Double Take by A.J. Cole (books to improve english .TXT) 📖

that moment.

“No, of course not, because no one would listen if I did. Run along, Sammie – go play with the faux vampires.”

She stopped and put her hands on her hips. “What – are you jealous or something? And if they’re fake, what the hell are we? The real thing? Come on, Bart! At least they try to take it to a higher level of reality, so what’s the big deal?”

“Like I said, but which naturally no one heard, vampires don’t bite other vampires!” He could feel himself shifting from whiney to worked-up, which wouldn’t bode well for anybody.

On the other side of the park, Maya and her friends had been talking to the rest of the group – his group, by god – but as he’d given Sammie her marching orders, the lovely dark-skinned Maya had detached herself from the rest and approached him. Upon reaching Bart, she gave him a toothy smile and said, “We don’t?”

Startled, he uncrossed his arms and stood straighter as Sammie took a step back. “You… you don’t what, exactly?”

“Bite other vampires. How would you know?”

“Oh, come on, Maya. Everyone knows that, and… how did you hear me?”

“They also ‘know’ that we sparkle in the sunlight,” she said, not answering his question about hearing him, “get burned by holy water and crucifixes, and can’t eat regular food.” She snorted. “What a load of manure!”

Bart narrowed his eyes, suspicious. Was she role-playing? And another thing – “Aren’t you kinda young to be out this late?”

Her smile grew, and for the first time, Bart saw that her fake vampire fangs didn’t look fake at all. “Hardly,” she said, coming closer.

He gulped. “What, er, I mean, uh, right.”

“You’re cute, Bart,” she whispered, reaching up and resting a hand against his cheek. “And I’m much older than you think.” She raised herself on tiptoe and kissed him softly on the lips.

Was he shocked? Indeed he was. Did he suspect her motives? Indeed he did. Was he also a guy? Indeed, period. Unable to talk himself out of it, he kissed her back, his mind doing weird emotional calisthenics. At some point, he heard Sammie wander off, and at some point later, felt her mouth move away toward the side of his throat, leaving little kisses along its path. And then the strangest sensation, an almost orgasmic pressure against his skin, followed by the release of something… blood? No. Couldn’t be. That would hurt, and this – this – this oh, my. He moaned, hoping she’d never stop doing whatever it was she was doing.

“Oh, Bart, seriously? You nodded off?”

“Huh?” He opened his eyes and realized he was looking at someone’s kneecaps. “What the heck!” Blinking a few times, he looked up.

“Dude, it’s really late, and most of us have gone already. Are you coming, or do you plan to walk home? Sheesh.”

“No, I… what happened? I was – I was talking to Maya about, um, about the game.” He struggled to his feet and looked around. Except for two or three other players, the park was deserted. “I – I think she kissed me.”

His friend barked out an incredulous laugh. “Maya? Wow, I’d like some of whatever you’re smoking! Dude, she’s what – fourteen?”

Bart scowled and looked away. If that had been a dream, it had been the most realistic one he’d ever experienced. Still… “Yeah. You must be right. Let me grab my notebook from the bench and we’ll go.”

“Whatever.”

 

*******

Several miles away, three once-a-month vampires were happily snacking on several glittering couples who had left the local opera house a short time earlier.

When they were done, they headed for the next place on Leander’s itinerary: the Black Light District. Well, that was what everyone called it, he explained in response to Arissa’s “What’s that, now?”

“It’s a series of bars where vamps and werewolves hang out. Except on full-moon nights, of course. Then it’s only vampires. But I figured that since not all of them show up at our meetings, they should meet you.”

“Are they okay with the whole werepire thing?”

“Why wouldn’t they be?” Maya shrugged. “Besides, we go there a lot and no one ever seems offended or upset with us.” She grabbed Arissa’s hand, Leander taking the other, and they ran off into the night as only they could.

The names of the bars were innocuous – the first was “Night Bite,” which could as easily have been the name of an all-night diner. The one a few doors down had a single name, “Van’s,” and the remaining two along the street were “The Dragon Club,” and “Murphy’s,” respectively.

Arissa was taken aback somewhat by the last one. She understood how the others had names that could have been code for vampirish things (“Van’s” for Van Helsing, “The Dragon Club” for Dracula, and of course, “Night Bite” spoke for itself), but “Murphy’s”? Really?

The Night Bite was almost empty. Most of the patrons were sipping from bottles of what looked like red ale. She leaned sideways and whispered to Maya, “Is there blood in their beer?”

“Of course. And don’t bother whispering, Riss – they can hear you anyway.” She giggled.

“Oh, right.”

“Some of them are drinking regular alcohol with a blood chaser.” This was Leander, who was looking around, lips pursed.

The music confused Arissa - coming from a source other than the digital juke box on one of the walls, the melody was a lot more subtle than any she’d heard before in a bar.

Of the ten or so individuals seated here and there, only one had bothered to look up when the three werepires entered. He’d given them a heavy-lidded stare and gone back to his conversation with a woman in a red sequined pants suit.

Wow, thought Arissa, taking in the sparkling outfit, what horrible taste! “Um, Leander? Not – ”

“I know. Let’s go next door.”

Van’s wasn’t much better, which prompted Arissa to wonder if these two were patronized more by werewolves than vampires. They only stayed a few seconds before heading out to The Dragon Club which was several doors down on the other side of the street.

Two bleary-eyed vampires blinked at them a few times and turned away.

Back outside, Maya hesitated. “Do you think it’s even worth the effort to try Murphy’s? I mean, no one seems to be out partying tonight. Of course, it is Tuesday.”

“Well, it’s right here,” Leander pointed out, waving at a dark green door across the street. “May as well check it out. If no one’s there, we’ll go do something else.”

Arissa snickered. “I could say it’s real dead in those bars, but you’d probably smack me.”

Leander stopped walking and turned toward her. “Yes. Yes, I probably would.” He took a deep breath and continued across the road.

There’s a lot to be said about being Irish. Ask any Irishman. Ask his friends, too, even the ones who aren’t Irish. When the three werepires opened the unremarkable green door, they stepped into a remarkable world. It looked like everyone who should have been at the previous three bars had decided to come here instead. The music was loud, the driving rhythms of classic rock tickling the newcomers’ feet, making them want to move, stomp, be part of the party.

“Wow!” Arissa said, knowing only the supernatural beings could hear her over the din. Around her, the patrons were laughing, some dancing, all of them drinking and holding top-of-their-lungs conversations. Without waiting to see what her two companions wanted to do, she strode to the bar.

“Ah! Someone new!” The bartender had said this in a modulated yell, grinning. “Welcome to Murphy’s! Are you here to get drunk or be drunk from?” He laughed a little wildly.

Is he testing me to see if his words would send me screaming out into the night? “That depends!” she yelled back. “Are there any humans around?” Her laughter mimicked his, and he took a step back.

“Oh! Um, no! Not for that past hour or so!” Despite the obligatory exclamation points, his tone was conversational. “So you’re a vampire, too, then, eh?!”

“For tonight!”

“For – OH! So you’re a WEREPIRE, then!” Mere italics wouldn’t have made him heard over the clamor. She didn’t bother to point out that she didn’t need him to do that.

“You got it! Name’s Riss!”

“Nice to meet you! I’m Connor! What’ll you have?!”

All this shouting was starting to get on her nerves, so she ordered a vodka and tonic without wasting time to consider what she was in the mood for, figuring the sooner she got her drink, the sooner she could stop trying to talk.

“Blood chaser?!”

“Sure! Is it fresh?!”

“Are you kidding?! We’d lose our license otherwise! You must be REALLY new!”

“I am!”

He smiled and nodded, put down his bar-towel, and went off to make her drink.

Five minutes later she was snuggled into a booth with Leander and Maya sitting across from her. To her surprise, she found the combination of blood and her cocktail pleasant, and was soon ready for another.

They relaxed, enjoyed their drinks, and watched the full-time vampires having fun around them. No one paid them any attention for a while, but after her third round of drinks, Arissa began to sense someone staring at her from the bar. Because she hadn’t been facing him, it took a few minutes for her instincts to sense him gazing at her profile, and she finally turned her head enough to see who was making her skin tingle.

At first he stayed where he was, not even trying to look away. But then he shrugged, got up, and approached the booth. Looking like someone close to Arissa’s age, the man was easily six-foot-five with a powerful build, handsome features, dark brown hair cut into attractive shaggy spikes, and as he got closer, she could see his eyes were – his eyes were – not shimmering. Not even a little. His pupils were undeniably round while his irises were hazel with more light green than brown.

“Who are you?” he asked, frowning down at Arissa. That was it. No pick-up line, no introduction, nothing.

She frowned back up at him. “My name? Or my species, maybe? Not sure what you’re asking.” The alcohol was beginning to affect her, she realized, but not nearly as much as it would have had she still been human.

“Both, I think. I mean, you seem to be a vampire, yet you have the eyes of a werewolf, but not quite. If you feel like giving me your name, that’d be okay, too.” He shrugged but never took his eyes from hers.

“Tell you what.” She put her glass on the table and turned sideways to see him better. “Tell me your name and why a non-vampire would be hanging out in a bar like this, and I’ll let you sit down so I can answer you.”

“Okay. My name is Finn Murphy. I hope that also answers your second requirement for a seat at your table.”

Leander groaned.

“What?!” Arissa had made the connection, but it hadn’t occurred to her that her friends already knew this person. Well, not until Leander’s muffled outburst. Oddly enough, despite her enhanced hearing, the groan was the only thing she’d been able to discern over the noise. That, and Finn’s voice. How strange…

She patted the bench and the enigmatic young man sat. “Do you own the bar, or are you just related to the owner?”

“Both, really. My grandfather built it, my dad maintains is, and I’ll be inheriting it.”

“Wow. Three generations. But why can I hear you so well?”

“I’m not human.”

She screamed.

“What the hell?” Finn gave a start and slid back a few inches. “I scare you? You?”

“She does that a lot,” explained Leander. “Sorry. I’m Leander, by the way. I know who you are, but didn’t have any reason to bother you before.”

“Bother me?”

“Well, yeah. With introducing myself and all that. Figured you had your own friends.”

“Oh. Not really.” He stared around the room for a moment before continuing. “They all know me, naturally, but I’m off-limits – some deal my father made with the head vampire guy. If any of them even