’t hurt to hear someone tell me I was beautiful.

I caught sight of Ian at a table, but he was busy talking with the uptown miss, occasionally kissing her. The music returned to remixes as I found an empty table. The guy from the bar was following me. Not too close, but he wasn’t trying to disguise it either. I wasn’t sure if I was glad he had followed—if that was a compliment to me that he even would—or if I wished he would just go away. I did know that I wasn’t emotionally ready to deal with him. I had just started dealing with my other problems.

“Anyone sitting there?” He flashed me a dazzling smile. Pretending not to hear, I wondered if it’d be easier to turn him away if he didn’t look so handsome. Taking my silence as a no, he sat, sitting his beer on the table and saying, “Now, a lovely lady like you should have a name.”

Taking a sip from my water, I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. “Not one you need to know.”

He leaned forward on his elbows, capturing my gaze for a moment before I pulled away and stared at the crowd. “I’m Dominic, but everyone calls me Dom.”

“Well, Dom,” I said, glancing around again as if looking for someone, “I’m not interested.”

Dom didn’t say anything, but he pulled his chair closer to mine. One of his fingers trailed down my forearm, sending goose bumps along my skin. “You will be,” he insisted, the words just audible over the music.

I pulled my arm away from him, finishing my drink. At this point, I had two options. One of them I knew was the wrong choice, so I went in search of Caroline.

“Lovely, lovely lady,” he called, grabbing my hand and twisting me into his embrace. He was strong; I could feel the muscles in his arms flex around me. His body against mine was hard and sculpted. I wouldn’t have minded staying there if the proximity hadn’t reminded me of Drei. Of our dance lessons and how those often resulted in kisses.

“Let go,” I demanded, struggling to hold myself together. All I wanted now was to be home. To go to sleep and hope I could stop finding him everywhere. It didn’t seem possible I could go from being okay with thinking about him to being close to tears because of one stranger. I hated it.

“What’s the matter, lovely lady?” I could feel his eyes scanning my face as I tried to find Caroline. If I could see her, I could send her a message. I could ask her to make him stop, because I couldn’t without drawing too much attention and I was technically supposed to be dead.

His lips found mine and, for a brief moment, I was caught up in the alcoholic smokiness of his breath before it started to choke me; smoke turned out to be far worse than water. I tried pushing him away, breaking from his embrace, but he wouldn’t let go; I knew tears weren’t too far off. Blanketing the room, I searched for Caroline that way, trying to ignore his nipping at the base of my neck. His lips were tickling my skin, bordering on being consummately distracting. And in all the wrong ways.

“Caroline,” I whispered, finally finding her in the crowd. She turned in my mapping, apologizing to her partner. “Stop,” I said, trying to pull away.

“Why are you crying?” he asked stupidly before his head jerked backwards.

“Maybe because she doesn’t like being treated like that,” Caroline yelled, yanking on his hair some more. I couldn’t imagine what he was feeling but waves of heat were washing from her and the people nearby were backing away. He let go, pain etched across his face.

Without staying around to hear whatever she was saying to him, I pushed my way through the crowd, trying to find my way out. I couldn’t stay here. I had to go. I needed fresh air, to breathe, to try and slow my racing pulse.

Someone grabbed my hand from in the crowd and pulled me along. Ian glanced back at me. “No worries, love,” he said, smiling grimly. He didn’t let go of my hand until we were outside. I wished we were at the beach still so I could walk out over the water, inhale the heavy sea breeze and calm down. But we weren’t at the beach. And all I could inhale was the stale city air, traces of smoke finding its way into my lungs.

Caroline wasn’t far behind us, running to catch up. When she did, she wrapped her arms around me saying, “God, Abs. That was awful. I’m so—”

I tore out of her embrace, not wanting her to touch me. At that moment, I couldn’t stand her. Drei wasn’t here because of her. And though Dom wasn’t her fault, being at that club was. In that instant, I could have blamed her for almost anything. We had toasted to a happier New Year and it was already worse.

“What’s wrong, Abs?” she asked, her voice soft and pained.

Waving it off, I knew the wisest thing to do was to not say anything. So, filled with anger and a renewed hurt, I hailed a cab back to the apartment, wishing more than ever she would have let me move out.

Vampiric: Chapter Nine, Part 9

Caroline hooked her arm around my waist as we entered the club. She knew the bouncer so we didn’t have to wait in line with everyone else. Ian draped an arm over her shoulders and asked if we wanted any refreshments.

“I’ll take a Jack and Coke,” Caroline said over the din.

“For you, love?”

“Water, please.”

As he slipped past us toward the bar, Caroline led me through the crowd of gyrating bodies. I could barely hear myself think over the music and shouts of friends ready to find a new scene. Streamers and nets of balloons decorated the ceiling. The tables were covered in New Year confetti. Picking up some of the plastic confetti, I sprinkled it in Caroline’s hair.

“Now you look festive;” I giggled. She was about to the do the same to me when I stopped her hand and reminded her, “You dressed me for tonight. No confetti.”

Flicking her wrist, it ended up in my hair anyway. “Now I’m done dressing you,” she teased, grinning.

She had come into my room before we left and insisted what I had put together wasn’t right for New Years. Then digging through my closet, she picked out a sleek, strapless black dress and a pair of slingback heels. Grabbing my brush, she pulled my straightened hair out of its bun and smoothed it out, saying it looked sexy. Dusting a touch of foundation over the scars on my arms—not the first time she had seen them—she deemed me ready to go out.

Caroline was decked out in an off the shoulder number, crimson red to match her flowing hair. Even the soles on her black kitten heels matched. Ian had whined on the drive over about how he hated the dress shirt she picked out for him while she complained about his hat. She let him keep it because I told her it matched. It didn’t stop her from pouting a little, though.

Ian set the drinks on the table. “Here we go—” He repressed a laugh and Caroline scowled at him. “I didn’t think we’d be wearing the décor.” We both threw confetti at him for that, laughing as some of it stuck to his cap.

“To half an hour left in this year,” Caroline toasted when he sat down, raising her drink.

“To a better year,” I added, lifting my lime water—Ian insisted it was the only way they would serve water tonight.

“And to happiness,” Ian tossed in, clinking his margarita against our glasses—he claimed New Years was the one time of year he condoned drinking.

When our drinks were finished, Caroline pulled us both from our seats and onto the dance floor, sliding between pairs and groups to the center. There she started her dance, seeming to spread this energy to Ian and I, possibly even to those around us as well, so that we joined her. It felt strange and exhilarating to just move, to thrive on energy I didn’t know I had. At some point, I realized Ian had left us to dance with a fabulous looking guy. A few moments later, the guy had been traded for a cutesy girl who looked barely 21.

“Which is he?” I asked Caroline over the music.

“Anything and everything. Nothing when he feels like it.” She twirled me around. “Sometimes I wish I could be like that and just not care. But I do.”

“Me, too,” I said, spinning her around.

The music stopped and the DJ announced there was one minute until midnight. Caroline dragged Ian away from his new partner—an older looking woman with high cheek bones who held herself with poise and elegance, as though she was either famous or very wealthy.

“My favorite girls,” he said, wrapping his arms around us.

“Eight…”

The crowd had already started the countdown. I joined in, but I suddenly didn’t feel right. It felt like this happiness would disappear before the night’s end. I didn’t want that to happen, but I couldn’t stop it either; I resented being able to tell.

“Three…two…one!”

Caroline and I kissed Ian on the cheek and he kissed each of us on the forehead as the balloons and more confetti rained down upon us.

“Happy New Year, loves,” he wished, hugging us tight before disappearing to his uptown partner and kissing her before the minute changed.

“Happy New Year,” I wished Caroline, trying not to let this sensation ruin the evening.

“Same to you,” she said, smiling, failing to notice something had changed. I guessed that was a good thing, though; it was better not to dampen her mood. She should enjoy the party. “And may this one be better for your heart.”

Vampiric: Chapter Two, Part 2

Drei must have sensed my unease after leaving the meeting with Caroline because he made a point of spending more time with me. During the days he was teaching me the tango, his aggravation at my inability to close my feet on the fifth step kept at bay until I finally managed to remember. After successfully completing the step for nearly half an hour, Drei added music to the formula, swiftly taking off into a more complex tango, my feet following obediently, only occasionally stumbling. At those times, he smiled, telling me I was doing wonderfully, and slowed down until I was comfortable again.

After dancing for what felt like an hour, he smiled approvingly, spinning me out and back in, kissing me as I stopped in his embrace. Neither of us pulled away, too content in being close. If things continued as such, I thought I might be able to overlook Caroline’s negativity altogether. If nothing else, it was bringing us closer, even if there was still a nagging voice in the back of my head telling me I had to be cautious.

Ballroom dancing was a way we could be close without necessarily drawing attention to our relationship. The tradeoff was, of course, when we went out at night, I taught Drei how to dance to regular music, and sometimes he added his own twist of classical dance. Though he did try his best, his attempts were humorous as he tried to add familiarity to the new. He often teased this “new dancing” was a cruel joke to make a fool of him.

The day before we were supposed to meet Caroline for her project, Drei and I went walking. He judged it was safe for him since the sun was hidden behind the heavy white-gray clouds. I still wasn’t sure about his tolerance to light. He had once told me sunlight didn’t matter; now it seemed to matter and, though I was curious, he would probably shrug it off as being unimportant.

When we were halfway through the park, it began to snow. I ran out to the center of the open field where snow from earlier in the week still lay peacefully. There, I spun in circles, holding my arms out.

Snow was the one form of precipitation that didn’t make me feel like I was suffocating. Rain made the air heavier and, since air was as much a part of me as my skin and hair and thoughts, it always depressed me. But snow was different. It was solid enough to affect me much like falling leaves—which wasn’t at all.

Drei stood on the cleared path, watching. I stopped, the corners of my lips curling upwards.

“Come on,” I shouted across the distance, waving my arm in a huge arc. “Dance with me.”

“No thank you,” he replied, smiling, his hands buried in his coat pockets.

“Fine,” I said, bending down to scoop up a handful of snow.

“Do not—” Drei’s sentence fell flat as the snowball smashed against his shoulder. At first, he just stared at the clumps of white embedded in the crevices of his coat, bright against the dark material. In one swift motion, he scooped up a handful of snow and tossed it in my direction.

A yelp escaped my lips as I dodged it, laughing giddily.

“It is unfair,” Drei said, the beginnings of a smile on his lips. He was already throwing another snowball in my direction.

“Fair?” I questioned, changing the course of the snowball. “Bombarding me is what’s unfair.”

A couple more snowballs hit Drei as I blocked whatever he threw my way. Even when he attempted dodging my missiles, I just manipulated the air to make sure they hit their target—his punishment for being so resistant to dancing with me.

“What is unfair,” he said—snow dusted over his slightly shaggy light brown hair—“is the fact you have an advantage.”

“I have no clue what you mean,” I teased, running to a new location that hadn’t been scavenged clean.

His amethyst eyes sparkled as he loudly replied, “And that is why you have yet to be hit at all—”

“I’m just that good.” When I noticed him running towards me, a fistful of snow in his possession, I screeched joyfully, running away from him. Drei caught me fairly quickly, holding me in his free arm and rocking us back and forth.

“I will not use this snow against you,” he said, his features serious, but a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“That’s why you’re still holding it.” I glanced at the clump of snow he still clutched.

“I am still holding it because it told me you deserved this.” I flinched in his grasp as he crushed the snowball on top of my head. He laughed as I shook large chunks out of my hair, my cheeks bright red and cold, both of us wearing veils of snow in our hair. “You cannot avoid me forever.”

“I never said I wanted to.” Our eyes locked on each other.

Everything around us was silent, almost as though it was afraid to interrupt us. All of the laughter and teasing that had echoed in the clearing had faded away. What was left was the soft snowfall and us, together, seemingly suspended in time.

And then he kissed me.

There, in the open, for anyone to see—not that there were many people out for leisurely strolls—in one of the most peaceful settings of which I had ever been a part.

It was a moment free of worry, false pretenses, fear…everything but love.

On the way home, Drei asked, “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

I gazed up at him, unsure how to answer. No matter what, every time I thought about Caroline, or Ian, or the whole faction, I couldn’t shake the feeling something was going to happen. Something was going to ruin what I had with Drei, whether directly or not.

“I don’t know,” I said after a while.

“I will be there with you, every step of the way.” He took my hand in his, stopping to kiss my fingers. His eyes were serious and a darker amethyst than usual. He was right; he would be there. Drei would be at my side so long as I needed him; tomorrow I needed him, more than I had in a long time.

“So long as you’re with me, I’ll be fine.”

Another thought occurred to me as we reached the apartment, though: what if what was going to happen would transpire not because of someone else, but because of Drei?

Vampiric: Chapter One, Part 4

We walked to a classy club with live entertainment, dimmed down lights, and tables tucked into various nooks and crannies. It gave off cozy, romantic vibes. I let those fill me and replace what was left of my nerves.

“You have been extremely diligent in your studies,” Drei said loud enough to be heard over the music. “I think it is time you learn something different.”

“Like what?” I asked, opening my water bottle and taking a drink.

“Classical dance;” he said it with a straight face, which, unfortunately, I wasn’t able to muster myself.

“My mother made me take ballet as a kid.” I grimaced at the memory of my first recital. “It wasn’t pretty.” Pretty really wasn’t the word for it. It had been more like disastrous. Ballet had definitely not been my forte, and I doubted much had changed since then.

“Not ballet;” he smiled, no doubt imagining me in one of those ridiculous tutus falling center stage. “Nor anything of that sort. I meant ballroom, mostly.”

“Like the quickstep and waltz?” I had always wanted to learn ballroom, but the only time my mother condoned it was for debutante balls, and that was mostly the waltz.

“Exactly.”

“Can we start now?” The house band sank into a ballad.

Without waiting for a reply, I stood and pulled Drei along after me. He seemed shocked, and if I stopped to think about it, I probably would have been, too. On the hardwood dance floor, we struck the typical waltz position—it had been so long since I had danced a waltz, he had to correct my posture. At least he was nice about it, smiling bemusedly. It was fortunate the man leads since the variation Drei led me through was different from the ones I had learned.

“Do not look down,” Drei instructed the few times I peeked to make sure I really was following him. He would smile when my eyes returned to his. In those moments, we seemed to be in a separate world, only the music able to slip through. It was enough to make me grateful I had agreed to join him.

When the song ended, Drei smiled approvingly, as though he thought teaching me dancing would be an interesting endeavor. He also seemed to want to kiss me, and tell me I was beautiful or brilliant or some other compliment. I wanted to kiss him too, but not here.

A few couples gawked at us, as though dancing something less vulgar than “the grind” was new to them. Drei either didn’t care or didn’t notice, so I decided not to mention it. It was paranoid of me to think they were taking a special interest in us for other reasons. I realized Drei was right in thinking I needed to go out more. Especially since that was the first thing that came to mind when people looked at me.

On the street, we walked close to each other. I wished it were safer for us to be together and he could put his arm around my shoulders or hold my hand or something. But he couldn’t, and I had to be okay with that.

“You folks having a good night?” a man asked, approaching us slowly.

Drei didn’t stop, completely ignoring the man. As we passed, something about him seemed strange. He was decked out in black cargo pants and a turtleneck, with a black stocking cap pulled partially over his ears in a poor attempt to hide the brilliant red hair beneath. He smiled at me, winking as though I had guessed right and won a prize. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what the prize was.

However, I laid a hand on Drei's forearm, stopping him. His amethyst eyes held mine for a moment, and he understood what I was beginning to. The man was our contact. Whether that was a good thing or not, he was the rabbit we were supposed to follow.

“C wanted me to pick you two up together; didn’t say it would be so difficult,” he said, a slight Irish accent coming through in his speech. “I’ve seen you plenty enough times,” he explained, nodding at Drei. “But you, love, are a hard one to pin down.”

“Where are we going?” I asked, anxious from his rambling.

“Into the car,” he replied, jerking his head in the direction of the nondescript vehicle behind him. He added, in response to my next question, “You’ll see when we get there.”

Drei squeezed my hand briefly in assurance this guy couldn’t do anything to us. It seemed to say we just had to jump through whatever hoops Caroline sat before us. If we could do that, we were in.

“Are you ready?” he whispered, regarding me carefully.

“I trust you,” I said, just as softly. It was the only true answer I had. I wasn’t sure I was ready, or that this was the right thing to do, but I trusted him. Had for years. That was all of which I could be sure.

Sitting in the back seat of the car, watching the nightlife fly by, I realized this was what Drei wanted. He wanted us in on everything, because you can only learn so much from history. I wouldn’t find the answers I needed in old books about past times. If I was going to succeed, I would need firsthand experience with someone working toward change.

I would need Caroline.