Sunset Strip: A Tale From The Tome Of Bill (22 page)

In my desperation, I’d placed a postcard in the mail addressed to my parents. It wasn’t much - just a note that I was okay along with the address of where I lived now, a place the others referred to simply as the loft.

I hadn’t expected much in return, and I wasn’t disappointed. The following year, I received a curt Christmas card from my mother. “Season’s Greetings - Mom” is all it read. I kept it under my pillow for weeks until I became scared of it being discovered. Night Razor didn’t tolerate anyone keeping ties to their old lives.

Then it happened. Just a few weeks ago, I had received a letter from my sister. It was short and impersonal, letting me know she had gotten a job as a sales manager for some toy company and had moved to the city. She wasted little time in gloating how well she was doing and ended with a seemingly insincere hope that we’d get together for lunch at some point.

My mistake had been not destroying it immediately. In truth, it made me sick. She’d always been daddy’s girl, living up to his ideals. In the end, though, it had all been bullshit. She was now a successful, single career woman probably willing to spit in the face of any man who wished her barefoot and pregnant. My only solace was knowing it had probably given my father an ulcer.

Sadly, that one bit of dark humor had been my undoing. Night Razor eventually found it and was furious. I had required nearly a full day to heal from his wrath. In the end, I’d promised to not follow up on it, a promise I had every intention of keeping.

Since then, I’d tried to be a better vampire. I’d thought maybe we’d moved past it, but tonight, he’d gotten some bug up his ass. Unbeknownst to me, he’d saved the letter. He dragged me from the loft, telling me it was time to grow up once and for all. It was time to embrace the new me, including the ridiculous name I’d been saddled with. Time for me to bury the past.

It was that last part that terrified me.

* * *

“Do it,” he whispered as we stood in front of her apartment door. It was a nice building, much better than the shabby place I’d rented in Vegas. Standing there, I couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of resentment simmering inside of me. For a moment, it nearly overpowered the fear I was feeling for Linda and for myself. She’d never been much of a sister to me, but she was my sister nevertheless. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her. I loved her.

Didn’t I?

“
DO IT!!
”

The compulsion was subtle, almost a whisper in the back of my head. It was just a nudge. Unlike most of the other orders he’d given me, I felt I could have disobeyed this one. It was, no doubt, a test.

Fear won out and I raised my hand to knock. For several seconds, there was no response. I began to hope she wasn’t home, but then I heard the footsteps. They were soft, easily missed by human ears. If I heard them, though, then Night Razor certainly did. A glance out of the corner of my eye confirmed the predatory grin on his face. God, how I hated him.

“I’m coming,” a bored voice said from within. There was a pause and my sensitive eyes picked up the slightest variation in light behind the peephole in the door. My unnatural ears registered a sharp intake of breath from the other side.

The bolt pulled back and a chain disengaged. The door opened, a bit too quickly had I been an unknown knocker. Linda was older, more mature than I remembered, but then it had been about five years since we’d last seen each other. She’d held up well. Her hair was up and she was wearing a robe over a pair of silk pajamas. Her face had filled out a bit and a natural beauty had replaced the teenaged good looks I remembered. She actually could have been one of the fashion models I used to unfavorably compare her to. Despite being four years older than me, she could have passed for nearly my age. Albeit, a small voice in the back of my mind corrected, she was physically now six years older, and the gap between us would keep growing as I no longer aged. She would eventually fade, where I would not. That was small comfort, however.

Though it was obvious she’d recognized me through the peephole, she put on a faux surprised face that was, no doubt, for my benefit. “Lucinda? Is that you?”

For a moment, my mouth refused to open. She had no idea what I was. If she did, she’d have slammed the door shut and dialed the police as fast as her fingers could move. Instead, I replied, “Hey, sis. It’s been a long time.”

“Let me look at you!” she said cheerfully enough. Her long slender fingers wrapped around my shoulders as she examined me at arm’s length. Anger welled in me from her touch. How dare she, after all this time!

I pushed it away, though, as her eyes took me in. My hair hung at shoulder length. I’d left a little body in it, but not nearly as much as seemed to be fashionable these days. I wore a simple sun dress. I liked them because of the irony of their name. Night Razor was partial to me wearing them, too, but only because they were easy to remove. The only makeup I wore was some light lipstick and blush, toned down from my days as a dancer - a time I was now eager to forget.

Mild disapproval passed through Linda’s eyes, once more igniting a spark inside of me. Her tone, though, remained pleasant. “You look simply delicious.”

I was half surprised Night Razor didn’t burst out laughing. “You look great, too,” I said. “City life agrees with you.”

“Doesn’t it?” She drank in the compliment as if it were a cosmopolitan. “And who is this fine upstanding young man at your side?” Her eyes turned to Night Razor. His somewhat base attire, ripped jeans and a tight t-shirt, met with no such distaste from her. Her eyes greedily devoured his form and were obviously hungry for more.

“This is....my boyfriend, Jeff.”

“Boyfriend, eh? A pleasure, Jeff.” He simply nodded in response. “You’ve done well for yourself, Lucinda. How did you two meet?”

“We met on the job,” Night Razor teased. “S...Lucinda works for me.”

Linda passed a sly glance between us. It was obvious what she was thinking:
Poor, pathetic Lucinda...sleeping her way to the top
. The spark inside of me began to smolder.

“Oh dear,” she cried in mock horror. “I’ve forgotten my manners. Won’t you both come in for a spell? It would be just wonderful to catch up with you, baby sister, and I’m just dying to know more about you, Jeff.”

As we followed her inside, one word flashed through my mind:
cunt
.

* * *

The more things change, the more they stay the same. My sister ushered us in to her nearly spotless apartment, complaining all the while of what a mess it was. Once the door was shut, I was sure that Night Razor would fall upon her, doing whatever he wished while she begged for mercy. I would be forced to watch, compelled to do so if I tried to look away, and powerless to help in the face of his superior strength.

Instead, he complimented her on the décor, accepted a beer - an import, no less - and took a seat on the couch.

What the fuck? Was this part of his game - to completely disarm her before he literally dismembered her? I wouldn’t have put it past him. In the nearly two years since I’d come under his watchful eye, I’d come to know that his cruelty had few limits.

That had to be it. I found myself nervously stuck between wanting it over with quickly so she wouldn’t suffer and wishing to see it drawn out in the hope that there’d be an opportunity to spare her life. My discomfort didn’t go unnoticed.

“You’re fidgeting, Lucinda.”

“Huh?”

“I said you’re fidgeting.” She turned to Night Razor with a sly grin, still shamelessly flirting with him. “Lu was
always
a fidgeter. Used to drive our father crazy. I was always trying to get her to calm down.”

Really? That was new. I’d never known her to do anything other than criticize my every choice. Guess I’d missed all of the calming affects her personality radiated.

“How is dad?” I asked absentmindedly.

“Father is father, just as he always was. Set in his ways until the day he dies. He certainly didn’t approve when I moved out and got a job. Said I needed to find myself a big strong man to settle down with and take care of.”

“You look like you’re taking care of yourself just fine,” Night Razor replied, leaving more than a little room for interpretation in his tone. The fucker was actually flirting back. Despite my lack of a heartbeat, my blood pressure raised a notch.

“But look at you, dear sister.” Linda said, turning back to me after holding Night Razor’s gaze a second longer than was proper. “You seem to have found yourself a good man. Father would
finally
be so proud. Tell me, Jeff, do you take good care of my little sister?”

“As good as she deserves.”

I clenched my fists, barely feeling my claws extend and dig into my palms.

“That’s good to hear. Lucinda always did need that extra watchful eye looking out for her. Can I get you another drink, Jeff?”

“Please.”

She stood, took Night Razor’s empty glass, and walked into the kitchen - not bothering to ask me if I’d like even a first drink. Goddamn, how I’d like to have shattered that glass and rubbed her face in the broken shards.

“Oh, Lucinda,” he cooed silently, “your hands.”

I looked down and noticed the blood for the first time. Thinking quickly, I wiped my palms on a throw pillow next to me and flipped it over.

“That wasn’t very hospitable.”

“Can we please get this over with?” I whispered.

“Get what over with?”

“My sister. You dragged me here so I could watch you kill her.”

“I did no such thing.”

“It’s bad enough you have to torture me...I mean, her, with...wait, what do you mean?”

“I’m not going to kill your sister.”

“No?” I didn't believe it.

“Why would I? I’m having a perfectly good time.”

“But...”

“I will admit, I’m considering recruiting her. She has a certain appeal. However, I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

He was actually considering making her one of
us
? The fucker actually liked her?! The horror of subjecting my sister to the hell that my existence had become briefly flickered in my head. Outrage quickly replaced the feeling, though, at the thought of spending eternity with the fucking bitch - eons of listening to her strut her superior attitude in my face.

I’d been in her shadow my entire life. She was always prettier, more popular, more to my father’s liking. The one thing I had over her, my mind - or so I always thought - had been browbeaten so badly over the years that I’d given up any thought of using it to further my life. Now, here we were: me, little more than an undead whore, and her, the up and coming sales manager. She’d become me...or the life I could have,
should have,
lived.

I stepped over to the window and looked out. The view did nothing to quench my rapidly fouling mood. She’d had everything growing up and even now couldn’t leave me any scraps. So here was Night Razor, changing his fucking plans like the goddamned asshole he was, and debating on offering her the one and only thing I had in my favor: immortality.

No. There was no fucking way that was going to happen.

“Are you okay...
Lucinda
?” Night Razor asked mockingly from his seat.

I bit my tongue. Normally when he asked a question, he expected an answer. Well, fuck him. If he wanted me to respond, he’d have to compel me.

His voice floated to me from his seat. “Use it.”

Use what? What the fuck was he talking about? Goddamnit! I couldn’t even think straight. I closed my eyes and massaged my temples with my fingertips, trying to will the anger away. I heard him get up and walk into the kitchen. A few moments later, their voices reached my ears, including my sister’s tittering laughter.

I tried to focus, but it was in vain. Whereas normally I would have been able to hear them perfectly, the only sound my ears would focus on was my own ragged breathing, drawing in hitched breaths as I tried to calm myself.

I don’t know how long I stood there like that. Could have been seconds or years, for all I knew. Night Razor and Linda continued chatting away in the kitchen. Her continued chuckles at his no doubt asinine comments continued to stab into my consciousness like an ice pick.

An eternity with her...with my cunt of a sister...

Behind me, she reentered the room. “Help yourself, Jeff,” she called back.

“Much obliged.”

Her footsteps came closer, right up behind me.

“Marvelous view isn’t it, Lu? You wouldn’t believe what this place costs a month, although I’m happy to say I can afford it.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“Mean? Just that my position pays quite...”

“No, that I wouldn’t believe what this place costs.”

“Oh, nothing at all. Your boyfriend was just telling me about your living arrangements...how you share a loft of sorts with some others down in SoHo. Not that there’s anything
wrong
with that. I mean, I was never into the Bohemian lifestyle myself, but I’m sure it suits you well in your current
condition
.”

“What condition?” I asked, opening my eyes. Facing the window, I wasn’t entirely surprised to see that my view of uptown Manhattan had taken on a decisively red hue.

“Well, I suspected as much when you called me back during that time you lived in Vegas, and Jeff tried to dance around the subject a bit, but he did manage to let slip that you do most of your work at night...

I smiled, feeling my fangs elongate. “Oh?”

“And I know you left home in a huff, having barely finished high school. A young, reasonably attractive girl like you...and I imagine the money isn’t too bad. I mean, our father would certainly not approve, but I’m not one to judge. They do call it the world’s oldest profession for a reason, don’t they?” She finished the sentence with a laugh. I’m sure she meant it to sound casual, but I could only hear the undertones of pity and scorn in it.

Something in me snapped. The feral nature that I’d felt when I’d taken the lives of Mark and my friends came rushing up to the surface tenfold. This time, though, I let it. It infused every part of me, seeping into the very core of my being.