OMWF
OMWF Chapter 13
Sonya had been told by Beatriz what would happen that evening before she’d gone into The Living End, so she knew that their world would be abuzz. When she’d gone back there, Taylor and Melanie had already left, and thankfully, the clean up had already occurred. Quite often, that job fell to her and Kirk, but for whatever reason, Beatriz had asked that it be done by those present, which she was grateful for. And, they’d done a good job; neither her eyes nor her nose picked up any of the aftereffects of the deed. Only a melancholy twitter remained. Some were sad, others excited, but all of them were voicing some sort of opinion about it all. “Hey, Sam.” She said to the man behind the bar.
“Hello, Sonya.” He said, downing a shot of what looked to be whisky or scotch—something brown and strong smelling. He then rinsed the little glass and dried it with a towel, placing it under the counter again.
“Long night?” She said.
“You could say that.” He said, leaning back and crossing his arms. “You might wanna check on your boy.” He said softly.
“That’s where I’m going.” She said. “I guess he was upset.”
Sam chuckled, but there was no mirth there. “Yeah, I guess you could say that, too.” For a moment, they just stood, looking at each other, then he spoke again. “It’s not gonna work, Sonya.” She just looked at him. “He just ain’t the type.” He said.
Sonya looked around the room at the men and women. None of them meant anything to her, one way or another. If any one of them had gone with Nikki, she wouldn’t have cared the least little bit. She looked back to Sam, “I know, you’re probably right.” She said. Then, she too smiled, “But, what’s a girl to do? I like my head where it’s at.”
He held up his hands, “Hey, I don’t blame nobody for what goes on around here. I just watch.” He said.
“Anything else happen tonight? Any interesting characters coming or going?” She asked.
“Nope, Beatriz took her proof with her, so I guess that’s all that was needed.” He said bitterly.
“Yeah, I guess so. Well, I better head home. It’s getting late.” She said, glancing up at the clock in the shape of a rooster up on the wall.
“Yeah, it is.” He said with a sigh, “I think I might hose the place out tonight…”
“That’s probably a good idea, I can smell that stuff still.” She said, walking away from him.
“Me too.” He said, as he took keys from his pocket to put in the door, “Alright everybody, I’m lockin’ up!” He shouted, “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here, and all that shit…”
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Melanie looked at her watch, “Taylor, there’s just enough time, we can run out and grab something.” She said.
Taylor was lying on the couch, his feet on the coffee table, “Go ahead. You don’t have to babysit me.” He said.
“Yeah, right. Excuse me if I don’t go against Beatriz’ orders tonight.” She spat.
“Where’s Camille?” He asked.
Melanie rolled her eyes, “I said I don’t know. She doesn’t always come home you know.”
“Yes, she does.” He said, rolling over and pulling his feet up on the sofa.
“Well, she has ever since you came into the picture, but it’s not uncommon for her to stay someplace else. She’s got lots of friends.” She reasoned.
“Whatever.” He said. Melanie reached into her bag and pulled out her cell phone and began to dial. “Who’re you calling?” He asked, sitting up.
“Sonya.” She said, holding the phone up to her ear. “Where are you?” She said. “Alright, I need to leave, I’m starving.” She then closed it, ending the conversation. She then looked at Taylor, “She’s gonna be pissed. You know how she gets when you don’t feed.”
“Fuck her.” Taylor said turning on the television.
Melanie raised an eyebrow and looked toward the elevator, “God Sonya, come on!” She said. She then looked back to Taylor, his face in a scowl, “I am not gonna be here when she comes in here. And if you’re smart, you’ll be snug in your bed.”
“Since when am I smart?” He asked, his eyes locked on the television.
“Good question.” She muttered, walking towards the elevator. As the doors slid open, Sonya stepped out and Melanie stepped in. “Good luck.” She said, and she punched the button and the doors slid shut.
“Hey.” Sonya said, stepping over to the couch.
“Hey.” Taylor responded, not looking away from the tv.
“Did you feed?” She asked, sitting down and touching his leg.
“Nope.” He answered.
“Why not?” She asked.
He turned his eyes to her; they were dark, “I just don’t really feel like it tonight, Sonya.” He said.
She sighed, “Alright then, why don’t you go to bed, aren’t you tired?”
He looked at the clock, “I’m not tired. It’s only like five or so.”
“Okay.” She said, sliding down onto the floor. She scooted down to sit in front of him, her skirt pooling around her ankles. “Are you okay?” she asked.
He sat up then, his face coming very close to hers, “No, I’m not. Tonight sucked!” He spat.
“It’s all a part of it, Taylor. We live and die just like humans.” She said.
“I’ve never seen a human die like that.” He said.
She turned to face him, “There was a time that many humans lost their lives like that, ever hear of the French Revolution? Besides, how many humans have you seen die?” She asked, looking up at his lips and the rest of his face. He was visibly upset, tears coming to his eyes.
“One.” He answered, his voice breaking.
“And how was it?” She asked.
He stood then and walked to the television, placing his hands on top. It was warm and he could feel the reverberations as the sound came through the speakers. “Why are you turning this on me?” He asked, his back to her still.
“I’m not. I’m just trying to make you understand. The world works the same way for every living thing, Taylor. When an animal is hungry, it finds food, just like us. Humans go to the grocery store or a restaurant, and we go to humans. And when an animal feels threatened, it fights back, just like us. Just like you.” She said. She stood and stepped closer to him, “Nikki’s actions threatened our lives. You must understand that.”
Now he turned, “I know…” he said softly, a tear rolling down his cheek, which he quickly swiped away.
“Then what is wrong?” She asked.
He shook his head, “Why am I not allowed to be upset?!” He said. “I don’t feel like feeding because I watched a girl’s head cut off and her blood squirt everywhere, and frankly, I find that a little sickening.” He said, anger in his voice now.
“That’s perfectly understandable. I’m glad I didn’t see it and I’m glad that I didn’t have to clean it up.” She said.
“I never knew a body even had that much blood. It just kept coming and coming…” he said, his eyes taking on a far away look.
Sonya pulled herself up and put her arms around him, “Put it out of your mind.” She said.
“I can’t.” He lamented. “I don’t want to forget it. Sometimes, I forget what I am and what you all are. But then, something like this happens…” He stopped for a moment, “I knew her.” He said softly.
Sonya pulled his head down to rest on her shoulder, “I know you did.” She said. “I did too.”
They stood that way until they heard the elevator signal to them that someone was coming up. Taylor turned to see Camille walk into the room and toss her bag on the chair. For a moment, their eyes met, neither of them saying anything. Then, she spoke, “The sun’s gonna be up soon, Taylor…” She stopped and crossed her arms. “Um,” She started again, and swiped her arm across her eyes, “would it be okay, if I slept in your room tonight?” She asked, her voice small in the quiet of the place.
Taylor sniffed, and stepped closer to her, “Yeah, sure.” He answered.
Again they just looked at one another, “Are you coming?” She asked.
“Soon. You go ahead, I’ll be there in a little bit.” He said.
Sonya turned her head toward the elevator. “She’s coming.” She said. “If you don’t want to see her, you should probably go on.” Camille gave Taylor a sad smile, and turned, walking toward his room.
When the doors slid open, Melanie stepped out, followed by Beatriz. She threw her bag in the same chair with Camille’s and without saying anything to Sonya or Taylor, she went in the opposite direction, to her own room. Beatriz stepped over to the desk and sat a diamond earring on it. She then turned to Taylor, “You’re up very late and you haven’t fed.” She said.
His eyes were icy as he looked at her. Sonya watched, torn between leaving them alone, and needing to see what was going to happen. “Yes.” He answered.
Beatriz reached down and unbuttoned the front of her jacket, then ran her hands through her damp hair. “Why is that?” She asked.
“I don’t really feel hungry tonight.” He answered. His eyes were unwavering.
“That doesn’t change the fact that you need to feed.” She said, pulling her shoes off and dropping them to the floor. She walked closer to him, now having to look up into his eyes. “I’m sure this has been a trying day for you. Why don’t you go lie down in your bed? Tomorrow, as they say, is another day.”
Taylor furrowed his brow, “How wonderful.” He said. “I’m so looking forward to a few more little surprises. Sort of like…today.” He spat.
Beatriz looked at Sonya for a moment, then back to him, “I’m very sorry about today, Taylor.” She said.
“I’m sure you are. I mean, gosh, the remorse you showed when you cut Nikki’s head off, wow.” He said. He moved in closer, “But, really, I’ve sort of come to expect that kind of cold shit from you. However,” He said, his face inching closer to hers, “the next time you are going to do something like that, would you do me the fucking service of warning me?” He growled, his breath warm on her face.
“You see,” Beatriz said, “this is why you need to feed. You get very strange when you don’t feed. Look at those dark circles under your eyes.”
For a moment, Taylor just stared at her, then he threw his hands out, “I can’t believe I have to live here.” He said, turning away from her. He looked at Sonya. “Everyone is much more concerned about whether I fed tonight, than about a girl we all knew who got her head lopped off.” His shoulders dropped then and he went to the desk and picked up the earring. He turned to Beatriz, a smile on his face, but with tears in his eyes, “Glad you had the presence of mind to take this off her before turning in your “proof”.”
“I thought Camille might like to have it.” She said, tiredly. “Taylor,” She said softly, “I know you must understand why I had to do what I did—“She started.
“If they told you to kill me, would you?” He asked, his eyes shining in the light.
“It depends on the circumstances.” She said.
He laughed, “Well, at least you’re honest.” He said. He looked at Sonya again, “There’s a lot of girls out there that wouldn’t tell a guy something like that.”
She watched him shut his eyes, as he regained his composure. The sun was about to come up and she knew that very soon, even his sadness and anger at Beatriz wouldn’t be enough to keep him on his feet. “Come on, why don’t you go to bed, Camille probably needs you right now, don’t you think?” She said, putting her arm around his waist.
He shook his head, “You all don’t need me. Unless it’s just to have a token man around. I wonder if Robert knows that she’s gonna drive a stake through his heart as soon as she’s in charge?”
“That’s a very good idea.” Beatriz said, “It might keep him from killing you, which I’m sure is the first thing on his list of things to do when he becomes an elder.” She said, yanking her jacket off, leaving just a silky black camisole. She threw it on the couch, uncharacteristically showing her own anger.
“What’s the difference? I get killed by Robert, or by you—who cares how it happens!” He spat, pulling away from Sonya.
Beatriz walked over to him, “I’m doing everything in my power to keep you from being killed, Taylor.”
“Oh, so all this was for my benefit?” He replied, crossing his arms over his chest. He was beginning to feel the effects of the sun, and he didn’t want her to know it. He watched as she looked toward the windows, then back to him.
She started to say something, but she stopped and shook her head. “Just go to bed, please, before you pass out. I’d hate to have to carry you in there when you’re so upset with me.” She said.
He raised an eyebrow, “Oh, don’t do me any favors.” He spat and he walked away from them and toward his room, running his shoulder into the wall, then falling to the floor with a thump.
Neither Sonya nor Beatriz flinched as they’d both known it was coming. Only his anger with Beatriz and his will to let her know it had allowed him to remain awake as long as he had. With a sigh, Sonya walked to him and reached down to take his wrist and pull him up. “Let him stay right where he is.” Beatriz said. “If he doesn’t want any favors from me, then he shall receive none.” She said.
Sonya rolled her eyes and ran her hand through her hair, “Alright, but Mr. Jones is not going to appreciate him just lying there like that all day.”
“Oh well.” Beatriz said. And she made her way down the opposite hallway to her room.
Sonya reached down to push Taylor’s hair out of his face, “No blood, I guess you’re alright.” She said, and she stepped over him and walked to his room to check on Camille. She too was out for the night, so she went back the way she’d come, stepped over Taylor again, and went to her own room and shut the door. Mr. Jones would begin his day in less than two hours.
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“Bloody hell…” he grumbled as his foot made contact with Taylor at 7:05 a.m. the next morning. Mr. Jones reached over and flipped on the light in the room. Looking down, he saw the boy lying in the middle of the foyer, blocking the hallway that led to his and Taylor’s rooms. He looked down the opposite hallway to where the girls’ rooms were, but it was perfectly quiet, as he’d expected. Sometimes the Lady was still awake when he came out, but this morning, she was nowhere to be seen. “I guess I can’t open the drapes today.” He grumbled as he walked into the kitchen to start the coffee. He then called the other employees who’d be showing up later to tell them that they’d been given the day off. He wasn’t sure why Taylor had been left in the middle of the floor, but he suspected it wasn’t something Beatriz would want the servants gossiping about.
When he came back from picking up the cleaning, he stepped over him. When he sat down for lunch, he gazed over at him, marveling in the stillness. He hadn’t moved a muscle since that morning, just as he knew he wouldn’t. He stepped over him again when he went to his room to choose clothes for him to wear that evening, and again when he came out of the quiet room. He noticed the large stain on Taylor’s pants and shook his head, not wanting to know how it got there. At 3:30, he’d had enough, and he threw open the drapes, allowing bright August sunshine to poor into the room. As the light shone on his face, Taylor winced. For a moment, Mr. Jones watched him, thinking perhaps he should close them again, not wanting to hurt the boy. But, before he could, Taylor sat up as if he’d been sprayed with cold water. He got to his feet and ran down the hallway and into his room. By the time Mr. Jones had followed, Taylor lay in his own bed, in the arms of Camille and was again as still as he had been before. He wondered why the girl hadn’t slept in her own bed as he left the room and pulled the door shut behind him.
At 5:25 Beatriz appeared, dressed in a white polo shirt and a pair of jeans. She sat down on the couch and began to brush out her hair. Mr. Jones stepped over and sat in the chair in front of her, the table between them. “So, how was your evening?” He asked.
“Fine.” She said absently.
“How did your meeting with the elders go?” He asked.
“Fine. Same crap, different night.” She answered.
“Um, how about Master Taylor—did he fare alright at their hands?” He asked.
Now she looked at him out the corner of her eye, “You should have left him where he was.” She said. “Next time, I’ll pin a note on him.”
Mr. Jones raised an eyebrow and folded his hands across his chest, leaning back in the chair. “I didn’t touch him, I merely opened the drapes and he slithered away like a snake.” She nodded, but didn’t say anything. “Lover’s spat?” He asked, a ghost of a smile on his face.
“Hardly.” She spat. She lay the brush down on the table and like a cat, curled her legs up on the seat with her. Mr. Jones waited. He knew she’d break eventually, and she did. “You know? He is so maddening.” She said. He gave her a sympathetic nod. “He judges the things we do as if we just do them because we enjoy them and he uses those big eyes to dish out guilt as if he were the Christ child—“ she stopped and sighed. She looked at him, “He told me not to do him any favors.” And she shook her head, then stood up, “We’ll just see how he makes it without any favors from me…” She stomped off, her bare feet not making nearly enough noise to show her displeasure.
At 6:15 Sonya walked into the room. Mr. Jones sat in the same chair, reading a book. “Good afternoon, Mr. Jones.” She said, pulling her wet hair up into a knot.
“Good afternoon, Sonya. How was your evening?” He asked.
She shrugged, “I’ve had better, and I’ve had worse. How about you?” She asked.
“Relatively uneventful.” He replied. “Though there was a lovely pile of young man on the floor this morning.”
“Ah, I was wondering what happened to him. Did Beatriz take him to his room?” She asked.
“No, she did not. He took himself, with the help of a little sunlight.” He said.
She raised an eyebrow, “Really. Hmmm, how interesting.” She mused. “Where is she now?” She asked.
“She’s been in and out of the rooms. I’m not certain exactly where she is at this moment.” He answered.
“And why haven’t you taken off for the evening? You don’t have a date tonight?” She asked, smiling.
“No, I do not. And if I did, I would probably break it. I’m much too nosy to leave when it’s shaping up to be such an interesting evening here.” He said, pushing his reading glasses up on his nose and looking back down at his book.
“I hope it’s not interesting. I like it boring.” She said.
“That is because you aren’t a prisoner of this quiet place all during the daylight hours.” He said.
“You can leave if you want to.” Sonya reasoned.
“That’s true when the other servants are here. But today, the farthest I could go was to the lobby for the dry cleaning. With the young master lying there in the middle of the floor, I didn’t feel it proper to have the cleaning woman stepping over him.”
“Ah, I see.” She said. She shook her head. “Sometimes it gets a little crazy around here, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, indeed.” He agreed. He looked up at her over his book, “I hear there was a bit of excitement down the street last night.” He said.
Sonya sighed, “You heard?”
“I received a phone call or two.” He answered.
”Well, I wasn’t there. But I heard as well and I saw the results.” She said. “I’m not really looking forward to tonight, but who knows? Maybe they’ll all surprise me.”“Hmph. I doubt it.” He said, and he returned his gaze to the book in front of him.
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Taylor opened his eyes. His room was the same as always. For a moment he thought he’d had a nightmare, but then he remembered vampires don’t dream. He looked down; Camille’s head lay upon his shoulder. He reached over and touched her cheek and her eyes opened to take him in. “Good morning.” He said.
“Why do you still say that?” She asked, a sad smile on her lips.
“I don’t know. Habit I guess.” He answered.
She looked into his eyes, “I love how a little thing like being turned into a vampire doesn’t make you abandon any of your little “habits”.” She looked at his face; he may not have aged anymore, but today, he looked older. “Taylor, I’m so sorry that I did what I did to you.” She said. Her violet eyes teared up and she swiped them away. “I’d give anything to see you and your brothers out there singing and making records and stuff…”
“There’s no use crying about it now. What’s done is done.” He said.
“I know, but—“she started.
“No.” He said. “We can’t think about that.” He turned his head to the side and listened. In the other room, he could hear Sonya and Mr. Jones talking, but no Beatriz. For a moment he thought about Beatriz; he’d thought maybe he loved her, but now, he wasn’t so sure. It would be like loving a shark, the years having turned her into something cold and methodical, all wrapped up in a beautiful package, and he was pretty sure nothing could ever change that. He looked at Camille again and the sadness in her face. She’d lost a friend the day before, not just an acquaintance, so he knew she’d be more affected by it than he was. He closed his eyes and placed his lips over hers. He’d kissed her before, but it had always been just a way to tease her, to make her sorry for what she’d done to him in the past.
When he pulled away, her eyes were closed and a tear fell down her cheek. “Do you think it hurt or anything?” She asked silently.
He shook his head, “It was really fast.” He said softly. He then reached up and brushed the tear away. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything for her…” he said.
She took in a deep breath, “I know you couldn’t.” She smiled then, “You know what they say--you live by the sword, you die by the sword.” Her face fell again and Taylor pulled her closer.
“Don’t think about it. Let’s just…not think about anything right now.” He said, placing his hands on her face and pulling her into another kiss. She stretched out her small body on top of his, continuing the kiss. Taylor put his hand out and she heard the lock on the door click. With the same hand, he ran his fingers under her shirt, grazing her cool skin. She sat up then, arching her back as she pulled the blouse off over her head. He smiled, looking at her body. At that moment, it was perfect, though he felt like in life, the act they were about to perform would probably have hurt her. He was more than a foot taller than her and both of them were proportionate. She leaned forward again to kiss him and to unzip his pants. He said a thank-you to his own body as it began to respond. In this form, it could be hit or miss in the erection department. Before, there’d have been no question—in fact, just the thought of having sex with a girl like Camille would have brought about near-instantaneous results.