An Unattractive Vampire (17 page)

Quite possibly, the most important category, and the reason why we must be scrupulous when choosing candidates, is how a person behaves once they’ve been turned. Proper Vampirism™ must be reflected not only in the proper aesthetic but also in the proper behaviors. Here is a guide to the minimum that is expected of a vampire.

1. Feeding: First and foremost, blood will be on your mind. It is an insatiable need that has not diminished in the later generations of vampires. It is, however, manageable for those of sufficient self-control. Never has this been more important than now. We can no longer afford to kill anyone we feed on. People are too easily tracked with GPS. Witnesses are too easily believed with video phones. There are more police than at any other time in history, and they are more capable than ever. I don’t expect you all to be perfect; accidents will happen, after all. What we cannot have is a killing spree. One of those, and not only will it endanger our existence, it will endanger our reputation.
   

   Addendum: It is no longer necessary for us to hunt at all. Over the past few decades, a culture has risen up around us, and with it has come individuals willing to let us feed on them. The rules for feeding, therefore, have changed and are the same as the rules for sex, namely that feeding on unwilling humans is NOT acceptable under any circumstances. Those who argue it should be allowed in the event of an emergency would do well to remember they are immortal and can never starve to death.
   

2. Sex: We are attempting to remake the image of vampirism into something desirable. As such, we cannot just be beautiful; we must back up that promise of beauty in the bedroom. All vampires must be spectacular lovers and will learn to be so. Emphasis on learn. I do not put sexual prowess into the criteria of who becomes a vampire, because I would rather someone with too little experience than too much. A blank canvas, I can work with. Breaking existing bad habits is far more difficult.
   

   Individual lessons will be given in proper intercourse; however, I will give a general overview. Vampire sex comes in two styles: passionately sensual or animalistic frenzy. There is no in-between. There are no other categories. Talking dirty is beneath us. Role-playing is redundant. Light bondage is acceptable. However, more extreme forms of fetishism are expressly forbidden. Again, you represent all of us, and even here, we must retain a level of respectability.
   

   And skill. After all, this is not about your own pleasure. Any human can indulge that. It takes an inhuman to give such mind-numbing ecstasy to another. Every act of lovemaking must last an hour and a half minimum and result in the sexual climax of your partner on at least three occasions. No exceptions.
   

   Addendum: Vampirism does not discriminate based on sexual preference or gender identification. We in the vampire community support our LGBT brothers and sisters and are proud to welcome them into the fold.
   

3. Language: In maintaining our image, certain words are better than others. A vampire should exude mystery. Your speech cannot be littered with catchphrases or expressions that date you, unless they date you by fifty years. Likewise, a vampire should never
   try
   to relate to the modern age through language. The only thing sadder than a vampire who thinks you are “totally radical, dude” is one who thinks you are “totes hott OMG!” A vampire is a timeless being, remember that.
   

   Another faux pas is uncertainty. Vampiric speech cannot be filled with
   ers
   ,
   uhs
   , or
   ums
   . Nor should it devolve into incessant chatter. If slow and steady won’t win you the race, then quiet always will. There is nothing sexier than the sullen, silent stranger.
   

   Addendum: As previously mentioned in the section on sex, cursing, by and large, should be avoided. While a good
   goddamn
   and well-placed
   hell
   are always welcome, other words have no place in the vampire vocabulary. Swear words are meant to be base, low things. Most reference excrement or sex, low concerns closer to those ancient, vile beasts than the modern vampire. Think of your perfect man or woman. Imagine seducing them with your vampire beauty. Now imagine opening your mouth and saying s--- or f--- or a--. You will not have to imagine them walking away.
   

4. Bettering Yourself/Employment: An eternity is a long time. Believe me when I say you will get bored. You will need distractions. What better way than a job, you say. You can earn money and pass time. But not all professions are worthy of a vampire. A vampire must have a proper job. An artist, maybe, or a musician. A doctor or CEO. You may not be qualified for these professions, but you can be. Take classes. Earn degrees. Better yourself. Now that you are a vampire, you have all the time in the world.
   

   Note: Bettering one’s self should occur
   after
   becoming a vampire. Those who attempt to do so prior to the change are in danger of running into the age limit. Many of the mortal vampire “elders” came to be in just this way.
   

By adhering to these rules, by screening who can become a vampire, by managing how they become a vampire, and by affecting what kind of vampire they become, we can make the vampire greater than it is today. Imagine a vampire that can walk in the sunlight or one that doesn’t drink blood. Imagine if we could create an immortal entity of pure beauty with absolutely no consequence. What a sight that would be. Together, we can make this vision a reality. By adhering to my very basic rules we can make sure that the path to Proper Vampirism™ goes through you!

The Doctor Lord Talby was born in England over a hundred and twenty-five years ago. In that time, he has worked to make the vampire into what it has become today and, as such, has earned the title “Father of Modern Vampirism.” He maintains residences and medical practices in New York, London, and Beijing, but spends most of his time in LA.

• •

Yulric crushed the pamphlet when he finished reading it. He continued down the sewer drain, using curse words that pertained to sex and excrement.
⁴¹
The Doctor Lord Talby would not have approved.

Amanda enjoyed three whole days of blissful normalcy. Three days of working, sleeping, and watching TV without a looming shadow falling over her or a furious howl waking her up. Of believing that the rotting old monster was never, ever going to come back. It was wonderful.

Then, just after sunset on the fourth evening, Yulric stormed out of the cellar and made a beeline for the couch.

“So, you’re back, then?” she asked. He did not answer, but with an intensity not usually seen in those about to watch TV, threw open a
Phantom Vampire Mysteries
DVD case and inserted it into the player.

“Where’d you go after the club?” she tried, hoping for a little insight. Still, he did not respond. He put on a season-one episode, but skipped over it completely, stopping only to watch the credits go by. At the name of the executive producer, he paused the screen.

“Boy!” he bellowed.

“What?” came an answering call from upstairs.

“Bring me books and maps,” the vampire shouted back. The scurry of footsteps could be heard above as Simon ran about his room collecting his favorite things.

“Well, it looks like you two will be busy,” she said. “If you’d just keep an eye on my brother while I’m at work.” Still, he did not acknowledge her presence. He took out the first DVD and put in another, this one a show from the early ’90s about a detective who goes undercover as a vampire, the twist being that he is already, secretly, a vampire. Again, he skipped the entire episode and went right to the credits.

Amanda slung her purse over her shoulder and was on her way out.

“I do not think they will ever let you join them.”

Amanda spun around to ask what he had meant by that, but the vampire was turned away, looking for an earlier TV series about a late-night radio psychologist looking for love. Amanda drove away that night convincing herself that he hadn’t spoken at all, that it had just been her imagination.

Nearby, a phone call was made.

• •

It was seven days before anything happened. After all, schedules had to be changed, limos had to be called, jets needed to be chartered, more limos had to be called, suites needed to be booked, room service had to be ordered (for appearances), autographs needed to be signed for waiters’ nieces, who were “really big fans,” and finally, hotel rooms had to be sneaked out of without the paparazzi noticing, which is a feat only an immortal could possibly achieve.

It was difficult to walk through the Linskes’ living room at this time. Books and maps littered every inch of floor space between couch and television, as well as a few other places, the vampire having a habit of tossing books across the room when frustrated. Yulric had not moved in a week, but skittered across his piles of papers cross-referencing the name Talby in book acknowledgments and DVD credits. What Yulric was looking for was not exactly clear; Simon had handed him the man’s Los Angeles post-office box, printed from the Phantom Studios home page. The siblings merely supposed the ancient creature refused to believe his quarry would publicly boast of his location.

Amanda knew she should be thanking her lucky stars; this new Yulric was practically a dream. He showed absolutely no sign of killing anyone other than this Talby he was searching for and paid very little attention to the humans at all. His nest of research aside, he had become less trouble than owning a dog or a cat. Yet, Amanda still couldn’t shake the feeling that soon the other shoe would drop.

The night it did began with Amanda attempting to push Simon into the bath.

“You are ruining my experiment,” he pleaded, trying to keep his sister from stripping him down. “I am testing the benefits of cleanliness versus natural odors and how they pertain to an undetectable approach upon the undead.”

“Well, the results are in, and they say that if the living can smell you, you stink too much,” she said, managing to wrangle his shirt from him.

“Ah, but the human nose and the immortal nose are attuned differently,” he argued. “People smell stink, whereas a monster is more likely to smell soap and perfume.”

“I’m pretty sure they smell both,” she replied, grabbing one pant leg.

“
Pretty sure
is not certain,” challenged Simon. He was now hopping up and down, trying to keep his other leg out of her grasp. “This is why experimentation is needed.”

“Look, Simon,” she said, finally buckling, “if you take a bath, I will let you take your Houdini kit in with you.” This stopped him hopping.

“Even the straitjacket?” he asked cautiously.

“Even the straitjacket,” she agreed.

“And you won’t leave it loose, like you normally do? You’ll make it nice and tight.”

“There will be no way you could possibly escape,” she assured him.

“Very well,” he replied and finished taking his clothes off. Amanda went and retrieved the straitjacket from his room. She had never really been sure how he’d managed to get his hands on it, but decided to treat its appearance like she did most things having to do with Simon—with silence. After putting the thing on him and chaining his feet and chest below the water, Amanda stood over the bathtub, ready to cover it with a wooden lid.

“Remember to leave the stopwatch on the sink,” Simon instructed.

“Wash your hair when you get your hands free,” she told him. His head was halfway in the water, which she was sure he would use as an excuse later for having “not heard her.” She placed the cover over him and hit the timer as she left the bathroom, her war won.

Unfortunately, the war, like most, had taken longer than the combatants had thought it would, and she was now running late. Going into panic mode, she began undressing in the middle of the hallway. She was doing her best imitation of Simon’s earlier hopping when the doorbell rang through the house, after which Amanda’s profanity rang through the house. She tore down the stairs, nearly falling, and only just remembered to put on her scrub shirt before opening the door and immediately wishing she hadn’t.

Deep brown eyes stared at her from the other side. Sad-but-wholesome deep brown eyes, which bore into Amanda and caressed her soul. Deep brown eyes whose every answer would be “you.” A strong nose divided the eyes into perfectly symmetrical halves. Above a strong, stubbled chin, a soft, tender mouth formed a mournful smile that Amanda wanted to comfort with soft, loving kisses. All of this was framed by perfect shoulder-length brown hair.

A cold wind blew across the owner of the deep brown eyes, sweeping his hair across his face and his long black coat across his body. His body! Amanda hadn’t even made it past his head. A black button-down shirt hugged his ample muscular chest. The pants were black and long and not particularly tight, but Amanda had seen enough on TV to give her a fairly decent idea of what lay beneath, and what she hadn’t already seen, she could imagine. Oh, how she could imagine.

Amanda couldn’t catch her breath. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t even respond to the urge to tear her clothes off. She was frozen in place with both the door and her mouth gaping open stupidly.

“Hi.” Words, blessed words emerged from the lovely, sad mouth. “Amanda, right?”

Amanda nodded. In a deep part of her brain, she realized she should say something and so muttered, “Ph-Phantom.” Before she could stop herself, she reached out and poked him to make sure he was real.

“I’m not really a ghost; I just play one on TV,” he quipped, taking the extremely awkward moment in stride. “Hey, you post on the fan site, right?”

Amanda’s eyes went wide. If he’d actually read what she’d posted . . .
everything
she’d posted, the fan fic and everything . . . Suddenly, Amanda wished her arms had the strength to close the door.

Phantom, unsure of what this silence meant, continued. “You are PhaNora4EVR640, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes,” answered Amanda, realizing he actually expected her to respond.

“Wow,” he said. “It is really great to meet you. The writers have said your posts are some of the most trusted and constructive they’ve ever read. Didn’t you, guys?”