Drop Dead Gorgeous (5 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

My
boyfriend’s a vampire.

Clara sat alone on the sofa after Derek left, going over the past twenty-four hours. She wasn’t losing her mind. Derek had appeared in her apartment, bitten her, and then reappeared and apologized. Did vampires apologize? Well, hers did.

She’d spent the day reading online about vampires and then made her shopping list and bought garlic and a wedge of wood she’d sharpened into what she thought a stake should look like, probably ruining her best kitchen knife. She hadn’t been sure if he might try to bite her again, and she was afraid. He’d seemed out of control and the bite had hurt like hell. Would he have killed her if she hadn’t cried out? She had no way of knowing, and so she’d made herself a stake. Now, however, she wasn’t afraid of him anymore.

She got up from the sofa and picked up the garlic and stake and took them into the kitchen. She put the stake in her utensil drawer and left the garlic on the counter.

Deciding to take a bath, she headed into the bathroom, started the tub and undressed. After removing her band-aids, she dabbed a touch of Neosporin on the two bite marks. As she slid into the warm water, she went over the previous night for the thousandth time. He’d been here. He’d kissed her, but then bitten her. She’d dreamed later that he was spooning her and now wondered if that had been a dream at all. Maybe it was real as well. Had he come to her apartment other nights? She considered the times she’d thought she smelled him or saw him. She wasn’t losing her mind. Derek was a vampire.

A vampire.

He said he wouldn’t come back, but she simply didn’t believe that. He also told her he loved her.
He loves me. He’s dead, but he loves me.

After a long soak, she got out and put on her favorite silk nightie. She wasn’t really hungry, but knew she needed to eat something, so she had a bowl of cereal in front of the TV. She kept the sound muted because her head was too full to listen to anything except her thoughts.

She brushed her teeth and got into bed and thought of Derek until sleep took her. Sleeping soundly, she was first aware of his hand in hers and then felt his body pressed against her back, just like she thought she had the night before. She rolled over and snuggled into his cool hard chest. He stroked her hair and held her.

“Did you finish your laundry?” she whispered into his neck.

“Yeah.”

“Am I supposed to forget about this too?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Okay.” She felt him kiss the top of her head. “Oh, I forgot to put the garlic away. Does it bother you?”

“It kinda gives me a sore throat.”

“Sorry.”

“No big deal. I’ll put it in the fridge before I leave.”

“If I kiss you, will you bite me again?”

“No.”

She tilted her face up to his and he kissed her. It was sweet and gentle. Then, he tucked her face into his neck and just held her until she was asleep again.

When she woke up, daylight was streaming in through her curtains. She was mad at herself for falling asleep and missing part of Derek’s visit, but she hoped she’d get another one soon. She felt quite certain of it, actually.

By the time she got dressed, the mail had come. She got a notice that her unemployment was on its way to her bank account, and she went online to fill out the forms for more, discouraged that she had no other income in sight.

Most of her afternoon was spent on the computer, reading more about vampires. Monica called and interrupted her, also reminding her she needed to eat something.

“How are you doing?” Monica asked.

“Okay. Better, actually.”
Less heartbroken now that Derek’s alive – well, kind of alive, anyway.

“Do you want to grab some dinner?”

“No thanks, I have some leftovers I need to eat.”

“Anything new?”

You have no idea.
“Not really. I’ve been thinking about your suggestion to manage models. Maybe I’ll make some calls tomorrow – you know, just put the word out with some of the models.”

“Oh, good. That’s good.”

“Keep your ears open for anything at any of the agencies.”

“Always.”

There weren’t many modeling agencies in Los Angeles – it was a much smaller market than New York. And the number of runway bookers could be counted on one hand. It was rare that a position opened up. She could starve before that happened.

After she’d eaten and cleaned the kitchen, she sat in front of the TV and tried to watch a movie. It was dark outside and all she could think of was Derek, of course. Was he coming? The movie she’d ignored was over and another one started. But before this one ended, she got sleepy and stretched out on the sofa with an afghan over her, falling asleep easily.

A sharp pain in her neck woke her and she said, “Ow,” as she put her hand to her neck and felt Derek’s cool hand already there. She realized he’d pulled off one of her band-aids.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to see how this was healing,” he said.

She opened her eyes and saw concern on his face. He removed her second band-aid, set them both aside, and then he was in her arms, kneeling beside the sofa.

She took a deep breath, blissfully happy.

He gave her a soft kiss and joined her on the sofa as she sat up. She noticed the sound on the TV had been muted.

“I think I know why I can’t seem to make you forget,” he began.

“You do?” She spread the afghan over his legs as well as hers. She wondered if he realized how cold he felt.

“Yeah. I asked someone last night.”

“Someone?”

He hesitated, as if trying to decide what to say. She wasn’t certain how much she wanted to know. “I have...brothers.”

“Okay.”

“They’re older. I’m really just learning stuff. It’s all so new to me.”

She took his hand and squeezed it, urging him to continue.

“Because you and I were...connected before, you’re different from other people. At least to me.”

“Well, I should hope so.”

“It’s because you love me. We’re bound. I can’t control you.”

“Is that bad?”

“Well, I don’t know. I guess it depends on how you look at it.”

She curled into his body and he sat back a little.

“What’s it like?” she asked.

“Strange. Everything’s amplified. I hear better, see better. I’m faster and stronger.” He got quiet for a moment.

“And these brothers. They’re…you know, like you?”

“Yes. We live in a nest. The older ones call it a basement. They’re teaching me.”

“I’m glad you’re not alone.”

He hugged her to him a little tighter.

She pushed him back further into the corner of the sofa and lay on top of him. Looking at his mouth, she touched his lips with her finger. They parted, revealing his fangs and she felt him harden against her body.

“I want to make love to you, but I’m afraid,” she whispered.

“I know. I don’t want to hurt you, but the desire to bite is so strong. You can’t imagine.”

She reached down and touched him over his pants. “Tell me if I should stop.”

He didn’t say anything, so she unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Watching his face, she reached inside his boxers and wrapped her hand around him.

He hissed. She stopped. She waited.

“It’s okay,” he said, and she moved her hand again, slowly, carefully, never taking her eyes from his face.

He placed his hand on her wrist and just let it rest there as she stroked him. Suddenly, he gripped her wrist and she stopped. She waited and watched his face.

He loosened his grip on her wrist and she began stroking again. He seemed in control so she sped up a little. A low growl came from him and she stopped again.

“Keep going,” he said hoarsely and he moved her hand again with his.

She went a little faster and gripped a little harder and his eyes rolled back in his head as his head leaned back further. It was strange to see him so still, not breathing at all.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” he said.

She didn’t and within a couple more strong strokes, she felt him coming and watched as he bit into his bottom lip, groaning loudly.

Two drops of blood ran down his chin and his neck as she caught his cool semen with her hand.

Almost immediately, he pushed her hand away and wiped his chin and neck as he turned away from her, sitting up a little.

“I’m sorry, that must have looked disgusting,” he said as he kept his hand over his mouth and chin.

“No, it didn’t. It’s not. It’s okay, sweetie. Let me get a washcloth for you.”

She went into the bathroom, washed her hands and wet a cloth with warm water. When she came back to the living room, Derek was just sitting there looking at her with an unreadable look in his eyes – guilt? Regret?

She cleaned his stomach and the palms of his hands, and wiped his chin and neck. There was no evidence of the two puncture wounds in his lower lip.

“These have already healed,” she said.

She set the washcloth on the glass top table beside the sofa and tucked Derek back into his pants. He zipped himself up and pulled her to him, holding her tightly.

“You did good, baby. You didn’t bite me,” she said softly.

“God, I wanted to.”

“We’ll figure this out. It’s new for both of us.”

“Okay.” He kissed her and pulled the afghan over them both. The sound on the TV came up. “Want to watch TV?”

“Sure.”

She didn’t care to watch TV, but thought it might be good to take the focus off Derek for a while. She kept her eyes on the TV, but paid very little attention to what was on. When she glanced up, she noticed Derek wasn’t looking at the screen, but just above it.

“If I fall asleep...” she started.

“I’ll put you in bed and lock you in before I go.”

She nodded and gave him a squeeze, and very soon, was fast asleep.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Walking home from Clara’s after tucking her into bed, Derek considered Raymond’s warning that things could get messy if he continued his relationship with Clara. No matter how strong Derek’s resolve to stay away, he simply couldn’t. He loved her so much and even more so now. She still loved him and accepted him in spite of what he was. He wondered how he would feel if the situation were reversed but simply couldn’t imagine it. Since he’d been killed, his life was full of unimaginable things.

When he came in the front door he found Terence alone reading in his chair by the fire. Derek said a quick hello and kept walking towards the stairs.

“Derek,” Terence said. “Have a seat.”

He stopped and went back to sit on the sofa. “What’s up?”

Terence closed his book and set it on the table beside him.

Derek could feel that no one else was in the house. “Where’s Raymond?”

“He took the van to get the rest of Billy’s things. It’s the end of the month. They’ll haul off anything left in his apartment once the rent stops, and they realize he has no family.”

“Oh. I should have gone to help.”

“That’s okay. He has help.”

Derek nodded.

“So, how are things going?”

“Fine.”

“You know, you can tell me things. Things you shouldn’t tell Madeline.”

“Okay. Good to know.” He knew where this was going.

“You’ve gone to the girl. The one with the Santa Barbara house.”

“Yes.”

“She obviously loves you and your magic doesn’t work on her – am I right?”

“Pretty much.”

“That’s what I figured. Madeline must be getting sloppy. She never would have taken you if she’d known about the girl.”

“We’d only met a few days before I died.”

“Really? Well, that explains why Madeline didn’t know. She must be something to already be in love with you after a few days. I mean really love you – not just lust for you because of how you look. You know it’s real or your magic would work on her.”

“Yes, she is special.”

“You’re going to have to be careful. No matter what, she can never know where the nest is.”

“I trust her.”

“I know, but it’s for her safety as well as ours. She can’t ever come here.”

“You’re right. I got it. Don’t worry.”

Terence shook his head. “I can’t imagine what a mess you must be in. This can only end badly. I can’t tell you what to do, but think of the girl.”

“Haven’t you – any of you, ever had someone? Don’t you miss it?”

“You get used to being alone. Ask Raymond about it sometime. He had someone. They were so good at keeping it a secret, Madeline didn’t know about her either. He went back to her afterwards. They had some time together.”

“Why was she a secret?”

Terence looked at the portrait over the mantel of a pale beauty wrapped in a sheet lying across a bed, a cell phone to her ear. The woman had a tangle of long blonde hair and a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the back of her hand.

“She was white,” Derek said, answering his own question and suddenly realizing the significance of the portrait Raymond had painted.

“Yes. In the sixties, interracial couples were uncommon – almost as uncommon as successful black painters. Madeline took him because she loved his paintings. That was his gift. In the nineties, she orchestrated renewed attention to his work; he’d been professionally ignored when he was alive. She’s made a small fortune selling his paintings, but she couldn’t sell that one.”

“How could a man who died in the sixties have painted a woman on a cell phone?”

“Exactly. That painting can’t exist. It’s the only one he got to keep. And frankly I’m shocked she let him keep it.”

“That’s good. I like that.” Derek studied the painting with fresh appreciation. “She’s beautiful. Where is she now?”

“Madeline killed her.”

A shiver ran up Derek’s spine. He looked at Terence and just nodded in understanding. “Okay. I got it.”

The following night, Derek went down the street to help Billy unpack. Billy’s house was similar to Derek’s in its layout – a wide entry hall flanked by a huge living room and study on one side, and dining room and kitchen on the other, but it wasn’t decorated as tastefully as Derek’s. The sofa and chairs were a bit shabbier, and the walls held less art.

Derek climbed the wide stairs in the center hall and found Billy in his bedroom setting his computer up on the desk, surrounded by boxes and piles of clothes. He looked about twenty, with messy blond hair in bad need of a trim and striking blue eyes. They were all striking, all handsome, and all young. Derek had probably died the oldest at twenty-eight.

Derek started on the pile of clothes on the bed, hanging things in the closet while Billy sat at his desk.

“You were the last one before me, weren’t you?” Billy asked.

“I was.”

“Were you mad when she got me?”

“No. Not at all. I’m glad she has you. I mean, I’m sorry you died, but, well, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know. How long were you with her before I came along?”

“Not long. A couple of months,” Derek said.

“Really? Will she get someone new after a couple of months with me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not. She stayed with some of them for years – decades even.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to be on my own. I need her.”

Derek recalled the feeling, and felt bad for Billy, saying, “Don’t worry. She needs you too.”

“Yeah, for money, but I want her to...you know, keep me as hers.”

“Then she probably will. No offense, but you don’t look like you have a lot of money – I mean, you’re just a kid.”

“Oh, I don’t yet. I started a website – it compares businesses for consumers. Now, she’ll own it – probably sell it.” He didn’t look happy at the prospect.

“How does it work?”

“If you’re looking for something – a car dealer, a dry cleaner, whatever – it finds the companies closest to you and provides data. So you can make an informed choice. I’ll show you. What was the name of your agency?”

“L.A. Faces.”

Billy started to type. Derek came to stand behind him, looking over his shoulder at the screen. “Well, there are lots of others in L.A. Which one would you like to compare it to?” Billy asked.

“Beacon.”

Billy typed in “Beacon,” and said, “L.A. Faces is newer, has more models, a more expensive address. A better looking owner than Beacon’s.” He laughed.

“Wait, let me see,” Derek said.

He wasn’t really jealous, but he was a little curious about what Clara’s former boyfriend looked like. Billy brought up photos of the two owners – one a beautiful brunette woman – obviously the owner of L.A. Faces, and the other of Jeffrey Rizo. He was a little older than Derek, also dark, but with brown eyes, and a darker five o’clock shadow – actually, not a bad looking man. Derek felt a little jab of envy.

Billy finished his demonstration of the site and, unfortunately, ended with Jeffrey’s headshot on the screen.

“You were a big model, weren’t you?” Billy asked.

“I did okay.”

“You probably had a wad of money.”

“I guess. It was a lot for someone my age. I got a little when my parents died when I was twenty, but most of it I made modeling. It’s hers now. Ours, I mean.”

“So, what are you going to do now? I mean, how will you make her money?”

Derek thought for a moment.
That’s a good question.
“Not sure. I’ll think of something. I’m still getting the hang of all this.”

“Right. Me too,” he said. “How did your parents die?”

“Car accident.” It seemed a lifetime ago now, but had only been eight years. “How about you?”

“My dad had a heart attack when I was little. He was quite a bit older than my mother. My mom died last year. Lymphoma.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was just the two of us for so long. I miss her.”

“You’re not alone anymore.”

“No, I guess I’m not. Thanks.”

Derek finished putting Billy’s clothes away, and left Billy on the bed, sorting through a box, as he headed down the stairs to leave. But when he opened the front door, the door knob slipped from his grasp and the door slammed shut.

He turned and walked into the living room to find Christopher leaning against a table, his arms crossed in front of him. Christopher wasn’t a favorite brother - a bit of a jerk. Tall, blond and lean, he’d been the son of the builder of all their homes in the 1920s, and Madeline’s conquest after she’d murdered his father.

“Billy wasn’t put in your house,” Christopher said. “He was put in mine.”

Derek didn’t respond.

“He’s not going to be your boyfriend.”

“No, I expect he won’t,” Derek replied.

“Don’t be bringing all your pussy model shit over here and rubbing all over him. Unlike you, I think he’ll take to this nicely. He has potential. But not if you don’t leave him alone.”

“Got it. He’s all yours,” Derek said, and turned and left. This time the front door worked.

Happy to be leaving the nest for the night, he walked over to Clara’s. She was sitting at her dining table with books all around her and her nose in one. She looked up when he came in the room and her smile melted his heart.

“I’ve been reading about vampires,” she said, before he covered her mouth with his.

She stood and immediately went limp in his arms and whimpered a little before grasping his hair with both hands and deepening the kiss. He was careful not to pierce her tongue with his fangs, and kept his urge to bite under control. He felt so confident with his control that he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom with her legs wrapped around his waist.

He set her on the bed and began to unbutton her top, removing it to reveal a white lace bra. She unhooked the back and pulled it off as she scooted back on the bed and lay down, looking even more beautiful than he’d remembered. He knelt on the bed and crawled up her body as her breasts beckoned him. He wanted to bite. He wanted to suck. Instead, he caressed a breast with his hand and she closed her eyes in ecstasy.

He began to unbutton her jeans and she helped him, pulling them off along with her panties. As he pulled them from her feet, he bent down and kissed a foot, but even that was hard not to bite. She pulled her knees up and apart and he touched her, fighting with all his might not to put his mouth where his hand was stroking and fondling. Clara began to moan softly. He wondered if his fingers felt cold to her.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I know you do, baby.”

He thought of Terence’s words. He knew her love was real or his magic would work on her. She genuinely loved him and he was so grateful, especially now that he had become what he was – something so completely unlovable.

Clara reached for his jacket and t-shirt and he pulled them off. He stood and removed his pants, boxers, shoes and socks as well. She sat up a little on her elbows to watch him, her legs still spread.
How am I going to do this? Concentrate. Do not bite.

He knew he would no longer have any need for a condom. He was dead – sterile, and no diseases could survive in his body.

“We don’t need a condom,” he said.

“Okay,” she replied, reaching for him.

He climbed onto the bed and into her. They both groaned at the sensation of cool flesh meeting hot and wet. He began to move, but every ounce of concentration was focused on not biting. He wondered how this could possibly work if this was what he had to fight every time he was with her. Each stroke was agony. He bit into his own tongue, but the blood was tasteless, so unsatisfying. He gripped the sheets beneath her body.

Clara’s hands massaged his back and she made little moans with each of his strokes. Her breathing sped up. He watched her throat and the muscles in her neck straining as she held him. He focused on the two tiny marks and suddenly, it was more than he could bear.

He turned his head and buried his face into the pillow beside her head and bit down as he came. She lowered her hands and held him to her as he rocked into her, still biting the pillow. He growled and grunted until he was through, and then he pulled out and went into the bathroom and closed the door, not trusting himself to be near her.

What must she be thinking?
He had just fucked her with almost no foreplay, no attention to her needs whatsoever. It was all he could do to not hurt her. What kind of woman would want someone like that? He couldn’t please her in bed. He couldn’t provide for her as a partner. He could never wake with her in the morning, spend days with her, give her a future. He knew it was pointless for her to go on with him. She deserved so much more than he could ever give her.

He took a deep, unnecessary breath and opened the door, walking back into the bedroom. Clara was sitting up in the middle of the bed, looking very serious.
This is it. She’s going to end it.