I don’t like lying to them, but it’s for the best. Gina is my mess. My problem. One that I will solve tonight.
Sitting in my study, a room that I barely use except to help Felix tinker with his small robots, I lick the last letter closed, write Callie’s name on the front, and place it with the others. Six envelopes lie evenly before me on the dark wood desk. There’s one for each of the guys, one for my parents, and one for Callie. The letters all say the same general thing with their own personal touches. I tell them I love them, that I was lucky to know them, and that there was nothing they could have done to stop me. I admit that I’m dying. I can feel it as each day passes. My body withers and weakens as my hunger grows stronger. The predator inside me claws and tears at what is left of the person I know as me. There’s no coming back, but if I’m going to die, I’m taking that bitch with me.
I look around the room, taking in all the touches that are my life. At the bookshelves filled with whatever scraps of knowledge I could find about vampires, recalling all the time I spent with Kaleb deciphering what was real and what was human fantasy. At Connor’s drawings of classic cars hanging on the wall, so realistic they could be mistaken for photographs. At Felix’s robot in the corner, a mini prototype for a mower that doesn’t require a person to operate… or it will be if he ever gets it to work. At the knife that rests on a far shelf. It’s the one Donovan gave me for my birthday and is still in its gifted box with “kindness” carved into the lid. Finally, my gaze lands on a small framed photo of Callie and me, tired and sweaty in workout clothes, smiling at the camera. All these pieces of me are sheltered within a home my parents filled with love.
Despite everything, my life was pretty good. Short, but good.
After saying my last silent goodbyes, I exhale a deep breath and let the monster inside take over. By this point, it’s a relief to let go of my better nature. No longer fighting what I am, my head feels clear for what feels like the first time in years. I only have one purpose, a single prey that I will devour whole.
Getting up from my chair, I make my way up the stairs to my bedroom. There’s a party starting soon at Jeremy Mayer’s place—a decently well-off soccer player whose parents are currently vacationing in Palm Springs. I also happen to know that Gina and her Barbie minions will be there. Crowded and unsupervised, it’s a perfect place to lay a trap.
But first I must tend to the bait.
I start with a shower, washing away all remnants of the boy who can laugh and love, and then I dry myself carefully, taking stock of what remains. Treating my body like a piece of art that’s missing its final touches, I start from the top down. I shave so that there’s nothing distracting from the sharp lines of my face, all softness melted away from the curse that consumes me, and style my platinum blond hair with expensive products so that it has volume and is soft to the touch. Black eyeliner and mascara accent the brilliant blue of my eyes, giving me an androgynous edge that only highlights my masculine qualities. I apply lotions to make my skin soft to the touch, and cologne to compliment my natural musk.
Walking naked from the bathroom, I stroll into my closet. My fingers test each of my garments, perusing their texture and weight, deciding what pieces will hang from my body in the most alluring manner.
“You will do,” I announce to a black, Sea Island cotton button-down. “Silky to the touch and will breathe in a crowd.”
I pair it with matching black wool trousers, a leather belt, and dress shoes. It’s too much for a high school party, but perfect if you’re attempting to look like a dark fantasy come to life. I don’t expect it to go this far, but I’m ready to do what I must to end this once and for all, so I choose a black, short boxer brief that barely does the job of keeping my dick covered.
Fully dressed, I keep a few buttons of my shirt undone to expose my chest that, at this point, looks more like polished marble than flesh. When I roll the long sleeves up my forearms, I notice that I’m still wearing Callie’s bracelet. I’ve worn this every day since she gave it to me. For a moment, I’m paralyzed, fear and aching pain seizing my heart, and I question what I’m doing, but it’s only for a moment, as I become light-headed and dizzy—one of many symptoms, along with weight loss, nausea, splitting migraines, and occasionally coughing up more blood. The last one has been harder to hide, but thankfully, Donovan doesn’t usually linger much these days, needing to snatch his own time with Callie before Connor or Felix claim it.
Once the dizziness passes, I take the bracelet off, kiss it, and place it on top of my dresser. “I’m sorry, my love. I can’t take you with me where I’m going.”
The bait is prepared. Now it’s time to set the trap.
∞∞∞
“Hello, beautiful,” I croon to my 1965 Shelby Cobra. “If this is my last day on earth, how about we go out in style?”
I drop the two bottles of top-shelf vodka along with prescription-grade sleeping pills into the passenger seat. I might as well go out on my own terms and not waste away from what that bitch did to me.
Gliding my hand along her ticket red curves, I relish the artistry of this classic vehicle as I make my way to the driver’s side. “It’s a top up night, unfortunately. Can’t mess up the hair quite yet. Later, we’ll take a drive to look at the stars before I go.”
Once I’m in the driver’s seat and I start the car, I close my eyes for a moment to enjoy the deep rumble of her engine without distraction. Her purr vibrates throughout my body, making me feel like we are one. I brush my hand along the dashboard and promise, “Don’t worry. Con will take good care of you when I’m gone.”
After exhaling a long sigh, I open my eyes, click the button for the garage door, and shift into reverse. I idle in the driveway, gazing toward the far end of the house where my parents sleep soundly, unaware of the news that will greet them in the morning.
“I’m sorry you have such bad luck with kids,” I apologize with only the night as my witness. “You’re good parents. Maybe your third try will be the charm.”
Enough goodbyes. Time to take that bitch down.
Filled with lethal determination, I throw the Shelby into gear and drive like it’s my last day on earth. It’s a perfect night for a drive, clear skies and empty back roads to really let her loose. She hugs each twist and turn and gives a throaty cry as we speed down straightaways. It’s somewhat disappointing when I arrive at the party, so I promise myself one last exciting drive before I kick it. It’s important that I leave nothing that could come back as unfinished business. I don’t want to linger when I finally go.
I park farther up the road, away from the swarm of cars crammed around the house. Just because this ismylast night with the Shelby doesn’t mean I want to see her hurt in any way. After getting out of the car, I slide my hands into my pockets and stroll toward the party with a suggestive smirk curling my lips. My predator enjoys the caressing touches from prey that I pass as I weave through the crowd looking for my target. It’s my need for vengeance that keeps us focused and not gorging on every pretty meal that bats their eyes at us. I do offer them winks and flirtatious promises of potential future events that will never come to pass. Taking the time to note the layout of the house, I pick the perfect room to lock us away from prying eyes. When it’s the right moment, her death will be a display no one will forget.Careful what you wish for, bitch. I might just give it to you.
Gina is dancing in the living room among her minions, red Solo cup in hand. It amuses me how she dismisses any guy who tries to get close, almost like she knows I’m coming for her. Her short, silver bodycon dress rides up her long legs as she makes a particularly low hip wiggle. It’s on her way back up when she spots me leaning against a wall, hands in my pockets and eyes only for her.
She freezes, her doe eyes wide with both excitement and fear. Appropriate for tonight. Slowly, I gaze down her body and then back up, my eyes promising pleasure and my wicked smile promising pain. Handing her drink off to a minion, she licks her lips and, without dropping eye contact, begins to sway seductively to the beat. It’s always nice when the meal invites you to dinner.
Leaving my vantage point on the wall, I prowl toward her using only violent glances and whispered words to move people out of the way. It excites her to see me using my abilities so casually. She’s drawn by my power. It places me where she thinks I belong—at the top of the social hierarchy right next to her.
When I reach her, I don’t say a word. Instead, I grab her by the hips, pull her close, and then slide a knee between her legs. She doesn’t need any more instruction than that to go back to dancing, riding my leg like a bitch in heat. While Gina has one arm around my neck and the other hand on my chest, I glance over her shoulder to give Anastasia an inviting look. She’s felt the bite, and it’s obvious she wants more. It takes no further encouragement for her to dance up behind me. Her hands go for my lower stomach while her tits are pressed against my back.
I let them play with the bait, working themselves up into a sexual frenzy, while I feel nothing but disgust and disdain. As their wandering hands stroke any place they can reach and lead my hands to all kinds of naughty places, my body is an empty vessel, only a tool to be used for enacting my plan. When they reach the point where I could probably fuck them both right here on the dance floor, I take each of their hands and lead them into the trap. The room I’ve chosen appears to be for guests and resides in the far back of the house. No one should hear their screams over the music.
When I reach the closed door, I put their hands on my chest and in a low, silky voice, I purr, “You were right. One won’t satisfy me, and I don’t like sharing.”
