-4-
Jaime had been in the shower for at least thirty minutes and I was beginning to think that she had no intention of ever coming out.
Sammy had met us at the elevator and quickly escorted us inside of the King's apartment before anyone had a chance to get a proper look at us. Even with the aid of the baby-wipes, there were still clotted clumps of blood hanging off Jaime, on her neck and in her hair; she was being a little paranoid that people would notice and all of a sudden know what she had done. Seeing Sammy waiting for us had done a remarkable job of calming her down, a friendly face in the chaos of the night.
Sammy hadn't said anything at all. She's just squeezed Jaime's hand reassuringly, leaving me completely out of the loop and wondering just when they'd become such good friends. Apparently killing me many times brought people together.
The tv mounted high in the elevator was showing the news and once again there was Jaime's "missing person" story over the shoulder of the news anchor. They had somehow tracked down Jaime's date from that night (I was right about his name being Chadl) and were interviewing him, but the volume was on mute and my lip reading skills suck. When they cut away to a live shot of a very familiar beat of a towncar surrounded by lots of cops and with the subtitle of "Gang Violence on Highway 7", I glanced over at Jaime to see if she was seeing it.
Sammy must have heard me inhale or something.
"Not a word from you Bob. Not a word."
The elevator had deposited us directly into the foyer of the huge penthouse apartment that the King had designed specifically to look like a mansion. I had been there once before but that had been a year before with a whole group of musicians and the crew of the reality-tv show who had been following the King around at that point. I just hadn't remembered it being this big before...
"You. Stay. Right there," Sammy had commanded me, and had escorted Jaime off down the corridor.
I stood uncomfortably in the foyer and considered just ducking out, if only to avoid the wrath of Sammy, but I was determined not to let her push me around. Plus I was hungry and the King always had good food on hand. The last time he's gotten one of his buddies Chef Paul to cook for us and I still drool every time I think of what that man did with a bottle of rum, some fresh herbs and some great cuts of meat. Unfortunately the Rum Chef didn't seem to be around tonight, just Sammy and her temper, coming back for me.
I think she might have been a little bit pissed off at me.
You know how I know how pissed off she was?
Sammy didn't say a word. She came back and planted herself in front of me and just looked at me, her eyes merely slits in her face. I said nothing back, merely shifting uncomfortably, waiting for her to break, for her to say something, anything. I broke first. Of course.
"Why aren't you saying anything?"
"I'm trying to set you on fire. With my mind."
"It's not working. I don't even feel warm."
"In my imagination you're on fire. There's a lot of screaming going on."
"Oh."
"I should have brought marshmallows. By the way, you scream like a little bitch."
"It wasn't my fault--"
Sammy laughed humourlessly. "Of course it wasn't your fault Bob. It never is! I don't even know what happened, and I really don't want to know, but without even asking, I already know it wasn't your fault, and I know who got fucked over by it. Oh, heres a hint: not you."
Sammy stormed off into the penthouse and I had no choice but to follow, if only to defend my honour. She stalked into the kitchen and I opted not to follow her all the way in. I was going to keep the centre island with it's row of six burners and flattop grill between us for random acts of violence that were no doubt coming my way.
I rallied, more than a little insulted at the presumption that I hadn't been hurt or affected in anyway by what was going on. That wasn't fair and Sammy knew it, but she played dirty whenever she could.
"I died last time! Apparently many, many times. Remember that? Because I sure as hell do." I remembered something and at least had the decency to be embarrassed. "Thanks for coming outside to get me by the way."
"What the fuck are you on about?" Sammy was legitimately confused. "I didn't come for you. That was Jaime and man that girl can kick some serious ass. For someone who doesn't want to be a vampire, she's awfully good at it."
Okay then: I hadn't been expecting that. What the fuck?
"Jaime was the one who came out and got me?"
"I would have, but she was way better at it. The way she laid into those guys you would think she actually cared about you or something." Sammy's brain caught up to her and she turned back to me, incredulous. "Wait, did she tell you it was me? And you believed her? God you're such a dumbass!"
Sammy pulled out a bottle of very expensive looking scotch and tow glasses. She poured me a glass and slid it across the counter to me.
I caught the glass and drank gratefully, noting not for the first time just how white everything was in the penthouse and how at home Sammy was. Everything was all shiny and space age, sleek and modern and very, very expensive. This was the King's place, his palace of record and while it looked very ordinary at least for a millionaire, there were some custom modifications that had been made to turn the place into a very comfortable vampire lair. The huge floor to ceiling windows were covered with adjustable UV gels that blocked out most direct sunlight; you could stand in front of the windows with the sun directly in your face and not burn, that's how badass the windows were. They gave the King the illusion of being normal and he utilized the technology as much as he could, especially since he had to be in the public eye as a result of being a successful rapper. Nothing spelled out that you were a vampire like blacked out windows, and that was the last thing the King wanted to bring attention to.
There was a whole system of metal grates just outside the windows that were designed to be invisible when folded up, but offered an additional layer of protection against the sun (and falling out the window) in the event of a catastrophic emergency. Even if things went to shit, death by sunlight was not going to be an option, not for the King.
***
You all know the King, since you've no doubt seen him on tv at some point of your life. His shiny bald head was iconic on it's own, even more so since he had proclaimed himself the King of Atlanta, Georgia and then legally changed his name to first name "King" title "the". I'd once asked him if anyone called him "The" as a nickname and had regretted the question, so yeah: don't do that. At least he hadn't changed his name to a symbol like he had been tempted to do, but apparently Prince had beat him to it. Wow, will you look at that: Prince and the King. Pity we would never see that concert ever happen.
Don't ask what the King's previous name had been either. He is simply the King, no matter where he goes.
The King was about 6'2"and would have easily passed for a basketball player, not just because he was a tall black man, but because he looked like the perfect athlete who could very easily wipe the floor with any opponents he wanted to. Even with the loud and immaculately tailored suits and the accompanying fur coats, he looked like he could easily shrug the coat off and dunk on you without breaking a sweat. This of course was the vampire in him, but other vampires just didn't have his swagger, they didn't wear their physical superiority like he did... like a king. He had been a vampire for about four hundred years with about three hundred of those years spent in Africa and Asia; he had heard all about what was going on in the Americas and had wanted no part of it. That decision had not been his finest hour, but at the time he had probably known about five other vampires, so to him he was already a species on the verge of extinction.
No, he didn't tell me this. He told it to the entire world. Listen to his lyrics. If you know what you're listening for you can hear a lot about the man.
I was the one who had inadvertently introduced Sammy to the King, something I was very glad for since it gave us someplace safe to hole up for a bit with someone who was much more experienced than I was.
I had taken Sammy to the vampire club, the Hall of the Drunken King, just one time. She'd found out that I had VIP access to one of the hottest clubs in town after I'd left an invitation to the V.I.P. area of the club on the counter at work, and she'd made it her personal mission to make me take her. Her campaign had been relentless, nagging and ultimately successful when I'd finally caved just like she knew I would.
"I'll show you my tits," she had offered and of course that had gotten my attention. We were in the store at the time, surrounded by all kinds of porn and a variety of tits that I didn't have to trade anything for, so this struck me as a little strange.
"When you say your tits, does that mean both of them?"
"Both of them, live preview, right here, right now." Sammy pulled her hand out from behind her back and yes there it was, her black lacy bra dangling from her hand and definitely not on her chest.
"Are you fucking serious Sammy? It's just a club-"
"A club that all of my friends have been dying to get into forever. I'll be the queen of Facebook for a week if I can get in there before any of those silly bitches. So would I be willing to let you see my tits if you'll take me there? Hell yeah."
"You realize I could see tits just like yours in almost any video in this store, right?"
"Yeah, but they wouldn't be my tits," She said coyly and you know what? She was right.
"Okay, you got a deal. How long do I get to look?"
"Ten seconds, no photos, no touching. Don't make this weird, okay?"
"How much weirder can it get? Bring on the tits!"
Sammy had lifted her shirt and it had been a glorious small and perky ten seconds.
And no, it hadn't gotten weird between us. Sammy and I had an understanding you see, a mutual respect based on the fact that I was never going to have sex with her, or she with me. Ever. It made things a hell of a lot easier to be just friends with someone if you weren't trying to figure out ways to get her into bed. We took sex out of the equation and we were able to be better friends for it. So did she look at me a little differently after that? Who knows, but I certainly made a point of not treating her any differently and we were able to go back being assholes to each other. It's a special kind of friendship when you can do that.
"Pervert."
"Asshole."
"Suck my dick." Sammy always grabbed her crotch when she threw that insult out but that time had made me crack up for some reason.
Sammy had ended up being my date two nights later and when the King had walked up to us, completely entranced with Sammy and said, "Hi there sugar tits," which had just sparked up the ten second loop of memory of Sammy's glorious tits and the thought that he was completely right in his description.
That was how Sammy and the King had met and apparently they had sparked up a relationship of sorts that same night. I was mostly in the dark about the details but apparently things had gotten hot and heavy enough for the King to have formed a deep emotional connection to Sammy. Believe me, nobody was as surprised as I was when I found out that they were dating/fucking each other, and now with Beatrice on the loose and Sammy being a potential target, she had moved in somewhat semi-permanently.
***
I ducked as a plastic bottle of water zipped past my nose, missing me with millimetres to spare.
"You're supposed to be in Texas you ASSHOLE! You had one job Bob! ONE JOB!"
"Stop throwing shit at me and let's just talk! You can yell at me without throwing things--"
"But it feels so good to throw things at you," Sammy hissed and chucked an apple directly at my head. That one I grabbed out of the air and took a big bite almost condescendingly. Sammy just glared and eyed the block of knives on the counter rather evilly.
"Why couldn't you just take the car and go? Beatrice would have gone after you and your ex-girlfriend wouldn't be showing up here, practically covered in blood from whatever shit you got her involved with. She's going to need some serious therapy after having to kill you so many times and now it seems you've gone and put her through some additional trauma-- what the actual fuck is going on with you man? The last time I saw her cry like that was when she was killing you."
"I'm just trying to figure things out, okay? None of this is easy and I'm just trying to do the right thing... but it just keeps getting fucked up."
"And what exactly is the right thing here? Do you even know?"
"She wants to not be a vampire and I think I can help her."
"Seriously? Seriously? You're fucking with me right?"
"Look, remember when Harry had me doing some jobs for him a few months back?"
"You mean the secret hush-hush jobs that you couldn't talk about?"
"No, those were with Claude." I paused a moment, wondering just where the hell Claude had gotten to. He was currently out on the town with a six thousand year old vampire and that should have scared the shit out of me, but for some reason I wasn't as freaked out as I knew I had every right to be. "Anyway, I met this hippy-type dude who was like some mystical shaman or some shit. Dude was tripping balls the whole time we were there but he got to talking about how if we'd gotten to him earlier, he could have made us human again."
"Bullshit."
"You don't believe me?"
"I don't believe him and I never even met him. I don't think you even believe it yourself. You're a dumbass, but you're way to smart to fall for that shit."
"But suppose, just suppose this one guy has the secret and nobody's bothered to listen to him because he's so fucked in the head. Suppose this is the one guy who can actually help Jaime... and I ignore it?"
Sammy was already shaking her head.
"She already hates you, so how much worse can it be? If you give her all of this false hope, she might just kill you herself. Have you thought about that? We both know she would take your ass in a fight and she's already killed you a dozen times so she's had plenty of practice.."
I had to grin all of a sudden, the feeling of pride at the memory forcing me to grin, and I just had to share it with Sammy.
"You know... she went toe to toe with Beatrice."
Sammy hadn't expected that one. She must have blinked a dozen times as her brain processed that information.
"Say who what now?" I love surprising Sammy, if only to wipe that smug look off her face. She continued: "Why does she still have all of her body parts?"
"She's good Sammy. I mean like really, really good. It took me a whole year to get to where she is right now as a vampire. She's faster than me, stronger than me... it's scary to think of what she would be in a year's time if she actually stuck with it. I'm more than just a little jealous, but... to be honest, I'm also a little bit scared for her."
"Is this why you haven't called and asked Harry for help yet?"
"That... and the fact that he's ready to murder me because I'm supposed to be Texas by now. You know how he feels about us accidental vampires and now with Jaime... Sammy, she took on twelve vampires Beatrice brought with her and she kicked their asses. She actually won."
I let that sink in for a moment.
"Whatever happens now, I have to get her out of town, away from Harry at least until I can try to turn her back human. This guy I told you might be able to help, but I can't ask Harry how to find him... but the King will know."
Sammy made up her mind and just shook her head. "He's downstairs in the recording studio. Let me go dig him up."
Sammy left me alone in the cavernous expanse of the apartment. I wandered over to the living room window and looked out over the city, impressed as always about how cool the view was. From 42 stories up, any city looks awesome.
I checked my phone, amazed that any shower could take so long, but no, Claude hadn't texted me or emailed. I had half-expected Jaime to sneak up on us during the conversation after a particularly dramatic pause, demanding that I answer some question or the other, but my life had stopped resembling a movie long enough for nothing of the sort to happen.
I missed the days of absolutely nothing happening. No drama, no running and screaming, no dying from me or anyone else... just boredom and maybe some Netflix. It occurred to me suddenly that I was actually officially homeless. Since I had moved in with Claude, I had no official home of record, just a bedroom, a couple of boxes of stuff, two suitcases and assorted backpacks worth of clothing. And the nice suit on my back of course. I could literally walk out the front door and leave and nobody would be able to find me if I didn't want them to.
The urge came to do just that, and I actually looked at the door... there was no shame in running away and surviving another day in another city far away. After all, anyone who knew what I had done would already be left behind. That's kind of the point of running away. I could go anywhere and start over and maybe for once in my life do things right and not so half-assed, and if I handled myself right, not fuck things up completely.
Tempting, but no. That would be too easy.
I turned away from the door and looked out over the city trying to fool myself into believing that I was doing the right thing for the right reasons and not just hoping that somehow, somewhere along the line Jaime might just decide she didn't hate me that much, especially if I could make her human again.
Selfish reasons, yes I know, but I'm trying to be honest here, so shut up and leave me alone, okay?
Jaime emerged from the bathroom before Sammy came back. She was wearing a black t-shirt that was way too small for her, since she and Sammy were different sizes and heights. With guys it's much easier to borrow clothes, but with girls it just gets complicated. Quantum mathematics would have to be involved to figure out the sizing with girls clothing, but they had some kind of system. Don't ask me how she fit into the jeans.
"I'm going to need to stop and get a proper bra before we go anywhere," she said, and of course my eyes went immediately to her chest where her nipples were poking through the too tight t-shirt, the sight of which immediately sent my heart racing and blood flowing directly to my inappropriate boner. I turned away from Jaime and she laughed.
"I just gave you a boner, didn't I?"
I nodded. "Ya kinda did. Can you like cover up or something? Those are very distracting." I pretended to spot something on the streets below. "Oh look! Cars. Very interesting."
"You look fucking awesome," Sammy said as she walked back into the room. "I think you're giving Bob a boner though. Being a vampire really suits you."
Jaime just glanced at me and I shrugged since we'd already had this conversation and I had come out the worst for wear at the end of it. The last thing Jaime wanted from me was a compliment about how fucking awesome she looked as a vampire.
Jaime had always been confident and had great posture, but now there was a slight difference, an edge to how she carried herself and to be honest, it was sexy as hell. There was a vitality about her now, her hair seemed fuller and glossier and she seemed to almost glow with health and a vibrant energy.
"Have you seen my ass?" Jaime said to Sammy, and turned around to display said round and shapely ass. "I swear it's gotten rounder." Sammy was seemingly impressed. I knew I was impressed and so was my goddamn boner which was refusing to go away.
Think about puppies, think about puppies...
"You're like a poster child for becoming a vampire. The King is going to love you a little too much for my liking."
"She doesn't want to be a vampire," I interjected, feeling completely left out of the conversation. Sammy looked from me back to Jaime.
"How could you not? Have you seen your ass?"
"Welcome to la castle de la condo!" the King boomed at us as he entered. Jaime recognized him instantly of course and looked from the King to me, a question on her lips and then she was thinking... and yup there it was, the thought that all of a sudden it made complete sense. Everything she knew about the King and idiosyncracies made sense when you looked at him as being a vampire.
"Oh my God, you're a vampire," Jaime breathed and I wondered if the King was the first real celebrity that she was meeting.
I waved as nonchalantly as I could.
"Hey King, this is my ex-girlfriend Jaime, yes that one, no we're not and please don't look at her ass," I said quickly, trying to cut him off at the pass and I got a little thrill to see him recalculate his approach after a very short pause.
"While her ass is looking very nice, why would I even think to mention it when my girl Sammy is right there?"
Sammy wasn't buying it. She tossed a beer to the King, who snatched it out of the air and twisted it open. Sammy looked at him coyly.
"So if I wasn't here, you'd mention it?"
"Baby-doll, I respect you too much to lie to you, plus you know that's exactly what I'd do, so you're damn straight I would. But I sure as shit won't put my neck on the line with you in the room." He turned his attention and his charm to Jaime. "Hello Jaime, a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Has Bob been talking about me?"
"Only when he's stoned out of his gourd."
"So... every night then?"
The King broke into laughter, a raucous laughter that boomed and echoed around the entire condo. He grinned with approval and clapped me on the shoulder with a hand that was covered in enough gaudy gold rings to power the economy of a small Caribbean country.
"I like this girl Bob. Now what's this nonsense about turning her back into a human? Why would we want to go and waste such a fine looking asset?"
"I don't want it." Jaime said. "This is complete madness and I don't want it."
"What she said."
"Has it ever been done before? Bob says he knows someone, but half the time I know he's lying to me." Jaime shrugged at me. "Don't look so hurt Bob. You can't help yourself."
"Who the hell knows?" the King said. "There are always stories about one thing or the other and us vampires are as superstitious as anybody else. We've seen a lot of things over the years, but sometimes some of the details get lost, usually accidentally. Memory is a tricky thing to begin with and you can convince yourself that something happened differently than it ever had. Go ahead and ask me where I was November third nineteen oh four."
Jaime glanced at me, half-amused.
"Okay, I'll bite. Where were you Novem--"
"I don't have a damn clue where I was. I could try to remember but it's been such a long time and I've been to so many places that I might as well be making it up. What I'll end up telling you is a composite story that took place in seven different countries with people who it was impossible for them to have ever met. I'll tell it well and I'll even be entertaining, and most of all, I'll believe that's how it happened, but none of it will be true... not in the traditional sense of the word anyway. So ask me a question about if it's ever happened, and I'll remember some story that someone told me a long time ago and that will be combined with another experience which will make it even more true for me, but it ultimately won't be the right answer. Unless it was something that was happening all the time, then nobody really knows for sure."
I nudged Jaime reassuringly.
"So what you're saying... is that there is a chance."
The King sighed and chugged the rest of his beer. He thought long and hard, or at least gave the impression of thinking long and hard. For all I know, he'd already made up his mind but needed this bit of theatre before divulging anything. I'm not saying that he was, but I am saying that he's a performer and a very rich one, so he had to be doing something right.
The King didn't let me down. He looked out over the city and then back at me and Jaime.
"You're going to need to see Jesus."
"His name is pronounced 'Hay-sus'. He is Mexican after all. And I know I need to see him. I just don't know where to find him."
The King glared at me. "Yeah I know it's Jesus, but it's more dramatic if I say it that way."
"It's still wrong--"
"Dammit Bob, you're ruining this moment for me." The King paused, squinting at something down on the road. he pulled down his sunglasses. "Hey is that Beatrice down there?"
We all rushed to the window and looked down to street level. Sure enough there was the easily recognizable shape of Beatrice looking right up to the building. And she was waving at us.
###
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