Why do you insist I’m turning into something
Sunlight streaked across the sky, pounding against my draped eyelids, while the distant echoes of bustling city streets filled the air.
With a start, I pushed myself up onto one arm.
Beneath me, a rigid wooden bench pressed into my weary bones, its unyielding surface digging into every point of contact. Wind rustled the trees above and brushed against my skin, sending goosebumps over my scraped-up arms. The scent of fresh-cut grass wafted through the air, harmonizing with the rhythmic blend of children’s laughter and the metallic creaking of swings in motion. Over the horizon of tall trees, I could barely make out the tops of skyscrapers peeking through.
How’d I end up in a park on the outskirts of town?
Reality still circled the drain as it struggled to funnel its way back into my head.
A kidnapping, a metal prison, and a bald man who threw me in his trunk?
Unstable thoughts left me with an empty sense of panic.
Scrambling off the bench, I fell to the ground, acutely aware of the aching that resonated through every inch of my body. “Ow,” I groaned, the discomfort surpassing the memory of flipping my Jeep down a drainage ditch in high school.
The cheerful screams coming from the play structure nearby made my head ring with each piercing sound. The ringing itself turned sour in my head like bile in my throat and manifested into an actual need to vomit in the bushes. After pulling myself to my feet, I did so shamelessly, regardless of the passersby. I probably looked like a drunk, though that wasn’t the case. What is the case? What happened to me?
An image of the man who’d “rescued” me from the back of that Caddy flashed in my mind. Was all that real? How’d I end up here?
Memories of the previous night began piecing themselves together, but that still didn’t seem to answer any of the questions I had—or make any real sense of their own.
Accepting that this confusion wouldn’t easily dissipate, I gathered myself and ran to find my way out of the park. Once I’d gotten to Fifth Street, which I recognized as close to my apartment, I steadied my bearings and headed home.
I stumbled through my apartment door and nearly fell into the coffee table as the world spun so viciously I couldn’t tell up from down. The next thing I knew, I was in the bathroom, puking my guts out again. Through a repulsive mixture of tears and snot, I peered into the toilet, horrified to discover that this time I’d literally puked my guts out. In the porcelain bowl, blood and viscera was mixed with the contents of anything I’d had to eat in the last twenty-four hours.
What is wrong with me?
Climbing to my feet, I dared to look in the mirror. Not only was there dried blood caked over the spot where I’d practically cracked my skull open head butting that man the night before, but I was covered in dirt and dried up leaves. Bloody residue stained my lips from my vomit, and on my neck was the strangest red mark. It was in the same spot where the man had bitten into me the night before, but instead of leaving me with teeth marks, there were two red holes that stung like hell to the touch. Around them, the skin was red and swollen, pulsating with a dull pain. The veins themselves were a strange dark color, as if infected. It resembled a snake bite… or a vampire bite as described in fairy tales. Oh god. How crazy did I have to be to think I’d seriously been bitten by a vampire?
This was too much for me to handle on my own. I needed help. Physically, psychologically—well I wasn’t sure which yet.
After splashing some water over my face, I changed my clothes, covered my neck with a scarf, and threw on a pair of sunglasses to conceal my increasingly sallow eyes. Grabbing one of my many burner phones, I called Jayleen and demanded that she meet me at the café below my apartment. Not minutes later, the two of us were sharing a table in a quiet corner where nobody would overhear us.
Jayleen scoffed at my appearance. “What’d you get into last night? You look like the disheveled mistress from hell.”
Skipping the formalities, I took off my glasses and pulled down my scarf. “There’s something wrong with me, Jayleen. I don’t understand what’s going on.”
Her eyes widened in genuine bewilderment as she looked me over. “What happened?”
With that, I told her everything. From the kidnapping to the possibly imaginary vampire attack.
“I told you being involved with Johnny would only bring you trouble.” She snarled at her words, looking as if she was envisioning herself strangling Johnny Roufe with her own two hands.
I clasped my hand over my mouth as another wave of nausea threatened to unleash itself. Once the feeling ebbed, I continued, “The kidnapping aside, what’s wrong with me, Jayleen? What is this fucking mark on my neck?” I slammed my fist down onto the counter.
She jumped at my sudden intensity. “You’re right.” She nodded, sobering quickly. “It’s very strange—what’s happening to you. The nausea could be from your head injury, but it doesn’t explain the neck wound or the blood in your vomit. And, okay, let’s play devil’s advocate for a moment. Say you were bitten by a vampire and that could have something to do with your symptoms. Maybe you’re changing into a vampire?” A little chuckle escaped on the tail of her words.
I, however, wasn’t laughing. Everything hurt too much to think about laughing. “And maybe I’m dying, Jayleen,” I spat.
“Well, how are we supposed to know that? I’m not the person to ask. All I know is what I’ve seen from Hollywood movies, and they’ve certainly never depicted anything so horrifying as,” she motioned to my entire being, “this.”
With that gesture, I took out my phone to observe what she was referring to. Opening the front-facing camera, I was devastated to see my worsening state. My eyes had sunken into their sockets and the bags under them were now a dark purple. My skin was yellow, my once shimmering green eyes a glazed-over shell, and my glowing golden hair that I’d worked so hard on was now as dull and lifeless as straw. The mark on my neck was spreading in the shape of my veins and looked nothing like anything I’d ever seen in my short stint at nursing school years ago. I didn’t look like that man who’d attacked me the night before. He was handsome; his skin and eyes glowed with health and vitality, nothing like the way I looked now. I wasn’t turning into anything—I was dying.
“I-I don’t want to die,” I murmured, practically to myself.
Though I’d been so willing and ready the previous night while under duress. Now, I couldn’t help but think it wasn’t my time to die. Call it a second lease on life, but if it had been my time, then I would have died while in the very capable hands of that fair skinned grim reaper who’d bit into me.
If that wasn’t how I was meant to die, then this couldn’t be it either. I wouldn’t give in twice.
Thin breaths left me in near hyper-ventilative pants. “What do I do? What do I do?”
Jayleen splayed her hand over my shallow cheekbones. “Okay, okay. Maybe you are turning into a vampire and you simply need to drink some blood to bring some life back into you!” She smiled with renewed hope shimmering in her brown eyes.
“Why do you insist I’m turning into something?”
“Oh, come on! That’s what would happen in all the movies and stuff! So, here!” Jayleen took a breadknife off the table and attempted to slit the palm of her hand. She did it so impulsively that when the blood started to trickle out, she closed her fist and looked at me with wide eyes. “Wow. That hurt so much more than I’d expected.” Shaking off her shock, she held her hand up to me and opened her bloody palm in front of my face.
It smelt like iron and made my stomach turn on end. I snarled in disgust. “I’m not going to drink your blood, Jayleen.”
“Just do it. Hurry up before people start to stare.” Jayleen’s eyes darted toward the waitress milling a few tables away.
“Shit,” I murmured, pulling her warm palm up to my lips. Upon raking my tongue over her open wound, I gagged at the horrifying bitter taste of blood. Without warning, vomit flooded up my throat and I aimed for the nearest planter vase by our table.
Jayleen’s own face went white as she watched. “Gross. Maybe that wasn’t the best idea.”
“Oh god. What am I going to do?” I begged again, coming full circle.
Jayleen lit back up, always the one with some kind of crazy idea. “Remember how you said that Johnny’s Granny was super interested in all that weird mystical culty shit?”
I nodded.
“Well then, your best bet is to go ask her about it. Even if it isn’t something strange like ‘vampires,’ maybe Granny has some advice to help you out. She seems like a really wise old lady, right? And the man seemed to know Johnny, right? Maybe she knows something about this mystery man specifically. And if all else fails, you’ll be in the mansion and you can go to the Roufe’s doctor. After all, there could very well be a diagnoseable explanation to all of this.”
She was right. Though I didn’t want to see Johnny—or any Roufe—in my condition, I could sneak into the house to look for Nonna. I trusted Nonna to keep a secret for me, since she was rarely swayed by Johnny’s requests or demands. I would certainly have to be careful of who else I came across in my current condition, however, and sneaking around without prompting a scene might prove difficult after last night’s debacle.
“Here, I’ll drive you over there.” Jayleen wrapped a napkin around her still-trickling palm and then clasped her clean hand around mine, pulling me to my feet. The two of us made a quick jaunt to her car before she sped us onto the freeway and toward the other end of town, where the Roufe Estate sprawled across the countryside.
Jayleen dropped me at the front gates and from there probably went to get stitches in her hand. If I lived through the day, we’d have to have a talk about the rampant impulsivity that led to her thinking—or not thinking—that’d been a good idea.
For the time being, I had my own shit to worry about.
Past the gates, I had to get inside without alerting any of the guards or happening by anyone who’d tell Johnny I was there. Once inside, I could hear Johnny’s little boys playing up the hallway.
I had a lot of qualms about being in a serious relationship with Johnny. Being with him was more of a risk than a reward, but I stayed because the rewards were always so damn alluring. One being getting to care for his boys. Their mom was a bitch, and they were surrounded by mafia, yet they were still somehow sweet little kids. The eldest was a pain in the ass, but I suppose that’s what happened when your dad was a piece of shit and your replacement mommy (me) wasn’t old enough to biologically be your mother.
I wouldn’t say I loved the Roufe boys, but I cared for them as much as I could any of Johnny’s kin. They were still innocent and untainted by their family’s corruption. Unfortunately, I knew that wouldn’t last, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Nonetheless, I wasn’t there for them. In fact, they were the least of my concerns and they would have all sorts of worried questions based on my appearance; avoiding them would be best, so I hid when they came running by. After successfully sneaking past them unseen, I landed at Nonna’s room and slinked inside.
“Nonna,” I whispered, looking around the large, vaulted room that was bigger than most people’s homes. It was practically a library and homed almost as many spiderwebs as it did books.
“Hello, my dearest Leanne. What brings you here?” Her gentle old voice was meek, even when echoing through the cavernous room.
“I came for some advice…”
Nonna hobbled up to me from where she rose from a table in the center of the room. When she looked me over, her wrinkled eyes grew increasingly wary. “Does Johnny know you’re here, dear?”
“Um, no, I’m only stopping by. I have some questions…” I didn’t want her to tell Johnny about this yet. “For a friend… not for myself.”
“Mhmm.” Her wrinkled lips pursed with doubt. “And what is it?”
“You study the occult and stuff like that, right, Nonna?”
“Mm, yes.” She narrowed her eyes in my general direction but offered me a seat at her table, nonetheless.
Taking it, I decided to begin with the most ridiculous of theories, to get them out of the way. “Well, my friend is interested in learning about vampires in the modern day. Do you have any information about them?”
“Hmm.” She thought for a moment. “That is such a broad question. Are you asking for real information, or simply pondering hypothetical mythologies?”
“Do you have real information?”
“Of course. What specifically would you like to know?”
“My friend is most specifically interested in vampire bites. She actually thinks she might have been bitten by one. Haha, how crazy is that?” I laughed aloud, weak and nervous.
“Hmm.” She didn’t laugh at all, and I shut my trap. “She’d surely want to seek help in that case. Unfortunately, there’s not much anyone could do for her. She’d have to seek out the vampire who’d bitten her in order to save her life. Otherwise, she’ll die once the venom has spread. It usually takes about twenty-four hours. Not a pleasant process either.” Her eyes pinned me like little needles that knew my secret.
“So, you think that vampires are real and that she most certainly could have been bitten?” How absurd.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret, my girl.” She leaned in close, reminiscent of a teen ready to spill some good tea. “I know vampires are real, and I can prove it to you however you’d like me to. Vampires are very much all around us, specifically here in Creswell. They often stay hidden in their own communities, but the Roufes are well-versed in working alongside them. There are just some things we cannot do on our own, and that’s when Johnny is left to call in the help of immortals. It’s why we’ve thrived above all other families in this city for so long.” Her brow wrinkled further in my direction, and she went on, “That’s why I assure you, if she believes she’s been bitten, she should seek help immediately.”
So, it was true, and like I’d guessed: I was dying a slow and painful death. But by the sounds of it, I wasn’t dying slow enough. I’d be the hypothetical dead girl in twenty-four hours or less. One whole day? How much time did that give me? Until after dark, at least, but probably not much more. That wasn’t nearly long enough. “So how would she find him—the vampire that bit her?”
“She wouldn’t. There are over a hundred vampires in our Tri-City area; finding the exact one would be impossible. A vampire always erases the victim’s memory of their encounter, so I’m surprised she’d recognize what was happening to her. Most would simply think they’ve caught a terrible flu and pass without ever being the wiser. Without any recollection of the vampire in question, there’s no way to know who it was or how to find them.”
But I still had all of my memories from the night before, didn’t I? I remembered the vampire in question’s terrifying features perfectly. I remembered his chiseled jaw, his slim nose, and his hard brow. I remembered him down to the cold look in his eyes, even in such darkness. The memory of him had haunted me since the moment he sunk his teeth into my neck.
“But I do remember,” I blurted out. “I mean—what if my friend did remember perfectly what he looked like?”
“Impossible.”
Finally, I gave up my futile charade and spoke truthfully. “Nonna, please help me. It happened last night. I remember him perfectly, though. I can explain every detail of the man who bit me.”
Nonna’s grey hair bounced atop her head as she nodded knowingly. “Do you realize the predicament you’ve gotten yourself in, dearest? There’s no good way out of this.”
“Please, Nonna, please don’t tell Johnny. I’m begging you.”
“How do I explain it to him when you are dead or worse?”
Worse? What is worse than death?“It’s your choice when that time comes, but at least give me a chance to right this first! I’m not ready to die yet!”
“Fine.” Nonna rubbed her temples. “What did he look like?”
“Well… he had really dark hair. He was tall and lean. His skin was super light, and he had strong cheekbones… and sharp fangs?”
“Anything helpful? Facial hair? Tattoos?”
“No facial hair, and I don’t know about tattoos. He was fully covered, I didn’t exactly have time to ask him to undress for me.”
“How did it happen then? Where were you?” It was obvious from her tone that Nonna was doing her best to work with what little I’d given her.
“Well, long story short, I was kidnapped by a man last night and thrown in his trunk—I think he was related to the Grioris. By the time he’d driven us what seemed like ten-plus miles down one of the forestry roads, this supposed vampire guy showed up, killed him, and was going to leave after that. But then I screamed, and he noticed me. I told him who I was, and he said he knew Johnny but that he didn’t think he’d miss me because he thought I was a ‘consort.’ Then he bit me.”
“You say he just showed up to kill the man who kidnapped you and then he was going to leave? And he said he’d worked with Johnny before?”
“Yeah, and yeah.”
“Did he have an early English accent?”
“A what?”
“An old English accent? Hurry up, dear, you don’t have all day.”
Thinking back, he did have a unique sound, but I was dealing with too much panic to worry about the strange man’s accent at the time. It could have been European. Maybe it was old English—whatever that meant. “I suppose, yes.”
“God damn it, girl. I was hoping this wouldn’t be the case. It is both good and bad news.”
“What? Do you know who it is?”
“The good news is that I believe I know who it was. It’s most likely a vampire by the name of Riftan. He has come around here and there. He’s done favors for Johnny and Johnny has done favors for him. I believe that’s exactly how he came across you last night. He was surely doing a favor for Johnny, and you were an unacquainted casualty. The bad news is that after feeding from a human, any smart vampire will hypnotize their victim and erase their memories simply by looking them in the eyes. He’s plenty smart enough to have done so, and I have not a clue why he’d have chosen to leave you with your memories intact. All I know is that the reasoning can’t be good.”
“But you know who he is! So, doesn’t that mean I could find him? Doesn’t that mean I have a chance?”
“I don’t know where you would find him. He finds you, never the other way around. Even then, he’s fickle, and the likelihood that he’d help you is next to none. I can assure you, with Riftan, you might as well forget about this whole thing and enjoy your last few hours, dear.”
“But… but he left me with my memories. Why would he do that if he didn’t want to help me? Or at least give me a chance?”
“I told you, I have no explanation for that, girl. Maybe he wanted to torture you a little more. Otherwise, if it is because he wants you to find him… Well, that’s going to be a problem in and of itself. You may be better off dead. So, we can only hope it was the former.”
I really wish she’d stop with the ‘better off dead’ hints—they’re not helping!“Where can I start looking? I won’t stop until I’ve successfully keeled over and died.”
“You could check the internet for clubs—vampires often frequent establishments filled with an array of mortal flesh to choose from. Also, I suppose there are a few bars around town that are known to cater especially to vampires. When someone is looking for a favor that only a vampire can help with, they would go there—even at the risk of never leaving.”
“Okay, fine, which ones? I’ll write them down.”