A Girl's Guide to Vampires

"So… there was more than one body?" I asked Arielle. As soon as the words left my lips, my mind was flooded with the immense satisfaction found in acts of dominance and conquest, the heat of another's body pressed tightly against mine, the scent of her shampoo, the silk of her skin against my mouth, warmth trickling through me, filling the icy regions, quieting the beast that howled within… I snapped my eyes open, coughing and choking to clear my mouth of the horrible substance. Blood.

He was feeding.

It was too much for me. I half stood, clutching the table for support. "I think… I think I…" A red pit opened before me. I clawed at the table to keep from falling into it.

"Joy?"

Roxy was there in an instant, her arms around me, pushing me back into the chair. "Put your head down between your knees. It'll pass in a minute."

I did as she ordered, unable to stop the trembling that racked me. My mind was shrieking, screaming with the need to know what was going on, what was wrong with me, why I was suddenly seeing things I had no desire to see, let alone believe in.

Vampire, whispered the wind. I shook my head vehemently, banging the back of my head against the underside of the table. I clutched at the sensation, welcoming the pain since it was real, not imagined. Real—I desperately needed something real.

"Joyful, you OK?"

I opened my eyes and lifted my head cautiously. Roxy was squatting next to me, applying a cold wet cloth to the back of my neck. "Geez, you scared the crap out of me. Your face went absolutely pale, and your eyes were empty like there was nothing there. Don't ever do that to me again, OK?"

"OK," I agreed, mustering a ghost of a smile.

She hugged me tightly for a moment, whispering, "Don't make me get tough with you, sister," before she pulled back.

I gave a shaky little laugh at her order as I sat up slowly. Arielle stood on my other side holding out a glass of water, the bartender next to her speaking rapidly in Czech. I swallowed a bit of the water and in German assured the man I was just fine.

"Delayed jet lag," Roxy told him. "Jet lag Delayed Looong time," she repeated louder in that weird pidgin form of English so many Americans abroad adopt.

"He's Czech, Rox, not deaf," I pointed out, wiping my face with the wet cloth before handing it back to the bartender. I sipped a bit more water while everyone drifted back to where they were sitting, just as if nothing earth-shattering had happened. I rubbed my forehead and wondered why my mind had chosen that moment to snap, and what I was going to do about piecing it back together. What I needed was some time to myself with a big gallon jug of brain super glue.

"I think you should go lie down rather than go to the GothFaire," Roxy pronounced, evidently reading what remained of my mind. "You look like death warmed over."

"Thanks a lot." I struggled to block out the feeling of danger that surged within me until it howled like the wind in a storm. I gritted my teeth as Roxy chatted on, unwilling to give in to the sensation, clutching the arms of the chair in an attempt to focus on what was real, not what my mind was generating. The wood, that was real. It was hard and smooth from years of polishing, the intricate scroll carving on the arms was deep, the edges blunted with use. I fought to control my breathing, denying the need to pant as the blackness drew closer.

He is coming, a voice whispered in my head.

There is no one! I yelled back at it. I wondered if somehow Tanya hadn't slipped me one of her hallucinogenic drugs. Maybe she put it in my beer before I came, intending on pulling a little prank. If so, I didn't appreciate it, but at least it served to comfort me in an odd way. If I was suffering the effects of a drug, I wasn't going insane. Or worse.

I grabbed at the water glass and choked back a swallow, unable to hear the conversation around me for the howling of the wind. I was surprised no one else commented on it, but a slow glance around the room confirmed that everything was normal. People chatted, laughed, smoked, and drank just as if they weren't caught in the middle of hurricane-force winds. A pleasant-faced dark-haired man in a suede coat walked through the door, pausing to greet the bartender and several of the men clumped together before accepting a glass of wine and joining a lively group. A barmaid wandered through the crowd with a tray of beers. Someone brought out a pack of cards. It was all utterly normal.

The wind rose to an unbearable volume, shrieking and screaming out words of torment and pain, but just when I thought I was going to scream myself, just when the red pit opened up before me again, all was suddenly quiet.

He had come.

"Joy? Did you hear what Arielle said? Their rune reader up and quit last week."