Fledgling (The Vampire Manifesto, Book Two) (3 page)

I’ve always loathed that picture.

“Rose. Amber.” The host stated. “Caucasian female, seventeen years of age.” She turned towards Connor. “Shall Miss Rose be registered as a favored client as well?”

“Yes.” He answered.

“Indeed.” She said. “An additional million will be added to the annual rate. Red Room access has been sanctioned.”

The wall faded again, fluctuating back to the panoramic view of the club outside the room.

“I’ll notify you when my…guest arrives.” Connor stated.

The host nodded then turned to leave. After she was wholly gone, I turned to Connor.

“What the hell was that all about?” I asked. “What’s the deal with this place?”

“The 20twelve Lounge is somewhere that you can go and…encounter people.” He proclaimed.

The way he explained that just seemed kinda off. “What manner of people?”

“The unsavory sort.” He answered. “The type of people who can accomplish things, or procure objects that would typically be frowned upon by cultured society.”

I looked out at the club beyond, scrutinizing the type of cliental it serviced. They all seemed like they were well off, money wise. Exceptionally well dressed, nothing skullduggery about them at all.

“Is that our Mayor?” I exclaimed.

“Hmmm, Mayor Richards, yes that’s her.” Connor frowned. “Remind me to kill her daughter afterwards.”

I didn’t even want to know.

“How can you afford all this?” I asked. “The cars, the private plane and airstrip? You just spent sixteen million dollars on a membership like you were ordering a number three at Burger King.”

Connor laughed. “The stock market isn’t that problematic to navigate when one of your close acquaintances is a time traveler.”

“John Rogers.” I stated. “And now it all makes sense in an ass backwards kind of way.”

Plus I’ve won the mega million lottery approximately six or seven times.” He added.

“What?” I was astonished. “How in the hell did you do that?”

Connor drained his glass. “You curse a lot.”

“Just answer the question.” I demanded. “Rogers contributed the winning numbers?”

“Well not per say.” He stood up, moving closer to the flat screen wall. “I’ve…familiarized myself to the winners.”

“You mean you killed them.” I amended.

“No, no, no.” He shook his head. “That would attract too much attention. I persuade them…”

“You mean you enthralled them.”

“Well, yes.” Connor turned towards me. “I enthralled them to bequeath me their money. All of it.”

“Then what?” I asked. “You just leave them destitute?”

Connor seemed surprised at the allegation. “What category of monster do you reason I am? No, after they give me their money, typically its somewhere around one hundred and fifty million, maybe two hundred million if they were fortunate, I establish an account for them, twenty million dollars is what I’ve come to recognize is the precise amount of money through trial and error. It’s sufficient enough for them to splurge and purchase whatsoever they hunger for and keep up the appearance that they still have their extensive lottery winnings. Plus I’ll invest a portion of that twenty million that I’ve deposited into their account with the statistics I receive from John Rogers whenever he elects to pop into our timeline, just so their account can be replenished if need be.”

“You’re insane.” I alleged in revulsion.

“Absolutely.” He agreed. “But I’m also a futurist. You’re immortal now Madison. You need to think in the long term and when I say long term; I’m talking about epochs at a time. Money makes the world go round young lady. You wanna work at Wal-Mart for the remainder of your immortal life? You need money to endure and preferably, lots of it, but you can’t draw attention to yourself. You don’t wanna pop up on somebody’s radar. You can’t become a movie star or open up a computer corporation because we dwell in the era of the silicon chip and the internet now. Somebody is gonna notice when a dude who won the Oscars thirty years ago got photographed on an ATM camera and hasn’t aged a day. You need to learn how to prepare for shit like that.”

Connor and his asinine logic that makes sense...

“What’s so extraordinary about this Red Room?” I began to take in my environment, remarking that everything from the furnishings to the wine was a dark crimson. “Other than the décor.”

“You’ll understand soon enough.” Connor was observing the screens, concentrating on the entrance to the 20twelve Lounge. “You hear that?”

I paused temporarily. “Yeah. Identical heartbeat. Whoever it is, they’re right outside the Lounge now.”

“Excellent.” Connor pressed on the wall screen and our hosts face appeared on it. “Our guest has arrived. They’re outside right now. Please have them chaperoned to the Red Room.”

“Right away, Mr. Prometheus.” The representation of the host faded from view.

A couple of seconds later a woman was shepherded inside the 20twelve Lounge. I could tell by the way her heartbeat was racing and by the way the bouncer had her gripped by the arm that she didn’t have any choice in the matter.

It took me a second before it dawned on me. “I know that woman.”

Connor shot me glance. “Really?”

“Yeah.” I couldn’t believe it. “That’s my principle, Staci Girard.”

“Well didn’t this just get stimulating?” Connor secured a seat next to me and waited patiently until the entry of the Red Room opened and Principle Girard was callously escorted inside by a brute of a man in an exceptionally well cut suit.

“Johnny Fingers, it’s been a while.” Connor said. “How’s the family?”

“Life’s a bitch and then you die.” Fingers shoved Staci into the chair opposite of us.

“Appropriately spoken.” Connor was watching our new guest attentively.

“Madison?” Girard exclaimed in astonishment.

Johnny Fingers hesitated at the egress. “When you get an opportunity, Sal wanted to know if you could swing by, got some…tech he wishes you to check out.”

This caught Connors attention. “What kinda tech?”

Girard slanted towards me. “Madison what’s going on here? Do you know these individuals?”

Connor shot his head towards Staci. “Shut up. Do not speak unless spoken too.”

Johnny chuckled under his breath slightly. “I’m not sure, I haven’t seen it myself, but the Boss keeps referring to it as a Gorilla Unit.”

“A Gorilla Unit?” Connors brow furrowed. “I haven’t seen one of those since…” He shook his head. “Inform your Boss not to fuck with it. That’s Fourth World, Medusa technology, exceedingly unstable and tremendously volatile. I know a guy who knows a guy. Let me touch base with him first.”

“I’ll pass the word.” Johnny Fingers said.

“Give Sal Pegleyomme and the rest of the boys my love.” Connor focused his attention towards Staci Girard. “You may speak now.”

She looked alarmed, but not as petrified as she should be. Something was categorically off about her. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but I’m calling the police if you don’t release me at once.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Go ahead.”

“What?” Girard somewhat taken aback.

“Call them. Please do.” Connor replied. “In fact, here, I’ll do it for you.”

Connor pulled out his cell, pressed speaker, then dialed 911, yet nothing transpired. There was nothing but static on the other end. Girard reached into her purse, her hand trembling, virtually knocking out its entire contents on the tabletop as she rummaged for her phone. She dialed 911 as well, yet the result was identical, nothing but static interference.

“I don’t…” Girard was stuttering, unexpectedly terror-stricken. “I don’t understand.”

I could ascertain the dread in her eyes and it made me thirsty.

“Madison, please, help me.” She beseeched.

I refused speak, instead snatching the Champagne decanter of blood by the neck, ignoring the crystal glasses altogether and downing the contents.

“You see…” Connor indicated to the room around us. “This locality has been baptized the Red Room. It has precise dimensions and qualities about it, most of which I’m going to divulge to you now. First off, there are numerous frequency jamming mechanisms built into the walls and ceilings, which in effect, render cell phones inactive.”

She was about to make a run for it. I could perceive it in her body movements, the way her muscles tensed up in her neck and shoulders. Nothing audacious mind you, just miniscule movements, but adequate enough for my Vampire eyes to distinguish.

“I’d snap your neck before you even made it to the door.” Apparently, Connor detected it as well.

I could discern her starting to body relax, though not by much. Connor seemed just a little too tranquil. I could tell he was enjoying this. He took pleasure from her fear, celebrated in her anxiety.

Is this my future? Is this what I’m predestined to become?

Better yet, is this what I am already?

“Now I’m going to ask you some questions, okay Staci?” The enthusiasm on Connors face when he said this made me nauseous. Only because it emulated my own countenance.

“Okay.” Girard was analyzing me, imploring with her eyes for my assistance, yet all I could do was smile in anticipation.

“Why were you following me?” He asked.

“Why were you following us?” I amended.

My manner took Connor by surprise, more so than it did my Principle. I was getting stimulated; I could feel the blood in my body began to hasten, generating heat that made my skin tingle.

“If you lie to us Principle Girard, well…I just think that it would end very badly for you. Very, very badly.” My pitch was even, but my emotions were in disarray. I didn’t want her to tell the truth. I wanted her to lie. Just the notion of killing her sent little orgasmic shudders across my flesh.

“Uh oh.” Connor laughed. “Looks like you got a case of bad cop, worse cop.”

I wanted to bound across the table and rip out her heart. “Do you understand why they call this place the Red Room, Principle Girard?”

Connor looked at me skeptically. “Do you?”

“This is where you can go and kill someone.” I finished. “It’s a privilege that the members of the 20twelve Lounge pay dearly for.”

Connor seemed astonished. “Huh…well I guess you do.”

“Oh my God.” Girard sobbed to herself, tears streaking down the side of the face.

“I am a member.” I added. “Do you comprehend what that means Staci? Do you understand that I am a member of the 20twelve Lounge and you are sitting in the Red Room with me? Do you understand that every single person in this establishment pays for this amenity? Do you understand that there is no one here that would come to your aid?”

She just sat there, crying, incapable of speech. It made me want to caress her, hold her close to me and whisper in her ear that everything was going to be okay. She wasn’t old, no, not by far, twenty-six max. I always speculated how someone that young could get an appointment as a Principle, but she was well qualified for the task, test scores went up almost immediately after she was hired.

Her ruby hair and delicious complexion reminded me of Dakota, my innocent little Dakota Theia, with the almond shaped eyes and the skin like electric velvet, yet even as I contemplated her, all I hungered after was just to kiss Girard softly on her stomach, my lips brushing softly against her skin, my tongue moving in slow circles. There was so many things that I envisioned myself doing to her at this moment and once I was done, all I wanted was her blood down my throat until my heartbeat began synchronizing its tempo with hers, beating in unison until hers ceased to beat altogether.

“So please, answer all of our questions.” I demanded. “Do not lie. I’ll know.”

Connor had repositioned himself somewhat so he could see me better. “What in the hell has gotten into you?”

I thought about it for a moment. “I just really wanna fuck something then kill it.” I turned towards him. “What’s up with that?”

He couldn’t contain his laughter. “It’s that young chick you encountered earlier. Her scent has made you blood drunk. Your senses are getting out of control and everything is being augmented. This is what I was cautioning you about earlier. You can’t go home like this, no, you don’t want to be near anybody you care about in this state. You need to feed first.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off Principle Girard. “I agree.”

“And preferably that girl you met earlier.” He added. “What’s her name again?”

“Dakota Theia.” I replied. “Don’t act like you don’t remember.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well her scent is in your system now; you’re blood drunk off the essence of her. That feeling won’t go away. Ever. She’ll always be in your thoughts, always in the back of your consciousness. That’s never good.”

Girard had stopped crying, but she didn’t speak, she was frozen in fear, our tête-à-tête about how we can be so cavalier about murder slowly beginning to sink in. I think she’s starting to realize that no matter what she tells us, she’s never leaving this room alive.

“What’s the big deal?” I asked. “So she gets me a little anxious, so what?”