Chapter Sixteen: My Girlfriend, The Vampire

Verne sat cross-legged on the couch watching Lisa. Verne had already changed out of the evening gown in favor of sweats and a tee shirt, courtesy Ellen Gomez's wardrobe. Lisa crouched and rifled through Verne's backpack, perusing the remaining options. She settled on the black yoga pants, bikini briefs, and an orange cream halter-top that Verne had mistaken for a full-length tee. Then Lisa peeled her way-loose summer dress off, letting it flutter to the floor, and her panties followed... they must have been from when she was much younger, as Lisa's lucky green panties wouldn't have remotely fit her anymore. Her body was sleek and perfect, toned muscles sliding beneath pale skin. Even her hair was different, straight and honey-blonde like her mother's rather than the silky brown curls that Verne had loved.

She struck a pose and shot a coy look toward Verne... her face had changed, too. For the better, most would have insisted. Her face was breathtakingly, almost impossibly beautiful, with ice-blue eyes, high cheekbones, and plump, red lips curved up into a perpetual coy smirk. But it was a cold beauty, lacking the warm radiance that Lisa's smile had once had. Still nude, she glanced up to catch Verne watching her, and her lips lifted into a mischievous smile that felt the slightest bit cruel, like a predatory cat anticipating its next pounce. Then she dressed with sinuous grace, sliding the yoga pants up long, taut legs, before going for the bra. The pants were just a bit short – Lisa was two or three inches taller than Verne now – but the bra fit perfectly.

"Well... that's convenient," Lisa said. "We'll be able to share."

"Are you going to stick around?"

Lisa shrugged and stalked back to the couch, curling into a cross-legged sit such that they were looking at one another face to face. The first glow of dawn peeped through the blinds, but it would be some time before it grew uncomfortable enough to shutter the window. Lisa reached across to Verne, soft fingers running along his cheek, and deftly moved his hair out of the way. She stared into his blood-rimmed hazel eyes – her own eyes were an enchanting glacial blue with no hint of the crimson or maroon that Verne had noticed in most vampires' eyes... from what Verne gathered, blood-red eyes was about fifty-fifty and didn't indicate anything much beyond the unpredictability of vampiric turning.

"Do you want me to stick around?" she asked. Her voice, at least, was the same sweet soprano. That was good – Lisa had always considered it one of her best features.

"I thought you might not want to... after I told you the venom might kill you, it seemed like you freaked out. And I couldn't blame you if you did. Hell, I was freaking out about it..."

Lisa smiled again – what should have been a warm and sunny smile instead projected the icy beauty of a moonlit winter night. "But I didn't die, and I know you only wanted to help... and you did help. I know I look pretty different, but I figure that you of all people should be copacetic to a little unexpected transformation."

"Yeah. It would be pretty hypocritical for me not to be," Verne agreed. "I was so worried... I thought I'd killed you. What happened?"

Lisa ran her finger along the bullet hole in the couch, a tuft of foam padding tumbling to the seat cushion. "I can't believe you got shot. Can I see?"

"There's not much to see," Verne said, but he lifted his shirt anyway, revealing a perfectly smooth belly with no sign of bullet wound or any other blemish. "But you're avoiding the question. What happened? How did you get here?"

Lisa shrugged and told him. She told him how she'd received Verne's warning a few hours after her first bout of turning pains, after she'd passed that strange, stinking black bolus and had started to feel pretty normal again. Her hair was already streaked through with blonde and she'd shed perhaps a dozen pounds, but she didn't at that point look too different from her old self. Then she'd gone downstairs, no hint of a limp or any other mini-stroke symptoms, and devoured all of the lamb in the refrigerator. She defrosted it in the microwave and devoured it practically raw, blood and fat dripping down her chin, and then her mother came in and screamed, convinced that Lisa wasn't in her right mind.

It took some doing to convince her mother that she'd semi-properly cooked the lamb, that she wasn't suffering from some bizarre stroke-induced dementia. Lisa even claimed that Verne had given her some Juvechrome and showed her mother how her limp was actually improving. In reality, it was completely gone, but it would have been downright suspicious to reveal as much. Instead, she told her parents about the miraculous treatment and told them she was going to the clinic for another consult, that she'd probably be gone for most of the day. Knoxville didn't even have a clinic, of course, but Lisa's parents hadn't thought to check. If their daughter was getting better, they were willing to strain their credulity. 

Lisa 'left' for the 'clinic' but instead managed to sneak back into the house around the time her turning pains returned. She crept into the basement, gagged herself to muffle her cries, and hid herself in the recessed basement closet where the family kept their off-season holiday decorations. Hours passed, the pains waxed and waned, reaching a fever pitch just when her resolve was breaking. She was going to shamble back upstairs, spill the beans to her parents, and eat the rarest, bloodiest meat she could find. Instead, she curled up in the holiday closet and died with a whimper. She died for all of about five hours... and then she un-died, awakening ravenous and vastly-transformed.

"So your parents didn't find you... that's good," Verne said.

Lisa pursed her lips and looked annoyed. "Yes and no," she said. "This was, like, five in the afternoon, so it was still pretty light outside. I crawled out of the holiday closet... all of my clothes were super gross and really loose. Everything was soaked with oily goo. I guess all that mass has to go somewhere. And I touched the sunlight and started burning, and it was so bright in the room I couldn't even think straight."

"I think I'm getting used to it," Verne said. "But it was pretty bad at first. Now I'm pretty much fine, so long as I have heavy shades and a decent SPF."

"A what?"

"Sunscreen. It does wonders."

Lisa giggled. Her laugh was still bright and warm, even if her expression came across as vaguely mocking. "How didn't I think of that? It works?"

Verne shrugged. "It works for me. So what happened when you couldn't leave the closet?"

"I must've made some noise, because Bingo came down to investigate, and he started growling and yapping when he found me hiding in the closet. I tried to get him to shut the fuck up... tried to pet him, to cajole him... but he didn't recognize me. I look way different and I smell way different. So I did my best at shooing him away. And the little bastard bit my fucking finger." Lisa held up a finger, as if that might prove something – but it had already healed, of course. "Hmm. Bad example. Well, I flipped out. I pulled him into the closet and bit him, and when I tasted blood, I started to drink..."

"You killed Bingo?"

"I killed Bingo," Lisa confirmed. She was sniffling tears, so Verne handed her a tissue and pulled her into a hug. "I killed my fucking dog, Verne."

"I'm really sorry. I didn't know we could drink dog blood."

"It's pretty gross, but I didn't know any better. It tasted about how you'd expect blood to taste, and it took the edge off the craving. So... then my dad came down like an hour and a half later because they couldn't find Bingo and he hadn't eaten any of his dinner... 'cause I fucking killed him... and there must have been blood spatters or something, because he said 'Bingo?' In this sad, scared voice and opened the closet and found me there. So I fucking bolted. I knocked my dad right over – I hope he's okay – and ran upstairs and out of the house. I busted the door right off its hinges, I was so panicked. Thank god I grabbed my backpack on my way out, because otherwise I wouldn't have my phone with me."

"So... your parents think somebody broke into their house, killed their dog, and stole their daughter's backpack?"

"Yeah... they've been messaging me, like, a lot. And my mom called like five times, and I've been stalling. I mean, I did text her a few times. I told her I had to go to the Juvechrome clinic in Palmetto City, so don't be too surprised if your parents start hounding you about me. I cannot stand a convo with them right now… so… what about you?"

"Family-wise? My dad disowned me," Verne said. "My mom knows, too, and I guess she's kinda okay with it. But he flipped out and kicked me out."

"So... bad week?" Lisa said.

"Bad week," Verne agreed.

Lisa leaned against him, and Verne leaned back, and they sat there on the couch just holding one another until the daylight outside started to present a real vampire hazard. Verne padded over to shut the blinds the rest of the way and suggested they retreat to the bedroom – Verne had blacked out the windows weeks ago on completely unrelated grounds, so the place was pretty vampire-safe. Verne shut the door and lay back on his beanbag chair and Lisa curled up next to him. He remembered the last time that he and Lisa had curled up there and fucked. Lisa must have remembered it, too, because she mounted Verne and started kissing him, grinding herself against him. Verne kissed back, moving Lisa's dangling hair out of the way and marveling that the woman he loved was looking out from such different eyes, cold and sparkling gems in the darkness. She grabbed at Verne's crotch, and he gasped at the strange sensation.

"I don't have those parts anymore," he said.

"I don't care," Lisa said. She planted quick little kisses on his lips and gave him a little nibble, her fang poking just enough to break the skin, but not enough to draw blood. "You smell like blood," she moaned. "Your mouth tastes like blood."

"So does yours," Verne moaned back... and, he realized, that was enough to be a massive turn-on. He could tell that vampire sexuality was going to be an interesting labyrinth to navigate.

And, just like that, they were naked, nibbling and licking at each other. It was Verne's first time having sex as a woman and, frankly, it was probably a pretty atypical first experience. Vampire sex involved a lot more biting, sucking, and hissing than regular human sex, but the erogenous zones were pretty much the same... with the exception that nibbling a partner's neck, or having one's neck nibbled became elevated way past foreplay and was right there along the main course. You couldn't really exsanguinate a vampire by traditional means and vampire skin was a bit tougher than regular human skin. That wasn't the point – the point was to draw a single black bead of blood, consuming it into yourself and allowing your partner to do likewise. It was a commingling of the souls, an intensely intimate act that Verne barely understood. Lisa's blood was black and thick just like his, intensely powerful and flavorful and arousing, but without the same euphoric wash of life that human blood possessed. They had to provide the euphoria via other means.

Lisa had never been especially orally gifted, but becoming a vampire seemed to have turned over a new leaf. Either that, or she'd had a seriously unexplored lesbian streak that she'd just discovered. The sex was strange and different, but Verne was ecstatic that he could still feel that sort of emotion as a vampire, especially if it could be with Lisa. And as he stroked her and lapped at her, as he felt her quiver with need, her cries of passion were the same. The two of them fell asleep together on his beanbag chair, dead to the world for three or four hours, at which point Verne stirred to wakefulness. It was just past noon.

+++++

"Isn't it dangerous to go outside?" Lisa asked.

"SPF, remember?" Verne said.

"Yeah... but it's, like one pm. It's super bright outside."

"I shall teach thee the ways of the daywalker," Verne said. "SPF 100, dark shades, and far more modesty than your body deserves."

"You're a regular Casanova," Lisa giggled.

"Casanovette?"

"Are we going there?"

"I think so," Verne... Vera said. There wasn't much point in ignoring the obvious. She was going to be Vera forever after. "There doesn't seem to be much point in holding onto Verne. Nice enough guy, I think you'll agree, but not a girl vampire."

"Girl? I believe I made a woman out of you..."

"Touché, Lady Lisa..." Vera grimaced. 'Lady Lisa' was too much like something that Erasmus might say, and she did not want to sound like Erasmus. "I'm headed out... stopping by work."

"Work?" Lisa giggled. "What for?"

"Money?"

"Hmm..." Lisa frowned. "Vampires have to work? Damn... I kind of assumed we got to be, like, the sexy, affluent lords of the night. Lame."

"Yeah... well money doesn't grow on trees. Plus, I figure I might be able to get access to blood through work. I'm still trying to figure out how to work that angle. But it's either that or joining with Erasmus and taking his Juvechrome money..."

"So why not do that?" Lisa padded over to the mirror and preened. "I need a new wardrobe."

"Because he's fucking evil, that's why," Vera said. "I'll be back before dark..."

"What? Absolutely not. I'm coming with," Lisa stated. "I want to test out daywalking for myself, just to prove I can do it."

So they loaded up on sunscreen and body-covering (though not necessarily modest) clothes and headed out, taking the bus over to Imaging East. Vera had texted ahead to confirm that Dr. Parvolog would be in to discuss her continued employment with the company. Worst case scenario, she figured, was that the good doctor freaked out over her appearance change and/or being a vampire and called security. Best case scenario, Vera kept her job and the doctor was simpatico to her status.

If Vera thought riding the midday bus from Longstreet made her a center of attention, doing it with Lisa was infinitely more attention-grabbing. Now that she had gotten a good glimpse of herself with the benefits of cosmetics and a decent hairbrush, Vera was resigned to the fact that she was now a 'hot girl'… but Lisa was an entirely different category of attractiveness. Verne was cute-hot – most of the way up the 'adorable' scale and half-way up the hotness scale... the kind of girl to whom people frequently blurt 'wow… you should be a model' and genuinely mean it. The kind of girl whose guy friends all end up crushing hard on. Lisa, on the other hand, was hot-hot – juking the hot scale right past the top, the kind of girl who people would just assume was in the fashion industry because, unless she already had a massive trust fund, a girl who looked like Lisa could become rich and famous based on looks alone. In half-assed makeup, she looked more attractive than the thoroughly-Photoshopped models on fashion magazines. 

Vera wasn't sure how high she would rate herself hot-wise, or if she should feel objectified by the mere need to do so now. But they were both getting thoroughly objectified and, even if Lisa was getting most of the attention, Vera got maybe a quarter of that. And that amount was not negligible... even in skin-covering clothes, the two of them were immediately the focus of attention from everybody on the bus. Even the women – it must have been a bit like the shock of seeing dressed-down celebrities casually using public transport. When a rather attractive woman in a skimpy tank top boarded the bus about half-way to Imaging East, all eyes flicked on her for all of four seconds before sliding back to Lisa and Vera... including, now, the tank top woman's attention. Yes, about three quarters of that attention belonged to Lisa. Even so, Vera got her share of looks and couldn't help but be a bit creeped out. What were they going to do? Vampires were supposed to be inconspicuous, right?

V: <Everybody's looking at us, she texted Lisa.

L: <I know! she replied.
L: <I can't believe we're hot! I *need* to get more outfits!

Not the response that Vera had been looking for. Plus, Lisa didn't own any outfits. All of 'her' outfits were on loan from Ellen Gomez by way of Maxie by way of Vera. Oh well... Lisa was adjusting, just as she was. And maybe Vera would come to embrace hotness, too... she was sure it could have advantages. But it was going to take some getting used to. There was a collective sigh of disappointment when the two of them debarked at the Gallery Downtown stop. From there, they hoofed it the remaining block to the Imaging East building, safe from the sun beneath their SPF and umbrellas, and Vera told Lisa to wait in the reception area while she went to talk to Dr. Parvolog. Vivian at reception didn't recognize Vera (of course), and it took a little convincing to get her to message Dr. Parvolog to come out.

"She's coming out," Vivian said. She regarded Vera skeptically, squinting and angling for a better look, trying to see if Verne might somehow be hiding in there beneath prosthetics and cosmetics. "Is this a joke?"

"No. It's complicated," Vera said. She didn't want to go around blabbing about what had happen to her, and neither did she want to make up a fictional tale about it. Let people spread their own invariably-incorrect rumors.

Dr. Parvolog came out a moment later, pacing around the whole reception area before she noticed Vera waving to her from next to Vivian's desk. She paced right over and squinted. The two of them were eye to eye now, Dr. Parvolog in her flats and Vera in her mom's white trainers. The doctor glanced over to Vivian, who shrugged.

"Verne... um, Vera?"

"Yeah," Vera said. "So... I can explain what happened to me..."

"Is it medically sensitive?"

"You might say that."

"We'll talk in my office."

They made their way back. Unsurprisingly, nobody else recognized Vera, either. They probably assumed the doctor was giving her a consult. Instead, Parvolog gave Vera a grilling, asking her about the various machines they used, about their personnel, etc. to try to trip her up and conclude that she wasn't Verne. No dice, obviously.

"All right, then what's Verne's girlfriend's name?"

"Lisa."

The doctor's eyes went: Aha. "No, it's Laura."

"It's Lisa," Vera insisted. "I can call her if you like. Or I can text you from Verne's phone, or... look..." she sighed. "You know what? That’s fine… forget it. I knew this was a mistake."

When Vera stood to leave, though, the doctor stopped her. "Wait! Vera, wait! It's just... fine, let's say I believe you... I just wasn't expecting this." She vaguely gestured at Vera. "You've got a completely different body. I didn't think that kind of transition was even possible... medically, it's not conventionally possible. Even years of hormones and surgery can't accomplish that, let alone a single week. How? How is this you?"

"It's complicated. Let's just say it was Juvechrome treatment coupled with my medical condition, and voila." She gestured to her body.

Dr. Parvolog chewed at her lip. "Okay. I believe you. I can't believe I'm saying I believe you, but I believe you... if that makes any sense. I, um... we may have to revisit the workplace harassment policy to some of the staff, but if you still want to work here, you still have a job."

"Thank you!" Vera said. She rushed around the doctor's desk, forgetting that she was now in possession of improbable speed, and grabbed the surprised doctor in a great big hug, forgetting that she was now in possession of improbable strength, too. She lifted the doctor right off the floor for a minute. "Sorry, Dr. P!"

"That’s all right..." the doctor straightened her lab coat. "Wow. I... I'd like to do some scans on you. If that's all right."

"Okay. But, word of warning, they're going to be weird. Some of them might not even work. And I want full access to my scan records, too."

"Oookay," Dr. Parvolog said. "So... I can tell Ram to put you back on the shift schedule starting next week?"

"Yes! Thanks again!" Vera avoided giving a second sudden death hug, offering her hand and feeling a lot happier than she thought she'd be about keeping her job after very nearly quitting two days before.

+++++

When Vera came out, Lisa was nowhere to be found. After sending her a text, Lisa quickly replied:

V: <Meet you out front in 5 mibs
V: <*mins

Vera headed outside and, exactly six minutes later, Lisa showed back up, looking much more at ease about being in the sun than she'd been before. She flounced up to Vera, beaming in a manner you wouldn't expect to see on a face like hers, lips pulled wide, pearly teeth on full display. But not quite pearly. And she smelled off...

"You fed on somebody!" Vera said. "Who?"

Lisa shrugged. "Some junkie. He just let me... I think he needed a fix and vampire venom sure did it for him..."

"You can't just bite people in public! I mean... can you?"

Lisa shrugged again and bounced over to Vera, pulling her into a hug. "Why not? If they're into it and you're into it, isn't that, like, symbiosis?"

"Mutualism."

"Right! Even better! Come on, I bet we can find another."

There weren't many junkies in downtown Palmetto City, but you didn't have to travel far from there to find one. There was a little dingy neighborhood sandwiched between Old Town and Brushland Heights that, somehow, hadn't yet been gentrified in which you could find homeless people, flophouses, and drug dealers aplenty. This was where Lisa had gone – it was an audacious place for either of them to go alone. Setting foot into the back alleys, past the boarded-up storefronts and people hanging out on porches, thumping music in the middle of the day, seemed very unwise. It set Vera's hair on end. Lisa pointed further back in the alley, past two possibly-homeless, possibly-junkies.

"Try that guy," Lisa said.

It was a man... or woman... Vera couldn't tell. They were huddled under a dingy blanket and facing away... and what got Vera's (and presumably Lisa's) attention was the slightly elevated, slightly erratic heart rate. This was quite possibly somebody going through the early stages of withdrawal. Somebody who'd be very glad to get some free vampire narcotic, even if it meant a little blood loss. Vera took about three steps into the alley...

"Someone's coming," Lisa hissed, and by the time Verne turned around, Lisa was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there were three threatening-looking dudes filling up the alleyway entrance. Two of them had gang tattoos, and the third guy didn't... he was dressed in dingy coveralls, like a rogue auto mechanic or hillbilly gangster. 

"Hey, girl," the hillbilly guy said. "Lookin' for something?"

"I got something right here..." the first gangsta dude said.

"I can hook you up for a little personal attention," the second gangsta dude said. "Come out into the light. Let me get a better look at you."

Suddenly, Lisa dropped down from fifteen or twenty feet up, knocking gangsta one off his feet and diving in to bite him. As the others spun to see what had befallen their friend, Vera rushed at them, pushing gangsta two way out of the alley and into the side of a parked car. Then she leapt at hillbilly guy and bit him on the brawny wrist. It wasn’t as good as a neck, but it bled enough, and her venom sent him staggering, sighing and eyes rolling like one of the junkies. Something cracked a few times in rapid succession – gunfire. Then gangsta two stumbled back into the alley.

"What the fuck..." he said. Lisa was on him an instant later, tackling him right into Vera, who jumped on the guy's back and bit him on one side of the neck as Lisa took the other. Vera venomed the guy, anger clouding her thoughts. He'd shot at them. He'd fucking cornered them and then demanded sexual services from her. Who the fuck even did that...

"That's enough," Lisa said. "Vera – stop!" She tried to pull Vera off, succeeding on her second tug.

"Shit..." Vera said.

She'd drunk perhaps a pint from the guy, maybe one and a half, on top of whatever Lisa had consumed. Her whole mouth tasted like glorious blood, and it was on her lips and dribbling in a little rivulet down her chin. Lisa pulled her close and licked it off before plunging her tongue into Vera's mouth, and Vera had to remind herself of where they were – not somewhere to be making out and blood-swapping with her girlfriend. Gangsta two was unconscious and the other two were deeply intoxicated with sedative. One of the alley junkies stared at them from his little alcove, rubbing his eyes as if he couldn't believe what he'd just seen. Vera covered her face with her hands and dashed out of the alleyway, horrified over what she'd just done.

"Wait!" Lisa called after her. She didn't catch up until they were close to downtown.

+++++

"Jesus, wait up!" Lisa said. She finally caught up with Vera after about three blocks of running.

Vera had just zoomed out of the alleyway at about forty miles per hour. She glared at Lisa. "Fuck... I can't believe I did that."

"We did that," Lisa insisted. "We beat up three hard-ass thugs like it was nothing, and I got my first street cred!"

It took Vera a moment to see what she was talking about – a bullet-hole in the fabric of her shirt, her sleeve spotted with sticky black. Vera touched it, her fingertip coming away with a residue of inky purple.

"Ow! Hey!" Lisa said. She poked Verne's shoulder, where she'd also been shot, but her poke didn't come away with anything. "Hey, my finger didn't get anything."

"I have some kind of super vampire healing... I guess yours is just regular – which is still pretty fast."

Vera inspected her own bullet wound. She hadn't even registered it – she'd assumed the guy had just been firing wildly – and now she was angry. These weren't even her shirts and she'd just gotten them ruined with bullet holes. Maxie, if she ever spoke to Vera again, was probably going to have all sorts of questions. Oh well – too late to do anything about it now. And now Lisa was dancing in the sunlight and drawing all kinds of looks from people on the street.

"So... blood is some kind of temporary super SPF, too," Lisa giggled. "We've got to find a regular supply that doesn't involve back-alley shenanigans and raiding blood banks."

Vera started walking toward the bus stop, Lisa trailing behind and swooning over all of the things that she wanted to buy in the street-level boutiques. Vera would have been happy with a basic wardrobe that wasn't borrowed and didn't involve mom jeans, but Lisa was ecstatic over having a haute couture-ready body. At some point, Verne lost track of her, and she skipped back a minute later flaunting a multi-colored scarf.

"Did you just take that?"

"No!" Lisa frowned. "I'm not a thief. But I asked the guy if I could have it for ten dollars, and he said yes." Its price tag clearly read: $18.00. Ten bucks was a pretty steep discount.

Vera shrugged. It wasn't her job to make Lisa behave and, so long as she didn't do anything too audacious, she didn't want to come across as a bossy big sister. Somehow, things were working out between them, and she didn't want to perturb whatever audacious bit of spit and shoeshine was holding their relationship together. They'd reached the bus stop just when Vera's mom texted her:

A: <Verne, can we meet up?

Vera thought about her mother, how she'd looked hurt and miserable as Vera stormed out of the house, and she felt bad. It hadn't been her fault, how Vera's father had basically disowned her. She deserved better than that.

V: <Yeah, sure. Just let me know when and where.

A: <I get off of work at 9 pm if you want to meet at Rosie's?

V: <See you then.

Five minutes later, they were on the bus and heading back to Vera's apartment. Really, it was Verne's and Hector's apartment, but mortal male Verne had died and Hector was completely infatuated with Eva, so he was staying at Maxie's.

Just like before, all eyes were on Lisa and Vera on the bus. It was crowded and most of the crowd were low-level professionals getting off of work. Sedate, urbane people. Even so, their more restrained gazes had been completely unable to resist the two vampire hotties sitting next to one another. Vera twined her fingers into Lisa's and leaned her head onto her shoulder. Then Lisa lifted Vera's chin, her glacial blue eyes gazing into Vera's, and the two of them kissed right there on the bus. Somebody wolf-whistled, and Lisa gave them the finger, but Vera didn't care. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so happy. But, of course, that feeling couldn't last.

OvidLemma

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