Lewis Aleman - The Anti-Vampire

The patchouli girl swipes at me—trying to get her nails into my arm—without looking in her direction, Roderick shoves her backward with his foot.

Ambrosia calls out, “Ruby! Jealous friends say stupid things, especially when they’re drunk…I’m sorry.”

I try to say don’t worry about it, but Roderick’s pressing fingers keep me from speaking.

If a second were a vast ocean, before even one droplet could pass, he spins around flinging his arm and me hanging from it out the jagged hole in the window. Between his hand clasping my neck and the thick, smoke-filled air, I don’t know if I’ll ever breathe deeply again.

Stare at the moon above—starts to go out of focus.

“Edgar’s gone!” a female voice declares loudly from inside the room.

Can’t see inside, but know the voice—familiar—can’t place it.

The familiar female continues, “He’s gone, and he took two of the human girls with him.”

“What?” Roderick demands, his fingers squeezing my neck tighter, “What are you doing here, Maxine, and what the hell are you wearing?”

Of course—was Maxine’s voice.

She says, “Just trying something different.”

“And the clothes?”

“Them too.”

A different woman’s voice cuts through the air—harsher than Maxine’s—must be patchouli girl, “So what? What about the stuff—the new breed? Said he was going to get the stuff for me!”

Roderick grunts.

Maxine answers, “The girls are pregnant—vampire babies are the new breed.”

Many feet rush toward the other side of the room, must be heading to the opening in the bookshelf—fast footsteps, loud with desperation.

Roderick’s hand releases me —— I drop —— falling through the hazy, hot air—transferring the heat of the fire onto me—penetrating deep into my skin.

Sound of cracking and metal wrenching—something scrambling beneath me. My legs hit something—then my back hits something else.

Simon. Caught me mid-air. His arms holding me—standing crooked—at an angle. He smiles at me, wobbles, and falls—both of us crashing to the broken bit of balcony that still stands.

Fire flickers near our feet—we’re sliding down the slope of the balcony toward it. His arm wraps tightly around my waist—his other grabs the top edge of the balcony and starts pulling us higher and away from the hungry orange and red tongues flickering at us—waiting for us to slide down into them.

He pulls us up higher and lodges his arm around the edge of the balcony—his other arm still pressing me to him—snugly wrapped around my waist.

He drags me up his body until my face is just above his.

“How’re you doing, Bright Eyes?”

Press my lips against his. So tense—emotion exploding.

His chest convulses—I pull back—he starts to cough.

“Can’t hold you much longer, Ruby—too weak—too much of that poison in me—can’t breathe—can’t last much longer. Gotta get you out of here.”

Put my hand to his cheek—it’s cold, even with the flames coming so close to us. Look down at his hand holding me to him—his wrist is bruised horribly—like he’s broken out of shackles.

“Bite me, Simon.”

“Have to try to throw you over the flames onto the yard—your only chance.”

“No, Ambrosia’s up there—gotta save her too. Bite me—bite me now!”

“Throw you clear—you try to roll when you hit the ground. I’ll try to get back up there to help her—you get out of here—far away and safe.”

“Dammit!” I shout and grab his face with both hands, kissing him very hard, then backing off and staring into his eyes that are starting to look faded and pale, “Bite me, Simon! Do it—now!”

He kisses me quickly, slides his lips over my cheek and down my neck. Lips make a circle on my neck. Sudden sting. Tender, but still feels like a kiss—enough to force an exhale charged with emotion out of me.

His free hand still holds me to him, but he’s moved it to the small of my back, his fingers caressing me.

My eyes close—all I feel are his teeth and lips—and the tender stroke of his touch. The blackness behind my eyelids turns teal.

His mouth leaves my neck, and his hand tightens at my back. He starts to stand—pulling me up with him. Still at an angle, but he feels balanced now—strong enough to hold me steady too. Bruise on his wrist looks much better—fading away already. His eyes blaze bright blue.

“Going in the window now—get on my back, put your arms around my neck—wrap your legs around my waist—as tight as you can—quickly.”

“Okay,” I answer as he’s already turned around, looking at the wall he must climb.

Sliding my arms and legs around him, I know the danger we’re heading into—I feel the heat of the fire below us—hear the broken balcony creaking and threatening to give way at any moment, but I still feel tingles spark through me with my body wrapped around him—pressed to him. Even the threat of probable death can’t hold back the sensation. So insane. So wonderful. So deadly.

He reaches his hands up, digging his fingernails into the wood and lifting the both of us off the balcony—climbing the wall up to the hole in the window, one floor above us.

Think about what was in that room when I was dropped out of it—know what waits for us up there—a feeling surges up inside me. Can’t go another second without doing it. Might never have another chance to do it.

“Simon, stop—look at me.”

He turns his head as far as he can in my direction. Hanging onto his neck two and a half floors above a raging fire, I lean to the side, putting my face an inch in front of his.

“Simon, I love you.”

He smiles the sexiest smile and says, “I know you do.”

Before I can register that his words aren’t what I’m dying to hear, he’s already moving toward the window—faster now. Hold tighter to his neck.

As our heads peer through the busted window, the conversation reaches our ears.

“Bit convenient that you’re here tonight, Maxine, don’t you think?”

“What’re you talkin’ about, Roderick? You know I hate you—ain’t nothing changed. Just nothing else to do tonight.”

“Really? Here in my house with all this going on—humans running here and there—cars crashing into the front of the building—fires—and a little vampire civil war, and you just happen to be here in the house of someone you hate? Then you come prancing on in here telling everyone a secret you’re not even supposed to know—sending nearly all of my people racing out of here after a fix, and you expect me to believe it’s all a coincidence?”

Quickly scan over what I can see of the room—does look like most of them have left—running after Edgar to satisfy their revolting addiction. Those that I can see have their backs to us and the window—all facing Maxine.

Maxine says, “Don’t really care what you believe, ugly. Never have.”

Roderick walks toward Maxine with his fingers spread out near his sides, ready to swing them at her.

Maxine holds her ground, bending her knees, and stretching her own hands in front of her.

Simon holds both of us with one hand on the windowsill and both of his boots pressed against the front of the house. His free hand slides gently up and down my right forearm that is still wrapped around his neck.

A young-looking vampire with short, brown hair and very long sideburns whom I’ve never seen before follows behind Roderick, also approaching Maxine threateningly—don’t recognize him. Carvelli still holds Ambrosia–can see one of her blue ponytails peeking out past his shoulder. Patchouli girl stands to the side of Carvelli with her tongue pressed to the tip of a fang—staring ravenously at Ambrosia—the only one not watching what’s going on with Maxine.