A barrage of images flooded my mind. A field of bodies, soldiers kicking a boy with unruly chestnut curls. A little girl with the same hair, but longer, lying glassy-eyed in her bed, gaping puncture wounds in her throat, body ravaged, face tear-stained. A head rolling. Blood, so much blood; the smell of it coated the inside of my head, inducing a wave of nausea.
I snatched my hand away, willing myself not to scream aloud.
He stared at me evenly. “I am sorry, madam. I did not know you were an empath.”
“Clairsentient,” I said curtly. “And my name is Alegria.”
He was still looking at me oddly, with those lovely eyes; jade green in the centre of each iris, fanning out to caramel at the edges, flecked with light amber.
I forced myself to look away from those eyes.
The bartender set my drink down, quietly. It was very quiet, in fact. No-one in the bar was talking any more.
Joao looked around at the patrons intently. After a few seconds, the customers looked away and continued their conversation.
I nudged the drink away. “Your offer is very generous, but I’m afraid I must decline,” I said, as frostily as self-preservation would allow.
“No, no, please, Alegria. I insist. I distressed you just now. It’s the least I can do. Consider it on the house.”
“You own this place?”
He nodded. “Do you often stroll into bars like this?”
“Vampire bars?”
I instantly regretted it. Why, why didn’t the words go through my brain first, and not straight to my big fat mouth?
He laughed, and the rest of the bar jumped visibly. Good, I wasn’t the only one feeling nervy.
“If you didn’t realize what we are when you walked in, you would be a poor clairsentient indeed.”
I relaxed. A little.
“Thanks- I think.”
“Do you live here?”
“No. My folks are from Brazil. Lived in Thailand for a while.” I didn’t mention the forests of Borneo. That was strictly need-to-know.
“Ah. What brings you here?”
“I’m enrolling in college.”
Then it occurred to me. Perhaps he could help. “Say, you haven’t er- seen any vampires that look like me? Pretty brown eyes, long straight hair, fair-skinned?”
“If I had, I would surely have remembered,” he purred.
Oh, how embarrassing. He was flirting with me. Unless this was dinner game foreplay.
“You have seen nothing yet,” he said quietly.
I froze. He had read my thoughts? Now, that was not on.
“Sir, I am aware of your considerable status and power, but I must ask you not to infringe on my privacy like that. It’s really very rude.”
Again, the tide of conversation in he bar came to a grinding halt. I was entertaining the hell out of the undead tonight.
He became deadly still, and moved close to me before I could blink, so close I could smell his aftershave. Hmnn. Vampires shaved? Weird.
He leaned in close to my throat, tickling my skin with his breath.
I froze, like a little bunny rabbit on a road with a pair of headlights advancing very quickly.
“If I knew your thoughts, it was because your desire made them very, very clear to me. Not because I was, as you say, infringing on your privacy.”
He leaned back and motioned the bartender. “Greg, distilled clear, on ice.”
The bartender bustled off, glasses clinking.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
He grinned, making me nervous again. “You don’t have to be so- edgy, you know. I won’t bite. Not here, anyway.”
I was trying to think of a snappy comeback when we were interrupted by a female vampire. She had an ample bust, barely held in by her corset top. Her denim mini just about covered her ass. I felt like a nun in my white sundress.
“Master,” she said, tracing a perfectly manicured hand up his thigh, “Don’t waste your time with this human whore. She is weak, only useful for food. Let’s take her back to my place and pop a vein or two. You know what a wonderful aphrodisiac human psychic blood is.”
My eyes almost popped out of my head. She was blatantly caressing his crotch now. My blood was a vampire aphrodisiac? Great, just great. I should have never left my damn hotel room. And what was that whore thing about anyway? I wasn’t the one dressed like a hooker. Bitch.
“Bitch,” I said out loud. Oops.
She turned to look at me, very slowly. “What did you say, human?”
I couldn’t take it back. And I certainly couldn’t just let her stand there and insult me. Well, I could, but I wasn’t going to.
©Samantha De Silva 2006
