The Nightlife: New York (The Nightlife Series) (3 page)

“I am sorry you must live this way.  Is the only way to save
your life.  Your injuries were too severe.”  Her eyes seemed to beg his
forgiveness for what she had done.  “Now you must consume one liter fresh blood
every night until you learn to control the thirst.  I will teach you how we
live.  Is relatively simple.  There are many benefits and pleasures.  The most
obvious; you age very slowly, like dog years in reverse.  Fifty years is like
one year to you.”  She smiled at him hopefully.

Shocked by his ravenous consumption of her blood, the
implications of her words seeped in slowly.  He sat there dazed and confused,
wishing people would jump out of the closet and tell him this was all a gag.

She continued.  “You are now very strong, many times
stronger than before.  And you can move much faster than
people
.  They
will be turtles, moving in slow motion.  You are not immortal.  You can die,
but is very difficult.  Your body is resilient, you heal rapidly.”

He was at a loss for words.  He stared at her silently, and
then glanced at the closet, hoping.

“You and I have a very special bond that cannot be broken. 
You will know things about me.  I can send to you.  You are sending to me.  Is
like telepathy. 
Oui
?
  You understand?  
Comprends?
”  He simply nodded
his head in silent acquiescence.

She went on.  “I will teach you to close your mind.  Is like
a radio station to me.  I can hear the station all the time.”  That got his
attention. 

He popped up from his dazed stupor.  “You mean you’re
hearing my thoughts right now?”

She smiled reassuringly.  “
Oui,
reste calme,
my silly American boy.  This is no
problème
.  As I told you, we have
a special connection.  I will show you how to remain private in here.”  She
tapped on her head and smiled again.

He returned her smile with embarrassment.  He caught the distinct
impression she approved of him.  He had no cause for shame or concern.  The truth
of it staggered him. 
She’s in my head!  Oh.  My.  God.  She’s in my fuckin’
head!

Her smile let him know that she understood.  It was okay. 
But it wasn’t okay!  Nothing would ever be okay again!  This beautiful, callous,
psychotic, foreign woman had invaded his mind, sending him messages and reading
his thoughts. 
What a mindfuck!  This is really happening!

“You must remember I am now your master.  When I command,
you will obey.  There is no choice.  Also, is very important, we live the nightlife,
after dark.  No sunlight.  We are extremely sensitive to the sun.  You will
burn very badly in the sun.  We sleep in the day.”

“No!” He grabbed his head.  “No!  This is too much.  It’s
too fast.”  He shook his head trying to dislodge the horrifying thoughts pelting
through his consciousness.  “This is too weird!”

Lucky for him, she understood how he felt.  “Don’t worry.  I
am not some evil creature.  I will not abuse my authority over you.  You must
trust me.  You have no choice. 
C’est
la vie
!
”
 She
shrugged her shoulders in a flippant
such is life
manner.

“As soon as you tell me where my clothes are, I’m gone.  You
got a great scam goin’ here, but I’m not buying it.”  He had trouble getting
past the feeling this was all some kind of cruel joke.

He looked around the room for any sign of his clothes. 
Michelle reached out to put her hand in his.  Instantly it was there, that
sense of
rightness
, a feeling everything would be
okay
, because
she was there, she had it all figured out.  He wondered if she was manipulating
his emotions through this weird connection.  Then he noticed her unblemished wrist.
 No marks at all from having been slashed open just minutes before.  Not a cut
or scab.

That was it.

He had enough Twilight Zone horseshit for one night.  “You’re
screwing with my head!  What kinda drugs did you give me?”  He let go her hand
and jabbed a finger of accusation at her flawlessly healed skin.  “That is so
not right!  I saw you cut yourself!”

He was reaching the edge, staring into the abyss of madness,
where reality and insanity blend together in an inseparable concoction that leaves
men babbling in the street.  He was about to lose it.

“
Oui
. 
This is the way of things with our kind.  One of the many benefits of this
life.”

Michelle stood up abruptly.  “Put your clothes on.  I will
show you, our life is very simple.”  He blanched.

He was naked beneath the covers.  He must have been naked
when she was doing whatever she did to him.  She smiled and patted his hand in
a motherly fashion.

“You Americans are so silly with your modesty.  Don’t
worry.  I have not done anything with your body.  Not yet!”  With that she
walked out of the room smirking and closed the door behind her.  He instantly
knew there were clothes for him in the top drawer of the dresser.  He knew like
he had known her name without a single word spoken. 
She’s in my fucking head
again!  Oh.  My.  God!

* * * *

CHAPTER 4

They began sitting cross-legged, face to face.  Aaron couldn’t
think of anything but Michelle.  She wore a slip of a white dress, very short,
nothing more than a nightie.  As she sat there, legs splayed wide, he
appreciated every detail and contour of her inner thighs and skimpy white
underwear.  Utterly impossible to concentrate on anything she said.

“Please close your eyes!” she snapped at him with a knowing
smirk on her face.  “Picture me in your mind.”

Easy
.

Sitting there, the curves of her breasts and thighs calling
to him, her devious little smile promised sex––lots of sex.  Gradually his mind’s
eye view of her changed.  Not that the picture was different per se, but now he
sensed something more.  This beautiful hundred pound kitten exuded a power, a force
of personality like a massive lioness.  He caught her amusement.  Not mocking
him, it was more the pleasure one derives from watching a child walk for the
first time.

He knew she viewed him as child-like, and this test of their
connectivity was the equivalent of baby steps.  He hoped he didn’t botch it.  He
didn’t want to make a fool of himself.

He concentrated further on the woman who was really a
lioness in human skin, and delved into her psyche.  He sensed her attraction to
him, her desire to both fuck and bite him at the same time.  In the middle of
this desire was a vague memory of another time, a very far away time.  Shadows
of another man, but not exactly a man.  The shadows mixed together in a blend
of longing, desire, and hatred.  There was a sense of violence, extreme
violence, and sex.

Suddenly his mind slammed into a blank wall.  He could
perceive no emotion, no thought, only the image of Michelle accompanied by her
powerful predatory nature held tightly under her iron control.  He wondered
what would happened if she lost control.

He heard her voice, but not with his ears.  The sensation
was so much more, replete with intent, an irresistible force of command.  yourself, your mind, sealed within a steel box.  Is like a vault.  Picture your
mind enclosed within a vault.>

He did as she instructed, and instantly recognized a
closure, a blocked layer of protection closing his mind off from the world
around him.

  She spoke again
directly in his mind, and he registered her approval and relief at his ability
to do this the first time, without difficulty.

It occurred to him that if he was blocked, how could he
still hear her in his mind?  Why wasn’t she blocked out?  A sick feeling hit
his gut as he began to suspect that maybe he could not attain any privacy.  Would
he be doomed to a life where his every thought, no matter how petty and
disgusting, his every sin was laid bare for her perusal?  Who could live with
such a burden?  Could any man live every moment of every day with perfect
thoughts?  He worked himself into a panic.  In his distress, his neat little
mental vault failed completely.

“Michelle, how can I still hear you if I’m inside my vault?” 

“Aaron,
ne
t’inquiet pas
, you were closed to me, your mind blocked.”

He interrupted, “But ...”

She spoke over the top of him.  “But I can send to you.  Don’t
worry.  Is always this way.  I can send to you always.  You can send to me
always.”  She sent him a calm feeling, letting him know she approved of him
without reservation.  He felt that same sense that everything was gonna be
okay
. 
It seemed to help.  He relaxed and gradually became embarrassed over his panic
attack.

She spoke again into his mind.  my thoughts.  You will see how it is when we are blocked.  You cannot read me
when I choose to be private.  Is the same with you.>

He strained so hard, he found himself physically leaning
towards her as he flowed down through their connection.  He hit a solid blank
wall where her mind should have been.  Nothing.  Not a damn thing.  He couldn’t
read one nuance of meaning from her apart from the fact she sat there smirking
at him, pleased.  He continued to hit her blank wall, and so he pushed harder,
concentrating on reaching with all his intensity.  His mind washed over and
around Michelle, engulfing her, but not finding a way in.  He kept reaching out
until he sensed others in the surrounding residences.  Aaron touched on an
older man, someone in his sixties whose mind was hazy with alcohol from the six
pack of Bud Light he drank while camped in front of the TV.  The old man’s mind
was filled with speculations of football statistics and possible outcomes for
the game.

As soon as Aaron noticed the man’s mind, he also became
aware of the woman who slept in the bedroom of the same apartment a few yards
away.  Her mind was deeply shrouded in dreams, a cloudy world of images and
feelings, something about her sister and her husband, the man watching
football.  She dreamt of the vague details of an illicit affair between her
husband and her younger, more attractive, sister.  Her emotions were in turmoil
over the dream, a frenzied mix of anger, resentment, jealousy, and
self-loathing for her inability to retain her husband’s attention and
affections.  She writhed in anxiety, fighting with her own sheets and blankets.

Aaron had enough of this and reached out in other
directions, seeking what else he might encounter.  Completely absorbed in his
psychic scanning, he had lost focus on Michelle and his internal privacy block.

He touched on a teenage girl who chatted online with her
boyfriend.  She was typing frantically on her laptop, trying to justify her
actions to her boyfriend.  She had gone to a party with one of her girlfriends,
drank too much, and ended up in the bedroom with another guy.  She didn’t want
her boyfriend to know how far things had actually gone.

Michelle snatched his attention away from his psionic
ramblings with a psychic push.  Her mind shoved his mind, a very disorientating
experience.  He grabbed for something, reaching out with his hands to stabilize
himself on the carpet.  He felt off balance, dizzy, but she hadn’t touched him
physically at all.

In the moment of her psychic
push
, Michelle
transmitted flashes of surprise, anger, and envy for a split second before
slipping back behind the blank wall of her vault.  He remembered himself and refocused
on his own mental vault, reestablishing his privacy.

She stood up abruptly.  “You were reading their minds,
oui
?
” She gave him a raised eyebrow, looking down
on him.  “You are better at this game than I thought.  Enough practice for
tonight.”

He realized he had transmitted his encounters with the
neighbors directly to her.  He was would have to learn to multitask, to
maintain his mental vault while scanning others nearby.  He suspected it might
be like trying to chew gum, pat your head, and rub your belly all at once.  Not
impossible, but tricky.

“Why didn’t you tell me I could do that?”

Her irritation leaked through their emotional ties, her eyes
flashed in anger.  “I did not …”

“You didn’t know?”  He spoke over the top of her when he
realized the truth.  His ability was unique.

“
Non
,”
she snapped curtly.

He swelled with pride, a childish feeling of superiority and
wonder at this magnificent new existence.  He speculated about what new
experiences, as yet undiscovered, this life might hold for him.

“I see the auras, but I cannot read minds apart from yours.” 
She flashed her eyes again, a demand for submission.  He knew she was testing
to see if he would take the bait and rise up, only to be slapped down.  He wasn’t
adversarial or proud, nor foolish enough to be baited into a challenge.  He
looked down away from her in the universal sign of submission.  He stayed
seated while she stared down on him, standing over him like a master ready to
whip her slave for taking undue liberties.

After a moment of glaring without catching a rise out of him,
Michelle softened. 
“You have every right to be intrigued. 
Pourquoi est-ce que je dois être
celui avec le gamin spécial?
”

He barely understood her.  She had said something about
being stuck with the special boy.  
Special like the kids on the short bus.

She reached out her hand to pull him up.  “The aura tells me
of moods and personalities.  I knew things from your aura the night we met.  I
knew those men were
police
corrompue
, and they would create
beaucoup
de
problèmes
,
but I did not know they would shoot you.  I cannot read minds, or see the
future.”  She admitted this apologetically as he stood up to face her.

“No more conflict.” With this she returned to the role of
benevolent master she had assumed upon his awakening.  Michelle placed her
hands on his head, holding him straight, directing his eyes into her gaze.  She
restarted her instruction with the basics of mesmerizing people through direct
eye contact and subtle commands.

“It is
magnétisme
animal
.  Is natural
we attract the prey.  We are predators.”  She stared unblinking, drawing him in
with those entrancing vivid green eyes.  He felt her looking down into his
soul.  She owned him with nothing more than her gaze.  She broke the eye
contact, yet again leaving him with a feeling of child-like inadequacy.

She spoke reassuringly, “You will see tonight.  Women will
come to you all the time.  They are easy prey.”  She spoke as though it was a normal,
everyday thing to hunt people like animals in the wild.

“When feeding, there is a chemical,
une médicament puissant
.  Is
like strong drugs.”  She opened her mouth inhumanly wide.  Her jaw unhinged
like some kind of beast that would swallow him whole.  She pointed at her
elongated canines tapering to razor sharp little points.  He took a step back
out of her reach, fear and morbid fascination dueling to keep him in place.

“You mean like the venom of a snake?”  He managed to sputter
out a nervous question.

She snapped her mouth shut as if it had never happened.  “
Exactement
.  This
médicament
heals the bite
marks.  They do not bleed when we finish.”  She expanded further, “And the bite
gives much pleasure.”

She stepped towards him, recovering the lost distance.  She
wrapped her hands around his face and purred, “Prolonged bites will bring them
fast.”  She shook her closed fist in the air as though jacking him off,
smirking all the while.  “Is too easy.”  She winked.

“But you must
remember,
never feed more than a minute.
 Absolutely
never
more than
two
minutes.  They cannot handle
excessive feedings.  Is
very
dangerous.  You must have care, until you
learn control.”

He nodded acceptance, but he didn’t have a clue how he would
be able to stop once he started.  Her words invoked a wicked hunger.  He wanted
to snatch up her wrist and sink his teeth in again.  He wanted to feed now, not
in ten minutes, not for just one minute, and not in the hours they would waste
cruising around town.  He wanted it right this second!  He wanted to drain
someone dry of every last drop, and then tear into their flesh and squeeze it
for more.

“Come, I will show you everything step by step.  Watch, listen,
and learn,
oui
?
” She smiled, disarming his
apprehensions and making it very difficult to think of anything beyond her
angelic face just inches from his, holding his head in her hands.

As the idea sunk in that they were actually planning to go
out on the town to
feed
, Aaron suddenly remembered his job at Bemichis.  “Oh
shit, I’ve gotta be at work tonight, I’m late.  I’m scheduled to work all week.
 Bemichi is gonna kill me!”  He felt panicky.  He couldn’t imagine how to
reconcile all she had told him with his former life .  He tried to step away
from her, to make for the door.  She halted him with her hands securely clamped
on his head and a command snapped out in his face.

“Stop!”

That’s exactly what he did.  Stop.  Right there in her
hands, frozen solid.  Panic struck with an explosion of adrenaline.  He wanted
to move, to run, to do something other than stand there, but his body wouldn’t
obey.  She had him seized up dead in his tracks.  His eyes could move, swirl
around back and forth, side to side, up and down, but his body wouldn’t do a
damn thing.  It was like being cast in concrete.  He simply couldn’t move, but
he could talk.

“Please let me go.  Please.  I promise I won’t do anything
if you just let me go.”  He was heading over the edge of the abyss, staring
into the bottomless well of madness.  All reasoning processes washed away in
the flush of panic.

“Silence!” she ordered him again, robbing him of the very last
aspect of his free will, the power of speech.  “You have been unconscious through
the change.  Is four nights past since the incident with the police.  You have
been dead to the world all this time.”  She gradually released the iron grip of
her will over his body.  The chains of her constrictive will lifted from all
around his body.  She let go of his face and took a step back.  He knew she waited
to see if he would lose it or accept the unpleasant reality of her domination.

He mumbled quietly, “Thank you.”

He feared she might use her force of compulsion again.  Life
on eggshells.  He had a heightened awareness of the slightest nuance of her displeasure
that might cause a loss of his freedom of movement.

Watching him warily, she spoke in her weird, enigmatic way, “The
world you once knew is no more for you.”  It was so true.  The freedom he once
knew was gone.  He had begun to learn there were very finite limits to Michelle’s
patience.  He took in the lesson and nodded his head silently.