Vampire Bride

Chapter Eleven

Charlie

A moan escapes my dry, chapped lips as the stabbing pain of a migraine throbs from inside my skull. Almost zombie like, I whip the blankets off me, intent on getting some pills to ease the throbbing, but stop short. The room spins in a slow circle, causing my body to sway along with the imaginary movement. In order to ease the nausea that attacks my senses, I anxiously rub my palms over my thighs.

The once smooth fabric of the dress that I wore last night is now damp from sweat and layered with wrinkles. “I’m going to kill that man,” I mumble as my feet shuffle across the floor.

I reach the corner of the room where my bathroom should be. The backs of my hands rub aggressively at my eyes. Where the hell am I? I’m nothing but a bunch of nerves as I look around the room in search of the door. Or any clue as to where I am. The sudden movement of my head causes a twinge of pain to run down the length of my neck. Thinking I pulled a muscle, my hand automatically goes to rub it out. But when I feel a plastic like square patch my blood starts to boil. And when my fingers apply two points of pressure that twinge of pain comes back.

It doesn’t take much for the flashbacks of last night to flood me. I’m still at the house that enlisted me to coordinate a party, a party that they didn’t need me for. A vampire party. And Mr. Barnett bit me.

Set on a mission, I speed walk downstairs in search for Maxwell. He took a piece of me, it’s only fair that I take a piece of him. The clink of a glass sounds from the kitchen. Expecting to see Maxwell, I see the startled expression of the woman who requested my services instead.

I’m sure I look like a mad woman and once my words harshly spew out of my mouth, I sound like a mad woman too. “You.” My finger points at her in hatred. “You helped him attack me, didn’t you?”

“Maxwell,” she shouts.

“You knew what he was doing. You. Vampire.”

“Maxwell. Someone is awake...and not hap-py.”

“Charlie, leave Grace out of this. She’s an innocent bystander,” Maxwell says from behind me.

I jump around to face him. “Innocent? She’s innocent?”

“Calm down. Let’s talk this out,” he says as he slowly approaches me.

“Calm down? You bit me, you fiend!” I yell back at him.

A distant laughter that I assume to come from Grace makes matters worse. I’m not sitting here talking to him. Just the fact that he bit me is one thing, but not being able to remember what happened after I smacked him in the head with a lamp is scary all in itself.

“Charlie, we can talk about this. Let’s just go back upstairs,” Maxwell pleads. He blocks my path from getting anywhere near the door.

“Upstairs? You mean the little room you trapped me in so you could have a snack.”

“Oh boy, she is a firecracker,” Grace mumbles behind me. Her giggles fuel my anger.

“Grace. Shut. Up. Charlie, calm down. Look at me.” His words are caring but stern at the same time.

And that’s when it hits me. “I can’t remember what happened because you did something to me. Your freaky vampire mojo. You know what, I don’t want to talk. I can’t stand to be in the same room as you.” I shove him to the side and thankfully he lets me.

The front door is within reach when I hear him call my name. “Stay back.” My hand flies out to stop him from getting closer. “Leave me alone.” My fingers fumble with the lock. God damn locks and my jello fingers.

“Let me.” Within seconds Maxwell is by my side, pushing my hands aside. He easily unlocks the door, but he doesn’t open it. “Charlie, before you open that door, please know that I’m truly sorry and I hope one day you’ll understand and forgive me. At best, let me explain.”

My eyes glare at the floor. Tears threaten to flood my eyes, but I hold them back. Just as I’m about to look at him, he places his soft lips on my forehead. When I finally get the courage to stare back at him he’s gone. With a grunt, I swing open the heavy wood door. The sunshine from the morning rays burst into the house. I hope I never have to come back to this place again. And the slam of the door behind me hopefully lets those two dead bodies inside understand that as well.

I make it home in record time. Even though no one was staring at me through their car windows and no one is out on my neighborhood streets, I still tug at the collar of my dress to hide the bite mark on my neck. Its throbbing feels as if it were sending out some fantasy sign to flash above my head. Look at me. Look at me. This one got bit by a vampire.

I don’t remember much about last night, but Maxwell telling me that I’ll be meeting The High Council in six days. Six days. Maxwell didn’t bother in telling me where we’ll be going or for how long we’ll actually be gone. I need to prepare Morgan. I need to call in reinforcements, because I don’t think Maxwell will just let me decline the invite.

I sit at the kitchen table staring at my phone. Staring at the name. Reluctantly, I hit the call  button.

“Charlie.”

It takes a minute to get his name out of my mouth. “Dave.” I hear his laugh over the phone cutting off anything else I can think of to say. The rumble that comes from a throaty chuckle puts a smile on my face momentarily. Dave is familiar, but he’s also heartbreak.

“It’s nice to hear your voice.”

I clear my throat stopping that subject from being dug up. “I need to ask a favor of you.” 

“And what would that be? Do you need me to come over and clean your pipes?” He never ceases to amaze me.

“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that. I called to ask you if you would stay and help Morgan at the party that’s this coming Saturday. I have to attend a very important meeting and I don’t know if I’ll be back in time.”

“This meeting, is it a business meeting?” I could hear the curiosity in his voice. His tone let on that he thought otherwise.

I find my way to a mirror and carefully peel off the bandage to reveal two deep, nasty looking puncture marks. “Of course it’s business, my life revolves around business.” I feel bad for lying, but there’s no way I could tell him that a vampire was taking me to be presented as his bride to a whole bunch of other scary ass vampires. I didn’t want to go in the first place and I certainly don’t want to talk about it.

Waiting for a response takes a toll on my nerves, especially when he remains silent for so long. “Listen, Morgan trusts you. You know my deadlines better than anyone does. You can keep the authority there without me being present.” I speak professionally and unemotionally attached. Out of all the options I could have thought of, I result to calling Dave. An ex-boyfriend that I should hate to the core, but so obviously don’t.

“Fine, but I need something in return,” he replies. However, I know that attitude. I’m all too familiar with that macho man tone.

“Go ahead.” I now become the one that’s curious.

“You let me take you out to dinner when you get back.”

And here we go. “Juliet and I are having a girls’ night when I get back.” It’s the first thing that pops into my head. It’s a totally false story, but it doesn’t have to be.

“Do you plan on dying a few days after your return? I didn’t put an expiration date on it, it just has to happen. Deal?” He remains persistent.

Nervous laughter exits my open mouth. I think about his words. For all I know I will die a few days after I get back. I can only hope I don’t die while I’m there. “I guess I have to accept it if I want you to help Morgan…so I guess it’s a deal.” I could have sounded happier about it, but I’m anything but happy. Getting tricked into a date is the last thing I need right now.

We say our goodbyes. I keep the phone up to my ear and listen to the silence, not fully understanding the consequences of what I just agreed to. I don’t know how I can turn down Dave gently without having to admit anything remotely close to a relationship with Maxwell. How can I tell someone that I’m stuck with a man I despise who is impacting my entire life…and afterlife?

As the day comes to a close and the sky gets darker my tolerance fades. I dig through my drawers in search of a permanent marker. With a blank sheet of paper in hand, I scribble down a few words. A smirk grows on my face as I tape it to the outside of the front door.

Trying to go about the rest of my night like a normal person, I take some leftovers out of the fridge for supper. My heart beats faster, my breathing deepens, and the muscles controlling my hands seem to weaken no matter how hard I try to ignore what’s happened. What’s happening. As it becomes darker outside the threat of Maxwell’s appearance taunts me. With every little creak I hear, I become on edge.

When I hear unmistakable creaks coming from the front door, I freeze up. My mind’s been playing tricks on me for a while now, so when I swear that I heard the porch steps creak from pressure of one’s feet, I brush the accusation aside. However, my reflexes didn’t convey what my brain was trying to tell it. Without warning, my numb fingers loosen on the plate I’m holding and I watch it fall to the tile kitchen floor in slow motion. The loud clatter as it shatters on the ground snaps me out of my nightmare. “s**t,” I mutter to myself.

A loud sigh fills the room as I drop to my knees to pick up the bigger pieces; I clutch them in my hand as I try to gather as many shards as possible. There’s no time to register the following events that unfold. All I know is that the front door crashes open and in a blur Maxwell is there standing in my kitchen, hovering over my kneeling body.

I squeeze my hands into fists at the mere sight of him. The sharp stabbing pain in my left hand breaks both of our silence. Maxwell kneels down beside me, cupping my bleeding hand in his. “Charlie, open your hand.”

I look down to see red lines running down my arm and dripping on the floor. The broken pieces of the plate dig into my palm. Somehow, this fresh bleeding wound doesn’t faze me as a constant sting attacks my neck, reminding me of the deep puncture marks the monster—that’s trying to be caring—left behind. I would sit here for eternity, refusing to do as he says. Nonetheless, my hand opens up to reveal three pieces of china stuck into my skin.

“This may hurt,” he says.

I’m not even sure I’m listening to him. The blood that runs down my hand stops my brain from working. All I can picture is Maxwell with a bloodstained mouth, lapping up the trails that continue to flow steadily. There’s no additional warning as a sharp stab shoots up my arm from Maxwell yanking out plate piece after plate piece. The amount of time it took for me to jerk my hand away from him, all three pieces are already removed.

I stand up and hold my hand against my chest. The warm blood soaks through my shirt, but I’m determined to keep it away from him. His hands gently touches my elbow as he helps me to my feet and still touches me as he tries to keep me sturdy on my wobbly legs. I need answers and I need them now. I aggressively back away from him.