Chapter Twenty-Three: Meet the Youngbloods

The back of Carrie's Escalade limo had six seats, which was fortunate, because that's exactly how many of us there were. Lisa crossed her legs demurely and held her clutch on her lap, and then Vera copied her carefully, and then Carrie smirked because she inferred what had just happened.

That smirk lent a predatory look to her features, down to the crimson-dyed tips of her otherwise-dark hair. She had the look of an up-and-coming junior executive going out with the talent – which, in a way was accurate. She and her $3,000 pinstripe pantsuit were in charge of making sure the other Youngbloods didn't get up to too much trouble in their revelry. Her eyes were mirthful, but beneath that was a brooding sea of dark determination. The only things detracting from Carrie's all-business veneer were the halter-top she wore beneath her jacket and a choker-style necklace so similar to Vera's borrowed bracelet that Lisa surely must have borrowed their jewelry from the same collection.

"Hi... I'm Vera."

"You're the one who used to be a boy," Carrie stated. She looked Vera over, as if she didn't quite believe it. "How's that working out for you?"

"Could be worse," Vera said. "I could be dead."

Carrie nodded. "If you play your cards right, there's about a fifty-fifty chance of making it through a turning. But you and Lisa probably had a much lower chance than that, since you went in with no idea what you were doing. Oh well... you're here now, and you look ready to make waves. Let me introduce you to the others."

Aside from Carrie, three other Youngbloods were along for the outing: Carlos, Ebony, and Matt, all of them less than a decade out from turning. They made their brief introductions as the limo hummed along, sipping on expensive drinks that Vera couldn't possibly appreciate in her unsated state. They drove down the Deacon Parkway to avoid downtown and took the exit into Brushland Heights just past it, driving past gastropubs and taco stands that were closed for the night and past the All-Nite Starlite Diner, which was not. They eventually arrived at their destination: the little strip of trendy clubs and street-level retail between the Heights and College Town.

Their driver opened the door to see them out and, almost immediately, they were intercepted by a large man in a pinstripe suit so similar to Carrie's that it couldn't be a coincidence. He carried an ill-concealed handgun, wore an earpiece, and... Vera sniffed the air... had a cigarette habit that he was trying to quit. He smelled of cigarette smoke, vape juice, and a nicotine patch. He saw the six of them past a long line of curious onlookers and past the velvet VIP rope for Queen Crimson, a club trendy enough that even Vera had heard about it. Well, now she was setting foot inside it along with a group of young, attractive vampires. Vampires like herself.

"Miss Edmonds," the man at the entrance bowed obsequiously. The shiny purple of his dress shirt's sleeve was rolled up to reveal a familiar's tattoo. "I've cleared the VIP room for you."

"Thanks, Gus," Carrie said.

Three beefy security guys ushered them back, past the pulsing music and throngs of people. Plenty of lusty gazes from people in various states of inebriation swept in Vera and Lisa's direction, as well as a few envious glances and lots of stinkeye. They were getting the VIP treatment, better than anybody else in the joint, better than the preening Pixogram semi-celebrities and the Rolex-wearing business bros with their private tables. Better than the connoisseurs sipping top shelf cognac in the lowered grotto area. Instead, they were led to a glitzy balcony overlooking the place, dark granite, darker leather, and ink-black glass. The whole upper level of the club had been set aside from them. From there, they could peep over and see the teeming main floor of Queen Crimson without anybody catching a glance at them. Carrie sat on a leather couch, her sleek but sturdy frame occupying the whole thing like an Amazon queen on her throne.

"What do you think?" she asked. The music of the club was far enough removed that she barely had to raise her voice.

"This is awesome!" Lisa said, practically bouncing in her seat. "Is this, like, a vampire club?"

"No, it's my club," Carrie said. "Well... it's Gus's club, but he's my familiar, so everything that's his is mine, too. What do you think, Vera?"

"I've never been in such a high-class place," Vera said truthfully. She wasn't nearly as excited as Lisa – and, truth be told, something about the outing made her a bit anxious, perhaps the slightest edge of feeling unwelcome in the place, given that she'd flaked on her oath to Abaddon. But it was also undeniably cool to be treated like a celebrity. "This place is really, really nice."

"We vampires like to live well... or un-live well, I guess," Carlos chuckled. He struck Vera as a biker dude type gone legit. He had the smudged and mostly-faded remainders of tattoos down his forearms and up his neck – that pegged him as a fairly recent vampire, as tattoos would invariably fade within a decade, unless you got them redone – which he seemingly had with one or two favorites, one of them a very well-done flaming skull, now with vampire teeth. He sported a leather suit jacket stretched across his burly frame, a stylish patterned shirt, a short goatee, and lots of hair product. "Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die, right?"

"Only if you get caught out in the sun," Ebony said. "I can only imagine how bad it is for you pale girls."

"Not so bad if you've got sunscreen," Lisa said.

Ebony snorted, as if it were a joke. "Yeah, ok," she said. "Don't give my dissertation adviser any ideas."

Ebony was an odd case – she was still in graduate school as a vampire, apparently. She'd been doing some sort of molecular biology program, caught the eye of Lady Clandest from her combination of brains and beauty, and become her familiar, doing most of her research out of Juvechrome. Then she'd come down with some sort of aggressive cancer that quickly metastasized beyond the ability of familiar-level rejuvenation to eradicate. So Sophia Clandest turned her after only two years of familiar service – practically unheard of. And not too long ago, five years after her turning, she'd decided to finish her degree. She was a rising star at Juvechrome and the only vampire that Clandest had turned in the past half-century.

"I turned for similar reasons," Vera said. She squeezed Lisa's hand. "We both did – we had neurovascular chimerism, which is super rare and very weird... and the turning ended up transforming us both pretty radically."

"That's very interesting," Ebony said. "I changed more significantly than most, though I can still pass as a cousin. I think the vampiric imprinting takes some liberties when it comes to matching up genes during the turning. Of course, after the turning, what we have is barely biology anymore. That's what I'm doing most of my work on uncovering... how this dense biochemical sludge we've inherited as vampires actually does anything."

"Have you considered that it's magic?" Matt replied. After Vera and Lisa, he was the most recently-turned of the Youngbloods at two years post-turning. He was some kind of artist and, though he didn't look much older than Vera, was apparently somewhere in his forties. He had a small-boned and androgynous attractiveness that contrasted against bulky Carlos's masculinity right next to him, thick auburn locks flopping over blood-red eyes. "You can't understand vampirism but as an expression of desire," he said. "It has nothing to do with molecules."

"Everything has to do with molecules," Ebony countered. "Vampirism included. Otherwise, the molecules wouldn't change when you turn."

"Agree to disagree..."

Ebony snorted, but the look she shot him was playful. This was, Vera concluded, a long-standing argument, and one that neither of them took too seriously. Part of what struck Vera about the surreal environ she found herself in was how normal all of the Youngbloods seemed. They were all extraordinary in some way – there was little question that each of them had been hand-picked by the coven higher-ups for a variety of good reasons – but Vera had met lots of people with fewer positive qualities and more bad ones. These folks sure didn't seem like the crème de la crème of evil. Maybe Maxie and the rest didn't know what they were talking about – they might nix one or two bad apples in the coven, and then it would be smooth sailing for everybody.

"I could do with a little chemical distraction," Matt added.

"Yes, please," Ebony seconded. "I'm about two hours from blood lust."

+++++

Ebony didn't strike Vera as the kind to go for 'chemical distraction'… and Vera hadn't even known that such distractions were an option. She and Lisa had tried bong hits to zero effect and, while alcohol still tasted the same (if you were sated), it wouldn't get a vampire drunk. Ebony, with her work-appropriate blue midi-skirt and gray blouse, understated accessorizing, and low ponytail, wouldn't have looked out of place in a trendy café tapping away at her dissertation. But her eyes flashed feral when Gus Yeung brought the 'chemical distraction' in: around ten clearly intoxicated clubgoers.

They weren't familiars and 'intoxicated' was the right word – they'd been given free drugs and were all on more than just alcohol... these were high-quality drugs, given by Gus, of whatever type suited their want. Coke, opioids, weed, or psychedelics, whatever they asked for, Gus had given it to them, and now they were high and stumbling into the dark luxury of the VIP room. One particularly fidgety guy was probably on meth. For a moment, Vera thought they were going to kill the people then and there, slaughter them unawares in an orgy of carnage. Gus must have seen her trepidation, because he said:

"I offered them free drugs and table service all night if they'll party with the vamps for an hour. They think it’s a blood kink thing."

"So we're not hurting them?"

"Only their feelings. Most of them come back wanting more, but we limit them to once a month - we don’t want a bunch of anemic junkies turning up at the local hospitals. What's your poison?"

Vera wasn't sure what her poison was, and she didn't have much of a chance to choose. There were about two people to each vampire, but most of them were already rapidly pairing off. A muscular guy and a petite chick were making out on top of Carrie, and she was nipping back and forth between them, helping herself to little laps of blood. A big linebacker dude was on top of Lisa but, before Vera could get defensive of jealous, she bit him with venom, and he relaxed onto the couch. Lisa slipped out from underneath, mounting his belly and nibbling at his neck, her golden hair splayed like a halo about her shoulders.

"Whoa... are you, like, a real vampire?" an indie chick mumbled. She wouldn't have looked out-of-place at Maxie's with her suede boots, tattoos, and plethora of colorful beads, but she did  look out of place at Queen Crimson with its trendy clientele. And she was pretty obviously on something pretty heavy.

"LSD," Gus whispered from across the room. Ah.

Vera had never done LSD, but she was willing to give it a shot. And, moreover, she was starting to get blood pangs. She really wanted blood, and this woman was offering herself to her, no strings attached. Vera pulled the woman down, smelling patchouli and lavender and weed in her hair... but it had been hours since she'd smoked. And she smelled the sour tang of something else... was that the acid? And she smelled the blood, of course. She pushed the woman's braided hair back and ran a tongue along her neck before feeling the little beat of her jugular pulse next to the stronger carotid beat and biting down with extruded fangs, a razor-thin, inch-long gash to feed from.

And, as soon as she got her first taste of blood, Vera went for broke, injecting enough venom to keep the woman from feeling much pain or pulling away and then flicking her tongue into the wound to force the flow. She drank and drank... three gulps... four... five... and it took Gus and Lisa to pull the girl away before Vera realized that she'd completely lost focus and would have drained the poor woman. Fortunately, they'd probably stopped her at just past a pint.

"Sorry..." she said. "Will she be okay?"

"Sure," Gus said. "She's just dopey from the venom... we'll give her a mimosa or two and she'll be fine. I know bloodlust when I see it, so I knew when to break things up... but you've got to know your own instincts better." He averted his eyes quickly. "If you don't mind my saying so..."

Vera nodded. "I don't want to kill anybody."

Gus didn't want anybody to die, either. Queen Crimson was a pretty trendy club and its clientele, even the ones who readily accepted free drugs on a lark, weren't the kind of people who could just go missing without anybody noticing. And, however much influence the coven had over Palmetto City's affairs, they weren't about to reveal themselves to the general public and operate in the open. Vera calmed herself, the LSD woman's blood quickly bringing her to her senses... and perhaps a bit beyond. Within minutes, colors were dancing across her vision and the faces of people were merging in and out of the background. Something on the rectangular panels of the distant wall fascinated her, and she wobbled over to see it, collapsing between Matt and one of the 'chemical distractions' on the couch.

"Only weed?" Matt said.

"Yeah... like, a lot of weed," his human mumbled. "Good Maui..."

Matt sighed, reaching into the pocket of his velveteen jacket. "You want some molly to chase it with?"

"Yeah... I guess..."

And, just like that, Matt got the weed guy high on MDMA, too, chatting idly while he waited for the drug to take hold. He made eye contact with Vera, his blood-red eyes mischievous.

"What are you on?"

"Um," Vera said. For some reason, the question seemed unreasonably complicated. "Lots of acid," she said eventually. "Sorry, you seem really far away."

"Maybe I am," Matt said. "Care to sample um... Malik, was it?"

"Yeah," Malik said.

He beamed and leaned down to kiss Vera, and she almost let him. But she heard Lisa watching... somehow, she did... and thought about how annoyed she'd be if Lisa made out with some rando. Lisa might get mad if they kissed, but she certainly couldn't get upset at a little nibble... and she found herself redirecting Malik and nibbling at his neck, tasting the little leak of blood, lapping at it, and inhaling the remnant fumes of some truly primo dank. She could taste it in his blood, too, far more pungent and savory than any edible she'd ever had. And she managed to moderate herself after only two swallows, coming away with a pleasant buzz as Matt came between them.

"I could watch you feed all night," Matt said, wiping the corner of her mouth and casually sucked the blood from his thumb. "Can I sketch you later?"

Vera nodded happily and sank back into the couch, watching Matt lap at the same wound she'd made. She sighed happily and rubbed her legs together, savoring the strange sensation of her own smooth skin and the contact it made. All of her skin felt warm and alive, tingling with a full-body frisson. She stood far more easily than she thought she might and wandered over to Lisa, lifting the intoxicated woman now wriggling on top of her with one arm and setting her down in the next chair over. Lisa's fangs disengaged with a little trail of blood and spittle and she looked up, licking her blood-streaked lips.

"I could feel you from all the way across the room," Vera said, and she straddled Lisa, running a hand up her sleek flank and settling at the base of a perfect breast.

"You smell amazing," Lisa said. She ran her hands along the taut skin of Vera's exposed belly and up.. up...

Vera sank into a kiss, tasting the blood on Lisa's lips and whatever admixture of narcotics that blood carried. Vera saw stars behind Lisa's eyes, and she felt heat in her soul, and she kissed and nibbled, unsure at times which moaning was hers and which was Lisa's. She ground against Lisa, kissing her, tasting her, holding her down as she rubbed herself against Lisa's perfect, supple thigh, little sparks of delight shooting off in her brain. Lisa worked her hand up Vera's thigh, pushing her skirt up toward indecency and stroked at the tender flesh of her inner thigh, and inched higher... and then away. Vera grunted and bucked against her with a little hiss. What a tease!

Everything felt good, but especially her lips with their bloody residue, her breasts, where Lisa's warm hands had now found purchase beneath the sling of fabric and homed in on a well-primed nipple, and between her legs, where everything felt warm and wonderful... if only Lisa would stroke her there! She sucked on Lisa's plump lower lip and wormed her hand down to Lisa's thighs, pushing the diaphanous fabric of her skirt to rub at her pussy. Lisa reflexively squeezed at Vera's breast, and Vera yelped from pleasure and pressure both, and Lisa nibbled at the nape of her neck and whispered into her ear,

"You naughty bitch..." and then she reached between Vera's legs.

Lisa's delicate touch released a floodgate that Vera hadn't even known was there. A roiling pleasure took over her, and Vera felt Lisa bite at her lip, tasted the tiny trickle of her own inhuman blood, before sighing mightily and sliding next to Lisa in the big chair, pulling her girlfriend into her embrace. She turned Lisa's face and gave her another little kiss on the lips, shuddering at the warm bliss that had thoroughly suffused the world.

"Please tell me somebody got that on video," Carlos muttered.

"You have a damn smart phone, old man," Ebony giggled.

Vera pushed her hair out of her eyes... her hair and Lisa's hair, actually, which was everywhere... and sat up, her head buzzing happily, but the apex of her high starting to crest. Almost everybody was looking at her... almost everybody had been watching. Attentively. If she'd been capable of blushing, Vera would have. She'd just engaged in almost-sex right there in the VIP lounge, right in front of everybody. With a yelp, she realized that her right breast was on full display, a prominent nipple crinkling in the air conditioning, having popped out of her dress's sling of supporting fabric. She pushed it back in and tried to look serious... or horrified... or anything that wasn't a dopey grin. The grin slipped back onto her face, though.

"Heavier stuff than I'm used to," she shrugged.

"You can be yourself around us," Carrie stated. She hadn't moved from her leather throne in the middle of the VIP area, but she'd assembled a coterie of blissed-out 'chemical distractions', five humans drifting in and out of venom-induced delirium. She used her phone camera to check and touch-up her makeup. "Don't be ashamed of who you are. You're a vampire. We're family now."

OvidLemma

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