Dorian's Destiny: Altered (7 page)

Thomas pushed Dorian away. “Excuse me, but
you're not my type,” he joked, wiping Dorian's blood and saliva
from his lips.

Forcefully removed from his friend before
the unfamiliar urges could travel farther south, Dorian froze in
utter shock over his impulsive act. Utterly humiliated and confused
by the act and rejection, he left with saying a word.

Thomas looked down at what remained of the
bum. “Dorian didn't even finish you off, did he? Well, I'm not one
to be wasteful,” he sneered.

*****

Dorian leaned against his locked bedroom
door, his heart racing from both the sprint home and his panic over
what he had just done.

Why did I kiss
Thomas?

He ran a finger gently across his lips.
Dropping his hand, he started to pace.

What's wrong with me? I
shouldn't have these feelings for another male. Not only that, he
rejected me. What if he hadn't?

Confused by emotions he had never faced
before, Dorian continued to pace, unclear what he should do.

I can't ever face him
again. I'll have to leave here, but I don’t have anywhere else to
go. I'm not going back to the forest.
I
like it here. I have an endless supply of books, blood, and a bed
that feels like a cloud. I'll just avoid him by staying in my room
when he's home.

Dorian stopped his pacing, grabbed a book
from his nightstand and flopped onto his bed, determined to
sequester himself there for all eternity.

*****

Not seeing, even a glimpse
of Dorian for days after his unrequited show of affection, Thomas
thought it best to try and mend the broken bridge between them.
Entering Dorian's room uninvited after picking the lock on the
door, he found him propped up in bed reading.

“It's bad manners for a house guest to
purposely avoid their host. Don't you agree?” Thomas made his way
over to sit on the edge of the bed.

Dorian continued to read his book, making no
effort to acknowledge his presence. He hoped Thomas would take the
hint and go away, since he had no desire to discuss what he knew to
be the reason for his visit. In fact, he tried hard to forget the
entire evening, pushing the embarrassing event deep inside a back
room in his mind, locking the door and throwing away the key.

Unfortunately, the only
way he had successfully kept his shame locked away was by avoiding
the one thing that had just broken into his room. Seeing Thomas
brought the unfortunate event flooding back. Thankfully, the
powerful
attraction he felt that evening
was gone, but the sensation still lingered on his lips. Fighting
the urge to touch his, Dorian stared intensely at the words on the
page before him.

“Dorian, I owe you an apology,” Thomas
stated sincerely.

The word apology caught Dorian's attention,
pulling him away from his book long enough to risk a glance at
Thomas.

“You caught me off guard that night in the
alley. Maybe, if you tried the kiss again, I would be more
receptive this time?” Thomas teased, puckering his lips for Dorian
to plant another one on him.

Holding back a chuckle ignited by his
ridiculous expression, Dorian punched him in the right
shoulder.

Relaxing his lips and rubbing his shoulder,
Thomas continued with his apology. “No, it's my fault. Drinking
human blood can be overwhelming at first. Along with the physical
changes, it can cause a myriad of emotions. Given your background,
I am sure some of those emotions were quite unfamiliar. I should
have anticipated such a reaction and warned you. For that, I am
sorry.”

Dorian appreciated Thomas' apology and
explanation of his unusual feelings. Oddly, it gave him a sense of
normalcy, a rarity in the abnormal world he now existed in. More
than anything though, he desperately wanted to forget the incident,
“Can we just forget it ever happened?” He begged.

“What happened?” Thomas asked, wearing a
puzzled look. Switching gears as only he could, he blurted out,
“Hey, let's go do something fun.”

*****

Thomas' idea of something fun was a trip to
an indoor shooting range. He conversed with the patron of the
established while Dorian perused the various types of firearms
lining the back wall. After making arrangements with the owner,
Thomas walked over.

“Let's start off small, shall we?” Thomas
suggested, gesturing for Dorian to follow him.

From the lobby, he led Dorian into a larger
room. Entering one of the many partitioned off booths, Thomas
emptied his hands and explained what they were there to do. “I
thought it might be fun to do some shooting. Have you ever used a
gun before?” Dorian shook his head. “I figured. You're a virgin to
a surplus of activities, aren't you? Exposing you to all the world
has to offer will be my pleasure,” Thomas declared, lightly patting
Dorian on the back while a devious grin graced his face. “Back to
shooting. On this counter,” he gestured, “is a gun for each of us
and ammunition. Don't worry,” he reassured him. “I will load both
guns. All you will need to do is aim and pull the trigger,
hopefully hitting one of the targets along the back wall.” He
finished by pointing to the black paper outlines of people.

After loading each gun,
Thomas pulled out two sets of ear plugs from his pant pockets.
“Humans must protect their ears while shooting to prevent damage.
Of course, with our healing ability, that is not something we have
to worry about. However, since our hearing is far beyond that of
humans, the noise will still hurt. So use these.” He handed Dorian
a pair and inserting his own. “No need to cause ourselves
any
unwanted
pain.” Once protected from the noise, he instructed Dorian on
the proper way to hold, aim and fire his gun.

“Now, go into the next booth and do exactly
what I showed you.” When Dorian complied, he called out, “Let the
best vamp win.”

Squeezing the trigger, Dorian did his best
to aim for the center of the paper outline. Seventeen times he
repeated the process Thomas had shown him. Once both weapons were
empty, Thomas pushed a button sending the targets to them.

Upon inspection of the target papers, he
congratulated Dorian. “Excellent job. You may have done better than
me, but it's hard to tell since we both have matching large, gaping
holes in the center of our paper men,” Thomas chuckled, sticking
his hand through the hole in the paper. “How about we make this
more interesting?” He asked while yanking and tossing both targets
aside.

“How?”

“You'll see,” Thomas hollered back, halfway
to the back of the range where the targets were located. After
positioning himself directly in Dorian's line of sight, he stripped
down to his underwear. “Ready! Shoot me!” He shouted, arms
outstretched and a crazy smile on his face.

“What?” Dorian spat, not believing what he
had just been asked to do.

“Shoot me!” Thomas yelled louder.

“Are you insane?!” Dorian sputtered, still
shocked by the ridiculous request.

Shrugging his shoulders, Thomas responded,
“Maybe. Just do it. Try not to hit me in the face or groin.”

This is the dumbest,
insane thing I've ever been asked to do...but it is definitely more
interesting that shooting a piece of paper.

Dorian repeated the steps he had apparently
mastered moments earlier, judging by Thomas' accolades. Aiming for
the exact middle of his chest, Dorian he hoped to miss the two 'off
limit' areas.

“Fuck!” Thomas screamed as the bullet hit
his chest, causing him to stagger back a step. Looking down at his
bloodied chest, he stuck his finger inside the wound to dig out the
bullet before it healed. “Wouldn't it be a bitch if my finger
healed up inside me and I had to rip my own hand out of myself?” He
held the souvenir up to his face to admire it before tucking the
bullet into his pocket. “That was exhilarating. Do it again.”
Thomas held up his hand after the sixth bullet cratered his chest.
“That's enough,” he panted. “Now it's your turn.”

“No.” Dorian shook his head adamantly.

“Come on, don't be a pussy,” Thomas
jeered.

“A what?” Dorian asked, not recognizing the
slang.

“Never mind,” Thomas sighed, realizing how
unworldly Dorian still was, “just get your chicken ass over here. I
let you shoot me, now it's my turn to repay the favor.”

“You asked me to shoot you,” Dorian reminded
him anxiously.

“So,” Thomas quipped back, shrugging his
shoulders before turning serious. “Am I going to have to make you?”
Smiling wickedly, he traveled back to the booth where his weapon
lay.

Knowing he would force him into compliance,
Dorian reluctantly proceeded to the back of the range and disrobed.
Standing in Thomas' line of sight, he gritted his teeth and waited
for the assault. As soon as the round left the chamber he could
tell it was aimed for his head. Even with the speed of a vampire,
Dorian had no hope of evading the bullet. It seared his flesh on
impact, hitting dead center on his forehead. Then, for the second
time in only a few months, Dorian crumpled to the ground, knocked
unconscious by Thomas' hand.

Once his vision returned, he stared up at a
happy Thomas.

“I must have hit something important in
there, since you blacked out for a second.” He pointed to Dorian's
freshly healed forehead.

“You jerk,” Dorian hissed, swatting away
Thomas' hand. “I thought you said no head or groin shots?” He wiped
the blood from his head, the only evidence of the foul play.

“I did, but when you didn't, I assumed you
were game for anything.” Thomas jeered, flashing his signature
wicked smile. “You should be thankful I shot you in the head. I
seriously considered aiming for your dick.” Thomas added pointing
to that part of Dorian's body, just in case he didn't understand
the slang. “Now that we're done mutilating each other for fun, what
do you say we show our gratitude to the owner?” He winked. Rising
from the kneeling position beside Dorian, he extended his hand to
help him off the ground.

Dorian frowned. “I don't understand you. If
you were planning on killing the owner, why didn’t you do that
first, and why even bother paying him?” He accepted Thomas' hand,
although the gesture was unnecessary.

Thomas sighed, as if the answer was obvious.
“I paid the owner so that we would not be interrupted. I postponed
killing him because a bloody mess in the lobby would attract the
wrong kind of attention. So, now we get to feed AND I get my money
back. It's a win-win,” he explained while helping him to his
feet.

Dorian walked over to where his clothes lay,
intending to redress, when Thomas grabbed his shoulder. “Don't get
dressed yet. Do you know how hard it is to remove blood
stains?”

Dorian shook his head.

“Well, neither did I, until some of my staff
came to me complaining. I went through several maids before I
started to take them seriously.” Thomas barred his fangs.

Dorian stared at him, brow
furrowed. “Why should I be concerned with a bloodstain now? I get
why we undressed to shoot each other,” shaking his head, still not
believing he had just partaken in such a ridiculous activity, “no
need to ruin nice clothes with bullet holes and blood, but I am
sure that I can feed without the need to remain undressed. I did
somehow manage to do the same the last time. I realize that I am
new to this more refined lifestyle, but I am not a slob!” Dorian
finished by yelling his frustration over Thomas'
tactlessness.

“Dorian, Dorian, Dorian,” Thomas repeated,
laughing, “You misunderstand. I did not intend to insult you, nor
do I deem you a slob. However, you do lack a sense of adventure. Of
course, it's not necessary for either one of us to be concerned
about bloodying our clothes under normal circumstances.” Thomas
added at the last moment, his signature grin returning, “But normal
can be so boring. Today, I intend on making a mess.” With that, he
turned from Dorian and waltzed into the lobby.

Sauntering up to the counter, his clothes
tucked under his left arm, Thomas banged on the service bell. Soon,
a short, balding, middle-aged man answered the call, emerging from
a back office.

“May I help you, sir?” The owner gawked at
Thomas, obviously taken aback by Thomas’ lack of clothing.

“Yes, you may!” Thomas spat, jabbing his
pointer finger on the counter with each word. “My friend,” he
glanced over his should at Dorian, who had just entered the lobby,
“and I are horribly dissatisfied with the service at this
establishment!”

“What seems to be the problem?” The owner
trembled slightly, his nerves reacting to Thomas' harsh tone.

“Well, we have yet to be provided with any
refreshments,” Thomas responded, after winking at Dorian, who now
stood to his left, a few feet away from the counter.

“I am sincerely sorry, sir, but we do not
provide refreshments to our customers,” the owner replied, hoping
his statement solved the problem.

“Oh, but you can,” Thomas sneered. His fangs
elongated and his eyes flashed red.

The man stepped back, but Thomas seized him
by the collar of his branded polo shirt before he could bolt toward
his office. With little more than a flick of his wrist, he sent the
man sailing through the air.

The sound of bones snapping filled the lobby
as he collided with the wall opposite the counter. A slight moan
escaped his lips as his broken body slumped to the floor.

“Help yourself Dorian, but please refrain
from draining him completely. I still have much in store for him,”
Thomas instructed, swinging himself up and over the counter. “I'm
going to see what goodies our friend has hiding in the back
office.”

Returning his attention back to the owner of
the range, Dorian felt a twinge of guilt. Before that emotion could
completely blossom, he concentrated on channeling the instinct he
felt with his first taste of blood.