The dance floor has a pulse. Bodies move in time and out of time all at once, each being lost in their own rhythm. Limbs rise and fall like waves. The smell of copper and sweat stings her nostrils. Her mouth waters, guts swirl and twist with hunger. Marko feels it too. His hand rests on the small of Sofie's back as they make their way through the crowd to the bar. She can feel eyes on her. Men turn their heads when she inches past them. It's embarrassing. Uncomfortable. Suddenly the outfit she's picked out feels too much like a second skin. She becomes aware of just how exposed she is. Every time she takes a step, she fights the urge to pull her dress lower and lower down her thighs. Her hands go to pull her jacket tight around her waist when Marko leans in to whisper in her ear.
"Don't cover up. You can get us a good meal looking like that."
Reluctantly, she releases her jacket and draws in a deep breath. From across the bar, she sees Matt serving drinks and screams his name over the music to get his attention. His head snaps up and his eyes almost bug out of his skull as they approach.
"Uhhh, wow, Sof. You look..."
"Be nice," she warns.
"I've just never seen you dressed like this before," he laughs. "It's a little shocking."
"Yeah," she laughs awkwardly, pulling her dress down as she climbs onto a bar stool. "It was laundry day."
"What are you doing here?"
"We just wanted to dance."
"And drink for free?"
"Ah, you know me so well, Matty," she teases, reaching over to bop him on the nose.
She orders two whiskeys. Tim insists they're on the house, but Sofie slides him a twenty.
"Summer bonus," she quips. Tim looks down and she pushes it a little farther across the bar. "Go on, take it!"
"Are those a thing?" Tim asks, one eyebrow raised in suspicion.
"They are now."
Tim smiles.
"Thanks, Sof."
She hands Marko his glass and watches as he turns toward the crowd, leaning back against the bar top. Matt and Tim talk about baseball or football or some dumb sport she never bothered to get invested in. Matt tried to get her to watch the Super Bowl once, but she fell asleep about half an hour in. Sofie glances over at Marko, his eyes are following the crowd looking for a straggler, a sign of weakness. She reaches over and brushes a hand across his exposed stomach. Marko sighs and leans into her touch.
"You good?"
"Hungry," he murmurs as he sips at his drink. "You wore me out earlier."
Sofie lets out an incredulous laugh.
"I wore you out?"
Marko tosses his drink back and leans over to graze her earlobe with his teeth. She shivers.
"Wanna dance, beautiful?"
Sofie drains her glass and flashes him a flirtatious grin.
"With you? Always."
He takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor. They're swallowed up by the crowd, pulsing and writhing with them. Sofie wraps her arms around Marko's neck, feeling him pressed against her. No one else exists except the two of them. His lips dive for her neck as they move in time with the music. She feels his hands glide up her thighs, underneath her dress. His voice rings through her head.
I want to hunt.
I can tell. You've been handsy all night.
Marko purrs in her ear and flicks his tongue across her jugular. Sofie lets out a small, satisfied groan.
"I see someone," he whispers. "Behind you."
She turns to see a young, petite blonde girl with her eyes locked on Marko's. They flick from his to the bathroom and back again. Marko grins and looks at Sofie.
"Can I?" He breathes.
Sofie feels jealousy creep into her chest. It's still difficult for her to discern between his bloodlust and his - well, regular lust. There are times when she fears he'll grow bored of her. They haven't been together for that long despite the fact that it feels like they've known each other for lifetimes. Still, the remnants of her human anxiety are determined to hang on. It's difficult to fight the feeling. Marko brushes her cheek.
"I'm yours and you're mine," he whispers, clearly catching wind of her emotions. "Forever."
She grins.
"I'll get us a drink."
Sofie slinks away from him and swims through the crowd toward the bar while Marko heads toward the girl. She orders two more whiskeys. Dwayne slides into the seat next to her and an unexpected wave of relief washes over her. His presence is always comforting, and she's never been able to pin down exactly why. He feels like a father figure to her - a space that's always been missing in her life.
"Hey, kiddo," he says softly. "You good?"
She nods.
"You want Marko's whiskey?" She laughs. "He's occupied."
"With who?"
"Some girl making eyes at him on the dance floor."
Dwayne looks over his shoulder and Sofie follows his gaze, unable to resist the temptation to indulge her own jealousy. Marko and the girl are dancing. His eyes are focused on her throat while she keeps trying to kiss him. He pulls away and leads her into the bathroom. Dwayne scoffs.
"Kid's got brass balls doing this in a bar." He grabs Marko's glass and takes a sip. "You okay with that?"
"Sort of," she laughs. "Sometimes my humanity gets the better of me."
"She's just a human."
Sofie scoffs.
"So was I."
Dwayne wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her close.
"Sofie, he is crazy about you. You'd be a fool not to see that. She's a meal; you're his mate. There's a big difference."
"What does that even mean? What if he gets bored of me?" She asks, unable to help the tears from welling in her eyes. "Trades me in for a shiny new model."
"Sofie..."
"Am I wrong?"
"Yes!" he laughs incredulously.
"That's what my dad did," she grumbles.
Dwayne senses the loss in her and takes her small hands in his.
"You haven't been around long enough to understand how complex this stuff is," he offers. "And that's not your fault, but you're basing this on human relationships. They have short lifespans and shallow emotions. They act on impulse and hormones. I can tell you exactly what's going to happen in that bathroom. He's going to feed, clean up, come back out here, and want to take you home to... well, you know."
She laughs softly and leans into her brother. He kisses the top of her head.
"Thanks, Dwayne."
"Any time."
They finish their drinks and Sofie orders another. Halfway through their second round, she feels Marko's arms around her waist. He nips at her earlobe.
"Hi," he growls into her ear.
"Hi," she whispers.
"You wanna get out of here?"
Sofie collapses into a fit of drunken giggles and looks at Dwayne who snickers. Marko doesn't even notice. He's practically drunk he's fed so much.
"What'd I tell you, princess?" Dwayne teases. He drains his glass, climbs off of his bar stool, and pats Marko on the back. Marko sucks a dark hickey onto her neck. The bar is so busy that Matt and Tim don't notice. Patrons scream their orders while Sofie and Marko make their way toward the back office and out the staff room door. When they get outside, Marko's mouth covers hers. She tastes copper on his tongue and moans as he slams her against the wall.
"Someone could come out here," she grunts as his hands snake under her dress and dance across the lace of her underwear. She gasps.
"I don't give a shit."
"Take me home," she breathes.
"You don't want me here?" He says with a mock pout. She grins.
"I want you to tie me up."
His eyes go wide. He grabs her hand and yanks her toward his bike. Sofie giggles as they climb on and speed off toward the cave.
+++
Star awakens with a jolt, covered in sweat. Her stomach has wound itself into an agonizing knot. Her throat feels like she gargled with broken glass. Hands shake like leaves and her skin is dull and grey. Beside her, David stirs.
"What is it?" He grumbles.
"It hurts," she moans, gripping at her belly. "It's like fire. My throat..."
She coughs and gasps for air. Her lungs are beginning to seize up. She's only felt this one time when she got a cramp in her ribs during a track meet in high school. Only this is a thousand times worse. David grunts in response and sits up, lighting a cigarette. He takes a deep inhale and passes it to Star. She shakes her head, staring at the cigarette like it offends her sensibilities. Her heart is racing and a wave of nausea washes over her. It feels like she's coming down off of something.
"It's the thirst," he says softly. He holds out his wrist. Star bites into it without a second thought. The moment the blood touches her tongue, she lets out a strange, guttural groan. David smokes and watches her, occasionally brushing her hair away from her face and running his fingers through it. He lifts her head gently when she's had too much. She looks drunk. David pulls her toward him and licks the blood off of her lips and chin before pulling her into a passionate kiss. The ache in Star's belly has dulled and she matches his ferocity. When he pulls away, he tilts his head, icy eyes boring into hers.
"You're going to have to make your first kill soon."
It's the way he says it. Removed and cold, as though it were just a fact instead of cold-blooded murder. Tears sting her eyes. David's expression is blank. He's tired of this, of her humanity. He's tired of the sadness that she carries around her neck like an albatross.
"I can't."
"You don't have a choice, doll."
"I..."
"Do you want to die?"
Her eyes go wide. She searches David's face with desperation. He must be joking. She's met with an emptiness that she feels in the pit of her stomach. She takes a deep breath.
"Of course I don't."
"Then you're going to have to make your first kill sooner rather than later. I can only feed you for so long before you start to go feral."
"Feral?"
"The longer you try to resist, the more likely it is that you'll hurt someone you love, hurt one of us, or try to grab someone at the wrong place or the wrong time. Eventually, the thirst will overpower everything in you - all logic, your ability to reason... it takes everything from you if you let it."
"What happens after that?"
"You starve to death. Slowly, over years. The pain is unimaginable." He stands and dresses, slipping a t-shirt over his shoulders and climbing into his worn leather pants. "We usually put people out of their misery before it gets to that point."
Tears slip down her cheeks. She didn't want this; never asked for this. Rage bubbles in her chest. She hates him for doing this to her, for burdening her with this impossible and immeasurable task that the rest of the group takes on so easily. Part of her envies their detachment. If she could pull out her empathy like a puzzle piece and crush it beneath her feet, she would do it. Just to make this easier. She wants a family, a real chance at a connection. Right now, her only option is to embrace this darkness or die fighting it. She doesn't want either.
"I'm not like the rest of you. I'm not a killer," Star whispers.
"Don't think of it as killing," David says, flicking his cigarette onto the floor. "Don't think about it at all."
"How can I not?"
"It's survival."
"Sure," Star laughs. "Survival."
He's fading away from her, eyes icy and unforgiving.
"You have two options, Star. I suggest you pick the one that's right in front of you."
He slides his boots onto his feet, turns, and leaves her to embrace her own emptiness and uncertainty.