The smell of blood was in the air.
Figuratively, that is. We hadn't gotten that far into our journey, yet.
Despite all the shit I received at work, I was actually starting to enjoy the glances I got from across the boardwalk; everything from the disrobing eyes of every woman that crossed our path, to the smirks and challenges of the boys in drag and this new surf-culture craze. Not that I was going to fight any of them… hopefully.
I was only a shadow, however, compared to Dolly. Everything from the way she moved to the bat of those darkened lashes caused people to trip over themselves and one dude on the railing to spill his drink on the heads of all those below on the beach. I couldn't believe this was the woman that had walked in with such insecurity. But then again.. I hadn't really known her all that well from the beginning.
That too, was starting to change.
Another rule of journalism: the story comes first and personal matters (unless they can not be avoided) come later.
So far we had stomped this notion into the sand as we walked along, talking and forgetting entirely the world around us. The story we were suppose to be working on and the kids that gawked as we passed by.
"No, seriously.." she laughed, hooking an arm around my chest for support. "You just ran, bare ass out into the streets and right into him?"
I grinned and nodded. "Thank god he was homophobic too. All I had to do was smile and he bolted into the house."
She laughed harder. Who would have thought one of my most demeaning stories from the past could be funny? Not to mention, true. I was cleaning pools in Hollywood before I came here. AKA sleeping with a lot of desperate, lonely housewives on prescription medication that they took with shots of Champaign and white wine. Many, many happy times. But unfortunately, the one time I chose to skinny dip with a woman who was, by all accounts, pornographically perfect, her body-building husband came home and to avoid a broken neck, I bolted naked over the fence (forgetting my clothes entirely) and right into the man as he was crossing the yard to check the mail.
Thank god the bastard was uptight, crackweed of a man. All I had to do was glance him up and down, waggle my eyebrows and smile. I was fired… but he wasn't about to punch a naked guy who had sized him up like a pack of delicately sliced lunchmeat.
Who knows, I might have started humping his leg.
Her arm tightened and I smiled. We had agreed before hand that probably the best way to keep each other safe was to act like we were a couple. I had to admit, I was enjoying that part a little more than necessary and couldn't help but feel she almost was too.
Fuck, remember it's just for the story, just for the fucking stor--
"Shit, it's almost twelve."
The laughter had stopped and Dolly had glanced down at her watch, taking in the time and wincing. I winced as well.
"Are you serious?" I asked. "Fuck, we'd better get serious."
She nodded and released my side. Somewhere in heaven, an angel spit on me.
"Look, I know it wasn't in our plan, but maybe we should split up and look on opposite ends of the boardwalk. Pretend we're looking for each other until we find them," she said, giving me a pleading glance.
I didn't like it. Too many things could happen to a woman this beautiful. But as much as it kills my karma to say it, I couldn't let her know just yet, how deeply I was starting to care about her. How fantasies were starting to spring up (literally, mind you) at the most awkward and inviting moments. Call me a chauvinistic bastard, but I've been down that road too many times. In fact, you walk it, you'll probably stumble on the broken pieces of my heart.
"All right, but no more than an hour," I agreed.
She nodded and with a lingering glance, took off in the opposite direction.
My gut was screaming at me, something bad was about to happen. But I turned away and pretended it was the Chinese food we had eaten before coming here.
The wind picked up the moment she set foot on the man portion of the Pier. Kids all ages, sizes and hair-dyes streamed past in a chaotic shamble, laughing and cursing at each other while tourists and parents gawked at them in silent horror. It was everything she had wanted in her own childhood. Everything she had dreamed about as she sat at her desk in a cramped little room, typing up reports for school and listening to the sounds of their happiness flutter by.
She'd always been a good girl; a good student. Someone dedicated to her family because she had no choice until she was eighteen. Even then, they continued to pressure her and push, calling constantly while she was in college and making sure she stayed away from those disco, acid-inducing parties. God forbid if she didn't answer the phone, they would call the RA (Residential Assistant) and demand to know where she was.
It was all her life had ever been, one long stretch of study, memorization and smiling at teachers as she chalked up those A's, one after the other. She was already an honor student her freshman year in college and stayed that way all up until graduation, before the roof fell through.
And it had never felt so good.
Freed from parents (as they refused to talk to her until she went back and finished getting her Masters) and free from societies ideals of what a decent, hard-working woman should be. Either that, or a housewife with five kids and a husband who worked a nine-to-five job.
No, she was a journalist. Or… a journalist in training.
Someone who people often times looked down upon and treated like shit, though who couldn't get enough of if their stories were anything like James'. The man hid his ego well with cynicism, but it was slowly starting to crack as they spent more and more time together.
Another exciting aspect of the job.
Her face blushed, thinking about the man and to hide it, she began to dig around in the snakeskin purse at her side, rummaging for a much needed cigarette. She couldn't quite tell if James was a smoker or not. If he could even tolerate smokers or thought it was sexy for a woman to do so. He had the personality… but it seemed his ego wasn't the only thing hiding behind those deceiving, gray eyes.
The white cylinder was balanced delicately in those lips as fingers tweezed and flicked the lighter, sparking a bright, yellow flame. The people of this town were constantly on the move and even the slightest slowing in pace caused a number of insults and a brief shove that had her stumbling against a large billboard.
A disgusted look was passed to the pretentious preteens with green Mohawks. One of them made a crude gesture and she rolled her eyes. It came with the clothing she wore, so it was no big deal. Instead, she turned her back and took a moment to examine the board she had slammed against in the scuffle.
Instead of an overly large, obnoxious advertisement, it was covered in dozens upon dozens of missing person posters. Men and women, boys and girls of all ages in single, black and white photos stared out at her with hollow eyes. Some of their mouths were parted in the shots… there was a boy of five sitting in a chair, laughing as a puppy licked at his face. His name was Devin.
A young, petite girl lounging on a beach chair with a giggling smile watched Dolly as she moved, blowing smoke over each face and quickly turning away. The name beneath that one was scratched away.
Christ… so much crime in such a little town. And apparently, the police force wasn't doing shit to prevent it either. Then again… if there weren't so much chaos, there probably wouldn't be a magazine. And without this magazine, she would be jobless, homeless and living beneath the pier during the daylight hours before the tide came up and washed away all those who were still sleeping.
The crowds seemed to thin as she reached a more humble area of the boardwalk, lined with shops of various assortments. Restaurants, knick-knacks, t-shirts, movies…
A pause.
It took a moment to see through the neon lit glass, lined with movie posters and memorabilia from the recent hits; but one thing about the pictures of Paul that stood out more than anything else was the kid's hair. It wasn't a perm, that was for sure. Rather, the kid slicked his fingers through it each day and called it good. A wild mess of dirty blonde locks that spanned across his back and along those shoulders. She could have sworn that half of them were dreadlocks.
What was most surprising, however, in the photos he seemed to make it work.
But it was the sight of that same hair that caught her attention, brisling wildly along the kid's back as he paced around the store before leaping up on to a counter and sitting like a kid with his feet dangling over the edge.
Jackpot.
The cigarette was flicked to the ground and after a mild reflection test in the glass, she made her way inside.
Despite being so secretive, James had given a few subtle clues as to good journalism while undercover.
Never let them think that you have even the slightest idea that you know who they are.
The jingle of bells rang as she entered fully into the store, clutching her purse and pushing down the butterflies that fluttered through her chest and stomach. She could already feel eyes upon her, but ignored them entirely as she stepped further into the area.
She hadn't been wrong about the movies. Shelves were lined with tapes. Everything from recent Hollywood fiasco's to the classics that sat further, dustier, in the back. Westerns, Drama, Action, Horror…
"Hello, can I help you find something?"
The voice was soft-spoken, but it caused her to jump, anyway. Silently cursing herself, she turned fully to face the man that stood behind the counter, smiling in that same, gentle manner though passing exasperated looks to Paul who sat, now staring fully at her.
He was older than she expected. The pictures had been blurry and the finer details of his face had been washed away. In his mug shots, he looked about sixteen but apparently, he had aged at least a little in those ten years that passed since the burning. Sharp features were drawn out in pale flesh; high-cheekbones, a somewhat narrow nose and pouting lips. He was the kind of guy who could get any girl he wanted, and from the look in those eyes, he was aware of such, as well.
Had she still been in high school, she might have swooned. As the second man approached, however, she actually did.
Where Paul had a handsome, if not outlandish appeal, this boy was quite literally drop-dead gorgeous. Tall, dark and extraordinarily handsome with showering black locks that fell to his shoulders and a sense of brooding in those darkened eyes. He appeared extremely bored with their surroundings… at least, until he caught a glimpse of Dolly, herself. The smile that found his lips made her want to melt, but at the same time, he too, was barely above that legal age and otherwise off-limits for a woman of her advanced "knowing."
Not to mention… she couldn't help but suddenly think of James.
These boys may be beautiful, but they didn't hold the same charm as her partner. Not to mention the fact that they were quite possibly blood-thirsty vampires.
They were certainly pale enough to fit the title.
Eyes instantly snapped back to the man before her. The only, seemingly normal person in this trio, though he too, was pale.
"I'm sorry," she smiled, shaking her head. "Too much caffeine."
He smiled back. "Ah, I know the feeling. Gotta keep going somehow."
She nodded. "Yea, anyway, I was wondering if you had anything with vampires. I'm looking for a good scare."
All right, a little obvious but at least she had their attention. The blonde's head perked up for the second time since she was in the store and the cash register he'd been fooling with, while the man had his back turned, was seemingly forgotten. The dark-haired kid smiled again.
The man nodded, the smile suddenly gone. "I see. Well, let me go check the back here for anything recent…" a sudden turn towards the two boys behind him. ".. and when I get back, I want you both gone."
The smirk on Paul's face faded slightly and with a roll of those shoulders, he started for the door. "Buzz kill," muttered under his breath.
The dark-haired man didn't respond at all, save for a roll of those dark eyes before they met her own once more. The smile that formed almost made her shudder.
The man turned back and made an airy gesture. "Punks. Can't find anything better to do than harass the locals around here. If you'll give me a minute, I think I can find you a movie."
She nodded, pretending to know exactly what he was talking about. Inside, however, she groaned.
Damnit, their story was slipping away out onto the streets. But to leave now might arouse suspicion and besides, she didn't want to seem desperate. Or a stalker. Either way, she knew James would be pissed if they came up empty handed. This was his story after all… she was merely a tag-a-long.
"Here you go, this one is a little older but it's gotten some very good reviews."
His voice startled her a second time. He was back so quickly that she barely had a moment to blink before coming face to face with those glasses and the small, quirky smile.
A hand came up to that chest. "Sorry.. I'm just really jumpy from the caffeine."
Purse was set up on the counter as she rummaged once again, sifting through the disorganized clutter until she managed to find a dollar and five cents. The man accepted her money with a nod before handing over the movie and nodding.
"There you are. Enjoy."
She was all the way out the door before she managed to look at the title.
Countess Dracula.
Randy bastard.
The movie was shoved into her bag with a sigh. Well, at least they had something to study from now. Cigarettes were reached for again and pulling free a fresh stick, the lighter was scavenged for when suddenly---
Snick.
The yellow flame danced in front of her face, causing her to reel back and stare up at the form standing before her. The dark-haired kid, brooding eyes and all, smiling at her as he held out her lighter, waiting for her to take the bait.
She stepped back. "I should call the cops on you right now."
"Now what fun would that be?" he countered, his voice holding a husky accent that was definitely not found in California.
At his side appeared Paul, smirking as he grazed her with that deafening stare.
"Vampires, huh?" he asked.
"What's it to you?" she took another step back.
He shrugged. "Just seems that a woman like you would be more interested in werewolves, is all."
The comment was so random that she couldn't help but break down into a smile. Leaning forward, the tip of the cigarette would finally meet it's mark and the dark-haired kid smiled.
"Dwayne," he said. "And this is Paul."
She nodded, making them wait until she took a much needed drag. "Dolorus. But my friends call me Dolly."
Smoke was released in a thin stream towards the pair before a dark eyebrow rose.
"Are you going to give me back my lighter?" she asked.
Dwayne grinned and tucked it into his pocket. "Maybe later."