I put on my stupid hat, part of my façade. “You mean, why I had to stop going to the playground?” That place was vile. There had been no hope of gaining a six-pack on such equipment.
“Yes, son.” Vanderhorst smiles with affection. Affection I will shove up his ass one day. “That’s right. And now the doctors have run all the tests to tell us what is wrong.”
“What’s wrong with me, Dad?” I say, feigning childlike fear.
“You don’t remember this, but you were like me once. A vampire. And vampires are created by an organism that changes our bodies. And five years ago, you took a special medicine—just like I told you before. You don’t remember any of it because the medicine makes you forget. Are you following?”
Get on with it, you putz! Before I tear off your lips. “Yes, Dad.”
“Good, because what I’m going to say will be difficult to…to…”
Dear vampire gods. Are his eyes actually filling with tears? How could my Miriam marry this wimp over me? I will have to show her what a real man looks like and steal her back!
Vanderhorst sucks in a deep breath and continues, “We can’t stop your aging. I am very, very sorry.” He hangs his head and stares at the floor.
If I were a fool, I would believe his act; however, I have been around for far too long. Vanderhorst couldn’t be happier to get rid of me.
“I-I don’t know what I’m going to tell your mother.” Vanderhorst turns into a blubbering fool. “Miriam loves you so much.”
Blood mingles with his tears, and suddenly my heart is beating faster. I have never seen a vampire cry bloody tears. It is said that it only happens when a vampire loses a piece of their soul forever.
I start looking for the red food coloring. Surely, he must have a bottle hidden in his hand.
“I am so sorry, sir.” Dr. Kleen pats his shoulder. “I promise we won’t give up looking for answers.”
Vanderhorst’s chest jerks with a hiccup. “Thank you, Dr. Kleen.”
I cannot believe these two and their theatrics. They are very good at pretending to care for me. But aren’t all vampires excellent actors?
“Dad, I have a question,” I say.
“Yes, son?” He drags his fist across his cheek, mopping up the tears.
“Can’t you turn me into a vampire again? It would stop my aging, right?”
Vanderhorst looks at me with wide dark eyes, and the doctor follows suit.
Suddenly, the gravity of the situation hits. Something is wrong. Something else I have not planned for.
Standing over me, Vanderhorst places his hands on my shoulders. “I am sorry, but I cannot turn you. By order of the king, any vampire who gives you their blood will be put to death. He thinks you are destined to be evil again.” Vanderhorst looks away, the red tears reaching his crisp white collar.
For the first time in my long existence, I feel confused. “You’re-you’re saying I will never be a vampire again?”
Vanderhorst looks down at the floor again, unable to face me. “No. And with the speed of your aging, you will be dead within a year.”
CHAPTER TWO
I have less than twelve months to live? And according to their calculations, I have but a few weeks remaining before my sublime, masculine body begins to deteriorate into a wrinkled piece of man-jerky.
Lying back in the lounge chair by the pool of our spacious, resort-like mansion in Phoenix, I take a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle and stare up at the starry Arizona night sky. Miriam is inside the house, inconsolable. She and my ten-year-old “sister” Stella have been crying since I returned from Cincinnati with Vanderhorst.
I can understand why Miriam is upset. Deep in her heart, she knows we were meant to be together. As for Vanderhorst, perhaps he will miss having such a fearsome foe.
“Well, congratulations, Vanderhorst!” I raise the bottle to the sky. “You won. She is your fanged love.”
“Fanged…love?” Vanderhorst’s voice comes from behind me. “But we banned that book from our home. Your mother prohibited you from even hearing the title. How do you know about it?”
Fanged Love is a vampire romance series Miriam loves. I pretended to be obsessed with it, too, when I was a vampire. No offense to the authors, two vampire-obsessed women, Mimi Jean Pamfiloff and Kylie Gilmore, but it is a little ridiculous to believe such a treacherous being such as myself would truly be a fan of a mushy love story. Blech! Nonetheless, I had been compelled to tell many lies in order to create the legendary persona of Mr. Nice.
You see, friends, despite all his faults and darkness, my maker, Narcissismo, taught me one valuable lesson: Vampires fear what they do not understand. So always keep them guessing.
Vampires are also savages, and if you want to survive in their world, if you want true power, they must tremble in your presence. That requires tall tales of glorious brutality to be circulated for centuries, repeated so many times they become fact.
For example, most believe I am over a thousand years old and a general from the Byzantine army. Puffery! I am actually of Spanish and Greek descent, only three hundred years old, give or take a few decades. Most also believe I am insane, eccentric, and unpredictable. Also untrue. I am simply evil, conniving, and merciless.
In any case, the Mr. Nice façade I’ve worked so hard to create is now useless. There is no point in pretending any longer. No more strange accents. No more flamboyant lace and leather outfits. No more terrorizing the vampire world with my obscure threats or unconventional requests. Milk a cat and make me some cheese!
I take another swig from the bottle, ignoring his question. “Miriam was always meant to be with me, and nothing will change that. Her heart knows you can’t protect her like I can.”
Like the time she was about to be slaughtered by Michael’s maker, Cluentius Boethius, the evilest vampire ever to live besides me. He was my hero. But I love Miriam, and when I saw she was about to die because Vanderhorst had failed to protect her, it drove me to action. I killed Cluentius and swept her away to safety, vowing to never let her fall into Vanderhorst’s inept, feeble hands again. Vanderhorst eventually found us and got her back. Grrr…
Vanderhorst steps into the glowing aqua light of the swimming pool, his jaw hanging open. “I knew it. I knew you remembered everything!” He spins in place, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it! All this time you were him! You are still Mr. Nice!”
I stand from the lounge chair and stare him down, feeling the whiskey run freely through my veins. “That is correct, Daaad. I remember everything before I took your ridiculous cure. I remember how you nearly shat yourself when I used to enter a room. I remember it all, and trust me when I say I will never forget the long nights I have spent in Miriam’s arms these past years.”
He winces. “Miriam was being your mother. Have you no decency?”
I flash a sadistic smile. “You, the Executioner, known for his savagery during the Great War, dare to judge me?” He slaughtered thousands of evil vampires, many of them my close friends.
“What I did was necessary for a better world, for humans and vampires alike. What you’ve done is vile. It’s despicable!”
“Michael? I heard yelling. What’s going on?” Miriam emerges from the house in her pink sweater and jeans. Her big brown eyes are puffy and red. Her blonde hair is in a messy ponytail.