An Ever Fixéd Mark (16 page)

“No,” he shook his head in amusement.

“So you missed out on the whole McDonald’s
thing?”

“I bought some of their stock,” he continued
his amusement.

“There’s something very odd about a vampire
making money on what people eat,” Lizzie shook her head as she put
the burger back together and took a bite. It was lukewarm, but
tasty. She realized how hungry she was. She only ate a few protein
bars since leaving Newton. She took another slow bite and was aware
of him watching her. “You said there was a clinic.”

He softened his gaze with a short smile. “I
did say that.”

Lizzie set down her burger and reached for
her half empty water bottle. She took a drink, watching his eyes to
see if there would be any more answers during her silence. She set
it on the table and decided to prod him before taking another bite.
“How does that work?”

“The clinic?” Ben asked as though she could
just as easily be discussing her hamburger. “There are a number of
sources who come in and provide blood. It’s a lot like the Red
Cross. There is even juice and cookies for them.”

“Do you bite them?” Lizzie felt a burn of
jealousy more than anything else. Was it something over which she
should be jealous?

“Sometimes there is that option. It is
frequently a transfusion.”

“With needles?”

“That’s how it works,” he shrugged as if it
were obvious. “Is it not a good burger?”

“No,” Lizzie shook her head and forced
herself to take another bite. “Are the sources… do they do it for…
pleasure?”

“I imagine some do,” Ben looked at her
plate, prompting another bite before he spoke again. “They all are
compensated. I suspect a fair number do it for the extra cash.”

“How can there be enough people who know
about this and… yet vampires are so unreal?”

“Most sources find out about the clinic
because they had a connection with a vampire. Some come as
referrals. Everyone is discreet.”

“You must pay them well.”

“Very well.”

“How did you find out about this… clinic?”
she took another bite so he would answer her swiftly.

“I helped create it,” he answered very
nonchalantly. “It was based on a model in Europe that I discovered
in France. “

“Clinics for vampires.”

“Think about it. It’s an opportunity for us
to screen the blood and regulate intake. It’s a very good
service.”

“So is that why you became a doctor?”

“No, I had a practice for about fifteen
years. Then when my youth became obvious, I decided to do something
for vampires as well as their sources.”

“What do you screen blood for?” Lizzie
didn’t think she could force herself to eat any more of her
hamburger.

“Drugs. Alcohol. Cholesterol. Metals.
Diseases. The healthier the blood, the less likely a vampire is to
go out and drink irresponsibly.”

“What happens if you drink blood with
AIDS?”

“It makes us weaker. Same with diabetes. It
takes a while to flush it out. AIDS sometimes stays for years.”

“People die from it,” Lizzie was almost
irritated with his matter of fact tone.

“I know.”

“Is there anything in our blood that can
kill you?”

“Not directly,” Ben looked at his hands.
“Lead has the most severe consequences.”

“Lead?”

“Yes,” he hesitated. Lizzie could see he was
editing the information before he began to speak. “A lot of the
superstition and myths about vampires come from our reactions to
lead poisoning.”

“Really?”

“The mutation of our DNA has weakened our
defenses to lead. In addition to human reactions of pain and
insomnia, we are at high risk for developing intense porphyria.
This leads to a sensitivity to light and severe mania.”

“Lead was in so many things. It’s still in
so many things. Lead paint was everywhere.”

“Yes it was,” Ben nodded. “A number of
vampires were infected as a consequence.”

“Did they die?”

“Most of them,” he nodded. “Some became
monstrous and were killed as a result. Some were able to purge the
lead from their system. If they drink quality blood now, the
symptoms do not recur.”

Lizzie looked at her cold burger and pushed
the plate away from her. Ben was vulnerable… even if it seemed
obscure. She wondered if vampires considered lead paint a pandemic.
“Is there a way of knowing quality blood without going to the
clinic?”

“Our sense of taste is distinctive,” Ben
dropped his eyes to her unfinished dinner. “Everyone is different.
If someone has had a bad reaction to something, they are more
likely to know the taste of a metal or a disease or lipids.”

“If you taste something bad, do you stop
drinking?”

“I do. I can’t speak for all of us.”

“What could you taste in my blood?”

“You are on birth control.”

“You can taste that?”

“Estrogen.”

“Does it taste good?”

“It’s insignificant. It isn’t necessary for
you now,” he said quietly.

Lizzie wasn’t surprised at that implication,
but felt enough of a sting at the thought she decided not to linger
upon it. “What’s the best kind of blood?”

“From someone with a healthy heart. The
blood is full of oxygen.”

“And endorphins?”

“Endorphins are… well perhaps a little like
caffeine is for you.”

“Wakes you up?”

“Sort of. It feels really, really good.”

“So is that why vampires and sex go so well
together?” Lizzie looked at him blatantly.

“It can be pleasurable for both if the
timing is right,” Ben answered her stare.

“Do you ever have sex with your sources at
the clinic?”

“Not at the clinic. There are other less
regulated operations that are … well pretty much a brothel. But
they can’t guarantee clean blood.”

“
What did you do at the
clinic for fifty years?”

“I managed operations and helped to
establish others throughout the country based on the same model. I
also worked in the lab and tested a lot of blood. Partly, to
evaluate sources. Partly as research.”

“Research?”

“On diseases of the blood. In humans and
vampire humans.”

“Identifying or curing?”

“A little bit of both. I tried to cure the
reaction to lead. Unfortunately, I only came up with a chelation
agent, that works the toxic metals through your urinary track.
Vampires don’t use their digestive systems, so it doesn’t do much
good for vampires.”

“Oh,” Lizzie found the information more
confusing than helpful at this point. “Do you miss working at the
clinic?”

“I still consult every once in a while,” he
rested his gray green eyes on her again. “I left the clinic in good
hands.”

“Where is it?”

“Near Central Square,” he answered more
readily than Lizzie expected. “I was on my way home the day I saw
you sprain your ankle.”

“Oh,” Lizzie smiled, thinking of that
afternoon and the tense moment at the top of her stairs.

“I was on my way to the clinic the second
time I saw you running along the river,” he continued. “You were
very tempting that day.”

“I was running,” Lizzie saw the pieces come
together. “You wanted my endorphins.”

“I did.”

“Ben,” she looked down at her abandoned
plate. “Did you like my blood?”

“Very much.”

“Even without the endorphins?”

“You were scared,” he smirked. “Fear excites
the nerves, too, you know.”

“I was scared,” Lizzie wouldn’t look at
him.

“I know…” Ben started but stopped when
Lizzie looked up to meet his eyes. He reached across the table and
took her hand as he had that night. He turned over her wrist and
looked at the marks that were still red. “I also think you were
extraordinarily brave. I only saw that fearlessness once before.”
He paused and stroked her wrist, igniting the electric sensations
she knew came only from his touch. “I found that more alluring than
any amount of endorphins in your blood.”

Lizzie caught the smile that gazed at her.
She forced her mind to quiet all the new questions that came into
her mind. It seemed every answer ignited ten more questions. She
was weary of asking. She relished the smile and the touch of his
fingers against the inside of her arm. And the fact he found her
alluring.

*****

Lizzie closed the door quietly. She pulled
off her sneakers and happily sighed with a glance at him asleep on
the bed. His face was so still. His breaths were barely noticeable
even with just the fragment of sheet covering his bare chest. She
bent down and rolled up her spine for one last stretch and returned
her gaze to his open eyes.

“Were you really sleeping?”

“Did you go running?”

“I went along the river. The dewy morning
was breathtaking,” she reached for her water bottle.

He smiled at her and slowly sat up. “Will
you come back to sit with me?”

“I’m all sweaty and gross. Plus you’ll want
my endorphins.”

He restructured his smile and shifted his
look towards her. “You don’t sleep much, do you?”

“Not these days,” she smiled. “I’m going to
take a shower.”

Lizzie looked into the steam covered mirror.
She was satisfied with her reflection. She never gave pause to the
fact that she met her goal in the fury of months that passed since
meeting Ben. Running became more an excuse to forget him and less a
determination to drop the last stubborn pounds that lingered on her
body. They were gone, as was the worry he wouldn’t call her
again.

She hung up the towel and collected her
dirty clothes and went back into the room. Ben was dressed and
watching the morning news. “How many days are we going to stay
here?”

“How sick do you think I am, Dr.
Cottingham?”

“At least through the week.”

“
I have to get back by
Friday. Meg and I are helping Nora with more wedding preparations,”
Lizzie paused at his lack of response. “Weddings must seem
ridiculous when you’ve lived through so many different ideas of
marriage. When you know that forever isn’t… well, really… could you
ever see yourself staying with one person forever?”

“I couldn’t, unless it was another
vampire.”

“But even then… wouldn’t you… well you
wanted to try a new career. Wouldn’t you want to have a new mate
after so many years… centuries?” Lizzie went to her bag.

“Are you afraid I am going to get tired of
you, Elizabeth?”

“Well… yes. No. I don’t ... of course you
will,” she pulled her jeans out her bag. “Damn it. I always say
stupid things like that. I didn’t mean… I just don’t see myself as
someone who could be compelling for 50 years. Besides, I’m getting
old. You will always be… how old will you always be?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Well,” Lizzie sighed. “There it is. I’m
already getting white hairs.”

“You aren’t old, Elizabeth. You just ran
through a gorge.”

“Running isn’t going to make me twenty-five
again.”

“I look twenty-five. I am not… I’ve seen too
many things to have any sense of naiveté.”

“But you’ve got this perpetually youthful
body. Why would you want to be with someone who is older?” Lizzie
sat on the edge of the bed.

Ben came behind and circled his arms around
her waist. “Don’t worry about growing old, Elizabeth. You don’t
know how much I envy that.”

“Do you ever wish you could go back? That
you were… mortal and could grow old?”

“I’ve been a vampire long enough to know it
is foolish to wish such things.”

“I don’t know if I would want to outlive
everyone I love.”

There was a sad glimmer in his eyes. “That
is challenging. It gets … people are taking better care of
themselves now. They live longer.”

“We still die.”

Ben breathed out unhappily. “I can’t say it
gets easier to witness. But I’ve learned that it shouldn’t stop me
from appreciating when I find someone who makes the present
interesting, nor does it stop me from wanting to spend as much time
as possible with them while they are with me.”

Lizzie felt a huge sorrow overwhelm her. She
turned to see if he had any of that sorrow in his eyes or any
expression on his face. She didn’t find the emotion and couldn’t
curb her next thought from articulating. “But humans are still your
source, first and foremost?”

“No, Elizabeth,” he unwrapped his arms.
“No.”

“Have you…” she shut her eyes, able to catch
the question in her mouth.

“Go ahead,” he looked angry.

“Never mind.”

“Ask it.”

“It’s not important,” she got up from the
bed, uncertain if she felt comfortable in the presence of his
anger.

“It is important. You want to know. You need
to know. Ask me.” Lizzie went back to her bag for her hairbrush.
She turned to the mirror and began brushing her wet strands. “Ask
it.”

Lizzie breathed in and finished her hair.
She set the brush down and turned to face him. He was waiting. “How
many people have you killed?”

“Five.”

Lizzie shut her eyes and looked back to the
dresser for an elastic. “Five,” she repeated, putting the elastic
around her fingers but losing momentum as she saw the bite marks on
her wrist.

“Yes.”

“Only five?” Lizzie asked. “In two hundred
and thirty years? I would think you would have been hungrier than
that.”

“To go that far… it isn’t healthy.”

“Indeed,” she breathed out.

“One was…” he stopped. Lizzie turned around
to face his downcast eyes. He fumbled with his hands. “I take the
blame for one I allowed to happen… but didn’t stop.”

“I want to go home,” Lizzie felt sick.

“I will tell you everything, Elizabeth. I
won’t…”

“I don’t want to know,” she cried. “I don’t
want to know about that part of you… not yet.”

“We can go back to Newton,” he sighed.