The boys never know when to say quit. We'd been walking around Swarthmore for the last two hours, it was long past dark, and I was late for the party at the Professor's place. Don't get me wrong, Joe, Mark, and Mike are good little guys; two years younger than me, but I don't mind. Sometimes they're like brother, other, they're just too male to put up with. Ah well, I still had time to get back to the orphanage to pick up my car.
A bit longer, they said, let's get a pizza and sit by the stone circle on the campus. I'd be lying if I said that the thought of food wasn't enticing, but just sitting around and talking about video games had never been my idea of a high time. We stopped in front of the train station, checking wallets and watches. Pizza sounded good, but my body craved something far richer; if I needed that tonight, I'd have to go to the party. Damn, this mezzo-addiction really weights on my mind sometimes.
The station polls shoock as the train roared in. R3 line from Philly, Media/Elwyn bound. No one here to get on, nearly no one getting off, just five really rough-and-tumble punks jumping down from the platform. They saw us, they were coming. I've known guys who look like that, they never have good intentions. Joe, Mark, and Mike were still arguing about pizza toppings.
I shivered. In the cold, sterile night, my breath, like smoke, rose and dissipated. The boys, as they spoke, were now and then misty from the clouds of their life-air. The punks were laughing and talking, coming towards us. Like Josie taught me to do, I looked closely; no clouds, could that mean no breath? Shit, I just wasn't sure, and didn't know if I should take the gamble. One thing I didn't need was this. The boys wouldn't be much opposition for vampires.
Rhythm as the train pulled away, couldn't keep that song from running through my mind, louder than reality. So quick, the punks shot into action, barely a blur, too fast to be resisted. All five of them lit into Joe, Mark, and Mike, leaving me standing, watching. The boys went own, beaten and bloodied, in an instant. Had to act; her life-force makes me a bit stronger than normal, gotta do something.
Like a fool, I swing at the closest one; a big hulking guy. He hit me hard and fast. Blurring out, lucky that song's still there, damn, that's pain. One by one, the punks stood up Joe, Mark and Mike, then slit their wrists to bleed into the mouths of my young friends. No doubts now, I know what they are. One small guy slapped each and told them they'd remember nothing when they woke. The big guy picked me up by the collar as two others advance. It's all over. If they don't kill me, they're gonna embrace me; dead or undead, what's the difference?
"No, I won't be your ghoul!"
That took them aback for a second, but one of them, his arm still dripping blood, nailed me in the kidney. All of my body cried out, mouth open as I gasped to suck in the air. The punk tried to get his blood in, but I clamped down my jaw, and the burning stuff dripped down my face. Her life-force, that's what Josie calls it, always feels warm and sweet, it's not this searing poison smeared on me.
Fangs. Oh God, he's going to feed from me. I can't hush the song, but now I hope that someone near hears it and comes to help. He leaned in…no! Flames shot up his jacket, and the punk ran and dropped to the ground, his mates hitting him to put out the fire. The big guy let go of my shirt, and I just fell, uncaring, to the hard concrete. He'll come back, and this time he'll kill me.
"Boys, that's enough."
The voice was rich and flowing, I'd love to hear it sing. He stepped out of the darkness, the very shadows retreating like snakes as he walked over to me. Such a gait, calm and precise, his shoulders square, body clothes in black. He reached down and touched my chin, his arm around me as suddenly I was on my feet. His scent, pungent smoke and cloth, I felt drunk. He wiped the caustic blood from my lips.
His eyes, like beautiful swimming shadows, velvet midnight, and the darkness around him seemed alive, charged with, commanded by, his presence. The song sang with him as he moved, coming like a gentle predator, eyes dangerously locked with mine, and I shivered again.
"This one's mine," he whispered.
Oh God, ecstasy. The music leapt and swelled to crescendo, melodies and harmonies intertwining until it was all I could do not to cry out with the pressure of it. Then, it sank into a graceful interlude as his fangs shrunk back and I felt the wound closing. I lived through him, tasting his scent. He leaned in again, mouth finding mine, the kiss alive with his life force. That something could last that long, leaving me weak and needing him.
He pulled away, the train pulled in, the punks already jumping up the platform.
"Who…"
"Jonathan," he said softly.
Whistling as he walked away, steps in the darkness, that melody burning a hole in my mind. Then, nothing. I fell again, weak and confused, to the ground. Steam filled the station as the train roared off towards Secane, leaving me alone with the music and my nightmares.