Yet here he is, claiming to be one. In the flesh.
“What?” I manage to sputter out.
“You’re right,” he says slowly, as if speaking to a toddler. “I am a vampire. I’m not going to lie to you, now that you’ve so boldly guessed.”
“What you do is amazing,” I say, remembering his teeth against my neck. “Those feelings you give, they’re better than any high I’ve ever had.”
“It feels even better on my end,” he says, giving me a devilish smirk and a wink. “Believe me.”
“Better?” I can hardly believe anything can feel better than the sensations he gives me. But if that’s true . . . I want to feel it. “How can I feel that?”
“You can’t,” he says, looking at me with a searching eye. “Not unless you’re a vampire.”
“Then I want to become one!” I say quickly. My heart is thumping in my chest. “I want to be like you.”
“That’s a very serious request,” he says slowly. “It’s a very difficult thing, to become one of us. You have to be committed. You’ve known about me for two days. That’s hardly commitment. You’re simply excited.”
“Don’t underestimate me,” I snap, eyes flashing wildly. “I know what I want. I’ve always known what I wanted. And I want this.”
He rubs his chin thoughtfully, staring at me for a moment. Then he lets out a heavy sigh and leans back in his chair.
“Come by my home this evening. I want you to see more of my life, and perhaps I can drink from you again.” He smirks at this, sending my stomach in knots of anticipation. “You can also meet another vampire, a man I live with. Then we’ll see how eager you are for this change.”
He gives me the address and bids me farewell. I leave his office with weak knees and a fluttering stomach, just thinking of what’s to come.
*****
I show up at his home around 6 P.M. I purposefully left my apartment early, at around 5:15, and thankfully so. I ended up getting lost and had to backtrack at least twice before finding his home.
It’s an immense mansion, surrounded by other equally as big homes. It’s clearly a rich neighborhood, and I felt out of place and inadequate just driving down their streets. Never could I dream of having a house like this. It’s just not possible.
I park my car in their wide, long driveway and scamper up to the front door. I knock on the door nervously.
Moments later, I hear the sound of footsteps approaching. I straighten out my shirt and pat down my hair in a last minute attempt to look presentable. The door opens, and I’m faced with someone new.
A different man stands before me, not Damien. For a moment I panic, thinking I’ve walked up to the wrong house. But then he gives me a wide smile and I remember Damien mentioning having a roommate. This must be him.
“You must be Danielle,” he says, stepping aside and gesturing for me to enter. “Welcome to our home. It doesn’t see guests often, so you’re a welcome surprise.”
“Thank you,” I say nervously, giving him a smile. “You’re Damien’s roommate?”
“Yes,” he says. “My name is Christopher. We’ve been friends for a long time, we go way back.”
“That’s nice,” I say, slowly staring to feel more comfortable in Christopher’s presence. He looks nothing like Damien, but that have the same air about them. They carry themselves in the same way. Christopher has wavy brown hair and pale skin. His eyes are a strange, ambiguous color that I can't quite make out. Sometimes they look blue, sometimes grey, and sometimes even green.
When he smiles, I can just make out the sharp points of his teeth.
He leads me down a dimly lit hallway and into a sitting room. I settle onto the couch there and look up at him expectantly.
“Damien should be here soon,” he says, still standing. “Would you like something to drink, in the meantime?”
He says the word drink with a mischievous glint in his eye, and I shiver. But I accept his offer and he bustles off into the other