Josh looked at Eric, then back at me before he dropped my hands and stepped away. "Of course, Eric." Before I could contribute anything to the decision, he'd turned and streaked away, into the crowd, as fast as inhumanly possible, though he looked back at me, surprised. I guess chivalry isn't top priority to vampires. Eric paid no attention, kept his focus on me and held his arm out, waiting for me to take it.
"Shall we?"
I felt the burn of being watched and looked around the room; humans were not so subtly glancing at Eric and I, looking away, then peering back, a dance that kept them from staring outright, but their attempt at being furtive was a failure. They were obviously paying attention to what was going on. The vampires were openly staring, made no attempt to shield their interest. I think they waited for a confrontation, for blood to be spilt. From the level of respect paid to Eric by Josh, I understood that he was very powerful, someone to be feared. If I denied him this dance, his authority would be undermined by me, a human, the equivalent of a flea in the vampire world. I was sure I would live to regret the consequences of doing so, but I hated that my being human cast me as a second-class citizen. Grudgingly, I let him come closer, let his body envelop mine so our bodies almost touched, though, thankfully, the only contact we had was hand-to-hand. My eyes shut and I took a deep breath of air that tasted like cigarette smoke and his aftershave. I knew it would cling to me, stay on my clothes so even when I left his presence, he would stay with me, just on the periphery of my olfactory glands. His hand dropped mine, went to my waist and we glided to a slower tempo instrumental song that had come on; its melody was haunting, filled with the heart of violins and the soul of cellos. I smoothed the collar of his dark blue button-down and stood taller so I could whisper to him; to anyone looking, we were enjoying an intimate dance, and I was spilling sweet--or dirty--nothings into his ear.
"I'll keep up appearances, but know that I don't touch you willingly." My lips barely parted, and I couldn't hear my words, but he did.
"Ooh," he said, leading me in a simple step that kept time to the music. "Tough words for a little girl who was crying her eyes out an hour ago." He lifted my arm over my head and I spun under it, digging my nails into his hand in the process before stepping back into our starting position. Ice bloomed in my veins, formed a shield, something I'd built up over the years, had to have to save face at school and my job. I'd had a weak moment, broken down in front of him--but it was because he took my control away, something that had never abandoned--or been taken from--me before, even at the hotel. The vampires there were on my turf and fed publicly, allowing me to be in charge of every aspect of the transaction. But Eric had stripped me of my sovereignty, my agency and transformed me into a pawn. I hadn't reacted well, and I was embarrassed that he had seen, but I couldn't take it back. I could have challenged him, taken his words and turned them around to the nights he'd spent with me, spoken to me and touched me gently, taken flight with me so we kissed among the stars, the wind moving around us, keeping us weightless. But to mention that now would be overplaying my hand; I had to figure out why he'd acted that way, then strike the nerve beneath it. I would bide my time, wait for the right moment.
"You're right," I said, reaching up with my gaze so I stared directly into his eyes. "I had a moment of weakness. But I'll get through this. You, on the other hand, wouldn't last a month."
"And why's that?" We circled around the floor, but the other dancers gave us a wide breadth. Eric didn't seem to be having a hard time dancing and speaking, but I was counting the steps, unwilling to trip or make a mistake in front of all the witnesses, human and vampire alike, who were still staring.
"You're too proud to keep your head down, to lay low. You'd be that wild animal that throws itself against the bars of its cage until it's dead, or broken."
"Better dead than subservient." He pressed me in, up, then backed up so we were at arms length.
"Better alive than undead." I smiled widely, bending back smoothly into the dip he'd lowered me into.
"You enjoy being food?" I came back up, my hair falling forward past my shoulders in front of me. I was inches from his face.
"I did what I had to do. And if I'm so insignificant, just a heartbeat and blood, why are you playing with me?"
"I'm getting some use out of you." My mouth snapped shut, teeth clicked and ground against each other. His lips moved, he said something, but the words eluded me because of the music. He must have said Pam's name, though, because she arrived at his side as if out of nowhere. She'd changed, put on a red corset and black skin-tight leather pants.
"Yes?" she asked, looking bored with her hand on her hip and one leg jutted out in front of the other, the image of a goth supermodel.
"Take over for me. I'll be escorting Elliot home."
"Have fun." Pam said, talking to me. She winked and proved that the gesture could be made lascivious. I just shook my head and started toward the back entrance of the bar but was stopped by Eric, who directed me toward the front door. I went ahead of him, weaved through a crowd of people trying to forget themselves on the dance floor and didn't look back until I pushed the door open, leaving the noise and bustle behind me. The parking lot was illuminated by bright headlights attached to a car parked beside the building; they obscured everything, leaving me blind in their almost blue-tinted light. Eric came out and nodded at me to follow him to the lit car. When I walked out of the illumination's range, I saw that it was a cherry-red Corvette, a car after my own heart.
I misjudged the height of the seats when Eric unlocked the car; I sat, expecting the cushion to be higher than it was, lost my balance and fell unceremoniously onto my ass inside the vehicle. Eric glanced at me, amused, but I just turned my head, pressed myself against the door and window. Childish? Yes. But I figured if he was allowed to behave badly, I should be able to as well.
"Here," Eric said, and I felt something light land in my lap. I looked down, strained my eyes in the dark, at what appeared to be a strip of cloth. When I ran my hands over it, found an elastic that connected the long bit of fabric, turned it into a circle, I realized what it was.
"Put it on."
"You're kidding me." The response had no fight; I was in disbelief. He couldn't be serious.
"I can't trust you yet not to lead threats back to my home during the day." He looked pointedly at the blindfold I held, turned the car on let the engine idle while he stared at me, waiting for my compliance. I gave up, yanked my hair out of the way and secured it into place, letting out a huff of air before crossing my arms and legs, closing off every aspect of my body to him. I heard him shift the car into drive and pull up to what I assumed was the end of the lot; music came on, high-pitched voices murmuring and chanting in a language so foreign the words themselves sounded like music. He took a left, and I concentrated on his navigation. I figured that most songs were around three-and-a-half minutes, so his music would tell me how long we'd driven. All I had to do was memorize the turns. Two songs in, he took a right, then a left about thirty seconds after that. He went straight the rest of the way, the length of four more songs. So the entire trip lasted about twenty minutes. I hoped I would be able to remember it. When we stopped, he told me I could take the blindfold off; I tugged it down so it wound around my neck, the parody of a necklace. The house all but took my breath away; it was huge, the rolling mansion you imagine the south to be famous for. When I got out, I toed loose gravel, the kind that enunciates your step no matter how lightly you walk.
"There's no food in the house for you," Eric said from behind me. I'd already made my way to the house, drawn to its old elegance. "My maid will pick some up for you if you leave a list."
"Fine," I said, waiting for him on the porch. He came up beside me, unlocked the door to a castle, a home I'd only ever dreamed of. Though I guess anyone would be rich after having had over 1,000 years to accumulate wealth. Old money. I almost laughed out loud. He ushered me inside and I was surprised at the simplicity of the decoration; everything in the house, the dark varnished wood, marble staircase, antique statues and furniture, screamed expensive, but nothing was over the top, as Fangtasia had been with its dichromatic design of red and black. The ceilings were high, and the foyer was as big as my apartment. I kept an unenthused air, though. I wouldn't give Eric anything, not even the knowledge that I though his place was beautiful.
"Come," he said, striding down a straight hallway that led from the front room into a high-ceilinged central area. The house was set up so the main room on each floor (how many that was, I didn't know) was a sort of atrium, encircled by smaller open rooms. The walls were fitted with dark-stained wooden shelves, filled with books, thousands of them, stacked neatly.
"Sit," Eric said, without looking back, before continuing on down a hall to the left of me.
I did, on a blue couch with gold detailing, but forgot myself and went to examine his library up close. I ran my fingers over the spines, picked out Gogol, Hemingway, Kerouac, and many others I'd never heard of. The majority looked like they were first editions.
"I thought I told you to sit." Eric appeared next to me, and I jumped.
"You did," I replied, after my heart remembered to beat again. I left him, went back to couch, and he sat opposite, in an overstuffed chair that had intricate braided carvings on its wooden legs.
"So, what did you think of my bar?"
"I thought it was pathetic." I wasn't going to lie to preserve his feelings. They would have had to exist for me to do so, anyway. "The saddest dregs of humanity come into a public place where they can gawk at vampires relatively safely, and get ripped off by over-expensive drinks and souvenirs. The vampires are just putting on a show and degrading themselves for the oh-so-inferior humans." Eric didn't say anything, so I kept going. "Which, by the way is called hypocrisy. Humans make you your money, and you feed, as has been experienced, from the willing. So as much as you disdain the race, you're dependent upon us."
"Now," He dug his heels into the carpet, lifted his hips and adjusted his pants before looking back at me. "Tell me how you really feel." I didn't reply. I was tired of being on my toes, of having to be hyper alert to keep up with him, of maintaining an unperturbed façade.
"If that's all," I said, standing, "I'd like to go to bed now."
"Go down the hall," he nodded at the one he'd walked through before, "the room is the second on the left."
I walked away without another word, followed his directions and found it easily. I opened the door the dark room, groped my hand up and down the wall until the light switch revealed itself to me and I flicked it on. A chandelier, dripping with crystal gave a soft glow that warmed the peach painted walls. Somehow, I didn't think Eric would have any pastels in his color palette. I shut the door softly behind me and went to the four poster bed that had white curtains on each side, a privacy I would be taking advantage of. A couch sat to the right of the bed, a delicate antique with silk upholstery and white wooden feet. A mirror, attached to a desk was at the other room, next to a door I assumed led to a bathroom. I laid back, spread my arms and fell asleep a few minutes later, fully clothed, with the lights on.
***
Someone stroked my arm, gently, tracing down from the inside of the elbow to my wrist.
"Mom?" I murmured, still mostly asleep.
"I don't think so," replied a voice, one I didn't know. My reflexes reacted and I sat up, fast, jerked my arm away and almost knocked the woman who'd been touching me off balance. I was awake instantly, caught her arm to steady her full hands; she carried a tray, and by smell I knew there was coffee present.
"Sorry, sorry," I said, holding my hands up in a peace offering. She rolled her eyes, but smiled good-naturedly.
"It's ok. I tried calling your name, but you were sleeping like the dead." She set the tray down on a small bedside table I hadn't noticed and held her hand out.
"I'm Claire. I work for Eric." I took her hand.
"Elliot," I said. "But I guess you already knew that." She smiled, but there was something like regret behind her eyes.
"Yeah, Eric filled me in." She ran a hand through her hair, a light blonde that was either natural or very expertly done, let it stop at her neck and left it there, a sign that she was uncomfortable. I looked at the tray, saw coffee and fruit that looked so fresh I began to salivate.
"Thanks for breakfast," I said, "I don't know how long I'm going to have to stay in Eric's house, but as long as I'm here, I can cook for myself. You don't have to go out of your way for me."
"Ok," appreciation filling her voice. "I went shopping this morning, so you should be fine for now." She jerked her head up, hit her hand to her forehead. "Which reminds me, Eric gave you a to-do list for Fangtasia. Your car is here, but Eric has sent for a driver who'll will be picking you up in about an hour and a half."
I didn't bother arguing; she couldn't change what he had ordered. She seemed like a nice woman, sorry for my situation, but she gave no indication that her loyalty to Eric would waver. She left the typed instructions from Eric and started to leave.
"Claire?"
"Yeah?" She turned back.
"Are there any extra toiletries, or clothes? I really need to freshen up." Claire nodded, knowingly, and pointed to a bag by the door that hadn't been there last night.
"Eric said you'd find what you needed in there." she said, and left the room.
Great. Now I was Eric's dress-up doll. I opened the bag, hesitantly, expecting a monstrosity of tight pleather, but instead pulled out black slacks and a blazer, both expensively cut. The shirt that went under the jacket was sleeveless, a feminine play on a man's tuxedo shirt. All in all, the outfit was something I might have picked for myself. The bag also contained razors, deodorant and a brush; I put it all back and headed to the bathroom.
***
Forty minutes later, I wandered into the main hall of the house; sometime during the night, it had acquired an assortment of boxes that were neatly labeled--in my handwriting. There was no trace of Claire. I trailed my fingers over the first box--bedroom--but didn't open it; I didn't have time to unpack anything, and since this wasn't a permanent arrangement, why bother. Instead, I sat on the cardboard and picked at my cuticles, bored. I had gotten ready too quickly, and now I had fifty or so minutes to kill. I stared blankly into space when something Claire had said made me sit up straight, then get off the box entirely. Your car is here. There were two windows on either side of the foyer door, and I peeped through one of them into the driveway.
Jackpot.
I unzipped my purse, where I'd stuffed Eric's instructions, and fished out my cell phone. My GPS enabled cell phone. With the phone on silent, I typed in my destination and held my breath while the device found the corresponding satellite. When the words 'successfully connected' lit up the screen, I opened the door, taking it inch by inch, until I could squeeze through. My car was parked close, about twenty feet away, a distance I crossed on my tip-toes. The driver's side window was open, and my hunch was proven correct when I saw my keys dangling from the ignition. I didn't bother being too quiet after that because I was in the car a moment later, slamming the accelerator down so the car jumped to life immediately, leaving a trail of dust to waft through the air in my wake.