I remember the first time my sister Charlotte came to me and told me she was in love. The most shocking part of the news was when she said the man she loved was a vampire. My jaw was on the floor. I had no idea my older sister was in love, let alone with a vampire, let alone that vampires were real. It was a confusing time, but that was two years ago, and I’ve grown accustomed to it now.
They live among us, always have, and while of course the secret must be kept from mainstream society, there is still a large underground world of humans who are aware. Evidently, over the last thousand years, vampires have evolved to blend in with society, able to venture out during the day, though they still prefer the night. In the twenty-first century, it has become fetishized. Steampunk clubs and modern societies dedicated to the living dead. (Many host blood donations, and when I learned that there isn’t a shortage of volunteers, I was nauseated. Certainly relieved to learn the odds of me being attacked by a vampire was almost nonexistent, but still grossed out.)
Like my sister, some people choose to become vampires. Our parents are dead, so I’m really the only person she had to break the news to. Some people just bask in the presence and the parties, and some are only there for the sex.
Vampires are innate sexual creatures. They are masters of seduction with persuasive powers and unquenchable needs. Or so I’m told. I’ve never fucked one, and I don’t plan to. While I support my sister’s decision to become immortal and delve into that life, I, myself, have chosen to stay very much human. It’s an odd balance, knowing that beneath the surface of the economy is an entire other world - paranormal at that. I grew up human, though. It would be hard to leave behind my human habits and desires. I never had a knack for biting off more than I can chew. I like control, I like to be prepared and educated. I want to live my life the way I’m meant to. But I still love my sister, so we frequently see each other, and every time we do, I have to put reality on the back burner.
At eight o’clock, I slip on my knee length coat over my thigh high dress and step out into the cool October air. My heels sound on the concrete, legs sheathed in black stockings, my long dark mahogany hair in loose curls spilling over my shoulders. It is dark when the taxi drops me at Charlotte’s house; an elevated townhome matching the rest on the block. I thank the driver and turn to walk up the steps, my ascendence halted by a figure at the top.
The nearest street lamp is at the corner, so all I can see is his silhouette and a slight illumination of his left side. He is tall and solid, not huge, but masculine and demanding, his hair short and dark, his jaw square, eyes reflective silver.
With one heel on the step in front of me, I stare up at him, and he stares back, hands in his pockets.
“You must be Christina.” His words have a strange way of carrying texture, as if he dipped every letter of my name in a fluid softer than water, rolling off his tongue.
“And you are?” Before I can blink, this vampire is standing on the step above my foot, his hand extended toward me.
“Alexander D’Angelo.” I hardly have an extra brain cell to concentrate on his name after he used fade in front of me. “You can call me Alec,” he says when I blink away the unnerving memory of his quick motion.
“Nice to meet you,” I say irritably, ignoring his attempt at human courtesy and pushing past him up the stairs. He is there before me, opening the door.
“Could you stop that?” I say, and humor tugs at one corner of his lips.
“My apologies.” His smoldering face makes me that much angrier. I hate vampires.
I don’t mind my new brother-in-law Michael, he is nice and makes my sister happy. Even my sister makes a good vamp, always courteous enough not to do the abnormal shit in front of me. But usually, they are exactly like this guy: cocky and condescending, always using their extra abilities to show off. A lot them carry a god complex, believing they’re better than us, though in what way, I can’t imagine.
We walk inside the house and I go straight to my sister’s waiting arms.
“You didn’t say we’d have extra company,” I say, hugging her cold body back, and her laugh is a tinkling bell. She knows I’m not fond of the male vampire variety.
“Sorry. I see you’ve met Alec. He’s Michael’s old friend.”
We go to the dining room, where I’m greeted by Michael with another cold hug. Our friends Devon and Michelle are here too; Devon’s a vampire, Michelle isn’t. They’ve been dating a while. I wonder if Michelle will want to be one too someday.
Michelle and I are the only ones who eat actual food, but all of us are drinking. Apparently vampires are still capable of having their spirits lifted, alcohol the only human substance they can tolerate ingesting.
We sit at the table and talk amongst each other, our bi-weekly ritual. Alec is a new addition, however. He sits across from me, his eyes green now that he’s not submerged in darkness, and they keep finding their way to my face. I don’t talk to him much until the conversation turns his direction.
“How long are you visiting for?” Devon asks him.
“Indefinitely at the moment. In fact, I quite like it here. I may stick around.” Alec doesn’t look at me when he says this, but I suddenly feel him all around me. His presence is thick. I heave a silent sigh, feeling suffocated.
“Where are you from?” I ask.
“Czech. Back when it was the Bohemian Estates.”
“And how long have you and Michael known each other?” I say, trying to be polite.
“Wasn’t it the summer of 1912?”
“I believe so,” Michael agrees. “Around the same time the Titanic sunk.”
“That’s right. Still remains quite interesting news.”
I want to roll my eyes. I find it utterly fascinating that some people have lived so long, and I find myself wanting to ask questions about first-hand experiences, but when they use it in such casual conversation, it’s discombobulating.
“Did you get the chance to meet Shakespeare as well?” I say facetiously, and when Alec looks at me, warmth starts spreading through my veins.
“Unfortunately no,” he utters. The warmth doesn’t stop. It starts in my heart, and I can feel it inching its way through me, where it seems to be congregating in my stomach. Our friends continue their conversation around us as Alec and I stare at each other. I can’t look away, his green eyes hypnotic. It’s not even that I can’t look away, I don’t want to. Suddenly hostility doesn’t make sense. The whole world doesn’t make sense. The only thing that does is desire.
I was wrong, the warmth isn’t building in my stomach. It’s filling my womb. I am acutely aware of my reproductive system, every nerve ending in my pussy warm and aching, begging to be fucked and filled. I need something inside me so badly, my panties are instantly wet, my nipples in pain against my bra.
I clear my throat and find the strength to tear my eyes away, taking a sip of the dark wine in my stemmed glass. I try to join in the talk, but when I look back, he’s still staring at me. Our eyes meet and lust explodes inside me once again, more forcefully this time.
“Are you alright?” Alec says quietly, a devious glint in his eyes, and I want to slap him. He knows what’s happening to me. Horror strikes me as I realize he must be using influence on me; a vampire’s talent of controlling those around them. I’ve never had my will messed with before, and while I’ve heard stories, this is nothing like I imagined. I feel violated. How could he do this to me? I don’t even know him.
However, as badly as I want to deck him in the face, I need release more.
“Excuse me,” I mumble over our friend’s chatter, and rise from the table. I go straight to the bathroom and lock the door. Reaching my hand under my skirt and touching my soaked thong, I start rubbing myself, and though the fabric is wet, it feels like sandpaper. I move my hand inside the front of the silk and touch my slippery cunt with bare fingers, and I have to bite back a moan.
My shoulders pressing to the wall, hips forward, I stroke my clit vigorously, loving every moment. In the shortest time, I’ve ever achieved orgasm, my insides explode with ecstasy and I cum hard, my muscles contracting, my other hand over my mouth as I hum with relief.
Holy fuck, not only was it the fastest, it’s by far the best, lasting and lasting, and it feels so good I climax again. When that one’s exhausted, I slide to the floor and open my legs, rubbing myself until I cum a third time.
After another minute, I’m shaking with the remnants of my pleasure. I cannot believe Alec just did that to me. I am shaking with anger by the time I stand up. Washing my hands and adjusting my dress, I swallow hard, wondering how I’ll be able to go back out there and face him. My fury gives me courage. I would teach him a lesson if we weren’t in front of all these people. I don’t want anyone knowing what just happened. I never wanted a tryst with a vampire.
I exit the bathroom and upon returning to the dining table, it appears no one noticed the meltdown I just had. I know vamps have good hearing, excellent senses evolved to make them the ultimate predator and all that. Hopefully, they were distracted enough to not be listening.
I see Alec smile when I sit, though he doesn’t meet my eyes, for which I’m grateful. I’d love to smack that smile off his lips though.
I sit politely through the rest of dinner, and when Charlotte walks me to the door, she hugs me.
“I’ll see you in a couple weeks. Call if you need me sooner.”
“You too,” I reply, and when I pull away, Alec is holding up my coat for me. I sigh and slip it on, surprised when ‘thank you’ comes out of my mouth, instead of ‘you asshole’. I wave and walk out the door. The harsh air is nipping at my exposed skin wakes me up a little. I breathe it in, feeling as though I’m finally able to shake off that daunting experience. I wish I were able to explain it better.
I know vampire’s influence works with eye contact. I know they’re very sexual, and I’ve heard of what they’re capable of, but feeling it first hand, the incredible fire inside me, it was truly disconcerting. And amazing. I scoff at myself. That’s what pisses me off the most. He made me delusional enough to crave him. Alec brought me to orgasm more times than I have ever had in one sitting, and he didn’t even touch me. I want to pull my hair out at the thought.
I grab a cab home, and during the ride, my resolve turns to steel. I vow to stay away from Alec, hoping he’ll leave me alone as well. I don’t want anything to do with whatever just happened.
-
The days pass, and I try to stay busy with work, which isn’t difficult. I am an editing photographer for a magazine, and we have a new issue that just got a new deadline. I’m currently head of the main interview spread. I help put sets together, order props and equipment, and practice photographing different objects with different lighting, anything to help prepare myself and the team.
On Tuesday, when I leave the office at seven, the sun is already down. I wrap a scarf around my neck as I walk down the steps, and he’s waiting for me at the bottom. Alec is sharp in his casual business suit, all black, no tie. He is nearly a foot taller than me, dark hair above his intense silver eyes.
“Christina,” he greets me. I frown.
“What are you doing here?”
"I came to see you."
"Why?" Alec smiles, and his ultra white teeth are perfect, his canines slightly more sharp than average.
“I wanted to know if you would accompany me on a date.”
“…A date?” He nods his head. I shake mine. Is he delirious? “Why would I possibly want to go out with you?" I say without a hint of apology.
He raises an eyebrow. After a moment, a smile slowly spreads across his handsome face.
“I do hope you change your mind,” he says, some type of teasing tainting his words.
A second later, he fades out, and I am standing alone, Alec nowhere to be found.
-
I try to refrain from thinking about him, about what happened at Charlotte’s house and that he had the audacity to ask me on a date, but it’s difficult. Underneath my anger, the physical memory is imprinted on me. I am constantly clenching between my legs, still aching for something that isn’t my hand. I have tried to masturbate, but I can’t seem to get there myself.
When a few more days pass, I decide I need to get laid. I am not the type to sleep around. I’ve only been with two other guys, but I am a twenty-six-year-old woman with needs, and I need to have sex. So when I start being friendly with James, one of the photographers on another team, he takes the hint and invites me out. Something he’s tried before, but I never wanted to mix work and relationships. Right now, though, I can’t seem to care.
James picks me up and takes me to dinner, and at the end of the evening, I invite him inside my house. He has a nice body, flesh and blood and definitely human. His hands feel good, his mouth on my body licking and teasing me in a way that says he has always wanted to. I surrender to it. His head between my thighs makes me uncontrollably hot, but it isn’t doing the trick, so I beg him to fuck me.
He fills me in one long stride, and I moan out with contentment. Him stretching me is exactly what I needed. I am a very active partner, humping up into him, biting his neck.
