Vampire Health Inspector 2

Chapter 4
Fall Out Boy Gives Vampires A Bad Image

    “Do you remember the video for that old Fall Out Boy song that featured vampires as the characters in that cheesy downtown rumble?” I asked Cayden, my favorite donor at the live blood bank at the moment. It was normally considered bad manners to talk to your food but I was the only one here and Cayden reminded me of my brother. He had a unique view on music and books that always made for good conversation.
 
    He moaned before answering, it was true, humans get some pleasure out of being a food source. “Of course, I loved them in high school, they fed my unnecessary, teenage angst.” I pulled my fangs out to laugh. I understood that completely, I had some would be punk and emo friends in high school.
    “Don’t tell me, you also read literature no one had ever heard of that you didn’t even understand to seem dark, twisted, and just mysterious,” I wanted to say pretentious but caught myself. 
    I sometimes missed regular human contact, vampires seem to lose sense of this sort of reality, the mortal one, the older they got. Talking to donors about pop culture and modern news was my way of keeping myself grounded. Sure, the Ebola outbreak wouldn’t ever be a concern to me but it was nice to listen to others talk about their concerns and fears about it among other modern day disasters. I fear that one day I’ll be the elder vampire lecturing fledglings about how “in my day humans were worried about deadly viruses and wars in a place that was once called Afghanistan...” I’ve come across a few of those types during my let’s get acclimated with our new immortality classes they make us take. 
    Vampire classes are the equivalent of driver’s ed. It’s a few nights worth of rules, regulations, etiquette and my least favorite, history lessons. I had to give it to the undead community, they were a thousand times more civilized than humans wanted to believe. I figure it’s the mortal communities way of keeping us from mating, it could be a catastrophe if that happened, Lilith forbid. It took me almost 4 years to stop saying the G word (God), it’s offensive as the N word is to some humans in the community.
    Vampires, allegedly, descend from Adam’s first wife, Lilith. I’ll spare you the boring details, it’s a universally accepted concept that often takes us newbies sometime to wrap our heads around. I noticed from my time in Vampires Ed that the people who were religious in their mortal lives had the hardest time coming to terms with the concept. The idea that God had any hand in the creation of such ungodly creatures such as ourselves was just not fathomable. I wasn’t raised in a religious household, my mother only said God when it was followed by damn. I read the bible in college when I was going through a self crisis of sorts but it just didn’t stick with me.
      “That video makes even the worst vampires I know look glamourous and sexy. Pete Wentz with fangs just isn’t sexy. Fall Out Boy gives the vampire community bad publicity. I suppose it’s just a good thing it came out before we became unlawful, eh?” I sank my teeth into the tender flesh of his thigh one more time, I hadn’t had anything but the fake stuff for over a week. I was afraid to leave the apartment in case Serena’s goonies came after me. Okay, I was being paranoid, and reading horror novels wasn’t helping my mindset in the least.
    “Didn’t your maker every teach you not to play with your food? It really isn’t becoming…” I started at the voice, my fangs grazing my meal’s leg, leaving a mark. I knew that voice and I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with him today.
  I turned and retracted my fangs, smiling tightly. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Michael. I thought anything below tenth street was below you these days.” My eyes quickly danced across his body and I instantly regretted it. He looked good, but then again he always looked good. I cursed myself internally, I knew better than to think he might look bad in any sense of the word. Michael was the perfect mix of casual and formal in his dark, perfect fit jeans, and deep green button down, it really brought out the green in his hazel eyes. Once upon a time, when I was very new to the community Michael’s eyes made me sigh. Now they made me sick. Michael viewed humans as a food source only. To him mortals were merely cows to slaughter and that attitude had been the straw that broke our relationship’s back.
    “You wound me my love,” he pressed his hands to his chest with a look of mock pain. I rolled my eyes and stood up, smoothing the skirt of my dress, just for something to do with my hands. Anxiety and obsessive ticks like that transferred with you after the change, much to my dismay. “I wasn’t slumming, dearheart. I came to see you and I know how you favor this blood bank.” My only response was a nod that I hoped came off as disinterested. I was very interested, however, in knowing why on earth Michael was looking for me of all vampires.
    “You’re mistaken, dear,” I let the venom drip from the endearment, ”I’m no longer in the market for heartless bastards. You might try the strip club on Grant, though. I’m sure there are plenty of ignorant little girls who would be very interested.”
    He narrowed his eyes for a moment, obviously displeased at my tone of distaste. “Ah but then where would I get my doses of this delightful sarcasm and abuse?” He winked at me and my heart dropped into my stomach, betraying me. Even when he was being the world’s biggest asshat the man had an effect on my heart along with other parts.
    “I don’t blame you for being you but you can’t blame for hating it,” the words rolled off my tongue and I glanced over my shoulder to share a quick grin with Cayden. “Really Michael, I have to get going, the night waits for no one just tell me what it is you want before I find a stake with your name on it.”
    “The word on the street is you’ve been reviewing Blanco’s new clubs and restaurants. I’ve come to tell you to stop, Everley. No-” he held up a hand to stop me from spouting off like I was about to do, “I’m serious. The man is dangerous and you don’t need to get involved in that. You know he’s rumored to be a part of a Bloodhound Gang.”
    “Where exactly ‘on the streets’ did you hear that, Michael? Hanging out with our good friend Serena again?” Serena was another nail in the relationship coffin. Evil bitch. “I don’t know what she said but all I did was inspect his new, lame, club downtown. Also, you know Bloodhound Gangs are just a story to keep young vampires in line.” Bloodhound Gangs were the vampire community’s boogey man. They were a twist between the mafia and Robin Hood. The stories ranged from murders to just small thefts from the better off. In any case there was no real proof that such groups existed. I suddenly felt foolish, Michael was nothing to me now, not my boyfriend or my mentor, what I did was none of his business. My chin jutted out, indignantly “Besides, it wouldn’t really be your concern if I did have anything to do with Blanco, anyways.”
    His hands were on my arms before I could even blink. I struggled against him, kicking his shin like a frustrated ten year old. “What are you waiting for, kiss her, kiss her,” I heard Cayden muttering under his breath and was suddenly angry at myself for not feeding enough to make him pass out. Michael was very old, too old for me probably, and didn’t take  disrespect  lightly, even when it was unintentional. I spun around just in time to see him snap the man’s neck like a farmhouse chicken.
    “Michael! What the hell! He didn’t do anything!” My voice had escalated to a pitch that only dogs and other vampires could hear, I was sure. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen someone kill a human, but this was the first one I knew beyond how his blood tasted. It was a lovely combination of apples and licorice, just the right mix of sweet and bitter, just like Cayden himself. On instinct I ran over to check for a pulse, knowing I wouldn’t find one. He was truly gone.
    “Don’t be so dramatic, princessa, he was just a bag of blood, there’s a million more of them, ripe for the taking.” He gestured with a hand at the nineteen other stalls that all contained willing donors. I wondered how many had overheard what just happened. Many blood banks got closed down from lack of donors, they were becoming sparse and hard to find in decent areas. I really liked this one, it would be a shame if Michael had just got this one shut down too, out of fear. I was ashamed of myself for thinking that way. The real shame was that an innocent man had died for an idiot’s pride.
    “I have nothing left to say to you.” I glared up at him, wishing time travel wasn’t out of reach even for vampires. Part of me contemplated the idea of blaming this all on Serena, though the penalty for this kind of death would be a mere slap on the wrist. The proverbial light bulb went bright in my head. I stood up and pointed a finger at him. “Change him! I want you to change him over or I’m going to the council. I’m sure they’d be interested in this along with the other things I know...” The last bit was a bit of bluffing but the terror that lit his eyes, albeit briefly, was enough to let me know I had struck a nerve. “I’m not kidding, Michael Eliot. I’m not allowed to do it for another three decades, so you’re going to do it for me.” My threat had better work, I thought to myself, the only thing left in my bag of tricks was seducing him.
    “I don’t think that’s the wisest idea, Everley. I’m sure he’d be much happier going into the light, or whatever humans are taught happens after death these days. We’ll just drop his body and send a nice floral arrangement for the funeral. No harm, no foul, yeah?” I tapped my food and crossed my arms, staring at him impatiently. Giving in was something I did far too often with people and vampires, but not this time. I was determined to have my way this time around. Michael had made a mistake and now I intended to make him fix it, even if it meant playing bad cop.
         He dejectedly sank to his knees on the other side of Cayden’s body and gave me one final glare before sinking his fangs into the man’s neck. I watched as he made fresh puncture wounds before biting his own wrist and letting the blood drip, painfully slow, into the holes. Michael scooped the man up and slung him over his shoulder in one fluid motion like the body was a sack of flour. He kissed my cheek, getting dangerously close to my ear, whispering “Until next time kitten…” I watched him walk out of the building to bury the body for the three days before he would awaken again, shaking my head at the pet name. I don’t know what it was about that endearment that irked me but it did and Michael’s use of it was doubly unpleasant in my book. 
         As I walked home I began to second guess my choice. I worried that Cayden’s family would have the same unpleasant reaction that mine had to my change. Would they have been happier to give him a beautiful service and say their goodbyes properly? Would Cayden be happier going onto what lay beyond this world, even if it was just a black oblivion? Was I playing Lilith by forcing Michael to turn him? The questions rattled in my head as my half hour journey home took me a full two hours. The day was threatening to break as I finally made it back into my apartment and into my bed with it’s sunny yellow covers. I looked up to see that my heavy black drapes were fully closed before my eyes closed and a blissful darkness overtook me.
         Before I became one of the undead I was under the assumption that when they slept they more or less died, and had a dream free existence. After I became one of the undead I learned just how wrong I was with that theory. I had always been a vivid dreamer, so I wasn’t surprised the first time I had an undead nightmare. It was like being caught in real life, a horror movie you couldn’t escape. That night I dreamt of Cayden, a pale, shadow of the bright boy I had come to know however briefly from feeding on him every few weeks. He chased me toward two doors, behind one was Serena and the other vampire Pete Wentz. The latter was almost laughable, and a clear choice for dream me. I woke up with a jolt right after reaching the Pete Wentz door. If my heart were still beating I’m sure it would be nearly beating out of my chest. I shook my head, how bizarre.



Chapter 5
Sunday, Bloody Sundae

         When I was still alive ice cream was the ultimate dessert in my book. It was the ultimate cure all or just random treat. Even the dog my ex-husband and I had loved ice cream. We’d walk her to the little ice cream parlor up the hill from our small, but classic, ranch home, and buy her a baby cone. I still smile when I think of her delicately licking the cone as we held it for her and then chomping down on the cone like the beast she thought she was. Before I truly understood the concept of “human food tastes without blood tastes like dirt” I bought a quart of my favorite ice cream, banana with fudge swirl, and planned to drown my sorrows in it. One bite and I was ready to swear off of ice cream entirely. I was devastated at the thought of spending eternity without ice cream and then I discovered someplace wonderful.
         Bloody Sundae was a little slice of vampiric Eden as far as I was concerned. It had the looks of a sweet, vintage ice cream parlor, the kind we all picture our grandparents getting together at as teenagers for egg creams and phosphates. The floors were a classic mint green and white checkered tile, the stools and booths were a shiny, polished silver with mint green and buttercup yellow, leather seats. The best part was the speakeasy quality of the location. The parlor was located in the back of an abandoned warehouse near the lakefront. From the outside it looked like a condemned building, boasting dilapidated outer walls and caution tape.
The owner and her partner were turned in the 50’s...the 1450’s but had an obsession with the kitsch and charm of the 1950’s. They were good friends of mine, how could you not befriend one of your best customers? I had an affection for their blood orange sundaes with extra sauce. The sauce was the perfect combination of tang from the orange and metallic tang from the blood they used. 
The bells chimed as I walked into the store, clipboard in hand. I heard one of the owners, Maribelle, wishing someone a bloody Sunday as she handed them their change. I took a moment to inhale the sweet smell of the place, wishing I was there for a Sunday evening treat instead of to inspect. This wasn’t the first time I inspected Bloody Sundae, I had never found any issues before and I doubted I’d find anything this time, either. I glanced at the girls working behind the counter in their adorable black t-shirts featuring an ice cream sundae with a fangy smile and cherry on top, BLoody Mary’s wait staff really seemed tacky in comparison.
I glanced around the shop, not surprised by the large and diverse crowd it drew in. Not every vampire wanted to be surrounded by men and women in cheap leather as obnoxious techno music thumped overhead. The quiet overhead music and soft atmosphere at Bloody Sundae made many feel like they were human again, at least it did for me.
I glanced at the very most corner table in the shop, a small round silver table with a stool for one, perpetually occupied by a vampire that never outgrew her emo kid phase. She was turned very young and within the last five years according to Maribelle. I wasn’t sure when she had first started coming here but she was always in the corner, perched on a stool and hunched over a black notebook, scribbling away.
I cursed my mother, for the first time that day, for instilling a sense of politeness and social norms in me. Olivia glanced up and looked me in the eye, there was officially no way I could avoid at least a quick hello before I carried on with work. I walked over to the hidden table, nearly knocking into a waitress on my way, my mind wasn’t wholly there. I stopped in front of the table and gave a tentative smile “Hey Olivia, how’s it going today?”
The dramatic sigh that came out of her mouth made me want to shake her and tell her she was well past the age where teenage angst was acceptable. “Today is just tomorrow’s yesterday, so why does it matter how it is going?”
I mumbled a curse under my breath, I’m sure she heard me, but I could care less at that point. “Oh… Uh, yeah, that makes sense,” I managed to stutter it out instead of saying what I was thinking; that someone should put the girl out of her misery already. “Have you written any good poetry lately? My roommate and I just love reading your work on your Fang-book.” Fang-book was the best vampire social networking site, for the moment. The truth was Bella and I like to mock the girl’s sexual innuendo filled haikus and poems. Bella swore Olivia would feel better and wear more color if she just got laid. I couldn’t agree more.
She looked at me, her disbelief written all over face. She practically guffawed at me, emitting a laugh, intertwined with a snort before looking back down at her notebook. I was sure I was bound to become a character in her next moody poem. I took the laugh as my dismissal and made my way back to toward the counter. That was the last time I tried to be nice to the weird girl. I chuckled to myself at the thought of putting her in a room with Serena and locking the door. I wasn’t sure who would come out alive, though maybe Serena would show the girl some mercy and teach her a make-up trick beyond the heavy eyeliner and black lipstick.   
I waved hello to Maribelle and wandered to the employee door to find her partner in business and life, Gertrude. Gertrude was one of the tiniest, and scariest women I’d ever met.  Everything about her was severe. Her face was all sharp angles, a jutting chin, and dark eyes set almost too far apart. Her borderline black hair was always pulled back into a severe bun that always looked painful to me.
I found her leaning against a counter, her arms crossed defensively across her chest as she argued with a familiar face. Ricky Blanco’s trusty watchdog, Marcella was standing in front of her, her face contorted in anger. I coughed into my hand to alert them of my presence. The two jumped in surprise, a look of annoyance briefly passed over Gertrude’s face before she rushed over to greet me. We exchanged a quick double kiss, as if we were old time girlfriends who met to lunch in Paris from time to time.
“Everley! What a nice surprise!” Her voice made me suspect it wasn’t a pleasant surprise at all, even though in reality we had made this appointment a week ago. “This is Marcella,” she gestured dismissively at the other woman, “but she was just about to take her leave, unfortunately.”
“He is not going to be pleased with this, Gertrude,” Marcella’s voice was so sharp it could have sliced through glass. I wondered who the he was, but assumed it was Blanco. Now the real question was what was Gertrude doing with the sleazy club owner? I really had to get my inner detective under control before I found myself in hot water. I had read enough true and not so true crime novels to know that the protagonist never leaves the situation truly unscathed.
“It smells like heaven in here, Gerty, what are you making?” I was trying my best to dull my inquisitive nature about her visitor, choosing to focus on the marshmallow scent that lay heavy in the air. “Please tell me Maribelle finally convinced you to make a s’mores sundae with your type O chocolate ice cream.” I grinned at her, hoping my chatter was easing the tension I felt rolling off of her in waves. “I would kill for a good old fashioned campfire s’more. I had a donor last week who smelled like graham crackers but tasted a lot more salty than sweet.” The words were tumbling out of my mouth, I knew I was babbling but if I stopped I would ask a question I shouldn’t.
“I can’t reveal my secret of this week’s mystery sundae, Everley, you know better than that,” she said with a small laugh that sounded forced to me. I loved their whimsical idea of a new sundae on Sunday each week. If they weren’t vampires the couple would have made excellent preschool teachers. “I have to go help Maribelle with the customers, it looks like she’s getting busy out there, but you know where everything is, do your thing.” She walked out the swinging silver doors, sticking her head back in a moment later, “Keep the sampling to a minimum though, okay? I wouldn’t want to have to break out my paddle because you broke the rules.” Normally a grown woman, vampire or not, threatening to paddle me would have been laughable. When Gertrude threatened it I got a chill of fear, and she knew it.