Beautiful Monster (14 page)

             
“Uh…” I paused a moment, looking at the smiling faces that welcomed me. I suppose if I wanted to be alone I shouldn’t have come out to a club…yet, from behind me, I could feel the mystery woman. I could feel her eyes burning through me. I glanced over my shoulder, and found, to my surprise, that she was looking right at me. “Perhaps in a bit…I’m meeting someone.”

             
Everyone laughed and nodded knowingly. Apparently my reputation for womanizing was well known, as it should be. But this…this felt different. This woman, even as I approached her, was a divine creature. There wasn’t one ounce of imperfection that I could see on her; not one wrinkle or blemish. She did not react as I neared her as most people did these days. Instead, a slow smile spread across her face.

             
“Bonjour,” she said, slowly.

             
“Hello,” I replied, pointing to the empty spot at the table. God, she was beautiful. “Can I …stand here?” When exactly did I turn into a quivering child? There was something about her that made me unable to take my eyes off her.

             
“Of course.” When she spoke, she had a thick French accent that added to her exoticness.

             
“I’m Liam.” I extended my hand and she shook it. Her fingers were thin and her nails were perfectly manicured. What surprised me was the coolness of her skin, even in the sweaty club.

             
“Selene,” she drawled, her eyes giving me the once over that I had given other women many times over the past few years.

             
“And what do you do?” I asked her. With looks like this, I was certain she was in the industry.

             
“I’m an … ambassador,” she said smoothly, and I assumed by her French accent that she meant between France and here. I was impressed. I took a sip of my drink and watched how she moved ever so slightly to the music. “And you?”

             
I raised an eyebrow. There wasn’t anyone in this town who didn’t know who I was. Either she was lying or she really had just arrived.

             
“I’m an actor.” Already the few sips of the drink were warming me. I felt more relaxed and utterly entranced, watching her every movement.

             
“Ah…acting. Believe in untrue circumstances,” she said, with a small smile. “And do you believe things that used to be untrue, Liam?”

             
“Of course,” I nodded, and she leaned in, those exotic eyes glinting in the light.

             
“I hope I can make you believe a few, tonight.”

             
“I hope you can,” I replied with a smirk, my hand inching across the table to take hers again.

             
“Your place or mine?”

             
“Yours,” she replied, drawing closer to me. She didn’t have a bag or purse to pick up and I instantly liked that about her. Women could be so complicated, I wanted something simple. “It’d be better if you were to wake up there.”

             
“Alright then,” I wrapped my arm around her waist, which was small and lean but compact with muscle. She leaned in and her lips teased the soft flesh behind my ear. It was all I could manage to not grab her and take her right there. But before we got to the door, I stopped her.  “Listen…I’m rather well known here. So it’s likely there’ll be a cloud of paparazzi outside.”

             
“They’ll forget one night,” she said, huskily in my ear. “But you won’t.”

             
Sure enough, the cameras began flashing as soon as we exited. I put my arm around her neck, pulling her head down a bit to protect her identity. She didn’t seem to mind or even notice as her hand slipped under my shirt, indicating things to come. I chalked up the oddness in her speech to the fact that English was clearly her second language.  She spoke slowly, and deliberately, looking at me for what I assumed was an indication that I understood her words. Still, there was no lack of confidence that usually came with speaking a second language … no pause of uncertainty or flicker of embarrassment. It was almost as if she was trying to imply a double meaning with everything she said. But whatever that meaning was, I was too lost in her eyes to get it.

I felt drunk on the limo ride back, my senses swi
mming. It didn’t make any sense, I had left my drink half untouched. But something about this woman, her accent in the setting sun, turned me into a stumbling teenager about to get his first kiss. We barely made it up to my apartment before the clothes began to come off.

             
I locked the door and pushed her down on the bed. She ran her hands over my body as I struggled to unbutton her dress. I stood up as the sunlight disappeared, causing her to moan.

             
“Just wait,” I said, heading towards the light switch. “You’re the most stunning creature I have ever seen and I want to see every inch of you.”

             
I flicked the light switch on, and my heart almost stopped there and then.

             
“Creature is right,” she said, with a sneer, showing fangs.  She was what I brought home, yet extremely different. Paler than before, with dark circles around her eyes, her mouth had stretched as fangs appeared. And those beautiful eyes were now black as night.

             
I stumbled back against the wall, shocked. I felt my breath coming in gasps as I tried to make sense of what I saw in front of me. How much, exactly, had I had to drink?

             
“What the…” I said, as she got up, approaching me with such slow deliberate movements that I knew I was finished. “What are you?”

             
“Well, Liam, I’m what you are,” she replied. “Or…what you will be. You’ll be our ambassador now, and you can never hide. So you’ll keep us safe.”

             
“What are you talking about?” I gasped, reaching behind me. Even though I knew it was there, my hand was trembling so badly I couldn’t open the door knob. “What are you?”

             
“I'm a vampire, Liam. And so are you.”

             
I put my hands up to block her from coming at me, but she was impossibly strong and fast.

             
“Liam, Liam,” she said, as she held my hands in a death grip, almost crushing my bones. “Don’t look so afraid. You were chosen from thousands. With your fame, you will protect our identity forever; we know you’ll do anything to make sure our secret is safe. Because now our secret is also yours.”

             
The last thing I remembered was the instant pain of her fangs sinking into my neck; the slow agony as her poison filled my blood. I felt my head hit the ground, and then, blessed darkness.

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              When I awoke, it was still dark. My head was pounding, my mouth was dry, and I felt like I was coming off a nine day bender. I groaned, dragging myself upwards from my spot on the floor, not entirely sure how I got there.

             
My stomach felt like it was made of acid and I couldn’t decide if I was ravenously hungry or about to be sick. To be safe, I made my way to my bathroom, my legs unsteady as I leaned against the wall. I was trying to make sense of what happened;  trying to remember.

             
When I turned on the light, however, it all came back.

             
A scream came out of my throat, almost animalistic as I saw myself in the mirror.  Like her, I was pale as a ghost, my teeth long and sharp, and my eyes dark as night. I looked again, and again, each time unbelieving.

             
“No. It can’t be real. It can’t be real,” I said. In my pocket, my phone beeped, and I reached for it instinctively. My horror was not at the 69 missed calls, 200 emails and 47 text messages that flashed on the screen. My horror was the date above it. I had lost nearly three days.

             
Frantically, I opened my contact book scrolling through it. I wanted comfort. I wanted safety. I wanted someone to explain what was happening to me. But as I went through the names, I realized there was no one I could trust who would believe such a wild tale. I didn’t even fully believe it myself. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a joke, a drug laced trip. Perhaps I had drunk more than I should. Perhaps I hit my head and my mind was making up stories.

             
But nothing explained my appearance in the mirror or the fact that I craved thick liquid to slurp; warm and salty. I craved blood.

             
I had to find her. I had to figure out what was happening.

             
I grabbed a pair of sunglasses and a ball cap - the standard garb of celebrities trying to hide. My clothes felt disgusting but I allowed myself no time to change.

             
I hit the pavement quickly, a light drizzle of rain meaning it was mostly empty. My energy burned inside me, and I felt I could walk the five miles to the club; my last link to her.

             
Until I smelled him.

             
There was a man coming towards me, his clothes ripped and his left hand gripped over his right. He was walking quickly, his jaw set in what I guessed must be pain. I could smell the blood coming from the wound on his hand, and I couldn’t help but stop.

             
“You ok, man?” I asked, clenching my fists. All I could think about was the warm liquid that was pouring from his veins.

             
“I just got mugged!” he exclaimed. “Bastard knifed me and took my wallet and phone. Dude, do you have a cell phone? Please, I need to call the police.”

             
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” I said, reaching into my pocket and handing it to him.

             
“Thanks, dude,” he said, and removed his hand from his wound to take the phone and dial. There were emails with subject lines that revealed my name, and he must have seen it. However, the surprise on his face was not my concern. “Hey, are you…”

             
I couldn’t control my muscles, couldn’t stop myself from launching forward at him, bearing my fangs and letting out an animalistic growl. We crashed into the alley behind us, his screams echoing through the passage way. With anger I couldn’t explain, I hit him, my hand connecting so hard with his face, it drew blood.

             
That was too much for me, and my body moved before my mind thought. I sunk my fangs into his neck, and once I started, I couldn’t stop.  It was like I was famished, and this man was a buffet. I drank until his body was dry.

             
Drawing back when there was no more blood, I began to shake again. His body lay, drained, in front of me, so obviously dead that I knew there was no point in calling 9-1-1. Tears began to fall down my face, coming in great gasps, and I couldn’t hold back. I felt sadness and fear wash over me in ways I never felt before. I was cold, the rain soaking through my clothes, and while the external pain of earlier had passed, the tightness in my chest was growing unbearable.

             
The man’s hand still gripped my cell phone, and I reached out slowly, taking it. The battery was dying, although there was probably enough juice left for one call.

             
When I moved to Hollywood five years ago, I hadn’t left my home on good terms. My family thought trying to be an actor was the stupidest move I could make. It was a pipedream full of bad morals and worse behavior, and if I left, I left without their blessing. Over the last five years, the angry phone calls from home became shorter, and then stopped coming. They hadn’t changed their minds. They didn’t approve, so contact was cut.

             
And as the glamorous shiny world of fast friends and faster lovers surrounded me, my friends back home eventually drifted out of my life as well.  They weren’t replaced. No, Hollywood wasn’t a place of a tight brotherhood where you shared things. You shared drinks, and women, and strip clubs. You flashed your money around as fast as you could, and bragged, but there wasn’t any friendship.

             
I brought the phone to my ear, listening to it ring overseas. There was still one person who hadn’t abandoned me; one person, who through it all had told me to follow my dream and listened when I talked. One person who believed every word out of my mouth and gave me the best advice I could have ever received.

             
“Hello?” came a voice over the phone, gruff with age. That’s when I lost it; the tears turning to sobs and hysterics. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t breathe. I was acting like a child instead of a man. “Hello? Who’s there? Liam?”

             
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself for a few moments.

             
“Grandpa? I need your help. Can I come over?”

             
I heard a pause over the phone line, and a million questions catch in his throat. But he asked none of them.