Panic hits me like a train, cold, unrelenting, and way too real for a Tuesday night. Or is it Wednesday?
Who cares?
My mind's racing faster than my heart, which is pounding like it's trying to escape my chest. The hand over my mouth is strong, no give at all, and those teeth or fangs? are buried deep in my neck.
It hurts like hell at first, a sharp stab that makes my eyes water, but then... whoa.
A weird warmth spreads, like I've chugged a bottle of liquid fire mixed with ecstasy. My legs buckle, and I crumple to the sidewalk like a sack of potatoes, the fizzing soda pooling around my sneakers.
"Shit, shit, shit," I try to mumble, but it comes out as a garbled wheeze against the palm.
I'm on my back now, staring up at the flickering streetlights, which are doing this creepy strobe effect like a bad club scene. My arms feel heavy, like they're filled with lead, and my vision's blurring at the edges.
Strength?
What strength?
It's leaking out of me faster than air from a popped balloon. And then I hear it, the slurp. Oh god, the slurp. It's like someone sucking the last dregs of a milkshake through a straw, wet and gross and way too intimate.
Is that my blood? Am I the freaking milkshake? My attacker, or feeder, I guess, pulls back with a satisfied sigh, and I get my first look.
Holy mother of all fantasies.
She's... stunning. Red hair tumbling down like a waterfall of fire, skin so pale it glows under the neon, and eyes, red eyes, locking onto mine with this intense, predatory gleam.
Fangs peek out from her full lips, dripping with what I assume is my blood. Real fangs. Not those cheap Halloween ones that fall out mid-bite. These are legit, sharp as hell, and she's drooling a bit, a thin trail of crimson mixing with saliva.
It's horrifying and it's hot. My brain's short-circuiting.
She steps over me, straddling my prone form like I'm some conquered territory, her black coat swirling dramatically. Up close, she's even more beautiful, high cheekbones, a smirk that's equal parts amusement and menace. "Well, well," she purrs, her voice like cloth wrapped around a knife. "You didn't even put up a fight. Most scream or beg. But you... you're just lying there, staring. Admiring the view?"I blink up at her, my body numb but my mind whirring.
This is it? My vampire dream come true?
Except I'm the prey, not the predator.
And she's drooling on me.
Classy.
My mouth feels like cotton, but I manage a weak croak. "Y-you're... real? Fangs and all? Holy crap, I thought mosquitoes were bad, but this... this is next level."
She laughs, a sound that's melodic but edged with something unhinged, like she's one bad day away from going full psycho.
Her eyes narrow, amused by my babbling. She crouches down, her face inches from mine, that drool now dangerously close to dripping on my hoodie.
"Oh, darling, I'm very real. And you taste... exquisite. A little salty, but with a hint of desperation. My favorite." She licks her lips, fangs glinting. "Now, the question is, what to do with you? Drain you dry? Or... do you want to turn into one? Join the eternal party?"My thoughts tumble like a bad comedy routine.
Turn?
Into a vampire?
Me?
The guy who can't even commit to a college major? Not like I've got anything better to do, binge more reruns? Flunk out spectacularly? Hell, this beats listening to neighbor porn. I swallow hard, the metallic tang of blood, mine?, coating my throat. "Y-yes," I rasp, half-convinced this is a hallucination from bad cherry cola.
"Sign me up. Eternal life sounds better than my student loans."Her grin widens, fangs fully on display, and she straightens up with a flourish. "Amusing little mortal. I like your spirit, or what's left of it." Without another word, she raises her wrist to her mouth and, crunch, tears into it with her nails, which are long and sharp like knifes. Blood wells up, dark and viscous, and she shoves it toward my lips. "Drink. And welcome to the night side."I hesitate for a split second, Is this sanitary? What if I get vamp cooties?, but the warmth from her bite is fading, replaced by a cold void.
I latch on, sucking like my life depends on it (which it does). The blood hits my tongue—sweet, coppery, with a kick like spiced wine. It surges through me, igniting every nerve. My body arches involuntarily, a mix of pain and pleasure that makes me groan. This is weirder than that time I tried kale smoothies.
But... damn, it's working?Mid-gulp, I heard footsteps echo from the alley, quick, stumbling. A blonde woman staggers into view, her dress plastered with blood, big breasts heaving like she's run a marathon. She's the one from earlier, the alley hookup, but now she looks wrecked, hair mussed, eyes wild, and that dress? Soaked red, like she's been finger-painting with ketchup. Or, y'know, actual blood.
"Alicia? What the hell are you doing?"