Blood Candy (11 page)

White Paul glanced back at Chester who was
talking to Medium Dave out on the porch.

“What a weirdo,” he said.

“Let’s see where the others are,” Jimmy said.
He pulled out his cell phone and started typing out a text. A few
seconds later his phone chimed with a return message. “They’re back
where we pulled into the driveway. Were-Jew’s going to scout
around.”

It was ridiculously cold inside the mansion.
Candy was thinking she should have worn something other than shorts
when soft footsteps echoed in the chamber. She turned to see a girl
of perhaps fourteen or fifteen walking towards them, her face
plastered in dark mascara and eyeliner. She was dressed in ripped
jeans and a skimpy black top. To complete the goth look, she also
wore lipstick matching the color of her jet black hair which hung
down in uneven strands over her face. She swung her head to the
side to clear some of the hair, revealing icy gray-blue eyes, and
then she touched a cherry red popsicle to her lips. Everyone stared
at her while she licked it in an inappropriate manner. White Paul
dropped his mouth open and his eyes nearly bugged out of his
head.

“Uh,” Jimmy said. “Is your mother
home?”

“My mother?” said the girl, her voice
disturbingly sensual. “She’s dead.”

“Dead? But we just spoke with—”

“David!” the girl blurted out as Medium Dave
walked inside. She held her arms out and hustled over to him, her
bare feet slapping against the marble floor. Medium Dave sheepishly
stepped forward into her embrace and his face burned red when the
girl planted a quick kiss on his cheek that left behind the black
outline of her lips.

“It’s been too long, David. I was beginning to
think I’d never see you again.”

The girl rubbed up against Medium Dave while
everyone else watched on with mixed interest and confusion. Candy
didn’t want to know what was going on over in White Paul’s head.
The girl separated herself from Medium Dave and turned her
attention to the others.

“You should introduce me to your
friends.”

Medium Dave was almost too embarrassed to
talk. He shuffled his feet for a moment before finding his voice.
“This is Jimmy, White Paul, and Candy.” He lowered his eyes to the
floor. “This is Anastasia.”

Anastasia gave them a big smile. “Welcome to
my home.”

Everyone’s eyes went a little wide when they
realized she was the head of the house—the Mullin mother, the
vampire
mother. Candy didn’t think the situation could get
any stranger and yet it had.

“A pleasure to meet you. Any friends of
David’s are friends of mine,” Anastasia said. “Please, make
yourselves comfortable. Is it too cold? I don’t often have mortal
company.” She seemed perfectly comfortable in the freezing
house.

“The pleasure is mine,” White Paul said as he
moved forward and bumped Medium Dave out of the way. “The cold
doesn’t bother me at all.”

The cold stare Anastasia flashed his way made
his smile instantly vanish. The girl turned her attention to Candy
once White Paul had taken a few steps back.

“I was told you ran into a bit of a problem
with an Englishman,” she said as she daintily held the popsicle in
her upturned hand. “The English have never been known for their
manners or charm, though they certainly try.”

“Yes,” Jimmy said, nodding dumbly. He may have
been more uncomfortable than Candy in Anastasia’s presence. “His
name’s Rupert and he’s been stalking Candy.”

Anastasia moved in front of Candy. The girl’s
eerie eyes were hard to look at, and Candy found herself staring at
the ground most of the time. The popsicle dripped a few red spots
on the otherwise pristine white floor.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” the
vampire mother asked.

Candy looked to Jimmy for reassurance. He
nodded.

“He attacked me. Rupert did,” Candy
said.

Anastasia seemed to ponder this for a moment,
her head tilted slightly with her unnatural eyes locked onto Candy.
She bit off a piece of the popsicle, some of the red juice running
down her chin. The vampire girl was quick to clean it up with her
tongue.

“I see. I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but
I would like to hear everything from the start. Every detail could
help.”

Candy lowered her head again. She didn’t like
those glassy gray eyes, and the exposed skin of the girl’s abdomen
was so pale it didn’t seem real. The idea that this young girl had
fangs and a thirst for blood freaked her out. Jimmy squeezed her
hand, giving her courage.

“I went to a bar. Rupert was hitting on me,”
Candy said.

“How unfortunate,” Anastasia said. “He
attacked after you told him to get lost?”

“No. I left the bar with him.”

Anastasia frowned. “You told him no after
further advances, and then he attacked?”

Candy felt everyone’s eyes on her and her face
burned. She couldn’t remember being more embarrassed in her
life.

“No,” she said. “I mean I didn’t have the
chance.”

Jimmy stepped in to help her out. “He
glamoured her. He tricked her.”

“Glamoured?” Anastasia said. “I haven’t heard
that term used by mortals in a long time. Most people these days
prefer ‘charm’ or ‘mesmerize.’ ”

“That shit has to be illegal,” White Paul
grumbled. “It’s the date rape drug of the vampire
world.”

“Sadly, no,” said the vampire girl. “Though
all refined vampires look down on it. The theft of free will is a
sin of the highest order, literally a slap in the face of
God.”

Anastasia made everyone uncomfortable in more
ways than one. It was the combination of her mature tone and
language on such a young body, and the way her eyes seemed to bore
right into whoever she was looking at. The whole situation was so
odd Candy wondered if maybe it was a joke. She almost wanted to
slap the popsicle out of the girl’s impossibly white hand to see
what would happen, and because it freaked her out every time it was
brought up for a lick.

“Did he bite you, Candy?”

Candy didn’t want to answer any more
questions. She didn’t want to be around the vampire girl. With her
eyes averted to the ground, she nodded. Anastasia gently took her
chin in one hand and turned her head to the side. She brushed the
hair from Candy’s neck.

“Tell me what happened,” Anastasia
said.

Candy breathed deeply and set her resolve to
get this over with.

“It’s hard to remember,” she said. “I was
charmed. I didn’t know what I was doing. He bit me and then someone
came to help. I don’t remember much else. All I know is he’s
completely insane. He’s been trying to find me ever
since.”

“Interesting,” Anastasia said. “I assume, if
you’re here of your own free will, that you didn’t
climax?”

“Hey! You don’t need to ask such personal
questions,” Jimmy said.

Anastasia’s fierce, liquid eyes blazed at him.
“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t pertinent. I ask because that’s a
means through which vampires enthrall humans, and the English are
particularly notorious for it.”

Jimmy pulled Candy back to his side, ready to
do the talking once again. “What can we do about this? Is there
anything you can do?” he said.

Anastasia ignored him. “It’s no mystery why he
wants you so badly.” She smiled, showing little white fangs. “Your
blood is like candy to us.”

Jimmy and White Paul passed questioning
glances to each other, but no one was more intrigued than Candy.
Jimmy asked, “What do you mean?”

“There was a time when I would have paid a
hefty price for someone like you,” the vampire said, smiling and
licking her lips, her tongue stained red from the popsicle. “Maybe
I still would.”

“I thought they didn’t drink human blood,”
White Paul said to Medium Dave in a whisper everyone
heard.

Anastasia’s otherwise soft voice boomed in the
high ceilinged antechamber. “We don’t. I was merely trying to
illustrate a point. Her blood is irresistible to our
kind.”

“Why?” Candy said.

Anastasia grinned as if the subject delighted
her to no end.

“A few reasons,” she said. “The vampires of
old fooled the superstitious into believing in such things as
celibacy. It’s a worldwide practice that goes back further than
anyone can remember. Superstitious people were led to believe God
cares how pure someone is, that He cares when and how people
partake in the pleasures of the flesh.”

Anastasia tilted her head and closed her eyes
as if she was lost in a fond memory. She let out a long sigh and
then focused on Candy again. “You see,” she said, “blood ages like
a fine wine. The longer it remains corked, the better it
tastes.”

The Misfits glanced around at each other,
unsure what exactly she was talking about. White Paul let out a
little chuckle.

“Wait,” he said. “You mean she’s a
virgin?”

Candy spun around and gave him a look of pure
vitriol. “What’s it to you?”

“Nothing,” he said, smirking.

“That is precisely what I mean,” Anastasia
purred.

“That doesn’t make any sense. Jimmy’s a virgin
so why aren’t vampires after him?” White Paul said.

Jimmy glared at his friend, though the
revelation didn’t surprise anyone.

“First,” Anastasia said, “it doesn’t work the
same way with men. Second, shapeshifter blood tastes worse than
piss. Do you know what piss tastes like?”

Candy scrunched her face at the thought.
Medium Dave raised his hand.

“But none of that is what truly makes her
blood so very special,” Anastasia continued. “A virgin at eighteen
isn’t such a rare thing, even these days. It’s merely a compliment
to something else within her veins. It’s the cherry atop the
cheesecake. There’s more to her that makes vampires go
crazy.”

Everyone watched the little goth girl
intently, waiting to hear what made Candy so special. Anastasia
looked over her shoulder towards the stairs and then she put her
hand up as if waving someone down. Candy didn’t see anyone
there.

“I have a plan,” Anastasia said.
“Unfortunately, within the laws and customs of vampire society
there’s nothing I can do to directly help. Rupert can claim your
blood because he was the first and thus far the only to partake of
it. According to our laws, you are his and his alone, you are his
blood slave. I know, it’s an old and archaic custom, but that’s
what we are. My hands are tied unless you untie them for
me.”

Candy wanted to know what made her blood so
special, but this whole thing about being a blood slave knocked her
down mentally. She couldn’t get the terrifying implications out of
her head.

“What do you mean?” she said. “What can I
do?”

“Let my family claim you. If you do, I can
call in a mediator to settle the matter. It’s the only thing I can
do for you.”

“Wait a minute. No one’s claiming anyone,”
Jimmy said.

Candy’s mind raced. The cogs turned and
churned out the same word over and over again—
blood slave
.
She couldn’t stand the thought of it; the darkening clouds when
Rupert became angry; his grasp she couldn’t escape while he bit her
neck; his repulsive voice on her phone, haunting her forever. She
refused to let that happen again.

“I’ll do it,” she said.

Jimmy stammered, but under Anastasia’s stare
he couldn’t get anything out.

“I’ll set it up. I’ll contact someone
impartial to help with the situation,” Anastasia said. “Until then,
you should remain guests in my home while this matter is settled.
I’ll send down one of my sons to keep you entertained while I
change into something more appropriate.”

Jimmy waited for the creepy girl to disappear
up the stairs and then he exploded. “Are you insane? You don’t even
know what this blood claim shit means. Why would you say
yes?”

Candy snatched her hand away when he tried to
take it, upset and thinking he had no right to talk to her that
way. “Didn’t you hear her? There’s nothing else she can do. I’m not
going to be that asshole’s slave.”

Jimmy tried to calm himself. He watched Candy
for a long time with his hands on his hips. “I hope you’re right,”
he said.

Candy didn’t say anything. She hoped she was
right, too. She let him take her into his arms though she wanted
nothing more than to be alone.

“Here’s the important question,” White Paul
said. “Did anyone else pitch a tent while she worked that
popsicle?”

“She’s like fourteen,” Candy said.

“Plus a couple hundred,” White Paul
corrected.

Candy shuddered. “God, this is so creepy.
Maybe you’re right, Jimmy. Maybe this is a mistake.”

“You guys are making a big deal out of
nothing,” Medium Dave mumbled. “She’s cool. She’ll help us
out.”

“She’s cool? She’s a freak,” Jimmy said. “You
have some explaining to do.”